Pictures from Outlander
The whole Scene

The rea­li­za­ti­on of Jamie’s immi­nent depar­tu­re was deeply depres­sing; I sud­den­ly rea­li­zed just how much I loo­ked for­ward to see­ing him at din­ner after the day’s work, how my heart would leap when I saw him unex­pec­ted­ly at odd moments during the day, and how much I depen­ded on his com­pa­ny and his solid, reas­su­ring pre­sence amid the com­ple­xi­ties of life in the cast­le. And, to be per­fect­ly honest, how much I lik­ed the smooth, warm strength of him in my bed each night, and waking to his tous­led, smi­ling kis­ses in the mornings. The pro­s­pect of his absence was bleak.
He held me clo­se­ly, my head snugg­led under his chin.
“I’ll miss you, Jamie,” I said soft­ly.
He hug­ged me tigh­ter, and gave a rue­ful chuck­le.
“So will I, Sas­se­nach. I had­na expec­ted it, to tell the truth — but it will hurt me to lea­ve ye.” He stro­ked my back gent­ly, fin­gers tra­cing the bumps of the ver­te­brae.
“Jamie…you’ll be care­ful?”
I could feel the deep rum­ble of amu­se­ment in his chest as he ans­we­red.

.…bla blah about the Duke and Gei­lis.….

Jamie and Claire Fraser

I put my mouth on Jamie’s nipp­le, fli­cking it light­ly with my tongue. He made a small sound deep in his throat and pul­led me nea­rer.
“Open your legs,” he whis­pe­red. “I mean to be sure you’ll remem­ber me while I’m gone.”
Some­time later, I woke fee­ling cold. Gro­ping slee­pi­ly for the quilt, I couldn’t find it. Sud­den­ly it came up over me of its own accord. Sur­pri­sed, I rai­sed up on one elbow to look.
“I’m sor­ry,” Jamie said. “I did­na mean to wake ye, lass.”
“What are you doing? Why are you awa­ke?” I squin­ted over my shoul­der at him. It was still dark, but my eyes were so accusto­med that I could see the faint­ly shee­pish expres­si­on on his face. He was wide awa­ke, sit­ting on a stool by the side of the bed, his plaid flung around him for warmth.
“It’s only…well, I drea­med you were lost, and I could­na find ye. It woke me, and…I wan­ted to look at ye, is all. To fix ye in my mind, to remem­ber while I’m gone. I tur­ned back the quilt; I’m sor­ry you were chil­led.”
“It’s all right.” The night was cold, and very quiet, as though we were the only two souls in the world. “Come into bed. You must be chil­led too.”
He slid in next to me and cur­led him­s­elf against my back. His hands stro­ked me from neck to shoul­der, waist to hip, tra­cing the lines of my back, the cur­ves of my body.

Mo duin­ne,” he said soft­ly. “But now I should say mo air­ge­ad­ach. My sil­ver one.
Your hair is sil­ver-gilt and your skin is white vel­vet. Cal­man geal. White dove.”

I pres­sed my hips back against him, invi­ting, and sett­led against him with a sigh as his solid hard­ness fil­led me. He held me against his chest and moved with me, slow­ly, deeply. I gas­ped a litt­le and he sla­cke­ned his hold.

Pictures of Outlander
I’m sor­ry,” he mur­mu­red. “I did­na mean to hurt ye. But I do want to be in you, to stay in you, so deep. I want to lea­ve the feel of me deep insi­de ye with my seed. I want to hold ye so and stay wi’ you ’til dawn, and lea­ve you slee­ping and go, with the shapes of you warm in my hands.”
I pres­sed firm­ly back against him.
“You won’t hurt me.”

All rights for the Pic­ture go to the right­ful owner Starz
Excerpt and Quote by Diana Gabal­don from “Out­lan­der“
I own not­hing but the editing
Heike Ginger Ba Written by:

|Human|Woman|Mother|Wife|Friend| Photographer| Blogger| |TV-Junkie|Photoshop-Beginner|Art-Lover|Cologne-based|Outlander-addict |Sherlockian |TWD-devoted


  1. Martina Prior
    May 22

    Beau­ti­ful . Love the way your selec­ted pas­sa­ges of the book toge­ther with the art­work lift my spi­rits .

    • Heike Ginger Ba
      May 24

      Thank you very much for your Com­ment and your visit at my litt­le blog Mar­ti­na..

      LG Hei­ke

    • Heike Ginger Ba
      June 29

      Hi Este­fa­nia,

      thank you for your comment..its just becau­se i love the books and the show so much..the art­works are my tri­bu­te 🙂 glad you like them.. LG Hei­ke Gin­ger

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