ordinary glory

four voice clover [x]
a playlist of beautiful quartets and harmonies

nine people’s favourite thing (title of show) // rooftop duet / falling (ordinary days) // moonfall quartet (mystery of edwin drood) // without love (hairspray) // i turned the corner / i’m falling in love with someone (thoroughly modern millie) // teddy bear / hound dog (all shook up) // watch what happens reprise (newsies) // if only quartet (the little mermaid) // more life (now. here. this.) // but i do (i love you because) // right here (glory days) // gun song (assassins) // electric blues (hair) // no one is alone (into the woods)

Breaking The Fast.

The response to ‘Mi Amore’ was simply overwhelming and on Tumblr it has been most well received piece I have ever written, so to say thank you I decided to follow it up today with a second instalment of what I am coming to think of as the 'lost moments of Outlander’ that we may have seen had the book flowed from Jamie’s perspective. Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read/reblog/like my work. It is a time consuming labour of love and it is my utter pleasure to share it with you all. xxx


Dougal beamed and threw an arm affectionately around Jamie’s shoulders as he dropped into the seat beside him. The hall was buzzing with the sound of a hundred men taking breakfast and sharing the gossip of the dawn. Dougal’s grip was too tight to be an entirely friendly embrace and Jamie glanced sideways at the older man with thinly veiled distaste.

“Good morning, Uncle. How does the day find ye?”

“Pissed as a gnat in a barrel o’ light ale.”

Dougal whispered and the fumes that rose from his mouth were enough to make Jamie’s own eyes water. Now that he looked closer he could see the whites of his uncles eyes were bloodshot and the skin of his cheeks visible beneath the beard was dry and reddened.

“A wee bit early for such merrymaking is it not?”


Dougal laughed, an awkward barking sound devoid of humour

“Ye sound like yer Mam. A wee scold and no mistake.”

“Careful uncle, I’m sure ye dinna wish to insult your sister’s memory.”

Jamie detached the arm from around him and twisted in his seat to face Dougal properly.

“No, I wouldna wish to do that. She was a good lass, kind and … well ye ken. Ye ken all of that.”

Dougal’s demeanour changed, softening at the thought of his sister and Jamie allowed his face to relax and his fists to lightly uncurl on the table top. He had been at Leoch just over a week and already he found himself clashing with his rambunctious uncle. The man was loud and ill-mannered and had an air of one who feels life has robbed them of their chance of greatness without ever stopping to consider that their destiny may lay within the realms of the ordinary. Dougal expected glory to fall into his lap with the same regularity of chamber maids hoping to curry a little favour.

As a lad Jamie had held him in particularly high esteem, he was the life of every party and seemed to thrum with an insistent vitality that his own father seemed to lack. Brian was more reserved and, to Jamie’s young mind, a little boring in comparison with uncle Dougal, who encouraged Jamie to drink and dance and generally act the fool. It had taken some time for Jamie to realise that Dougal and his friends were laughing at him, not with him.

However the man was family and he had the same pale grey eyes as his mother, and the same way of raising his chin before he laughed that his Mam had and Jamie loved him despite a distant rumble of awareness that told him the feeling was not mutual.

“Aye, Uncle. She was. Have ye been up the whole night then?”

Jamie grinned and nudged his uncle in the ribs, hoping to restore some of his buoyancy.      

“Eh? Och. Aye, I have! Awake and stood to attention too! Three charming lasses and a not so charming one but my God, she rode me like a …”

Dougal broke off and Jamie followed his gaze toward the entrance of the hall. Claire was stood in the doorway, smiling a little uncertainly and clearly wondering whether it was safe to try and make her way to the table laden with food, or better to suffer an empty belly for a while longer and come back when the men had moved out.

“Now there … mmmphmm. There is a woman I would sell my left nut to the devil for a go on.”

Dougal’s nostrils flared and Jamie felt this skin of his neck prickle with heat as his temper caught like a lit match.

“Dinna be sae crass, she is a woman alone amongst strangers. Have some courtesy.”

Jamie snapped but Dougal was too intent on Claire to notice the tone of his nephew’s voice. He ran the back of his hand across his mouth and stood, wobbling a little.

“I’ll go and see what it is she wants. Maybe a decent sized bit o’ meat to break her fast …”

Jamie stood up so fast it startled Dougal from his lewd innuendo and he looked at his nephew, eyes wide with shock. The air around them crackled with pent up aggression and Jamie tensed himself readying for a fight but Dougal held up a consoling hand.

“Easy laddie, what’s amiss?”

“Nothing is amiss but I wish ye to leave Mistress Beauchamp alone. Ye stink o’ drink and can barely walk straight. She doesna need ye slobbering over her in that state.”

Jamie kept his voice low but his hands trembled beside him with the urge to physically shove the old fool down on his stool and keep him there by force until Claire was safely away.

“Do ye wish her for yeself, Jamie lad? A pretty wee whetstone to sharpen a young blade?”

Dougal leant in close and winked at Jamie slowly. Jamie shook his head and felt exactly as he had at sixteen, out of his depth and gangly but there was more at stake than his young pride now, there was Claire. He could not tell Dougal of his feelings for her; it would only make the man more desperate to take her to his bed and whilst his uncle insisted that he did not hold with rape, Jamie was not entirely convinced that he always held himself to that particular standard.


He took a firm grip on his uncle’s arm and sat him down with more force than strictly necessary.

“But I dinna wish ye to embarrass her or yeself either.”

He shoved his mostly untouched plate of food beneath Dougal’s nose.

“Eat this and sober yeself up. I will see that Mistress Beauchamp is alright.”

Jamie didn’t wait for Dougal to respond, nimbly ducking out from behind his seat and striding toward Claire.

“Mistress Beauchamp! I hope the day finds ye well? Ye seem a little lost.”

He smiled as he approached her and the obvious relief that lit her face at his presence made his breath stick in his throat like toffee.

“I am very well Mr McTavish, although I have no idea where one is supposed to queue for a serving of breakfast and as there are not actually any ladies present at the moment I am beginning to realise I am either too early or too late…”

The words tumbled out of her mouth in a jumble and Jamie found himself grinning like an idiot at her, enjoying the sound of her voice and the pretty pink blush that touched her cheeks as she realised she was rambling.

“Aye, the men are here to get their fill before a hunt and it’s no’ the best place for a lass to be on her own, many will have started on the whisky already, ken?”

He gave her a solemn blink in place of a wink. Claire ducked her head and as she did so a single curl tumbled from the carefully pinned tresses and settled in the sweet curve of her collar bone. Without thinking Jamie reached out and delicately moved it behind her ear, his large fingers lightly brushing the smooth skin of her neck.

Jamie felt the tips of his ears begin to burn but as acute as his embarrassment was, he could not tear his eyes from hers. She was looking at him with a mixture of confusion and something else … Jamie was normally very adept at reading people but the expression on Claire’s face was beyond his knowledge. A plate crashed to the ground and a shout went up from further down the hall and like a stone being cast into still water, the stillness between them broke. Claire blinked and looked away, a faint smile on her lips.

“I should head back to the kitchens then, try my luck there.”

Jamie nodded, swallowing a couple of times before answering


His voice cracked and came out in the high-pitched tone of a wee lad and he hastily coughed to clear it. Claire’s lips trembled but she held in her laughter and Jamie thought he had never been more grateful to anyone in his life.

“It would be a wise idea.”

Claire bobbed her head and

“Thank you for your solace, Mr McTavish and please call me Claire.”

“The pleasure was entirely mine, Claire.”

Jamie said savouring the feel of her name on his lips, drawing himself up to his full height, narrowly resisting the urge to bow. Claire turned to go and Jamie watched the sway of her hips as discreetly as he could. Suddenly a thought occurred to him and before he could stop himself he cried

“Ye can call me Jamie!”

Claire turned around and this time she did laugh, but she also nodded and favoured him with a smile that was in no way unkind.

“I’ll call ye ‘pillock’ sit down ye bloody great fool!”

Murtagh had appeared from no-where and gripped Jamie’s elbow firmly steering him back towards his seat, scolding him all the way.

“Can I no’ leave ye alone for five minutes wi’out ye makin’ a scene? Eh? Ye have enough on ye plate wi’out being lumped in as being friendly wi’ the Sassenach.”

Dougal was sat staring at him, probing food from between his teeth with his tongue behind closed lips.

“Did ye spill ye load, laddie?”

He asked and exploded into riotous laughter before Jamie could respond. Murtagh nudged Jamie from behind, urging him to sit down and placed a full plate of food in front of him

“Eat. Then ye and I are goin’ out to the paddock to work on the horses.”

“What about …”

Jamie let his eyes slide toward Dougal. He knew he could not stand sentry over Claire but nor would he knowingly leave her here alone whilst his uncle was in such a mood and despite the compression of his Godfather’s lips, he knew that Murtagh understood.

“Will ye be hunting today Dougal?”

Murtagh asked and was met with a nod and a hearty explanation of Dougal’s aim to bring in a particular stag he had seen on the hills.


Murtagh muttered gruffly when Dougal paused to refill his cup and Jamie nodded, eyes on his plate as Dougal resumed his speech. He didn’t mind suffering Murtagh’s displeasure at making a spectacle of himself, nor Dougal’s mirth at his expense. He didn’t care about any of it, his mind completely filled with the mysterious look that had so briefly crossed Claire’s face and what if anything such a look could mean.

the golden palace [x]
a playlist of my favourite songs from musicals that i personally think deserve more attention (requested by jessiermuellers)

nine people’s favorite thing ([title of show]) // i’ll be here (ordinary days) // my next story (glory days) // disappear (the burnt part boys) // golden palace (now. here. this.) // she loves me (she loves me) // if i could’ve been (working) // marry me a little (marry me a little) // i love you because (i love you because)