Je Suis Prest || Outlander

Chapter 3

While Seònaid and I had been in the woods casting spells, it seemed everyone from twenty miles around had arrived at Lallybroch. It took several minutes to navigate the swarms of people and find Joanie. She sat near the hearth transfixed on someone in the crowd. I picked her up by the arm and urged her to start helping set the table. I grabbed plates and bowls to bring out to the dining area, and turned briskly into a solid wall of a man.

The plates clattered to the ground with a sound that made everyone stop and turn, but only for a moment. To me it felt like eternity. My face grew hot as I knelt down to pick the fallen dishes, and even more so when I bumped heads with this giant stranger. His skull felt as hard as a rock and I wanted to curse him for not leaving me alone to clean up my own mess.

"I am so sorry, it was an accident," I stammered repeatedly because the stranger remained silent. I searched my memory for a name, or some connection to make my error right, but I had never seen this man before. When I worked up the nerve to look up at him fully, the realization hit me. James Fraser. He had the same blue cat eyes as Janet, and a shock of red hair... unevenly clipped with a suspiciously absent lock missing from the side. Gorgeous? Possibly. He was a handsome man, but in his movement, there was a quietness, and a sadness that put my frantic mind at ease. He picked up the rest of the fallen plates, took the stack I was holding in my own hands, and silently carried them to the table himself. Guilt welled up in my chest, not knowing if he was angry with me, or that was just his way.

Janet came out of nowhere and helped me to my feet. "I want you, Joanie, and Laoghaire to sit by me. With her practiced hands, she managed to wrangle the three of us into her chosen seats at the head of the table. "Goodness, where did that blockhead go off to now? Brother!" She rushed out the other door away from the kitchen and returned moments later with none other than James Fraser, who she led by the ear. "You sit and eat. Now, James Fraser." He obeyed, but that did not stop Janet from scolding her "wee" brother. "I'll have no more of you moping about the place with nothing to say to anybody or anything. You sit there and you make good conversation. The work I have put into this meal. Goodness, Ian! Ian Og, come get yer dog out of my dining room this second and bring this plate up to young Janet."

"Ma, Janet's right here!"

"Och, well then." She turned back on her brother and continued to scold him, "James Fraser, you act like you enjoy your sister's company right now or I swear..." I did not want to hear the end of that threat and so I tucked into my plate of food. I had not realized how ravenous I was after our travels and a day spent working in the kitchen and dabbling in witchcraft. After a moment I looked up to catch the final motion of Jamie crossing himself at the table. I felt like a terrible Catholic with my mouth full of roasted potato having not said prayer. I glanced sideways at my mother to see she was observing the same thing with a soft smile.

Dinner passed in a blur and the real festivities began. Music began to play from multiple rooms as the ale, wine, and whiskey began to flow. I had such a day I did not even notice Michael had finally made his appearance. Instead of running over him to repeat the lines I had rehearsed on our journey over, Seònaid walked Joanie and I through a dance she had made up. With all the twirling and complicated steps, I thought it best to kick my shoes of and tuck them under the table out of sight. Hopefully mother would be too preoccupied to notice the indecency.

Being an outsider for most of my life, this party felt like a homecoming. I could not break my habit of scanning the room however and watching the other revelers. Mother was chatting with the ladies, Ian Og was dancing in a way to make the younger bairns laugh hysterically, and James Fraser was huddled in a corner with the one-handed man, Fergus. They seemed to be having the most intimate conversation, with their heads bowed together and I thought "what an unlikely pair that is." Fergus' face was obscured by a bit of hanging garland, but I could tell from their body language that they were comfortable in one another's presence.  Fergus' hook had been replaced with a wooden hand that rested just beneath his breastbone. I observed that they both held a hand close to their ribs in this protective stance, like mirror images of each other. Upon closer inspection, I noticed the fingers on Jamie's right hand stuck out stiffly and at odd angles, like they didn't all belong to the same hand.