open | your name is on a lot of quotes in this book

[nineteenfortyfive]

Who: Claire Fraser (nineteenfortyfive) & you
What: May things, lots of moping Claire... forgive me.
When: May
Where: Olympia
Warning(s): General Outlander warnings.



I. THE MARKET

[Her marriage is in an unpleasant place and she doesn't know how to fix it. Percy is in stasis. Ramsay is back. Theon was, for a brief moment, back in stasis as well, but only returned in a worse state than he was. It's been a lot to contend with on top of being so recently tortured (her her hands remain in gloves as her nails grow back, the last of the damage left), and one afternoon as Claire's in the market, standing before a fruit stand, it all catches up to her.

For someone who urges others to confide in someone, anyone, often herself, she doesn't follow her own advice.

She pushes other shoppers out of the way as she suddenly finds it hard to breathe, hard to keep her eyes from welling with tears, and if she slams into anyone there's no apology as she stumbles out and away.

She stops when she comes to a fountain, gasping and sobbing, a hand clutching at her neck as if there's something suffocating her, chest heaving rapidly. No, nothing physical, just an overwhelming sense of sadness. A sadness that turns into more of a frustrated panic as she tries to calm herself, leaning over the water.]

II. THE TRAIN/FLONA COVE

[Percy did have an affinity for water.

Claire knows she can't watch over Theon 24/7. He needs to stand on his own, and he can, and so Claire takes some hours for herself and heads to the beach. She's always enjoyed train rides. Perhaps she's even in the mood for conversation with whoever happens to sit by her.

At the beach, instead of collapsing on the sand and considering letting the waves wash her away, she takes a stroll, skirts tied up over her knees so she can walk in the small waves without getting drenched.

Now and then she stops to pick up a shell. By the end of it, she's got a hefty collection held in her skirt, and dumps her prizes where she's left her shoes.

Well. Now what to do with them?]

III. STASIS

[She spends more time here than she'd ever admit. She makes it sound like her visits are brief. They're not. On leave from the Sanctuary, she's had a lot of time to simply be.

Today, she stands before her daughter's pod. What she'd give to be able to touch her red hair, or at least feel her skin, make sure it's warm. All she can so is press her hands against the glass.]

Sometimes I think you're luckier, in there. Though you'd probably throw a fit at me saying that. I know you'd rather be here, too. I know.

[[ooc: pls choose your flavor of sad mom, or hit me with a wildcard! Oooooor send me a PM if you'd like me to whip up a starter, and I'd be happy to.]]

Comments

[nineteenfortyfive]

"Really? That's a pleasant surprise," she comments as she sits, glad, though clearly much more pleased at the gifts offered. She gasps--the woman does like her plants--and smiles widely. Maybe some of these will be of use.

"Oh, these are lovely. Thank you, Daenerys. You're very thoughtful." And she begins the task of setting them out on the coffee table, one by one.

But her question has her stopping in her tracks. Ramsay, of course. Claire straightens, dropping her hand from one of the plants sitting so prettily before them. No more smile on her lips.

"No. My husband will kill him on sight if he does," she says slowly. She never encourages Jamie to murder, but when it comes to Ramsay, exceptions are made. Considering her words for a moment, she takes a slow breath. "Theon's gone to stasis and returned from it. He's---not who he was before. Ramsay's mutilated him beyond recognition. I think he'd be more of an interest now instead of Sansa."

Just barely mending together means he's all the easier to break.

[dorzalta]

Little gifts, things easily managed. A dress for Sansa, plants for Claire. The sort of things a woman with nothing but time on her hands finds herself doing in the lull of the day. She smiles in response, inclining her head but saying little about it.

That smile slips away upon the subject of Ramsay. "Your husband--he's skilled in battle?"

She doesn't ask that out of disrespect, but she knows of Jon's experience in war with Ramsay. She's seen the aftereffects of the Theon in her world. And ah--Theon. Ramsay was quick to say he'd played no part in the Ironborn's return to stasis. Perhaps he spoke a truth. A truth in how many lies?

"Ramsay bent the knee to me," she says, just as slowly as Claire was to mention her points. It's not a hesitance of one who is fearful of being scolded, but of a person tired of these little wars amidst her people. "I wasn't in Westeros when the Boltons and Starks battled. I've heard of it, of course. And I've met the Theon of my time, who set sail for Meereen with his sister, Yara Greyjoy. He was quiet, but there was a strength to him, still."

If Ramsay broke her world's Theon, he recovered enough. Maybe not to be fully healed, yet he functioned. And she's been the victim of abuses, has seen the extent of cruelty (to the extreme that Ramsay's been said to take it?) to know that if he's broken, truly broken, he may not heal.

But she doesn't think he is.

"This Theon's mouthy enough. I think he just needs to be reminded of who he was and is."

[nineteenfortyfive]

"He is." And will perhaps be more so, one day. "Jamie's saved my life a number of times, and he's fond of Sansa. He'd never let anything happen to her."

They called him Red Jamie during the uprising. It wasn't only the color of his hair that earned the name, but the enemies slain. Ramsay might be a snake, but Jamie's not to be trifled with, especially on his wife's orders.

"If you know his sister as Yara instead of Asha, then... I did hear that Theon was..." Claire trails off, frustrated. "That he got better, somewhat. He was always so upset when it came to multiple versions of Westeros." So, Daenerys, Jon, Sansa come from one Westeros while Stannis and Theon come from another. She's beginning to think Ramsay came from the former. Perhaps. But she's decided long ago it doesn't matter. Ramsay is bound to be a monster in any Westeros. "He was always so troubled about so much."

She sighs, rubbing her temple. She's been tired since before Theon returned, and all the more so trying to figure out how to best help him. "He's terrified of forgetting who he is. Of not being Theon. The outside is shattered, but not beyond my fixing, and the inside is... bad. It'll take time. He's not lost."

She won't ever believe that.

"But Ramsay is a problem. Theon will always be in danger of slipping if Ramsay is awake."

[dorzalta]

"Good, she remains under my protection, for however much that means in this world." Too little, when things grow tumultuous because of antagonistic individuals. "But I'm too far south, and I've no dragon to ride, were she to ever need my aid immediately."

It's a 'thank you,' unspoken.

"He was. I don't know of all those details, only rumors. Things his own people gossiped about, things my Hand told me. When I met Theon Greyjoy, he was... quiet, but respectful, and with enough of a spine to speak up to bolster his sister's words."

She falls silent, listening to Claire, watching her.

"You adopt his troubles as your own in your worry for him." That has her sighing through her nose, her look not one of reprimand, but tinged with concern. She knows all too well the toll it takes on a person to watch one they care for struggle. Couple that with one's own torture... "You've a good heart. It's enough to reach him. He needs someone there to remind him of not only who he is, but what he is. Leave Ramsay to Sansa and I."

[nineteenfortyfive]

An unspoken thanks, but it's not needed. Claire's been fond of Sansa from the moment she met her, and over the near-year they've been here, her affections have only grown. If anything ever happened to her while she or Jamie were around, she'd never forgive herself.

Quiet and respectful isn't Theon. He's quiet and fearful now, polite out of the worry that speaking out might earn him more pain. Claire never thought she'd be urging him to talk back, to fight, but she hopes that one day he'll be a little less like a frightened rabbit. He's been strong enough to survive Ramsay. He'll be strong enough to regain himself.

"Leave Ramsay to you and Sansa?" She echoes, brow creasing. "Do you have something planned?"