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~ December 31st, 1748. 11:50pm. Lallybroch ~
Claire stood in the doorway of the Laird’s room looking at the bed where her two young daughters — both of whom had valiantly tried to stay awake and greet the new year — were taken off to their dreams by Hypnos. She leaned her hip against the doorjamb, basking in the sight before her. Softly, she began singing under her breath.
Claire felt two hands wind their way around her waist, her back gently pulled to lean against a warm, solid presence. So familiar and comforting were these hands she neither started nor startled, only welcomed them by smoothing her own over the new intrusion.
“I’m surprised Jenny hasn’t locked you away in the study by now. Won’t the first footing begin soon?” Claire felt his quiet chuckle as his chest slightly bounced against her.
“Aye, I expect she would did she think to look for me up here.” Jamie theatrically, though quietly, sighed, his warm breath caressing her ear. “It’s nights like this I’m glad at least one of our lasses had the sense to take after their bonny mam’s looks instead of their Da’s. At least I ken Faith willna have to suffer the injustices and indignities set against us redheids.”
Claire brought her hand up to her mouth, stifling the laugh that threatened to bubble forth.
They were quiet then, simply content to drink in the sight of their daughters — their marvels — as they stood there swaying together while the last minutes of the year slipped by. The noises from the Hogmanay party below all but disappeared as Claire leaned her head back against Jamie’s shoulder, an appreciative hum passing her lips.
“What was it ye were singing before, when I first came up? I dinna think I recognized those words.”
“Oh.” She felt her cheeks flush, not having realized he heard her. “It’s a poem actually, turned to music. Or... will be a poem, rather. ‘Auld Lang Syne’ by a man named Robert Burns.”
Claire could practically hear Jamie’s ears prick at the title.
“A Scottish poet, then?”
“Yes, quite a famous one at that. People around the world will sing his poem, particularly at the new year. Though, English speakers do change it a bit from the original, the Scots language being what it is and all.” She turned her head to smile teasingly at him.
“Mmphmm,” Jamie replied. Ever the Scotsman. “Would ye sing a bit for me then?” he asked softly.
Claire turned her head back towards the bed, and began quietly, loud enough only for her single audience member.
Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And auld lang syne?
For auld lang syne, my dear
For auld lang syne
We’ll take a cup of kindness yet
For auld lang syne
It was Jamie’s turn to hum in appreciation. “Ye’ll ken I canna decipher the melody at all. But what I ken is that my wife has the loveliest voice.”
“And what I ken,” Claire said, doing her best impression of her ginger Scot, “is that my husband is a flatterer. And more than a little biased.” She moved her hip back in an attempt to bump his.
“Aye, I am and I didna mind admitting it one bit.” Jamie turned Claire so that she was now facing him. “Doesna mean I’m wrong, though,” he said through a smirk.
She snaked a hand up to run it soothingly through his thick red curls. “Like I said: flatterer.”
“That song makes me mindful, ye ken. Of all the hardships we’ve been through these past years. All the people we’ve lost. Friends. And family.” Seeing Jamie’s brows creased in thought Claire reached up on tiptoe to kiss it, as if that could wipe the worry away. She hoped, at least, she could continue to be a balm for him in this new year as he always had been for her.
“The decision to come back to the Highlands, despite knowing the difficulties we’d face here after Culloden. The abundance of raids by the Red Coats. The scarcity of practically everything else,” he said sadly as he shook his head. “Even with your valuable knowledge of the future that’s saved us more than once...” he trailed off.
But then he lifted his head to look over her shoulder. Claire could see his eyes brighten as they took in the sight of their peacefully slumbering daughters before they reconnected with hers. Brilliant sapphires linking with crystalline whisky. “All of it. Those hardships all pale in significance to the miracles I have right here in this room and in my arms. My three beautiful lasses.”
Claire felt her heart soar, the smile that spread across her face as brilliant as the sun itself.
“I wouldna want to forget those difficulties if it meant I’d forget even one moment with ye.”
She reached up, then, to pull him down for a kiss, making sure it was one he wouldn’t forget for a long, long time to come yet. They broke apart only when they heard a sudden cheer go up from downstairs. Midnight.
Claire finished her song.
And there’s a hand my trusty friend
And give me a hand o’ thine
And we’ll take a right good-will draught
For auld lang syne.
“Happy New Year, my love.”
“Bliadhna Mhath Ùr, mo chridhe.”
Only then did they fully step into the Laird’s room to tuck their daughters in before finding a quiet place for themselves to start the new year as they did the last: together.