Luceo Non Uro || Outlander

Chapter 1

Wilmington, North Carolina 1770

Marsali

There was a time before Fergus became a ghost in our own home. It had felt as if we were in our own world together, and nothing from the outside could harm us. When I think back on that time now, I still can feel the warmth of our cabin in Wilmington despite the chill of winter Germain was born into. I can see Fergus dancing across the floor with our bairn in his arms, singing his own little waltz of fatherhood.

Sur le Pont d'Avignon
L'on y danse, l'on y danse
Sur le Pont d'Avignon
L'on y danse tous en rond.

Our wee Germain's first word was "papa" of course. It took him several months before he learned to speak a word of English, no doubt due to Fergus' efforts to raise his lad French. By his second year, he and his father were having animated conversations in a language I had no firm grasp of. When I spoke English or Heaven forbid, Gaelic, the boy only looked at me quizzically, as if I were speaking a foreign language. And I suppose I was. He was le fils de Fergus, through and through. He would not even respond to his name when not spoken with a French inflection. His papa was so proud.

With every day that passed, Germain grew to resemble a smaller version of his father. He followed Fergus around the house with the same aristocratic stride, holding his left hand tucked against his ribs as he observed his father doing, not realizing his father's hand was wooden and not flesh like his own. He merely insisted on wearing a glove on his left hand like papa. When Germain was old enough to understand he was capable of mischief, the glint in his eye was exactly the same as his father's. And yet, there was a softness to him that he did not inherit from Fergus. It was the small piece of him that I hoped had come from me.

Since Claire and Daddy had moved west to Fraser's Ridge, we had been left on our own to build our wee family. Most days I wished they were here to share in our joy, and I especially wished my mother could be here to witness her first grandchild's growth. But the little world Fergus and I had created for ourselves was enough... for now.

~~~

"My love, you worry too much," Fergus said while wiping tears from my face. I had just yelled at Germain for the first time and it pained me greatly to see him upset. I wondered if he could even understand why I was shouting. The poor thing was collapsed over his father's knees, inconsolable. His small body shook with each sob.

"He nearly burnt himself on the kettle. What'll we do with two bairns running around?" I had not been planning on telling Fergus I was with child for another few weeks, to be certain. We had lost one bairn early on, about a year after Germain was born. I did not think it would have been possible while Germain was still nursing, and so I had not even realized I was pregnant until it was too late. Fergus was terrified it would happen again. 

He had taken the loss hard, and sought to blame himself. He came to my bedside with flowers every morning, as if they could replace the little life I had lost before I had even known it had sprouted within me. 

His eyes searched mine. "Do you mean..." I nodded and began to tear up again.

"Aye, ye'll be a father again," Fergus rubbed my stomach, which had not yet begun to show signs of my advancing pregnancy.

"Germain, did you hear that? Tu seras un frère," he turned our weeping child over in his lap and whispered to him in French that he would soon have a little brother or sister. He guided Germain's pudgy hand to my stomach. He flexed his fingers, hesitatingly feeling the cloth of my dress. And just like that, our family was expanding... more than we would have liked. 

~ What do you think so far? This story will have some changes from the show, and original content because we sadly don't see much of Fergus and Marsali in the show or book. The first major change will be that in the show Germain is still an infant but I think he would have been a toddler in the summer of 1770.~