Work Text:
November 1776
She woke up and turned to Jamie, sliding her arm over his chest, eyes still closed. She could tell it was morning because of the birdsong. And because of his breathing, she could tell he was awake. With his arm below hers, she felt his forearm slightly twitching, repeatedly. She opened her eyes, slowly, with a sigh, and confirmed her suspicions. He had been awake already and his left fingers tapping the back of his other hand. His own eyes wide open and searching for something.
“What is it?” She mumbled, and burrowed closer to him, reaching for his hands with her own.
“‘Tis the lassie’s birthday today, is it no'?” Her thumb ran softly over his hand. “The 22nd, ye said.” He turned his face to her, at last, and saw her swallow the sudden lump in her throat.
The wound of her loss felt raw still, it had barely been a month since Ocracoke. Yet, she managed a smile and a nod. The corner of his lip shot up. “ Bree-anna ,” he murmured, and turned his hand up to hold hers, rubbing circles with his finger pads on the inside of her wrist, feeling her beating pulse and silently thanking God for it. He made their daughter’s name sound almost like a peaceful prayer, passing out good wishes through time on her special day. “ Bree-uh-na Ellen,” he enunciated with more clearness, and inhaled deeply, letting it out in a quick sigh. “Why’d ye give her both my parents’ names and none of yer parents’? Or yer own for that matter,” he sounded almost frustrated at her. “I never asked,” he added with unexpected bewilderment.
“Well, for one thing, I did promise you to name our child after your father. And you know I’ve never remembered much of my own parents.” A couple of quiet, synchronized breaths later, she found words for her unspoken thoughts. “She had me already, I had to make sure she had however much of you I could give her.”
Misty eyed, he turned sideways, facing her, and placed their joined hands below their chins. “That’s a lovely thought, Sassenach. And verra kind of ye.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead, stealing a breathy chuckle from her.
“Ellen is a beautiful name. But it was a tad selfish of me. I, too, wanted to keep as much of you as I could. I held on to every piece, even when your absence haunted me.” He cupped her cheek, gently caressing her soft, morning-warm skin, making sure she knew he was no ghost.
“What, um,” she licked her lips and breathed for a second, blinking away the tears. “What would you have named her? I never did ask.” As an afterthought, she added, “Not after my parents, then, right?”
“Not particularly, I don't think. No’ unless it had been yer wish. I fantasized about it, ken? While I dwelled in the cave.”
“You did?” She was taken by surprise at this innocent revelation. She felt his leg draw nearer, then it draped over her own legs and pulled her closer with it.
“Aye,” he said without parting lips much, and nodded. “I would have named her after you, Sorcha.”
“Plain Claire?” She scoffed. And then he shook his head.
“ Oath of God ,” he whispered almost in a wish. Her head reared back slightly, and upon seeing her perplexed features, he continued, “Elizabeth.” A wide smile coated his face, and found an unforeseen, hopeful match on hers.