#jamie fraser

I—canna stay long, Uncle,” Ian said. He looked pale, under the lines of tattooing, but stood erect. “I said they must let

me come to say goodbye.”

Jamie had gone white to the lips.

“Jesus, Ian,” he whispered.

“The naming ceremony is tonight,” Ian said, trying not to look at us. “They say that after that I will be Indian, and I must

not speak any tongue but the Kahnyen’kehaka; I canna speak again in English, or the Gaelic.” He smiled painfully. “And I ken ye didna have much Mohawk.”

“Ian, ye canna be doing this!”

“I’ve done it, Uncle Jamie,” Ian said softly. He looked at me then.

“Auntie. Will ye say to my mother that I willna forget her? My Da will know, I think.”

“Oh, Ian!” I hugged him hard, and his arms went gently around me.

“Ye can leave in the morning,” he said to Jamie. “They willna prevent ye.”

I let him go, and he crossed the hut to where Roger stood, looking stunned. Ian offered him a hand.

“I am sorry for what we did to ye,” he said quietly. “Ye’ll take good care of my cousin and the bairn?”

Roger took his hand and shook it. He cleared his throat and found his voice.

“I will,” he said. “I promise.”

Then Ian turned to Jamie.

“No, Ian,” he said. “God, no, lad. Let it be me!”

Ian smiled, though his eyes were full of tears. “Ye said to me once, that my life wasna meant to be wasted,” he said. “It

won’t be.” He held out his arms. “I willna forget you, either, Uncle Jamie.”

Daughter, I canna say if I shall see you again.

My hope is that it shall be so and that all will be mended between us.

I’ve been thinking about your question of whether revenge would

heal the wrong done to you. I advise you now that

you must not seek it.“

"For the sake of your soul,

for the sake of your own life, you must find the grace

to forgive.

Freedom is hard-won,but it is not the fruit of murder.

Do not fear that he will escape vengeance.”

“Such a man carries with him the seeds of his own destruction.

If he does not die by my hand, it’ll be by another,

but it must not be by your hand.

Hear me, for the sake of the love I bear you.

Your loving father,

James Fraser.”

Waiting for the new episode #Providence

I found this poem and it reminds me of Bree and Jamie

Life without She…

Life without Her was empty …

it’s so fragile, it’s so slow and even cold,

a sigh that does not understand the end

or a desire that even hurts to remember.

It’s that She was everything and He did not say

what the wind sweetly predicted

that without her I could not breathe

nor would her tears stop crying.

He no longer finds the muse of passions

nor in his soul treasures illusions

arrested in the past lives …

It is that time nor life have been able

redeem from sadness what was lost

and the ephemeral is changed into immortal

when the soul has not been able to renounce.

Mariela Marianetti

_Auntie,” he said hesitantly. “Will ye not forgive him?”

“Forgive him?” I stared at him. “For what? For Roger?”

He grimaced.

“No. It was a grievous mistake, but we would do the same again, thinking matters as we did. No—for Bonnet.”

“For Stephen Bonnet? How can he possibly think I blame him for that? I’ve never said such a thing to him!” And I had been too busy thinking that he blamed me, to even consider it.

Ian scratched a hand through his hair.

“Well…do ye not see, Auntie? He blames himself for it. He has, ever since the man robbed us on the river; and now wi’ what he’s done to my cousin…” He shrugged, looking mildly embarrassed. “He’s fair eaten up with it, and knowing that you’re angry wi’ him—”

“But I’m not angry with him! I thought he was angry with me, because I didn’t tell him Bonnet’s name right away.”

“Och.” Ian looked as though he didn’t know whether to laugh or look distressed. “Well, I daresay it would ha’ saved us a bit of trouble if ye had, but no, I’m sure it’s not that, Auntie. After all, by the time Cousin Brianna told ye, we’d already met yon MacKenzie on the mountainside and done him a bit of no good.”

New video about J and C