New World Sasanaichs

Two

After getting the pair of men settled–which included concocting a sleeping draught to help them get some rest so they wouldn’t try to resist her magick in the Future–Róisín quickly changed outta the dress she’d been wearing since shortly after rising that Morn. She needed to be able to Travel swiftly, not to mention disguise the fact that she was a lass as much as she possibly could so that if anyone saw her during her Journey, they’d be less likely to accost her. Luckily, she was already taller than the average lass–nearly as tall as the lad who shared the trait of ginger hair with her–so she’d a bit of a headstart in disguising herself.

        Having breasts smaller than what most lads seemed to prefer on a lass also helped her, ’cuz she didn’t really have to do anything to bind them. All she’d to do was slip into the lad’s shirt she Conjured up for herself, then cast something kent as a Glamour on her upper half to make all onlookers think she was completely flat-chested. That left disguising her lower half, which also required a bit of a Glamour on her hipsta make them seem narrower than they really were.

        From there, the young lass Conjured up a kilt made from the plaid of her father’s clan–Clan Morgan–as well as a pair of boots designed to look like any other lad’s. The deep blue that was closer to Cobalt than Navy, its black stripes that criss-crossed to form squares in certain areas, and the tiny red pinstripes’d identify her to those she Intended to visit long before she ever arrived at their home. And considering there were only three Morgans kent to visit this particular home, there was no doubt that just seeing that deep blue from a distance’d garner her a warm welcome. What she Intended to share with this particular household once she arrived would no doubt turn that welcome even warmer, considering the relief it’d give at least one of the people at the destination she’d in mind.

        Sure enough, riding up to the gates of Lallybroch in her deep blue kilt–her fiery hair flying behind her like a sorta cloak–garnered her the sight of the couple who lived in the estate’s manor house. Jenny Murray’s eyes were wide as she reined in, but they were lit up with a Happiness that never seemed to leave her–and would only grow once she explained the reason for her visit. But those eyes were also practically identical to one of the men she’d left behind in the dilapidated cottage, so even if she hadn’t believed Murtagh when he’d told her who they were, she’d have believed them for sure now. She just hoped she was right in her assumption about this lass’ continued Happiness, as well as that of her young husband–Jamie’s best friend, Ian Murray.

        “Och, such a pleasure to see ye again, Róisín!” the brunette lass laughed, grabbing her for a tight embrace once she’d dismounted. “Why did ye no send word that ye were to pay a visit again?”

        “Wasna Time to send any word, Jenny,” Róisín chuckled, Returning the hug before turning her attention to the crippled lad next to her.

        “What’s amiss?” he queried, even as he gently took her hand to kiss her knuckles.

        “Naught that canna be remedied in Time,” the young lass answered. “But let us discuss this inside–no even the servants should be overhearing, and ye ask me honest opinion.”

        Nodding, the Murrays were quick to lead her into the manor house and into its parlor, where Jenny sent the servant who appeared to gather refreshments.

        “Ye said that naught’s amiss that canna be remedied in Time,” Ian finally said once the doors were closed and the room glittered in a way he kent was a result of this lass’ magick. “Whaddaye mean by that, Róisín?”

        “I come bearing news about Jamie, both good and bad,” she told them.

        The brunette lass gasped, nearly choking on her tea as she took in her words. “Ye’ve received word of his whereabouts?”