Triallaire

Hope For A Second Chance

15 January, 1767

The Artemis

JAMIE POV

After checking on the cargo, Jamie decided to return to his cabin, where he had left Catrìona sleeping that morning. Something about her was... off... lately. She seemed quieter than she had been when they were together in Paris, and she seemed very easily agitated by just about anything, but mostly him. Once Jamie determined that one of the triggers was him asking her to lie with him, he ultimately decided to lay off in fear of upsetting her further, but it was definitely taking its toll on him. As he entered the cabin, he found his wife with a rather distressed look on her face as she stood in front of the mirror, which alarmed Jamie. "What is it?" he asked her.

"My hair ," she said with exasperation. "There's white in it!" Jamie had to pause for a moment, and then he had to fight off the urge to laugh. Jamie had a few white hairs himself near his temples and in his beard when he grew it out, but it never bothered him. Catrìona's hair looked a bit atrocious at the moment because her red hairs were growing back in, leaving a very distinct line between the brown she came back with and the red she had grown since. Her hair had grown several inches already, leaving a very short red section and a longer brown section.

"I... dinnae see any white," Jamie replied as he came into the cabin, and she plucked a piece and showed it to him - to him, at least, it still looked pretty red, though perhaps more blonde than red. "It doesnae look white te me."

"There's more than one," she said, sifting through her hair to reveal a small patch of white near her scalp, and Jamie couldn't help but chuckle, which earned him a glare from his wife. "Ye think this is funny?"

"Amusin'," Jamie replied, giving her a cheeky grin. "Yer forty-five, Catrìona. Yer no' gettin' any younger. It's te be expected. Look here - I have white hairs, too."

"But yer a man, it's expected! And attractive as well. On me, it jus' means I'm gettin' auld and... dried up," she replied, turning her attention back to her reflection as she tried to hide her silvery hairs, and Jamie stopped her, taking her hands in his and turning her to face them.

"I like the grey," he told her, bringing her hands to his lips to kiss them, then brought up his hand to stroke her hair. "It's like a piece of silver moonlight... Yer a matured woman, mo nighean ruadh , and I like ye fine, silver hairs or no'." Her cheeks flushed a little pink, and she glanced away shyly.

"Well, tha's verra kind of ye, but I still am no' ready te accept it," she replied. "I dyed it when the war started. I was thirty-eight, still kind of young, and I certainly didnae have any grey or white hairs then. I wasnae expectin' te see it when my red hair came back."

"If it helps any, ye still drive me mad wi' lust," Jamie told her, wrapping his arms around her and burying his lips into her neck. She pulled away from him meekly, evidently uncomfortable with this interaction. "Catrìona..."

"Sorry, I... I just... I should go back te the infirmary, check on my patients," she said, pulling herself from his arms, and then she was gone. Jamie let out a soft sigh; Aye, she was definitely behaving strangely. The Catrìona he knew wouldn't get so upset about something so small. What could be going on with her?

↞~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~↠

16 January, 1767

CAOIMHE POV

The air was growing warmer, so Caoimhe decided to forgo her shawl as she went for a walk up on the deck. She leaned against the bulkhead, glancing up as she watched Archie, who was seated on one of the battens of the ship above her, joking with one of the sailors as he tightened the sails. Caoimhe let out a sigh, daydreaming for a moment that she was the one up there, rather than stuck down on the deck surrounded by men who thought her too weak to handle such work simply because she was a woman.