outlander music

 Bear McCreary’s unintentional crossover. 

Probably the only Black Sails/Outlander crossover we’re likely to get lol but loved getting to hear that wee piece of music, knowing it was written before it was intended/destined to be Outlander’s iconic theme.

Looking for Blogs to Follow

Oh god it’s been forever since I’ve been on tumblr and I need new content and new blogs to follow, so please reblog if you post any of the following! Thank you!!

Phantom of the Opera
Tanz der Vampire
Les Miserables
Musicals in general
Series of Unfortunate Events
Jane Eyre
Any old, classic books, really
History or Sociology
Greek Mythology, especially Hades and Persephone
Anything vintage or antique
Old paintings/architecture

Sound of Music AU - Roll Call

This delightful tidbit is where Nurse Claire (Maria) meets Captain Fraser’s (Captain von Trapp’s) seven children for the first time. ;) You can find more here


One - two - three - four - five - six. There should be seven.

Sure enough, there was an obvious space between children numbers four and five. Loud footfalls were heard as a young girl flew thru the door and skidded into position.

Captain Fraser stepped forward with an outstretched hand and eyebrow raised in silent rebuke. The girl handed him a book, her finger still holding it slightly ajar to mark her page. She made a small noise of dismay as he clapped it shut and handed it to me.

Collected Works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the spine read. A mystery lover reading far above her age group.

Having collected his contraband, he inspected his troops.

Each child had something at fault to be fixed and he corrected them without so much as a word. His eldest’s son’s posture wasn’t all it could be, the youngest daughter’s bow was coming loose from her auburn curls.

He resumed his place at my side and cleared his throat, “Now, children, this is your new nanny, Mistress Beauchamp. Ye may address her as Nurse Claire or Mistress Claire.”

Seven sets of eyes fixed on me with renewed interest, their gazes ranging from mild curiosity to downright disapproval. I swallowed hard and tried to smile at them.

Buck up, Beauchamp, the fiends can smell fear.

“Listen carefully, Nurse, so that ye ken how to call them when ye want them.” He glanced at me to admonish this before turning back to his children. “Ye will step forward and give yer name when ye hear yer signal.”

He pulled a metal whistle from his pocket and began an indistinguishable series of dots and dashes, the tone and pitch each command deafening in the confines of the room. I placed one hand to my ear as I tried to hear the names being shouted at me as the children bopped in and out of their line.

“Ellen!” “William!” “Janet!” “Brian!” “Marsali!” “Joan!”

All went according to the Captain’s instructions until we got to the littlest of the Frasers. Freckled cheeks flushed, the sweetheart stomped forward, just like her siblings, but returned to her place without a word. I caught her father’s expression out the corner of my eye as I tried to hide my smile. His slight amusement was tempered with undeniable pride as he prompted her again.

Her little chin lifted in determination as she repeated her actions, still without introducing herself. It was the Captain’s turn to hide a grin, something he did with great skill.

“Margaret,” he provided.

Little Margaret pulled a face and it was all I could do not to laugh.

Gracious, she was adorable.

He handed me something, saying, “Let’s see how well ye listened.”

The hell was I going to whistle for a child like a dog.

“Oh, don’t trouble yourself, sir. I’ll learn their names,” I tried to brush him off. “You’ve given them such beautiful names, it would be a shame not to use them.”

He sighed, obviously losing his patience with me. “Nurse, Lallybroch is a large estate and I willna have ye shouting after them like a fishmonger. Take it, the children will help ye.”

I accepted the metal tool of belittlement from him. Of course they would help me, they’d help me right out of a job. I wasn’t born yesterday.

“When I want ye, ye’ll hear this,” he continued and began another pattern of notes.

“Stop!” I cut him off. He and the children stared at me, eyes wide with surprise. “I will not answer to a whistle, sir. Whistles are for dogs and other beasts, not for children and certainly not for me.”

He gave me a cold look before turning to leave, apparently finished with my instructions. I blew a short blast on my whistle.

He may be done with me, but I wasn’t done with him.

The man froze, visibly bristling, then turned to face me.

“You didn’t tell me your signal.” I said simply.

He rose up to his full height and glared at me, “Ye can call me Captain.”

With that, he was gone. I stared out the door he had just disappeared thru and heard a chorus of giggles behind me. Maybe they were children after all. I turned back to them and they all snapped back to attention.

“At ease, soldiers.” I commanded, rolling my eyes heavenward when they immediately responded. “Now that we’re alone, could you tell me your names again? And how old you are?”

The eldest Fraser stepped forward. Her dark chestnut hair was plaited over one shoulder, her eyes flashing blue fire as she spoke. “I’m Ellen. I’m sixteen years old and I don’t need a nanny.”

I smiled, “We’ll just be good friends then, shall we?”

With a look of skepticism, Ellen stepped back and her brother, a tall and redheaded chap, stepped forward. “I’m William. I’m fourteen and I’m impossible.”

“Are you?” I laughed, “Who told you that?”

“Mistress Josephine, four nannies ago,” he answered, clearly proud of himself.

The next child, a young teen with freckles and strawberry blonde curls, moved forward, announced “I’m Marsali,” and stepped back into formation.

This one was going to be trouble.

“You didn’t tell me how old you were, Janet,” I grinned, letting her know she didn’t fool me for a second.

“I’m Marsali,” The bookworm stepped forward and shot a look of superiority towards her elder sister. “She’s Janet. She’s thirteen years old, and you’re smart. I’m ten, and I think your outfit is the ugliest I ever saw.”

I looked down at my clothes as the real Marsali stepped back in line. I knew I wasn’t wearing the latest fashion, but what was wrong with jeans and a button up blouse?

“Marsali, you shouldn’t say that.” A chubby cheeked boy between Janet and Marsali scolded.

“Why not? Don’t you think it’s ugly?” She retorted.

“Of course, but it’s not nearly as bad as Nanny Louise’s.” He explained in a matter of fact way, then stepped forward to introduce himself. “I’m Brian. I’m eleven. I’m incorrigible.”

Grinning, I responded, “Congratulations.”

“What’s incorrigible?” He asked, smiling back.

“I think it means you want to be treated like a boy, not a man.”

Satisfied with my answer, he stepped back in line and the next child stepped forward. She looked up at me shyly, motioning me to come closer. I did so and she took my hand.

“I’m Joan, and I’m going to be seven on Tuesday,” her voice was so sweet and innocent, “and I’d like a pink parasol.”

I winked at her, earning me an even sweeter smile. “Pink is my favorite too.”

Little Margaret stomped her foot beside me and I knelt in front of her. “Yes, sweetheart, and you’re Margaret?”

Beaming at me, now that we were on the same level, she held up all five fingers on her left hand. A leftie perhaps? “You’re five years old?” I feigned astonishment, much to her delight. “Why, you’re almost all grown up!”

Margaret and Joan shared a giggle, completely disregarding their former rigid formality. A look down the line told me the rest had as well. They now studied me in wary curiosity.

Who could blame them? Twelve nannies in, what, five years? That’s a new nanny every five months, on average. And hadn’t Captain Fraser mentioned that the last one only stayed two days?

“Can I tell you a secret?” I asked in a loud whisper, now that I had their full attention. “I’ve never been a nanny before.”

Janet got a mischievous gleam in her eye and I suddenly regretted voicing that thought. “You mean you don’t know anything about what you’re supposed to do?”

I shrugged, deciding to run with it since the cat was already out of the proverbial bag. “Not a thing. I could bandage a wound with my eyes closed but I haven’t the foggiest idea what to do with children.”

Brian snickered as Janet closed in on me. “Well,” she began slowly, “the best way to start is to tell Father to mind his own business.”

I tipped my head back and laughed outright. I had to admit, the idea was tempting. William eagerly hopped on Janet’s advice bandwagon as the rest of them crowded around me, “And never come to dinner on time!”

Marsali giggled, adding, “Never eat your soup quietly!”

Brian slurped loudly in my ear before practically shouting “Always blow your nose during desert!”

“Don’t listen to them, Nurse Claire!” A new voice sounded from behind me and I turned to see Margaret glaring at her siblings with all the wrath a five year old could muster, which was a considerable amount.

“Oh?” I chuckled. “Why is that?”

Throwing her arms about me, she proclaimed, “Because I like you!”

My heart felt like it was about to melt into a puddle right then and there. These children were so precious and they desperately needed the love I could give them.

I hugged precious little Margaret as a boisterous voice announced the housekeeper’s arrival. “Alright, children, ye best be off on yer walk. ‘Tis half past two an’ ye ken how yer father gets when ye are behind yer time,” the plump woman ensconced in an apron commanded as she began to shoo the children out of the room. “Dinna dawdle. Quick, quick, quick.”

They reluctantly obeyed, leaving by a door I hadn’t noticed before. The younger girls peeked over their shoulder to catch a last glimpse of me before going out and my heart skipped a beat.

“Nurse Claire, I’m Lallybroch’s housekeeper. Ye can call me Mrs Fitz, as everyone else does,” she extended a callused hand and I shook it.

“Pleased to meet you, and do call me Claire,” I requested. “‘Nurse’ is far too formal.”

Mrs Fitz shook her head, giving me a compassionate look. “If it isna formal, it isna acceptable a’ Lallybroch. Come, I’ll show ye to yer room.”

She led the way thru the door the children had exited from and I caught a quick glimpse of them as we started up the stairs.

“Poor things,” I commented quite to myself. I thought I heard Mrs Fitz make some sort of Scottish noise of amusement, but was distracted by a sudden movement in my pocket. I dropped my bags in surprise as whatever it was made a desperate attempt to flee. My hand closed around something slimy as I removed the wriggling creature and I let go of it on reflex.

A rather perturbed looking frog hopped away from my feet as Mrs Fitz spoke, “Ye got off lucky, 'twas a snake wi’ Nanny Louise.“

If Music Be The Food Of Love

I’ve never written anything before, so be gentle with me! But I was thinking about Outlander and the little things that make up our lives everyday that Claire (or myself) would miss when she fell through the stones. For me, I think the thing I would miss most is music. :) I think this little moment takes place just before Jamie and Claire leave Lallybroch in Dragonfly in Amber to go visit Lord Lovat. Read, enjoy, give me some feedback!

@bonnie-wee-swordsman, @writtenthroughtime, @lenny9987, @gotham-ruaidh, @takemeawaytocamelot, @westerhos, @dingbatland would love if you would read! If you like it, reblog? :)

The bright lights blinded Claire to all but the first rows of onlooking audience members. She stood tall and took a deep, calming breath. The conductor raised his arms, and as one they began. She felt herself dissolve into the choir, as though they shared one mind for the space of the song. She could feel the deep, rumbling tones of the bass line, accompanied by the light, fluttering notes from the soprano section. And in the center of the intonations, she found the place where she belonged, where she fit perfectly.

The harmony line danced around the melody, jumping to meet it and then darting away. She knew this song well, had sung it a hundred times in rehearsal. While she sang, she lost herself in the rolling waves of music. She couldn’t tell where her voice ended and the rest of the choir began. As the song swelled into a crescendo around her, she felt whole. She could feel the song gently caress her, wrap it’s arms around her as though it were a physical being, holding her tight and safe.  

She awoke with the strains of the song just outside of her conscious hearing. If she concentrated she could almost feel the perfect locking in of the last chord. A chord that was not only pleasing to the ear, but somehow made the heart feel whole. The dancing lines of melody and harmony, dipping and weaving together in a constant exchange. An expression of emotion so much stronger than mere words or actions. But now she couldn’t recall the flowing melody that flitted around the edges of her brain. She couldn’t share the simple song that was pulsing through her veins. The knowledge of that nearly crushed her. Left her lonelier for her own time than she had been in a long, long time.

Why hadn’t she paid attention more to the small details that comprised her life before? How could she have taken for granted the simplicity of written music? She could never reproduce the notes and chords of the compositions she longed to hear, that had not even been written yet. And even if she could somehow replicate those songs, how would she play them? She had no piano, no instrument other than her own singular voice. There was a good chance she would never again hear the perfection of a chord that holds your soul and then releases it just as quickly.

She closed her eyes and let the waves of bitter longing wash over her. She would allow herself this small moment of remembrance for her time before coming back to reality. Reaching over, she felt Jamie, warm and strong, lying beside her. She could live with the lost memories of music so long she had him beside her.

Claire’s touch on his arm woke Jamie. He looked over at his wife, a sleepy smile on his face. He reached over, caressing her face with his large, callous hands.

“What are ye thinkin’ about, mo nighean donn? Ye have that far off look in yer eyes. Where are ye?” Claire looked down, not wanting to meeting his eyes. She sat up in their bed, stretching the sleepiness from her limbs.

“It was just a dream, from before. It’s nothing important.” Sitting up with her, Jamie stroked her back. She leaned into his touch, wanting the comfort of something familiar and solid.

“Sassenach, every thought ye have is important to me.” He turned to hold her chin in his hands, forcing her eyes to look at him. “Please, tell me what’s causing that troublin’ look in yer eyes. Let me help ye.”

Claire looked deep into her husband’s slanted blue eyes. Telling him would not bring back the music she dreamt of. And even if it did, Jamie could not hear the music she wanted to share with him so much. He could understand the fact that there was music playing, but he couldn’t make sense of the sounds. The only music Jamie could hear at all was the rhythmic beating of a drum. But still, Jamie understood the words and meaning of the music, even if he could not make sense of the scales that were being played.

Jamie’s hand moved from her cheek down to hold her hand between his, comfort flowing from his touch. Her eyes followed the motion, looking at her hand in his.

“It’s silly really. Just a dream.” She paused, wondering if that was enough of an explanation. Jamie held her gaze, waiting for her to continue. Claire took a deep breath, going on.

“I was dreaming about music. I was on stage, singing with the choral group I was a part of, back in my time. We were performing a song we had sung a million times in rehearsal, a song that I loved. The dream was so real, I could feel the music, could feel the resonance in my chest. It was perfect. I woke up, and I couldn’t remember how the song went. I’m thinking about it now, and I still can’t recall it.” She was getting worked up, and a single tear slid down her cheek as she said “And I can’t ask anyone to help me think of it, because the song hasn’t been written yet here in this time. And even if I could figure out the name of the song, how could I replicate it? I’m just me, how could I replicate harmony?”

She kept her gaze down, feeling silly that she was so emotional about something that was so selfish. What could music do to help stop Bonnie Prince Charlie and the disaster that would be Culloden? Jamie brought one hand up to wipe away the tears that now spilled freely from her eyes.

“Sassenach, I’d no idea -” Claire gently pulled her hand away from him, struggling to untangle herself from the sheets as she rose from the bed. She didn’t want to cry in front of him, feeling selfish about wanting something that was so clearly not a necessity. They were here in Lallybroch, getting ready to march with the soldiers, and all she could think about was wanting to hear a song.

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure why I am crying over something so simple.” She walked out of their room quickly, going outside to feel the crisp morning air on her skin and to avoid any more questions.  

Jamie watched her go. He ached to fill that void for her. She had given up so much for him, and never once complained. Claire truly was an amazing woman. He wanted to give her a fraction of what she had given him: love, support, and comfort. He would give her anything, as he had vowed those years ago at their wedding ceremony. Yet music…the one thing he could not physically bring to her himself. He cursed the day he had been struck in the head, knocking the ability to hear and understand music out of his head.

Suddenly, an idea struck him. He may not be able to recreate the sounds she remembered, but he could give her something else. He dressed quickly in his plaid, pulled on his boots, and raced to the stables to get a horse. As he rode, he made a list in his head of the houses he needed to visit, hoping everything would fall into place by evening.


Claire stayed outside most of the day, keeping her distance from the other residence of Lallybroch. She didn’t want her melancholy mood to rub off onto anyone else. She worked in the garden, collecting herbs and plants that she would need to treat the ailments of the soldiers as they traveled. As she worked, she hummed a simple children’s song to herself. It bothered her that she couldn’t hum the song from her dream. Why was she still thinking about music and songs in a time like this?

Looking up, Claire saw Jamie striding towards her. The setting sun cast his hair in a shade of deep auburn, with tinges of gold and copper sprinkled throughout. Claire smiled as arrived at her side and held his hand out for her.

“Ye’ve been working mighty hard out here today Sassenach. It’s time for supper, no?”

“I suppose you’re right. I am rather hungry.”

Leading her towards the house on his arm, Jamie seemed to have an excited energy about him. Usually, he was calm and collected, especially here at his home in Lallybroch. Claire wondered what he could have been up to all day. Maybe he had been working on plans to move his men to Lord Lovat’s land with Murtaugh.

As they rounded the final turn from the garden to Lallybroch, Claire came to a complete stop. Standing on the steps of the house were a dozen men in formation, all dressed in full Highland Scots regalia. Each man held a bagpipe in his arms waiting to play. Leading her forward, Jamie gave the men a signal, and they began to play.

(Play song here and continue reading for the full effect!)

Claire felt as though she were floating forward towards to music, the familiar tune of Amazing Grace pulling her closer. As she got close enough to see the faces of the men, she noticed she recognized them. These were the men Jamie would be traveling with to Lord Lovat’s lands. As her gaze drifted to the men on the end, she was surprised to see Murtaugh standing with the men, bagpipe in hand, playing with all the gusto he could muster.

She didn’t realize she was crying until Jamie handed her his handkerchief, wrapping his arms around her from behind and settling his head in the crook of her neck and slowly rocking her back and forth. Claire closed her eyes, letting the song become burned into her memory. When the song finally came to an end, she applauded loudly, and went up to each of the men to thank them.

As the men began to walk back towards their homes, Jamie shook each of their hands in thanks. As Murtaugh passed her, Claire gave him the warmest embrace she had ever given the man. She never imaged that Murtaugh could play the bagpipes, let alone play them so well. When all the men had all left, Claire turned to Jamie, embracing him as tightly as she could.

“Jamie, I can’t believe you put this together for me.” She said into his chest.

“Sassenach,” he said, pulling away to look down into her eyes. “Yer heart is my heart. Whatever it is ye want, if it is in my power to give it to ye, I’ll see it done.” He leaned down, placing a gentle kiss to her lips. “Now, shall we see about that supper?”

She smiled, placed her hand in his arm, and together they walked into the house.

P.S. - I know the song not historically accurate and wouldn’t technically be written until 1779, but it felt right here. :)


I could feel my gray wrappings being inexorably stripped away, and small bright streaks of pain shot through me like lightning bolts piercing clouds.

I had no wish to come back, no desire to feel again. I didn’t want to know love, only to have it ripped away once more.

But it was too late. I knew that, even as I fought to hold the gray shroud around me. Fighting only hastened its dissolution; it was like grasping shreds of cloud, that vanished in cold mist between my fingers. I could feel the light coming, blinding and searing.

Sound of Music AU- Captain Fraser

Before you read this first installment, know that I’m going two different ways with this prompt!
1. The Sound of Music AU will be a few select moments from the movie where Claire is Maria and Jamie is the Captain.
2. The Sound of the Highlands will be a complete gender swapped retelling of the Sound of Music with Nanny Jamie as Maria and Dr Claire as the Captain. This will be episodic and updated as I can, BUT I CANNA RESIST.

You can find more of this AU here.

The car pulled to a stop in the lavish driveway of the Fraser’s ancestral home. I pressed my nose against the cold glass, trying to get a better look at the towering manor house.

“An’ here ye be Miss, Lallybroch at last,” commented the driver as he opened my door.

I nodded to him in thanks as he unloaded my small suitcase and guitar from the spacious trunk. Instead of setting them down and returning to the car, he started to head towards the gigantic front door.

“Oh!” I said in surprise, “I can take my bags, if you like.”

The driver gave me a look of amusement over his shoulder, but continued walking. I reached his side just in time for him to knock on the door.

The heavy, wooden door creaked open, revealing a rather grumpy looking man in a suit.

“Hello! I’m Claire Beauchamp, the nurse you hired for the summer.” I introduced myself and reached out my hand in greeting.

He didn’t take the hint, but instead stared at me, “And I’m the butler, Miss Beauchamp.”

Embarrassment mingled with disappointment washed over me as I offered my hand again, “Oh. Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you Mr…”

“Germain.” He shook my hand limply, ushering me into the grand house.

Jesus H Roosevelt Christ, this place was even more impressive on the inside.

Mr Germain cleared his throat, giving me a serious look. “Wait here, please.”

I wandered away from the door as soon as he disappeared around the corner, unable to help myself from taking a closer look at a portrait on the wall. It was exquisite. A young woman sat on a plush settee, auburn curls tumbling over her shoulders. I reached out my hand to trace the intricate carving of the frame and nearly jumped out of my skin when a voice spoke from just behind me.

“I’ll thank ye to no’ touch the art.”

I spun around, coming face to face with a tall and finely built man. His cold, blue eyes bore into mine as I quickly apologized, then added, “She’s beautiful, who is she?”

“My mother,” he answered, the muscles of his jaw tightening in annoyance.

His hair was the same deep auburn as the woman in the portrait, but wasn’t as cropped as the standard military fashion. He wore it a little longer, the soft curls brushing the tops of his ears and brows.

At five feet and nine inches, I was used to matching or surpassing men in the height department. Captain Fraser all but towered over me as I tipped my head back to look at him.

“Why are ye staring a’ me?” He bluntly asked, breaking into my mental assessment of his appearance.

Hesitating slightly, but then deciding to throw tact to the wind, I answered with a smile, “Well, it’s just that you don’t much look like a Captain, Captain.”

“And ye dinna look much like a nanny,” the Captain retorted hotly.

“That’s because I’m a nurse,” I grinned, “not a nanny”

He made a noise that communicated disapproval and acceptance, all at once, deep in his throat, “Mmhmm. Ye’ll have to change before ye meet the bairns.”

“Excuse me?” I blinked.

“Ye do own a set o’ scrubs, aye?” Captain Fraser asked, looking more and more annoyed by the second.

“Well, yes, but I didn’t pack –”

He sighed heavily. “I’ll have Mrs Fitz find something in yer size first thing in the morning. Ye’ll do for the time being. Now, Nurse…”

“Claire.” I provided.

Nodding, he continued, “Nurse Claire, I dinna ken how much the agency told ye.”

I shrugged, “Not much. Seven kids under the age of sixteen, youngest with severe allergies and other miscellaneous health concerns.”

He gestured for me to follow him down the hallway, not bothering to look at me as he spoke. “Ye are the twelfth nanny to come to care for my children since my wife died. I do hope ye’ll be an improvement on the last one. She was here barely more than an hour, two a’ most.”

Good Lord, what were these children? Monsters?

“What, ah, is wrong with them?”

Spinning on his heel, he leveled me with an ice cold stare. “There’s nothing wrong with my children, Nurse Claire, only the nannies.”

“Of course,” I back-peddled.

Watch yourself, Beauchamp.

“They were completely incapable of maintaining routine and discipline. I cannot abide my children to be without those two principles. Do I make myself clear, Nurse?

I nodded, then seeing he expected a verbal answer I replied, “Yes, sir.”

He turned away from me again, continuing down the hall.

“Every morning ye will tutor them in their studies. They are all fluent in French and the Gaelic, as well as English, save the youngest,” he instructed, then added in afterthought, “She does speak them conversationally, though.”

I could speak French fluently myself and looked forward to using the language again. Gaelic, however, was completely foreign to me. My steps slowed as I contemplated the reality of a small band of children who would be able to have entire conversations right in front of me without my knowing what on earth they were discussing. The Captain’s authoritative voice spurred me to catch up with him as he continued with my instructions.

“Ye will see to it that they study their individual coursework no less than four hours a day. Each afternoon, they will be given one-on-one instruction by their tutors in out of doors exercises. Bed time is eight o’clock on the dot, no exceptions.”

Slightly overwhelmed and confused, I asked, “Excuse me, sir, but when do they play?”

“Ye will do exactly as I say,” He paused with his hand on the doorknob.

“Yes, sir!” I saluted in huff.

His jaw clenched again, but he didn’t respond as he opened the door and stepped thru.

I followed him and found myself in a spacious and immaculately clean classroom. Seven desks sat evenly spaced against one wall, large maps and complicated diagrams lined the opposing. The walls were painted a stark white, making the room seem more like an institution than a place of study.

There wasn’t a piece of childish artwork to be found, except a very detailed still life of a bowl of fruit propped up on the top of one desk. It hardly counted. It was the most boring piece of art I had ever saw in my life, and I had been to many an art museum.

Captain Fraser pulled a small whistle from his pocket and blew a series of sharp, shrill notes. The sound of disorganized footsteps was heard beyond another door, but it quickly settled into a rhythmic marching. The door at the end of the row of desks opened and a single file line of children emerged.

At least, I thought they were children.

Dressed in a uniform outfit of green with white accents and moving in a precision that made the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace look sloppy, they could very well be a small brigade of the Captain’s military forces.

What on earth have you gotten yourself into, Beauchamp?


Outlander Season 2 Meme: [5/9] Favourite Visual Moments: You are so like him.

“Days of Plenty”: Claire’s Journey

I never dreamed of this sorrow, 
I never thought I’d have reason to lament, 

I hoped I’d never know heartbreak, 

How I wish I could change the way things went

I wanted nothing but goodness, I wanted reason to prevail, 

Not this bare emptiness. 

I wanted Days of Plenty. 

But I refuse to feel tragic, 

I am aching for more than pain and grief. 

There has got to be meaning,

 Most of all when a life has been so brief. 

I have got to learn something, How can I give him any less? 

I want life to go on. 

I want Days of Plenty 

 You have to Believe, 

There is reason for Hope. 

You have to Believe 

That the answers will come. 

You can’t let this defeat you. 

I won’t less this defeat you. 

You must fight to keep him there, 

Within you! 

So Believe that he mattered
And Believe that he always will

He will always be with you
He’ll be part of the days you’ve yet to fill

He will live in your bounty

He will live as you carry on your life

So carry on 
Full of Hope
He’ll be there
For all your Days of Plenty

Lyrics: “Days of Plenty” (Little Women) 

Dance of the Druids (feat. Raya Yarbrough)
Bear McCreary
Dance of the Druids (feat. Raya Yarbrough)

I was washing the dishes and listening to this song and I went into this trance and the only thing I could imagine was that I was a warrior elf who was having a impediment with the House of China

 * evil dishes be gone * 

* there’s no space for you in this realm of water and iron * 

* aye guard my back sponges *

…and when I finished I was both happy and sad to know that another battle had been won but the war still existed because my mother had shouted “ Fá I have another glass here ” and so my watch begins again 

Part Five: O Captain! My Captain!

Here’s the next installment! You can read the previous scenes here.

I stepped out onto the terrace for a breath of fresh air and found the Fraser children had had the same idea.

Ellen and Willie were laughing as they expertly waltzed circles around Jenny and Brian, the elder pair trying to teach the younger the fundamentals of the dance and not succeeding overmuch. Marsali called out, what I’m sure she thought were, helpful suggestions as she stood atop a bench. Joan and Maggie beamed from ear to ear, twirling ‘round and ‘round in the only dance step they knew: excitement.

“Here, let me try,” I offered when a new song began and took Jenny’s place.

The teenager rolled her eyes melodramatically, warning, “Watch your toes, Mistress Claire.”

I winked at Brian whose brows were furrowed in determination, giving his nose a playful tweak. “Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it.”

“I keep losing count,” he complained.

Marsali cackled with glee, “How hard is it to count to three?”

Giving her a look, I cut off Brian’s retort. “Then I’ll count, you just move your feet. Ready? ONE - two - three, ONE - two - three, ONE - two - three.”

We shuffled about the terrace, song after song. Brian did catch on quickly with a more patient teacher and soon we even tried to throw in a turn. It didn’t end well, crashing headlong into Ellen and Willie instead of changing direction.

“Again, again!” Brian begged as a new melody started up.

“But this is a foxtrot,” I tried to explain, “I’m not sure I know it well en–”

“May I be of assistance?” The Captain quite suddenly asked, taking me completely by surprise. How could a man that tall appear out of thin air without a sound?

My hand flew to my neck, my pulse beating erratically as I stammered, “I, ah, that is, you should teach Ellen. She’s a magnificent dancer.”

He looked slightly amused as he offered his hand, “She kens the foxtrot well enough.”

I turned to find Ellen dutifully teaching Willie the steps. “Slow, quick, quick,” her voice floated past as they danced by.

“Show us too, Father,” Brian urged, grabbing Jenny by the hands and pulling her back into the middle of the terrace. “How does it go?”

“May I have this dance?” He asked, bowing low. His hand was still outstretched and I took it reluctantly. Brian tried to emulate his father’s courtly bow and nearly fell over in the process. I heard the captain chuckle as he drew me closer, placing his left hand on my lower back and stepping into the dance.

God, he smelled wonderful.

A more than competent dancer himself, he guided me effortlessly around the veranda for a time before commenting, “I wanted to thank ye, Nurse Claire, for all ye’ve done for my children.”

“Oh, but they’re so delightful that it’s really no trouble at all, Captain, truly.” I rambled like a lovesick schoolgirl, making my cheeks grow warm with embarrassment.

How had I never noticed what a deep blue his eyes were? They were magnificent. Rimmed in long lashes that somehow were a lighter shade of auburn at their base, the glow of the ballroom made them gleam like precious gemstones. He smiled then and it took my very breath away.

He didn’t speak again and, as I didn’t trust my own tongue, I embraced the silence. I felt like he may think me staring at him, so I dropped my gaze. My left hand rested just beside his lapel and the sparkle of my mother’s ring caught my eye.

She and my father had died in a car accident when I was young, making the small cabochon ruby encircled in diamonds of infinite value to me. I wore it on my ring finger, as that’s where it fit the best, and I absently wondered what they would have thought of my dashing Captain Fraser.

My Captain Fraser.

He wasn’t mine. He could never be mine. At least ten years my senior, he was completely out of my league in terms of social status, and a widower with seven children to boot.

The song ended long before I was ready, my heart aching as he stepped away.

Pull yourself together, Beauchamp.

Marsali suddenly appeared beside me, commenting loudly “Your face is all red.”

“Is it?” I asked lamely, scrambling for something intelligent to say. “I guess I’m not used to dancing.”

Brilliant, I mentally kicked myself, you’re bloody brilliant.

Footsteps echoed on the paved patio and I turned to see Lady Dunsany walking towards us with Ian in her wake. She was making an effort to hide her jealous rage, but the scathing tone of her voice and set of her jaw gave her away. “Why, that was beautiful. What a lovely couple you’d make.”

The light in the captain’s eyes disappeared at once and it had nothing to do with Ian blocking the glow from the ballroom. I caught the distracted glance he gave her as he responded, making me wonder if I had flustered him the way he had me. A hint of a blush crept above his neatly pressed collar and I wondered what it would be like to kiss him.

I felt three sets of eyes trained on me as I realized he had said it was time for the children to go to bed.

“Right! Yes!” I agreed, jerking to attention and tearing my eyes from his lips, “Let’s go, children. Come along.”

Turning my back to the adults, I quickly gathered the children into a clump, making preparations to leave the party via the garden next to the veranda. We would disappear to the east wing without disturbing the guests and in relative haste. I wished the ground would open and swallow me whole, but retiring with the children was the next best thing.

We were almost to the cobblestone path when a strong arm came around my shoulders and guided me back, “Jamie! Ye canna let the lass be tucked awa’ with the bairns for the night! She must come to the party!”

My heart skipped a beat at the discovery of the captain’s pet name. I knew his given name was James, and had assumed that he went by some sort of nickname with his family, but to hear it spoken aloud…

“Oh, but really, I can’t, I–” I tried to protest as we moved closer and closer to Lady Geneva and the Captain.

“Dinna fash,” Ian waved his hand in dismissal, then beckoned to Germain who happened to walk past, “Seat the lass next to me, will ye?”

The disgruntled butler looked to me and back to Ian, “If you insist, Mr. Murray.”

I broke the awkward silence that followed by pointing out the obvious, “I’m, ah, not dressed for it, Mr. Murray.”

Ian nodded, seeming to notice this for the first time, and grinned, “Ye have time to change, I’ll see to it.”

Lady Geneva had followed me up to my room despite my best effort to ditch her.

I opened my closet doors and stared stupidly at the clothing. All suitable for being with the children, even a few business formal outfits for if the occasion arose, but none would work for the dinner downstairs. “I’m not sure I have anything that would be appropriate.”

“Nonsense,” Lady Geneva spoke from behind me, sounding very condescending, “Where is that lovely little thing you had on when the Captain couldn’t keep his eyes off you?”

I spun around, “Couldn’t what?”

She smiled coyly as she stood next to me, “Come now, we are women; we know when a man notices us. You really are quite attractive, you know. The captain would hardly be a man if he didn’t notice you”

“I do hope you’re joking, Lady Dunsany,” I swallowed hard.

“Not at all.” She turned to me, eyes wide in mock innocence as she held a blue sundress in her hands.

Holyrood. I had wore the dress to Holyrood when she and the captain took the children on a tour of the palace. They hadn’t really needed me, which meant I had time to wander behind them and admire the place myself.

My mind replayed every interaction I’ve ever had with the man, searching for something that could have betrayed my feelings.

“But I’ve never–”

“Oh, you wouldn’t have to, my dear,” she looked over her shoulder as she laid the dress on my bed, “There’s nothing more irresistible to a man than a woman who’s in love with him.”

A woman who’s in love with him.

The air seemed to leave my lungs in a rush, “Is that so?”

“Of course! And what makes it all so nice is that he thinks he’s in love with you.”

“No,” I shook my head, “That’s not true.”

He couldn’t be in love with me.

Her eyebrows rose, “Surely, you’ve noticed the way he looks into your eyes… and you were blushing just now when the two of you were dancing.”

I’d always been told everything I thought showed on my face, but I had worked so hard to not give myself away. To love him from a distance, without his even being aware of it.

It seemed I had failed.

“Don’t worry, my dear, he’ll get over it soon enough, I should think,” shrugged noncommittally, “Men do, you know.”

I knew he would, but I wasn’t sure I could. Something deep within my heart told me that I would always love him.

So what now?

I couldn’t go on being a nanny to his children when he knew my feelings towards him. I couldn’t face him, couldn’t look him in the eye and see the truth.

What was the truth? Do I believe this woman? Does he really love me?

My heart sank as I realized that even if he did love me, we could never be together. We were from two completely different worlds, completely opposite stations in life. I couldn’t live in his and I would never ask him to lower himself to mine.

I have to leave.

I jumped, not realizing I had said this aloud, as Lady Geneva asked, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Say No To This”: A Hamilton/Outlander musical crossover ficlet

@anemated  asked: Another Claire prompt that I thought of, potentially Book#9 and combines your favorite things - a chance meeting Alexander Hamilton and/or Eliza (before or after the Revolution) 

You may have been expecting a serious historical encounter. Instead, you’re getting the silliest thing  ever written. 

Reader, if you are not familiar with Hamilton the Musical, let this one pass you by. UTTER. NONSENSE. 





After the Revolution has ended, Jamie and Claire are walking arm-in-arm through the streets of New York. 

Sound of Music AU - Dinner

Here’s the next installment of my SOM AU! You others here.

I almost fell down stairs in my haste to get to the dining room. Not even officially my first day of work and I was already late for dinner.

Seriously, Beauchamp? Do you not own a watch?

I could hear the captain’s voice praying over the meal as I took hold of the doorknob. “…in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

“Amen,” the children echoed and crossed themselves, suppressing grins as I hurried to the empty seat at the foot of the table.

The captain picked up his fork, not giving me so much as a glance. “Kind of ye to join us, Nurse.”

I nodded in deference, my face flaming as I pulled out my chair. .

“Fuh—dge!” I caught myself just in time as I sat down hard on what felt like a hedgehog. Reaching beneath me, I found a good sized pine cone. I hid it behind me and caught my employer’s look of disdain.

“I dinna ken how ye were raised, Nurse Claire, but we have dessert a’ the end o’ the meal.”

“Ah, yes, of course.” I muttered under my breath. I covertly looked round the table as I began to eat. The children were all giving great attention to their dinner.

At first glance, at least.

William looked as though he had swallowed the frog they had gifted me and Janet wasn’t much better off. Marsali kept glancing at me worriedly out the corner of her eye, while Joan was doing the same as she studied her father. Brian was staring a hole into his mashed potatoes, pushing his food around absently. Only the bookends of the family appeared to be untouched by this afternoon’s excitement.

I could work with this.

“I’d like to thank each of you for the gift you left in my pocket this afternoon,” I commented, trying to keep my voice neutral.

Janet coughed around a mouth full of roast beef as Joan became quite suddenly pale.

“Oh, aye? “An’ wha’ gift would tha’ be?” The captain raised a brow in question.

I met his gaze with the most angelic look I could muster.  “It’s a secret.”

“Mhmm,” he made a sound of decided disapproval before going back to his meal, “then ye best keep it an’ let us eat in peace.”

The children were still around me, all pretense of eating coming to a complete halt.


“It was very kind of you, you know,” I continued, my voice sugary sweet, “to ease my nerves as I got acquainted with a new household. It was wonderful to have my first moments with you be so warm and happy and pleasant.”

I made sure to catch the Captain’s eye and grinned like an idiot. He forced a smile in return, meanwhile Joan dissolved into tears.

“What is the matter, Joan?” he asked rather testily.

Joan sat bolt upright at the question, but couldn’t stop the sobs that began to shake her frail shoulders. “N-nothing, Father.”

The captain looked at each of his children in turn with utter annoyance and bewilderment as they all began to cry, “Is this something I should expect at every meal, Nurse Claire?”

I was doing my level best not to laugh outright as I waved a hand dismissively, “Oh, they’re alright, Captain.”

My comment prompted a fresh wave of dismay and the captain sighed audibly with relief as the butler entered the room.

“A telegram for you, sir.” Germain handed him the missive with a look of disdain at the children.

Ellen perked up at the butler’s words and asked, “Who delivered it, Germain?”

“The McNab boy, Miss Ellen.”

I caught the light that suddenly appeared in her eye as she asked to be excused from the table. Hmm, a bit of a crush maybe?

Her father made a low Scottish noise of negation at her request and looked up to address the table, “I’ll be leaving for Edinburgh in the morn, children.”

Their wails increased in volume and each had a word or two to say about the matter. Despite Captain Fraser’s stern look, it was the quavering voice of their youngest sibling that silenced them in the end.

“How long will you be gone this time, Father?” Margaret asked, puppy dog eyes well in place.

Good Lord, I think I’d melt into a puddle right on the spot if she looked at me like that.

He shook his head, carefully avoiding her gaze. “I’m no’ sure, Margaret.”

Damn fool. He did know.

Janet’s head came up with a snap, too bright to not catch what was going on. “Are you going to visit Lady Dunsany again?”

“Mind your own business, Jenny,” William hissed in her ear.

Aha, first nickname of the group. I wonder how many others there’d be.

“‘Tis business that calls me to Edinburgh, but, aye, I will, Janet.” The captain answered.

“Why can’t we ever get to see her?” Jenny was apparently not thru with her father.

Brian glared at her across the table, “Why would she want to meet you?

She stuck out her tongue at him in retaliation, prompting their father to speak which put an end to the sibling warfare.

“The Lady Geneva will be returning wi’ me,” The children bounced with excitement at the news of her visit, but they outright rejoiced when the captain added, “an’ Uncle Ian too.”

Not while I’m around

An ‘If Outlander were a musical’ moment 

(Voyager spoilers) 

Jamie has just killed Dunsaney. 

There’s so much commotion and uproar that Jamie is left for a few minutes holding the newborn in a quiet corner. 

Jamie can’t look away from the tiny face. 

He came so close to being hurt, today, this boy….his boy….and he’s all alone in the world.

He touches Willie’s cheek…

and things start to fall into place in his heart. 


Nothing’s gonna harm you, not while I’m around.
Nothing’s gonna harm you, no sir, not while I’m around.

Demons are prowling everywhere, nowadays,
I’ll send them howling,
I don’t care, I’ve got ways.

[He holds the baby tighter against his chest, brows drawing tight.]

No one’s gonna hurt you,
No one’s gonna dare.
Others can desert you,
Not to worry, whistle, I’ll be there.

[He closes his eyes, so panicked and terrified for what will become of the boy, how little power Jamie himself will have to protect the boy, to teach him, to love him, even.. ]

Demons’ll charm you with a smile, for a while,
But in time…

[A nurse comes and takes the baby; Jamie relinquishes him, but doesn’t look away as he promises] 

Nothing can harm you
Not while I’m around…

And he’ll be around as long as he can. For his son. 

Keep reading

{we have time, love} for a love transcendent of time and place. for magic stones and healing draughts. for blood oaths and whiskey, days in the heather and nights in a lover’s arms. for the two decades lived apart so that a forever could be spent together…a mix for a certain fiery-haired scotsman and his whiskey-eyed sassenach. listen here

1) skye boat song (outlander theme), bear mccreary feat. raya yarbrough 2) bloom, the paper kites 3) from this valley, the civil wars 4) like real people do, hozier 5) oh darling, gossling 6) dear true love, sleeping at last 7) grow old with me, tom odell 8) hearts on fire (acoustic), passenger 9) falling slowly, glen hansard & marketa irglova 10) dust to dust, the civil wars 11) wings, birdy 12) life is long, ruth moody