4/13/2022

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On The Corporal’s Account [Outlander 1x15 One Shot]

A/N: This is an Outlander One-Shot. The story came about to me in my commute home after watching Wentworth Prison (1x15). Wanted to write a scene where if someone had witnessed just how much Claire and Jamie fought for each other in that cell. I took the liberty of inventing a corporal officer as witness to it all, his first hand account is read by Frank. I didn’t have time to beta this much, so apologies in advance for some errors. Hope you like and it and as always, feel free to leave your comments and suggestions!

Frank closed the diary and ran a hand through his face. Corporal Henry Taylor’s diary was a gift from one his colleagues and he just wanted to scan it for possible leads to his research. What he didn’t expect was to find a story that is similar to what Claire had shared when she “came back”, miraculously, in Scotland after being missing for almost three years.

After Jamie rescues Claire from Capt. Black Jack Randall, he and his kinfolk demand restitution for their pain and suffering. The results wreaks havoc on their relationship. First place winner for best fanfic character, Jamie, at 2016 BiT Awards. .at the hands of the Grand Poobah of All Psychotic Bastards, Black Jack Randall.who remains curiously untouched by Ron’s imagination and remains as hated and vile in his fanfic as the original story. Jamie Fraser/Jonathan 'Black Jack' Randall (25) Claire Beauchamp/Frank Randall (16) Claire Beauchamp/Jonathan 'Black Jack' Randall (9) Jenny Fraser/Ian Murray (8) Jamie Fraser/Original Character(s) (5) Jamie Fraser/Original Female Character(s) (4) Jamie Fraser/Lord John Grey (3) Geillis Duncan/Dougal Mackenzie (3) Alex Randall/Mary Hawkins. Captain Black Jack Randall (played by Tobias Menzies) was one of the most villainous characters on Outlander, showing no mercy towards others and no compassion both in the programme and the Diana.

He didn’t believe Claire, of course. And he still didn’t. However, he couldn’t shake the feeling of some authenticity behind it. If this was Claire, he couldn’t escape feeling the pang in a first hand account of how he was with Jamie Fraser.

November 1743
An account of Corporal Henry Taylor from Wentworth Prison

I was making my usual rounds, securing the perimeter of the lower grounds of the prison, when from the corner, I heard a soft, rustling sound of a door slowly opening.

I saw her enter the prison from the side door that was supposed to be locked and immediately recognized her. How could I not? Her face was plastered in numerous “wanted” signs in taverns and bulletins across the land. She was famous – the Stuart Witch, they said – Claire Fraser, Lady Broch Tuarach. I should have shouted and arrested her on the spot but there was something mesmerizing about her that had me silent and still.

First was her beauty, her mug didn’t do her justice. He shouldn’t think of it but the woman was stunningly beautiful - dirt, grime and all. Second was her gender. Most wives would just stay home, tend to the children and wait for their husbands to come home from work or war. Claire Fraser neither did both. She didn’t stay home but instead, she joined the war as their army’s healer and she didn’t wait for her husband to come home, she was the one rescuing him. I have not known any woman yet that has the same beauty, bravery, and intelligence combined as what I was seeing before my very eyes.

She quietly made her way down to the stairs to the dungeons and I followed her, curious as to what kind of powers she actually possesses to make such an attempt to enter the thick walls of the most ruthless English prison in Scotland.

I knew why she was here. She was looking for her husband – Red Jamie, they call him – James Fraser, Laird Broch Tuarach. He was a big find for the redcoats. As per his file, he was a traitor of the crown, charged with murder and treason, managed to survive the flogging of Black Jack Randall (100 lashes, twice in one week!), successfully freed his captured wife from the prison towers a few months back, a mighty warrior and clan leader.

From accounts of the past day, Captain Jonathan Randall, aka Black Jack Randall, promptly arrived at Wentworth upon hearing the news that he was in captivity. The guard’s tales from last night said of extreme torture as Fraser resisted the captain and refused to surrender. In return, the captain had punched and kicked him all over his body, smashed his hand with a wooden mallet until the bones of his fingers were out of his skin. Shivering, I shook my head trying to erase the picture in my mind. The captain was sadistic, that was well known not just in highlands but in the English army as well. But he was well-connected and was able to rise to rank and authority without questions of his methods. Anybody who dares so meets their end – regardless of who they shout as king.

Focusing back on the couple - Red Jamie and the Stuart Witch – their story was simply too fascinating to pass by. How can the two of the most strange and feared people in the highlands come together in love? Certainly, that was made up or an over exaggeration how things really are.

I was still watching Claire slowly peer through every dim lit prison, careful not to make a sound or be seen. If I wasn’t here, I might daresay she’s doing a pretty good job.

At last, she spotted him in the last cell, deep in the end of the hallway of the dungeons, where Jamie Fraser lay flat, helpless, on the floor out of sheer pain and tiredness. I saw her run inside, call out his name in both relief and desperation (the way she’d called it brought butterflies to my stomach), kneel on the ground, hold him in her arms and place a comforting kiss on the prisoner’s filthy cheek. I was, honestly, taken aback.

Jamie Fraser roused wake. “Claire, how did you?…You must leave, Randall will be coming back soon.”

I heard her respond. “Randall is here? My god, what has he done to you?” She must’ve seen his mangled hand.

“Dinna fash, Sassenach. But you must leave” Red Jamie ordered her casually. My god, even in his worst condition, his thought is still her and her safety. He had the gall to ask of her not to care for him. Even I know there is a line of being noble and being stubborn. Jamie Fraser was the latter but luckily or unluckily, so was his wife.

“No. Not without you” the Stuart Witch found the hammer and a set of keys (where did she get them? Who did she get it from?) and started to free his chained left foot. It was then that I heard footsteps coming down and I knew it had to be the captain. I immediate moved away from the cell and pretended to go back to doing my usual rounds. I got a torch and went inside a different cell as if checking it. He noticed me and motioned me to follow.

I was sure he was going to catch them and I, surprisingly, prayed for mercy on their souls. When he found them, I went back pretending to be back-up but at the same time, I wanted to see the outcome of this. Fortunately, the captain must’ve trusted me enough to let me stay.

“You truly have a gift for showing up at the most unexpected time” the captain said sardonically.

“You beast!”

“You can do better than that.” There was that hidden evil in his voice again.

“You fucking, sadistic, piece of shit! I should have slit your throat when you were laying unconscious at Fort William”

“Yes. I’m afraid you will come to regret that small act of humanity. You’re no coward. I will grant you that. A fit match for your husband and I cannot give you a better compliment than that.”

A minute later, two other corporals tried to take her away from the situation but they were easily outranked by the captain even with Claire’s plea to take her to Sir Fletcher.

Her unsuccessful attempt at escape was futile but Claire Fraser was not a woman who gives up so easily. She continued to push back words against the captain, making him more and more agitated by the second. I was trying to mentally tell her to stop because she’s just hurting her cause.

Claire and Black Jack were in negotiation mode for Jamie’s life. He offered for her to…erm…bed Marley, a prisoner who I am sure has a serious mental condition, and will make everyone watch. It was vile and cruel.

Something triggered within Red Jamie as he was suddenly standing, a weapon on his hand, attacking Marley despite his handicap. Jamie was fast but not fast enough and Black Jack got a hold of Claire by the neck. Naturally, Black Jack Randall was furious and I heard Claire scream as she was held by the captain. He smashed the mallet on the steel bars, just narrowly missing her head.

“Make me a better offer” the captain shouted to Jamie and I was shocked by the next words that came out of Fraser’s mouth.

“Have me. Let her go in safety and you can have me. I won’t struggle. You can do what you wish”

“Jamie, no!” the Lady Lallybroch replied, her hair now dishelved, tears flowing down her eyes, voice hitching loudly, as she saw her husband make a deal with the only two things he has left and the only two things Black Jack wanted: himself and his surrender.

The captain insisted on a brief test of sincerity. I saw Fraser place his good hand on the table but Black Jack wanted his bloodied one. He screeched in pain as he placed it down on the table and Claire screamed protest once again. Fraser pleaded for Claire’s silence with shockingly soft eyes. Black Jack seemed satisfied enough that he let go of Claire to go to Jamie’s side and the woman immediately latched on to her husband.

All three of us saw Black Jack pull out a nail from a thick board and Claire attempted for one last time to make it all stop. Jamie was quick to grab her and she settled on his side, kneeling in front of him, openly sobbing in grief.

The captain hovered the nail in the middle of the broken hand and pounded.

One. Claire held Jamie’s face between her own hands and focused him solely to her.

Two. She brought her face closer to hers and rested it in the hollow of his neck.

Three. Jamie was shaking violently from pain and Claire could do nothing else but hold her husband.

Four. Jamie Fraser let out a scream.

Next thing I knew, Black Jack placed his lips on Fraser’s, testing if he truly won’t budge. I closed my eyes for I couldn’t look upon his sick ways but by the way I heard Claire’s desperation, I knew Fraser didn’t move a muscle just as he promised.

“Take her away” Jamie tried to say coldly but I can see the pained look in eyes that told me other wise of his real feelings.

“We will remember this moment for the rest of our lives” Black Jack declared.

“Take her away” Jamie repeated.

The captain got a hold of Claire but she quickly pulled away from his grasp, running back to Fraser to latch onto him again. “No, let me say goodbye”

She knelt down beside him, openly and shamelessly crying. She caressed his face, looking at his eyes, pleading to him to let her stay. “I can’t leave you” Claire said, extremely wrecked and full of pure affection.

And then suddenly, Jamie’s face turned soft as if he was feeling no pain. He smiled as he looked upon his wife and tenderly said, “Yes, you will. Do as I say. I love you, mo nighean donn.” I could still see Claire mouthing the word “no” as he spoke. Jamie Fraser leaned in for one last kiss for his wife and as they broke part, Claire didn’t stand up but instead, buried her face, yet again, in the hollow of his neck and clung to him for as long as she could.

After a few brief seconds, Black Jack had to force Claire away from Jamie again and push her out the door. “I shall be back shortly.” He said to me but mostly for Fraser, I suppose.

With him and me alone in the cell, I assessed Fraser. How was he still standing up? Was it just pure adrenaline? The pain from the wound? All of it? I felt for the guy, truly, especially, when I saw him reach the nail with his other hand and thought about attempting to pull it out but he was just too tired and weak to even begin.

He didn’t look at me nor did I speak to him. His face told me enough. He was retreating to his own shell, voiding himself of feelings, mentally preparing for whatever the evil captain had planned for him – but most of all, what I saw from his eyes was the will to both remember and forget his wife and that was the part he couldn’t figure out how to do.

I will never forget their faces - so broken but so full of love - as they tried to save each other from this misery; or from what I could feel, convince each other for them to die together instead. Anything and everything as long they won’t be parted.

What I came to find out after this chilling encounter was, at the end of the day, Red Jamie and the Stuart Witch – were simply two people who deeply and devotedly loved one another to a fault. One risked the wrath of an entire English army, the other risked the cruelty of one man. And they did all this for each other, for the love of each other, for love. And to find that in the dark, cold, thick walls of Wentworth Prison, simply, changed my life.

A question began in my mind even before I started writing this entry. I didn’t have the answer at the beginning but I think I do have now at the end - why did I write this and why was I writing about these people? A couple of reasons.

One, if this diary manages to survive, it is to for people to know that Black Jack Randall was cruel, vile and evil man whose sick and torturous antics are never done for the good of the war. It was simply for his own personal pleasure of satisfying his sadistic nature.

Second, that James and Claire Fraser, Laird and Lady Broch Tuarach, also known as Red Jamie and the Stuart Witch, are in their core, human and people. Two people who have shown and made me feel what real love looks like and what a privilege to witness it firsthand despite the circumstance. And for their love and relationship to endure is such a time and place as this was truly extraordinary and beyond anything I’ve ever seen. I can’t wait for this war to end and find that miss that I can and will love the same way.

Third, James and Claire Fraser were the unfortunate victims of Black Jack’s obsession with exerting his authority and displaying his power. If one of them does not make it due to a broken heart, it’s Captain Randall’s fault.

Corporal Henry Taylor

There must’ve been some poetic license to the corporal’s writing because the Claire he knew before and after the war was not that fiercely, loving woman. Not yet, anyway.

When they married, she was 18, unable to define herself yet besides who she was in their relationship. And two years into their marriage, she was only settling to what it’s like to be a history professor’s wife.

The war separated them for close to a decade and when it ended and they went to Scotland for a second honeymoon - the purpose of which was for them to reconnect and to have the conversation of who they were as people now as opposed to who they were before. But that didn’t because Claire disappeared. If Claire and Frank were being honest, their relationship never got to flourish yet to a point where their love intensified to a level of passion that he was reading in the diary and it made him angry to his bone.

He couldn’t get over the fact that she fucking entered Wentworth Prison on her own, for god’s sake, and tried to save him! The building was a maze and it was a risk going in, much less, going out, with an injured Viking of a Scotsman, and believing that they were going to make it out alive.

Was this really Claire? Was this the girl I had married before the war? Or was this the girl who came back after the war but was just too polite to show me? Would she have done the same thing to me had I been in the frontlines? Would she go to lengths, go behind enemy lines, endure torture, just to get me back? Frank thought about it and his conclusion was yes, she would do that for him. However, he also thought, at the time, it will be Claire’s innocence and naiveté that would urge her forward, not an overwhelming sense of commitment and devotion.

Frank thought further. Or if the places were reversed, would he go after her, rescue her, give himself over in exchange for her life? The answer Frank felt was an overwhelming no and he knew why - because if the situation was reversed, he can honestly say that he couldn’t do the same for her. He, as an academic, will simply accept the situation of war and its repercussions. What if he was really forced into the situation? They maybe he’d be forced to make that choice; however, he would do it out of honor and obligation but unfortunately, not out of emotion and love.

The most frustrating thing was that Frank never felt Claire devote herself to him the way the corporal described the incident at Wentworth even when they were together before everything. Claire, in her own simple and unique upbringing, simply followed him, allowed him to decide for them, and never question what it was in their future beyond having a family. He was just happy to have a wife who supported her and then, Claire seemed to fall in that role contently and perfectly. Their life was fine, good and according to society.

It was then that Frank realized that as much as he loved Claire then and now - and he still loves her very very much - their love simply hadn’t pass the threshold of life-altering passion and blind devotion. He had hoped they had the chance now that she’s back and they’re in Boston but Claire was stubborn and holding back. Before, she probably didn’t know who she was yet, probably was soul searching still; but now, she’s her own woman; mature, grown and knows who she was and where (or when?) she belongs - she wasn’t his wife and not in this time and place.

He could see plain as day the everyday struggle of Claire to live back in the 20^th century. Sure, he made a deal with her to forget him – Fraser even asked her to forget him – but I knew the only thoughts that ran deep in her mind are of Jamie Fraser and their child.

He went out of the study, looking to fetch some water but found Claire by the fireplace, caressing the small swell of her stomach with her hands. She hadn’t heard him come in but he heard her speaking sweet nothing of gaelic to her baby bump. He was a Jacobite scholar but he never spoke the language; however, he caught a few familiar phrases.

“Tha gaol agam ort, mo leannan” she whispered, still oblivious to his presence. She looked up, eyes focused on the ceiling but he knew she was seeing somebody else. “Mo ghraidh, tha mi gad ionndrainn cho mòr. Tha gaol agam ort.” She then closed her eyes and napped.

He had more questions than answers and decided to set himself upon a new research trail – Red Jamie and the Stuart Witch. He still wasn’t convinced that this was Claire but he had to be sure. For all their sakes.

Slowly, he went back to the study, pulled up a blank page, and began to write to Reverend Wakefield.

“Dear Reverend, I find myself in need of your assistance once more…”

FIN.

Translation #1: I love you, my darling.

Translation #2: My love, I miss you so much. I love you.