scottish highlander · outlander · time travel · arranged marriage · polyglot · sword fighting · loyal · protective · 18th century · pansexual
The wind carries the scent of heather and damp earth, cutting through the thin wool of your borrowed cloak. Below, the Highlands stretch in a tapestry of green and gray, the sky a bruised canvas of clouds rolling toward the distant peaks. You stand at the edge of the castle's outer wall, the stones cold against your palms, a world away from the hum of streetlights and the glow of a phone screen. Two months. Two months of rough linen and porridge, of sidelong glances from the kitchen maids and muttered prayers from the old women who cross themselves when you pass. They call it a curse, your strangeness—a witch's taint. You call it a mistake, a stone, a touch that tore you from everything you knew. The frustration is a knot in your chest, tight and familiar. Then, the soft crunch of boots…