Chapter Text
Jamie had managed to maintain his silence through the first two days on horseback from Ardsmuir. He knew he could have made a run for it but what was the point? The only place where he could conceivably hide was Lallybroch and it was the first place they would look for him. And Lord John was likely as capable a horseman as himself - not to mention that despite the restricted diet of prison, Jamie was still a good deal larger than the English soldier and his beast was not in as good shape as the Major’s. Pushing the beast too hard might kill it and then…
There was no point to any of it. None of it would bring him what he wanted. No, he wouldn’t think of her or their child if he could help it - the ache of emptiness was familiar by now but the longing got worse when he tried to picture Claire with their child - was it a son or did they have another daughter? And then there was always the chance that those visions he might conjure would backfire as he slept, being replaced with the fear that something had gone wrong, that Claire had died in childbed along with their babe.
“We’ll stop for the night in Inverness,” Lord John announced, shattering Jamie’s concentration. “It will only be another two or three days before we reach Helwater.”
Jamie merely nodded, looking around at the landscape to avoid Lord John’s curious glance.
Jamie reined in hard when he realized where they were. It was different in the fading afternoon as opposed to the misty dawn - Culloden.
Lord John turned back to see what had captured Jamie’s attention, the color draining from his face when he recognized the field.
“Let us go round,” Lord John said. It had changed in ten years, nature healing the wounded earth where mortars and canon had gouged holes and thrown up the soil. The wounds on the people of Scotland and their way of life were far slower to heal.
“I ken a way round,” Jamie said, breaking his silence before spurring his horse ahead. He had no desire to cross that field again either.
The few words from Jamie appeared to have renewed Lord John’s hopes of carrying on a conversation.
“I still think of my friend constantly,” Lord John confessed. “I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to ride across that field again.”
“I lost more than just one friend there,” Jamie said rather snidely.
“Of course,” Lord John said apologetically.
Jamie pushed his horse a ways ahead, not so he could be mistaken for attempting to run away but because the last time he’d ridden that particular path he had been with Claire - the last ride he’d taken with her, a tragic echo of the first ride he’d taken with her.
Then it was before him - Craigh Na Dun. He glanced over his shoulder to see how far off Lord John was. He could make it to the stones. It had been ten years but perhaps there was some trace of her yet - some sign that would tell him she had made it safely back. He refused to think of what else he might find.
Jamie spurred the horse on further and faster until the horse began to shy away from the incline, spooked by the stones.
“Aye,” he spoke trying to calm the beast as he heard Lord John calling his name, confused and concerned. “I ken why ye don’ want to go up but I’m goin’ whether ye take me or I walk.”
The horse threw him to the ground.
“Jamie!”
Jamie groaned as he rolled and pushed himself up. A sharp pain shot through his hand and a glance showed he’d re-broken several fingers on his right hand - why was it always the right hand? Clutching the hand to his chest he scrambled up the hill.
Lord John wasn’t very far behind him, dismounting and pursuing him on foot.
“Are you all right?” he called after Jamie. “You’re hurt, aren’t you? Come man, let me see.”
Jamie waved him away with his left hand entering the circle of stones and recalling his investigations the day he’d brought Claire back - the first time, the time she’d stayed, chosen him.
There was something different this time. Perhaps it was the season. The first time it had been autumn - October, Claire’s birthday. Now it was spring, almost his birthday. He could hear the bees buzzing and see flowers beginning to open at the base of the stones.
He was drawn to the stone that had taken Claire. He wanted her back more than anything - even just to see her again. He knew nothing would happen if he reached out and touched the stone - it hadn’t worked before when he’d been with her the first time. Nothing had changed but maybe the stones would grant him a vision, an answer to the question that haunted him - what had happened to Claire? To their bairn?
He reached out with his maimed right hand and pressed it to the stone. Pain ripped through him as he forced the broken fingers straight again and then he passed out.