Wild Rose of Ireland {Rewritten Edition}

Chapter One: World's Collide

≽⊰⊹══════ {𝒪𝒩𝐸} ══════⊹⊱≼

 𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡'𝔰 ℭ𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔡𝔢
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Outside Inverness, Scotland
31st October 1743 
Samhain

TW: Violence, Mature Content, Assault, Blood

It had only been a handful of weeks since James Fraser, better known as Jamie, had returned to the highlands of Scotland. The lad having been sent to the Abbey of Ste. Anne de Beaupré in France, by his uncle Dougal. To many, time spent in the Parisian country would have been a welcome get away, but for the red head it had been seeking a healer's touch. The young man had fallen victim to an ax, the heavy weapon having bashed him in the back of the skull resulting in loss of sight. For nigh on a month, it had been touch and go whether the twenty-two year old would live, let alone recover his vision; but as many times before, luck had managed to be on his side. Now, as he sat mounted on his massive ebony destrier near his godfather Murtagh, the young warrior was fit as could be.

"Ye ken everyone was surprised to see ye back so soon." Murtagh spoke, his deep brogue cutting through the air between them. "They thought ye no better than dead...I don't believe I've ever seen Rupert's face look so damned pekid."

"Aye-" Jamie laughed, his cobalt eyes upturned in high spirits as he jested with his companion. "Though I had wished to be returning to Lallybroch....not Leoch. I don't see any good reason why I have ta..." His words drifted off into the four winds as the sound of hoofbeats drew closer. A band of all too familiar highlanders returning to their sides.

The group comprised of seven men, three being very well known to the young man while the rest were clan members he barely could recall. Dougal𑁋 the tallest, partially bald man, sporting a short grey goatee was his uncle. Beside him picking at his teeth was the burliest of the bunch𑁋his cousin Rupert. Whose long brunette locks reminded James more of a lass most days. Lastly the smallest and wiliest of the band, who was lost in drink was Angus. A short mongrel of a man with dark hair and beard, usually seen paired with Rupert or Dougal at all times.

"Ye know exactly why-..." Dougal growled, spurring his grey gelding towards the men. "I best not be hearing anymore grand ideas before Colum has had a chance to speak with ye."

Rolling his dark eyes, Murtagh sighed heavily. The action making the roughhewn brunette's roguish features stand out, expressing his war hardened attitude. "We both ken there's no danger in letting the lad see his sister-...ye just have a dirk up yer arse about the calling of the clans is all."

All eyes slowly drifted towards the older gentleman, a wave of shock and awe flittering amongst the crowd until the sounds of cattle drew their attention back to the present. "What the devil..." Jamie began to question, blinking his eyes rapidly, trying to ensure he was awake. A furry muzzle of a long-horned beast had meandered forth to stand face to face with the lad's horse. Its fur, near the same shade as Jamie's auburn tresses shook fervently, while its long muscular tongue swiped a trail of drool along his forearm.

"They were there for the taking...won't be missed." Angus retorted, motioning to the herd of absconded cattle. An unbelievable lie all men knew, seeing how well taken care of they were.

"So, yer thieves now, is it? St. Peter help ye, ya wee ignorant bastard-" Murtagh once again swore, chastising his friend without care of reprisal.

Around and around the men went, arguing for nearly an hour over the current state of affairs. Dougal's band wanted to keep the animals, wishing to take them back as reparations. While Murtagh and his godson fought to leave them be, the animals being more trouble than what they deemed them worth. Their gruff argument only silenced when the stomping of cantering hooves drew near. Through the thicket of trees, glimpses of red could be seen trying to circle the band. "Lobsterbacks-" Hissed Rupert, spurring his mount to venture forth. Dougal's men following suit as they abandoned the cattle.