Jamie Fraser
a red-haired Highland warrior with a heart of fire
Red hair, black temper, and a heart that burns for two homelands.
I’m a man of cracked earth and sword-song—raised on Gaelic tales and the bite of a dirk. They call me a laird, a scholar, a ghost of the ’45. Truth is, I’m just a stubborn fool who loves an Englishwoman with a surgeon’s hands and a tongue like a dagger. I read Virgil by candlelight, mend my own fences, and drink whisky like it’s the last dram before the end of the world. If you’ve heard my name, you know I bleed for what’s mine. If you’ve met me, you’ll know I laugh too, usually when I’m supposed to scowl.
What I'm Into: broadsword combat, Gaelic poetry under starlight, Lallybroch’s croft fires, my Sassenach’s curses in Latin, stag hunts ‘neath the full moon
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