A little OUTLANDER fan fiction story
The fog consumed her every slow step. She sought objects to anchor herself. There was nothing but a heavy void.
“Hello,” she called out, “can anyone hear me?”
No-one replied. Unsure which way to head, she stood still and squeezed her bottom lip between her thumb and finger. Panic threatened to steal her courage. The solid ground beneath her feet gave nothing away. The only surety was how long she had been walking; just ten minutes, yet it felt a world away from the village she had left behind. The landlady had issued her warning before she left the pub, “Be careful if you’re heading out, the fog’s on its way.”
But how bad could it get, she had thought, looking out of the window at the clear Scottish sky…
It would be better to keep moving than to stay still, so she pushed on with care, hoping that if she went far enough, she may emerge out into the low winter sun, and find her way back.
With every step she prayed for a glimmer of light to head towards. Some reassurance. It felt like an out of body experience or that she was the only person left in the world.
A tree root tripped her, and she fell blindly to the floor, “Damn it.”
“Are you ok?”
“Who’s there?” her neck prickled, and vulnerability screamed in her ears.
“Don’t be afraid! It’s just the fog, it unnerves people who aren’t used to it.” His voice was deep and Scottish, kind and concerned.
She decided not to be afraid of him. “I think I’m lost, but I’m okay, my tumble didn’t hurt,” she stood up and steadied herself with her flat palm against the rough bark of an ancient tree.
“Can I show you the way?” a soft Scottish accent curled around his words.
“You can see in this?” She blinked and wondered if her eyes were malfunctioning, failing her. Perhaps they were missing clues. She scratched her head and sighed.
“I know this forest well, grew up around here. This fog is as familiar as the land it swallows. I’m going to need to take your hand… here.”
She thrust her arms blindly in front, towards his voice, and he caught her right hand. She gasped.
“Please, don’t worry, you’re safe with me.” Something about his voice, calmed her quick breath, and she knew it would be okay. He pulled her in close enough for his tall frame to loom. Her eyes sought to read his face, but still the fog blurred detail, “Come with me, this way.”
He gently led her, which way she did not know, but gladly she left behind her stillness and fear.
“Do you still live near here?”
“Aye, well kind of.”
Her feet moved in pace with his quick step, it felt like they danced in perfect rhythm. “And this fog, it lasts for a long time?”
“Well, if I told you it could last for eternity, would you believe me?”
She swallowed, whilst her mind strung together his words, and tried to make sense of them. He really did know the area well, because despite the weird density of the fog, he moved quickly and purposefully, and she had no choice but to trust they would not fall or collide with anything bigger than the branch or leaves, which brushed past them in their haste.
“Its not far now, just a little further this way, can you keep up with me?” he laughed, and she imagined him wink at her. In her mind she could see his face, and yet in reality she hadn’t yet caught sight of it.
“Do I have a choice?”
“Not if you want to beat this fog and not perish in the cold. It will be dark soon.”
“Dark? How long have I been lost? It was lunchtime, when I left the pub…”
“Round these parts, you don’t always get what you bargain on.”
A pin prick of light pierced the fog, like a star glimmering in the night sky. “Do you see it? The light?” He called behind to her.
“I do!” Suddenly her legs were heavy and tired. They had been running faster than she realised but his grip tightened on her hand.
“Almost there, don’t stop now!”
“I’m so tired though…”
“You must keep running!”
The pin prick grew with every second and her mysterious companion, now illuminated, took her breath away. His red hair, danced on his shoulders, as his strong legs propelled him forwards. He seemed vaguely familiar, in a strange way. She squinted and her eyes adjusted to the light, “I can’t take another step,” she whispered. Her feet stopped running and her knees buckled.
He turned. Crouched in front of her, she felt as though he spoke to her soul, “Come, trust me, you’re almost there.” His eyes held her gaze, and his nod punctuated his words.
She shook her head, “I just need to lay here for a moment.”
“No! You can’t do that!” His commanding voice boomed, as he swept her up off the floor and threw her through the wall of light. She felt weightless, as her body glided through the air. And she landed gently, beneath a twisted oak tree. The fog, already dissipating, took with it, her rescuer.
“Thank you!” she called.
“Always happy to help a Sassenach,” echoed from the almost empty fog.
“Who are you?” But she knew he was gone before she finished uttering the words.
With care, she stood and brushed herself off. The village pub was again in sight, so she wandered, dazed, towards it. Her head spun with questions.
“You look like you need a drink lass, here,” the kind landlady pushed a whiskey into her hand. “Sit, you look white as a sheet.”
Her eyes caught sight of a painting above the bar, a strong red-headed Scot, running out of a dense foggy forest. She knocked back her whiskey in one.
“Ahh, I see. Did you by any chance encounter the fog?”
She nodded and pointed at the picture, unable to verbalise the jumble of words in her brain.
“Well, that must mean you encountered our Jamie Fraser, you lucky lass. Legend has it that he roams the fog looking for his Sassenach, Claire.”
“Yes, he called me that! Sassenach! He’s not from our time, is he?”
“Well, time doesn’t seem to make sense in that fog, things happen which aren’t always easy to explain.” The landlady squeezed her hand, and she knew not to ask anything more.
“Would you do me the honour of writing what happened in our book? We like to keep track you see, of our encounters with Jamie.”
A weathered old leather-bound book was pulled out from beneath the counter and laid carefully upon the bar, a fountain pen placed beside it. “But first, let me get you another dram to stop your hands from shaking.”
She stared up at the painting of handsome Jamie Fraser and hoped that the fog would be back again soon.
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