Thy life’s asunder, thine heart’s ardor~ 3
Here it is! The next installment of the shipwreck AU. As always, @takemeawaytocamelot is a dream to work with ❤️ Hope you all enjoy! See the previous chapter HERE.
Jamie woke abruptly, fighting back the restraining hands that held him down. His heart was hammering, blind anger and panic still coursing through his body despite the pain that stabbed at him with each move he made.
“Be still!”
Part of his brain grasped onto that voice. She wouldn’t be on that field…
“Jamie, no!”
He could hear gasping and realized it was his own breathing. Forcing his eyes open, he saw that it was still late. The fire was burning low, emanating flickers of soft light that illuminated Claire’s face as she saw awareness come into his eyes. Her grip on his shoulders lessened as they looked at each other.
“All right?” she asked softly, brushing his hair away from his damp face.
“Aye,” he rasped.
His throat was sore. A Dhia he hoped he hadn’t cried out in his sleep. Once Claire helped him to sit upright, Jamie leaned his head back against the tree. He’d been dreaming of Culloden again, and little wonder - everything hurt. A soft breeze floated over him, making him shiver despite feeling parched and burnt by the sun. Claire brought the water skin to his lips, taking extra care not to touch him.
“I’m sorry if I frightened ye.”
She paused, meeting his eyes as she shook her head.
“You didn’t.”
Jamie nodded, watching her as she examined his visible wounds. Seeing her face, it struck him that she might think she hadn’t cared for him properly. He swallowed.
“What woke me… it was only a dream, ken?”
Claire took his hand, examining the splinter wound. “Only a dream?” she asked, meeting his eyes.
She’d known what he’d meant. He looked away, seeing the first rays of sunlight beginning to show themselves through the trees.
“Jamie?”
He turned back, heart stopping at the look on her face. Some pity, yes. Compassion, most certainly. But what struck him was the look of honest understanding.
I may not have visible wounds, but I know the invisible, her eyes said.
*******
“Wouldn’t it be easier if ye just drop me in the ocean?”
“Yes.”
“Then where are we going?”
After a quiet breakfast, Jamie had asked Claire if there was a place to bathe that was near to her camp. Truthfully, he ached abominably, felt very ill, and could smell himself in a way that made him embarrassed to be in her presence. Claire had risen, gathered her spear and water skin, and forced him to walk deeper inland as he leaned against her.
“Shush.”
“Shush, she says,” he muttered in Gaelic, almost tripping over a fallen palm tree frond. Only Claire’s reflexes kept them both from toppling into a heap on the ground.
“It will help,” Claire responded, ignoring his tone and keeping her pace.
If ye dinna kill me first.
“Sassenach…”
“This way.”
Jamie exhaled, focusing all of his energy on not collapsing. The very thought of simply lying down sounded almost more exquisite than the pain relief Claire had promised him.
“In there,” Claire said, wiping her brow with the back of her hand.
Jamie looked around the cave entrance that she’d pointed at. Surrounded by trees, the air around them seems to glow in the light of the sun that moved through the leaves overhead. Claire moved to brush branches away from an opening in the rock fissure before them.
Jamie held out a hand to steady himself as they made their way down. And down. And down.
“How far does the path go, Sassenach?” he asked lowly.
Despite the air being cooler, he could feel the moisture that coated his face and ran down his back. His legs were beginning to tremble. He focused on her grip on him and followed her confident steps until he realized the path was leveling out.
“Can you see it?” she asked.
“I canna see anything.”
She left him standing, quietly moving about and making rustling noises. Jamie could hear the cave breathe and felt a small qualm go through his body at the reminder of the cave at Lallybroch.
Suddenly, a small flame illuminated Claire’s face. He blinked, taking comfort in the warm light that was growing in her hands as she lit the torch that was buried in the ground. Satisfied that it would burn steadily, she rose and held out her hand.
“Come.”
He stepped carefully, trying not to grimace. After journeying to this place, his shoulder and ribs ached with each breath and each pull and push of muscle seemed to emanate a burning jolt of pain that ran up his body and into his head. Taking her hand, he allowed her to tow him into the large cavern space.
“Is that..?”
Claire smiled at him, gently pulling him closer to the edge of the clear black lake. The air was humid here. Jamie could see the wisps of moisture hanging over the still surface of the water, the faint scent of sulfur slightly burning in his nose. Claire turned, the flames illuminating her against the black backdrop of the cave.
“Take off your shirt.”
Jamie blinked.
“What?”
Claire laughed, grabbing at the hem of his grubby sark.
“It will get wet,” she said practically, pulling it up.
“Christ, woman!” Jamie exclaimed, backing away and promptly tripping over a log that was behind him. “Ifrinn!”
Claire moved to help but he held out his hand, halting her. Sitting on the log, Jamie gazed suspiciously at her. Slowly, she sank to the ground and sat before him, gazing placidly back.
“I willna be taking my shirt off, lass,” he said definitively. “Nor anything else! It’s no’ proper.”
“The water helps healing,” Claire replied firmly.
“Aye, well, leave me be and-“
“You’ll drown.”
He opened his mouth to argue but promptly shut it again. Between the shipwreck, the journey to the cave, and his current physical limitations, he was shaking like a leaf. He exhaled heavily through his nose.
“It will help,” she said softly, whisky eyes glowing up at him.
“Lass…” he said, closing his eyes to avoid looking at her.
Admittedly, he’d almost give anything for relief of his bodily ailments. He wouldn’t, however, dishonor the lass or himself. And then, there were the scars…
“Jamie.”
He opened his eyes and his mouth fell open. She stood, naked above the waste, looking over her shoulder at him. She lifted her hand, smoothing the thick mass of her hair out of the way. The original cuts would have been deep. They were five long runnels running from her right shoulder, across her back, and fading where the curve of her ribs created her waistline. Her eyes were sure and honest, lacking hesitancy or embarrassment.
“Claire…”
He rose, transfixed. She stood still, watching him as he hesitantly reached out to touch one of the scars. She flinched slightly at his touch. He met her eyes to seek permission, and, after a moment, she nodded. Gently, he followed the line down, his hand cupping her waist as the marks faded. Gooseflesh had risen over her skin, making the tiny down hairs on her arms rise. Looking up, he found her lips had parted and the look of trust she gave him smote him to his very core.
“Take off your shirt?” she asked, her hand covering the one he’d placed on her waist. “The water will help.”
He hesitated, then nodded. Backing up, he took a deep breath and pulled the linen over his head. He dropped it on the ground and looked up. He stared.
“Have you never seen a naked woman before?” she asked, seeming amused.
Her garments lay at her feet. That was the first thing he tried to focus on when he’d ripped his eyes away from her.
“No’ one so close,” he gasped, torn between laughing and dying of embarrassment.
“Your face is red.”
“Aye, to be sure,” he rejoined, meeting her eyes again. “Christ lass, ye’ve no’ a stitch on!”
She moved toward him, slowly, like she would approach a startled animal.
“Your turn,” she said, reaching for his flies.
Jamie jumped back and nearly tripped over the log again.
“No,” he said firmly. “Absolutely not.”
Claire cocked her head, eyebrow raised. The flames from the torch put her body in dark relief, as it had in the light of the campfire. This time, though, he actually knew what was under her clothing. Jamie swallowed, feeling the heat of embarrassment spreading to more than just his face.
“The breeks stay on lass, and that’s all abou’ it.”
Claire smiled at him, but nodded, holding out her hand to help. She tucked her shoulder under his arm and suddenly stopped as her hand reached behind his back. Jamie closed his eyes. He’d forgotten, in the awkwardness.
Claire stepped behind him, her fingertips gently caressing the hundreds of welts that scarred his back. He could feel her, almost see her face in his mind, and was startled at the knowledge that she wouldn’t be afraid. Claire would know, perhaps more than anyone else he’d ever met, about being haunted by scars and memories. The thought was oddly comforting.
Silently, she stepped in front of him again and squeezed his hand.
“Come. It’s shallow, just there.”
She led him to the pool, heedless of her nakedness. Try as he might, Jamie couldn’t look away. In the light, her skin was a sun kissed gold; there, in the dark, she glowed like ivory as she sank into the hot spring. A siren calling him to his death. He answered, slowly moving into the water, every cut and bruise stinging as he allowed her to wade him deeper.
Jamie felt his body relaxing, the silence and stillness of this place putting his mind at peace and easing the pain and stiffness. Claire turned, holding him by the elbows as a gentle current began towing them. Her curls lay limp, the ends floating in the water, clinging to her breasts. He felt her start kicking as they floated into deeper waters and he reached for her without thought.
He felt his world fix itself on her face as her confidence changed to surprise and guarded hesitance. Her eyes shone bright in the dimness, meeting his in silent trust. His hands at her waist held her up; gentle, so that she could pull away if she wished. She didn’t.
Jamie had never held a naked woman. Had never thought he would, in fact, after Culloden and it’s aftermath. Thoughts of decency warred with the overwhelming sense of wanting her nearer. He felt her hands skim from his elbows up to his shoulders and he shuddered, despite the heat of the water that surrounded them. He pulled her closer, his heart beating loudly in his ears as he stopped before her breasts could brush his chest.
Claire stared at him, her breathing heavier than usual. Slowly, she brought her hand behind his neck and flushed her body with his, her breath soft against his shoulder.
“God,” he whispered, holding her close, his hands running smoothly up and down her back.
Her skin was soft and warm, slippery in the oily water. Jamie closed his eyes, feeling her heartbeat against his chest, the way her nipples brushed against him as she breathed, the feeling of her fingers running through his hair. He cupped her neck in his hand, sliding his fingers up to tangle in her wild curls. Claire whimpered, pulling herself higher so that her nose brushed his ear.
His free hand slid down her waist, gripping her backside and pulling her closer. Claire hitched her leg around his hip and Jamie pulled her to him again, breath coming short. He could feel her, bare and open for him under the water. The next time, he thrust back against her. This time, he whimpered.
Claire pulled back, meeting his eyes. Her eyes were soft, yet burning, despite the lack of light in that area of the lake. She touched his face, moving her hips against him as her nose brushed his. He could feel her breath against his lips as she shakily exhaled.
What he wouldn’t give to kiss her, to reach down and touch her just there…
Claire’s grip on him slipped and pain shot down his arm, making him hiss out a breath. She looked at him, mortified.
“I’m sorry… I…”
Jamie blinked, shrugging the offending joint gingerly.
“It’s alright, lass. Truly… I…”
They’d reached another bank and Claire found her footing again. Still, she held on to him. Jamie stared at her, appalled at his actions.
“Claire, I am sorry,” he said. “I should never have…”
He looked at her helplessly, ashamed at his behavior. She stared at him, her parted lips and flushed cheeks making him start to lose his head all over again. Smiling a little shakily, she nodded.
“Forgiven.”