1stwitness | For Claire

Being around people isn't a bad thing. But for Ichabod, from time to time, it starts to get wearing, and that's when he takes himself off into the nearest patch of wilderness for a while.

The nearest patch of wilderness today happens to be the Milliways woods.

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From:

an_outlander

It's still hard to believe the war is over, but it's days like today that it really hits her all over again.

Her plans are to spend the day gathering some local herbs while Frank occupies himself with his family history and dusty documents, but she's in no hurry; the university professor in her husband shows itself when he's involved in any form of research, be it for work or simple, personal interest.

So she's enjoying the landscape, the quiet, the still-wonderful ability to not have to measure out her days in patients and minutes and lives kept alive or--in the worst cases--mercifully ended.

She doesn't even notice she's not alone, so wonderful and still new-again is the ability to simply be at peace. With other countries, with nature--with yourself.

From:

1stwitness

It's no surprise that he'd find someone else out here, not really even any surprise that it's someone he hasn't seen before, and the last thing Ichabod wants to do is to disturb her peace.

So, he settles at the foot of a tree to enjoy his own, and let her notice him in her own time.

From:

an_outlander

She's a bit surprised when she does notice him, though his clothing surprises her even more.

She has no idea what to think of that, and so she simply blinks twice and says simply, "Hello," though it's slightly cautious; it's Scotland, after all, and she's been called sassenach more than once already in tones far from kind.

From:

1stwitness

He looks up at her and smiles, and the returning "Hello" is most definitely not in a Scottish accent.

From:

an_outlander

It's a slight relief; she has no problem with Scots in general, and has met many a friendly one. At the same time, after the way some men behaved towards her in the local pub, she's no desire to deal with that sort of thing when she's been having such a lovely day so far.

Her caution is--well, at least mostly; he is, after all, someone she doesn't know, so no more than any caution one has in meeting someone new--gone when she smiles in return. "I didn't really expect to run into anyone. Am I troubling you?"

Edited Date: 2015-06-24 09:57 pm (UTC)

From:

1stwitness

...her face is triggering something in his mind, a memory from - it must be from his old life, surely, but not if she was dressed like that...

"Not at all. It's no less your land than mine."

From:

an_outlander

"Well, some here would say it's neither of ours, being English, but I'm sure you've run into that if in just a few days I have. My name is Claire."

He seems pleasant enough, and his dress is beyond odd, certainly, but nothing she notices makes her feel particularly inclined to suspect him of being dangerous.

She's sure Frank seems odd to many of their friends, with his tendency towards obsession when it comes to his interest in his family tree, and she knows that her interest in natural remedies and cures, in learning about herbs, is seen as being so.

From:

1stwitness

That's an odd comment - but he has heard the bar surroundings are based on Scotland, maybe that's what she meant. And the name only increases the feeling of familiarity about her, that's going to irritate him until he gets it.

"Ichabod Crane." He pushes himself to his feet and bows to her. "Pleased to meet you."

From:

an_outlander

All right, then, most definitely odd. Again, she thinks on her own life--particularly her upbringing by her uncle, lighting his cigarettes for him and being allowed a few puffs herself before she was eight. Actually, in retrospect, riding a camel regularly before she was eight and being kissed by a Moslem that same year might be enough on its own.

"I'm sure I'm pleased in turn." Her smile, now, is more genuine, and with that her eyes light up.

They're very distinct eyes. Someday, a day that's soon for Claire, someone will comment on them and say he'd only seen eyes on them once before--on a lioness in a zoo in France.

Of all her features, that stands out the most, though hair so curly and, even after her patient styling that morning, somewhat unruly, comes a close second.

(Shh, Master Crane, someone once said to him, golden eyes intent as she bandaged an injury. I have debts to repay you, and someday you'll earn them. And his questions on that had never been given any more answer than, Not yet.)

If you can travel forwards in time by 200 years, Mr. Crane, can you travel just as far in time the other way?

Edited Date: 2015-06-24 10:38 pm (UTC)

From:

1stwitness

Her eyes. His gaze locks with hers, and there's the memory he was trying to summon - and yes, he recalls, that woman's name was Claire. But how can it be?

"...tell me", he says after a long moment. "Though it may well seem an odd question. Do you have any family ties to the town of Sleepy Hollow or thereabouts?"

From:

an_outlander

She blinks at that, a bit thrown, and then laughs a little, bemused, as she leans against a tree and thinks.

"I'm afraid I don't know. My parents died when I was a child, and the uncle who raised me...well, he was an antiquarian, a historian, an archaeologist, and quite interested in the past. But not particularly in our family's. I know half of my family was from France originally, but I'm rather afraid that's it."

(He'd had a fever from infection due to that wound. She'd treated it very efficiently and, for a reason he never understood, with sections of mold from a particular French cheese put into the wound--and for some reason, it had make him recover much more quickly than he'd ever have imagined. But it had still taken time, and she'd talked to him through it, especially when he was at his most frustrated for being not able to travel yet. It depends who you ask, she'd asked when he'd seriously asked if she was a witch, though she'd never said more.

But she had said other things. The uncle who raised me was very odd. He was fascinated with the past, you see, far more than the present. When I was a child, I traveled all over the world with him. And she'd told him stories about the visits, and it had distracted him enough that he gave his body the time it took to truly heal.

And when he'd thanked her again, she'd said only, Favors for favors and debts owed, Ichabod, if for nothing but friendship and shared understanding, and gently shut the door in his face, which was startled at her sudden use of his first name and her last comments.)

Coincidences do exist. They happen all the time.

But when they start to pile up, the question becomes if they are, actually, coincidences.

"Where's Sleepy Hollow, if I might ask?" And why are you asking this? her eyes say, but lips don't.

From:

1stwitness

"In New York state", he tells her - and then, to the unasked question, "You remind me very strongly of - someone I once knew. Which I believe was actually in Massachusetts, now I think of it."

He remembers the tales about her uncle, clear as day, from that time when he'd had nothing to do but listen. But this woman has shown no sign of recognition, and her clothes are still a sticking point.

From:

an_outlander

Her eyes light up slightly at that. "Massachusetts! My husband has been looking into a professorship there, now that he can again. I'm planning to apply to one of the medical schools--I'm a nurse, but I'd like to get my M.D."

She doesn't recognize him, that's obvious. But she's a healer, and now that's stated. And she shifts a little, to be more comfortable.

The action puts her face in sunlight and reveals what shade from the leaves had hidden.

Faint lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth are missing. A scar should be on her right cheek, and isn't. And her hair is brown with a mix of red and gold, rather than the same but with the faint strands of silver that seemed to put all her hair in a strange, if subtle, sort of luminance, and had been brought on by the one thing that could do so: time.

Everything else, except her clothing, is perfect. Too perfect to be a descendant who merely took after one ancestor strongly due to the strange way genes had mixed when she was conceived.

And that's his answer, too: again, time.

Bloody time. That, and her last words to him, during that particular meeting when she'd hid and healed him: understanding shared.

From:

1stwitness

Understanding that only now is coming to be fully shared. He looks at Claire, and though he doesn't nod, it all clicks in his mind - except the one missing piece of how she came to be in his time, in her future.

"I encourage you to do so, most strongly."

From:

an_outlander

Shared for him, not her; he's travelled forward.

She still has to make the trip backward.

(And make it what, for Claire, is very soon. Soon enough and through strange enough means that it may be why she's in this place, at this time, where this man was to be found. Soon enough that she'd run as far from Scotland as possible that very moment if she did know.

And for Claire, as far as she knows, Scotland's the only place she is. There are many ways to get to the Bar; some of them involve only the Bar grounds. And trees can hide many things from sight.)

He gets a far more curious look at that, one that turns her smile a little uncertain. "It's more my idea than his, a bit. And I doubt jobs for university professors will be available terribly soon, especially with so many men coming home from the war. But I suppose in a few years, if he finds a job, it's possible."

She's just now noticing the quiet. The road isn't that far away, but she hasn't heard an auto honk for what seems an unusually long amount of time. It had seemed peaceful, before; it seems a bit unnatural, now, after this long.

"Ah--if you'd be so kind as to move a bit? I believe one of the herbs I came to collect is behind you." She indicates a spot with her hand. "Though I'm mostly interested in the ones I hope I'll find by the standing stones over the ridge."

There are no standing stones--no ridges, for that matter--for Crane.

He may realize it, or he may not, but he's been given the last piece of the puzzle by Claire sharing her destination.

From:

1stwitness

He doesn't, but one day he will. And he'll be very interested in those standing stones.

"Of course", he says, stepping aside. "Herbs for cooking, or for medicine?"

From:

an_outlander

"Medicinal use," she laughs. "I can cook well enough, I suppose, but it's not such an interest of mine that I'd go hunting herbs for it. Natural remedies, though, are an interest of mine, and I like to collect what I can. I've no idea when we'll be back in Scotland," this said as she kneels and removes a small knife from her satchel to cleanly cut the plant in question, "so I thought that I'd take the time to get as many native to the region while my husband and I are here. You're welcome to join me, if you'd like. The stones are quite an attraction."

Scotland, not Milliways.

She does cast him an amused look after wrapping her gains in some paper and standing. "Don't you get rather a large amount of curious looks, dressed so?"

From:

1stwitness

"My fair share", he says easily. "But I like these clothes enough to ignore the looks."

It's perfectly true, if he was at home.

"And I'd love to join you to see the stones."

From:

an_outlander

"Well, I don't see anything else of use here, so," Claire replies, hefting her satchel a bit more securely over her shoulder, "a-hiking we will go and all that."

It takes a few minutes walk in the direction she indicates, but she finally, finally hears a horn honk again from the road. Can, as the trees clear, and they start to walk upwards, the stones on a hill just beyond the ridge, see the road a fair distance away.

Given how long she walked, she feels like she should have reached here sooner. But perhaps she simply talked to Crane longer than she realized.

From:

1stwitness

There are no standing stones in Milliways, nor any ridge or road that he knows, but only the faintest and fleeting alarm shows on his face when she's not looking. If the magic brought him here, he can trust the magic will take him back.

"There's always something very special about places like this."

From:

an_outlander

"There is, yes. I don't know if the stones actually have a name, though apparently some of the locals call them Merlin's stones. The hill's called Craigh na Dun, though. I freely admit to having no idea what that translates to, if anything, but I rather like the sound. It feels fitting, almost, don't you think? Very romantic and such."

It's when they've actually neared the stone closest to then that she develops a faint frown, cocking her head as she listens to a sound only she can hear.

"Do you hear a--well, a buzzing? Almost like bees?"

It wouldn't puzzle her at all, except there are no trees nearby. Nowhere, in fact, to build a hive, let alone conceal one. There's no swarm in sight, either.

But she distinctly hears buzzing, and the sound actually seems to be getting louder.

Edited Date: 2015-06-25 05:38 pm (UTC)

From:

1stwitness

Ichabod looks at her quickly.

"Bees? No, I don't hear anything..."

From:

an_outlander

Now she just looks surprised. "You don't? But it's getting louder..." Claire trails off as she checks again for a nest as they stand in the center of the circle, then shakes her head in puzzlement.

She tries to ignore the sound while commenting, a bit distracted by the sound still, "They're beautiful, in a way. Not particularly well decorated, of course, but it's..." She pauses before finishing, a bit of embarrassment coloring her words as she glances at Crane, "Well, it's almost as if you can feel how this place must have mattered to someone--likely many someones--a great deal, once. Does that make any sense?"

From:

1stwitness

"And they may have been better decorated once", he agrees, "in ways that are lost. Paint, flowers... and yes, one does get that sense."

From:

an_outlander

"Even carvings would have worn away over time," she murmurs, her face and voice both distracted.

She's not really doing anything more than studying the stones a bit more when she puts her hand on one, and then the buzzing--

Oh, it's louder, but there's so much more than that. There are sensations she has no words for, except maybe it's the moon moving backwards and the sun going west to east, and everything that means must be happening as well, over and over and all at once.

To look at her, suddenly still, it's nothing that happens instantaneously. There's somehow the impression that she's going somewhere without moving, and then something almost like her fading.

And then Claire Randall isn't there--to be precise, she isn't then--any more.