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scrabbleknight · 6 months

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With it being 24 hours since I've updated my fic, it's time to go through my thoughts over Chapter 10 of SatF.

First off, I'd like to thank everyone for reading and I hope you enjoyed it. I worked hard on it and it happened to be my longest chapter yet. Second, if you read the Author's Notes in AO3, you'll find that there were a large number of deleted/heavily modified scenes that I unfortunately didn't bother to use. So I won't go through that since my thoughts over it are already laid bare.

Now onto the analysis:

Choosing between two chapters

The Wartwood chapter was actually one of two choices I had when I started. Before beginning, I had to choose between two ideas that I wanted to write and even had to get an external opinion about it. In the end, I chose to write about Wartwood and its citizens since it's a chapter I wanted to write for so long and this seemed to be the perfect time for it. The other chapter idea was actually an Anne chapter!

Expanding the characters

The main purpose of this chapter were two things; to expand existing characters and to expand the worldbuilding. Every story brought in something new, such as one-off characters (Nelly), racism in Amphibia (Maddie) and family names (Tritonio). Also, the reveal of cultists which was always implied in the past, and their importance in the future. There's a really neat system regarding cultists in particular and it will be brought up, but basically it's just layers upon layers of secrecy.

Racism in Amphibia

Racism is a pretty hot topic and Amphibia, being based on traditional Tolkien/DnD fantasy, has some of it (but not too much because Disney show). So I wanted to put some focus in it too. Amphibia's racism is mild and hidden; it's not outwardly like those other fantasy stories. It's especially obvious during the Three Armies episode where newts and toads have a rivalry, and frogs are looked down upon. This seemed to have happened during Andrias's rule, so he most likely has a hand in it.

So I wrote the insidious and lurking nature of racism as well. In this case, we see that Maddie can't become a proper witch/curse practitioner because she's not allowed to enroll in a special school due to her species. Maddie, of course, shrugs it off because she can still do it, just illegally and only outside of Newtopia where the rule is enforced.

But Albus has a reaction to it. He feels guilty because he has a privilege that Maddie did not, and he didn't notice. It can make one wonder how many other advantages they have in their life that are seemingly invisible. Of course, Maddie comments on it, stating that it's not Albus's fault. After all, he simply lived in privilege; he was hardly the cause of it or propagated it. Just knowing and being aware of it is the very minimum, and acting with that knowledge is the ideal.

Fatherless

Ivy's fatherless behaviour actually started as a joke. I wrote the scene about Felicia getting mad about him and it expanded from there. But then, I added more content regarding it and brought it back full circle near the end. Tritonio being an orphan was always planned after the Three Armies episode but his relationship with the family was only added in this chapter. The chapter was also going to mention why he left and it was because he utterly humiliated his brother (the head of the Espadas and an actual blood-related member) in a duel which led to him leaving to avoid persecution. I'll definitely bring that up in the future. And Ivy being mad about her absentee father was only added in the last minute, which I say worked incredibly well to tie it all together.

The brief history of Amphibia: Blue Blood Massacre

Now this is something I really wanted to write, in excerpts and journals. The purpose of this entry was to give out names of important families, specifically the Lilypads and the Leopolds. The latter is related to Loggle and his family will have an important part during Sasha's time in Newtopia, hence him giving her his eyepiece which was also the Leopold emblem. The Lilypads aren't brought up yet but in this AU, Lady Olivia would be a member, hence her close proximity with Andrias. Family lines are incredibly important in Newtopia and it's important to establish that early on because it can be the cause of major conflicts.

When writing about the Blue Blood Massacre, I had to choose between either making it explicit or implicit. In the end, I chose the latter, as shown with Andrias being labelled a victim for it. Of course, we (readers) know better. Additionally, it was also the perfect time to include Andrias getting his cybernetics since it was never explained what medical procedures he used, so the average person could wave it off as magic.

I didn't write it but each of the Five Founding Families specialized in different things which allowed them to work together. The Lilypads were agriculturists, the Leopolds were craftsmen and the Leviathans were researchers. As for the Larns and the Livres, they were soldiers and merchants respectively which was why it had to be carefully planned to take them out. Each family also would've represented each species: Lilypads for frogs, Leviathans for salamanders, Larns for toads, Livres for newts and Leopolds for axolotls. With the toads and newts families being wiped and the Lilypads being replaced from frogs to newts, it established a newt supremacy that Andrias can easily control.

You might be thinking; why didn't he just weaken the Livres since they're newts already? That's exactly why he did it. So long as people remembered their heritage, it's difficult to truly control them since they have something to look back to. But replaced the frogs with newts in Lilypads, it meant that the newts didn't have anything to look back to. It wasn't theirs; they simply took the original's place.

I probably won't write this in the fanfic since it's too obtuse and technically counts as in-universe libel, but the heritage of the Lilypads will be brought up.

The bow and what is it used for

I can't say much about it but the bow is designed in such a way that all three girls can use, essentially making it a shared weapon. Even the materials are important; blue sea anemone (Anne) and green wood (Marcy). Red is the only thing that's not in it because I have a red material for something else. Another important part about a bow is that it's a stationary weapon; you don't need to move to use it. This is important for S3, where it'll be useful for a particular character.

The ending will be super cool, trust me.

And that's about it for this chapter. Any more would be spoiling future content which would be a bummer. I am glad you guys read the story and I hope you liked it. I'll be expanding more stuff in the future and until then, I'll see you all soon :D

#sasha and the frogs #satf #amphibia #amphibia fanfic #fanfiction

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fazar234 · 1 year

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Crisis - A Sasha and the Frogs Fanfic - Amphibia

Summary: Just Mrs. Boonchuy having a crisis after hearing about her daughter’s horrible deeds, nothing to see here. :)

I LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE!

No but seriously, I'm alive guys. I know it's been way too long since my last fic (or post, for that matter), but it's mainly because I've been busy with school, as well as dealing with a lack of motivation, which is kind of a butt-kicker.

Regardless, reading the newest chapter of @scrabbleknight's fanfic Sasha and the Frogs gave me an idea. So here I am, posting a brand new work based on the SATF AU!

Keep in mind this takes place during Season 3, which Scrabble hasn't gotten to yet, and that this is just my take on what should happen in it. Regardless, I hope you all enjoy!

(I highly recommend reading through Sasha and the Frogs first to understand the context of this fic. Here's the link: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2987463)

Taglist/Inspirations: @writingamongther0ses, @eclipsewarrior101, @d-blue02, @dawnsy, @hughjidiot, @eeveearoace, @eeveearoace-creative, @sonofrose, @space-lynn, @astro-arts-inthestars, @astro-inthestars, @cynthiacoven, @casswithmywholeheart, @starsfic, @luna--dragon, @mira-blue, @honneibun, @dodelidoo, @issabolical, @lightgriffinsect, @writegriffinsect

Oum Boonchuy has always believed herself to be a good parent.

Well, not always good, but better than the Waybrights or Wus, if that counts.

From the moment Anne was born, Oum and her husband Bee would dedicate their entire lives to treating her right, caring for and loving her, and keeping her on the straight and narrow.

Sure she’s had some bumps down the road.

Sure, she’s had her fair share of arguments with her girl over being responsible.

Sure, she’s never been into Anne hanging out with her friends for too long because of the type of influence they were.

Sure, she’s had to ground her daughter several times just because she wasn’t home on time and was off messing around with her friends.

But all off that was because she was worried for her. Worried for her future, worried for what kind of person she’d be.

She loved her daughter and considered herself a good parent.

At least, until she went missing.

For five whole months, she put up missing posters, kept in touch with the police, and prayed for her daughter’s safety.

But one thought never stopped lingering in the back of her mind.

Was she really a good parent?

She had to spend five whole months struggling with herself, wondering if it’d been her fault, wondering if she’d done something wrong to warrant her daughter choosing her friends over her.

And then, five months later, Sasha comes back.

And she doesn’t know what to feel, especially with her living in her house, with three talking frogs from a world called Amphibia, one of which seems rather hostile to her.

As she spends time with her, she begins to realize that her daughter’s friend has changed. That what was once a manipulative jerk who’d do anything to have control, was now someone trying to keep her frog family, her only family, safe.

And then, she learns of her daughter’s deeds.

And it all comes crashing down.

Her daughter, a lieutenant for an army of toads.

Her daughter, responsible for killing her own friend, who was lucky enough to return to the land of the living.

Her daughter, responsible for betraying her friends a second time, just to overthrow a king who had turned out to be evil.

Oum couldn’t understand.

How was it that Sasha, a girl who lacked love and adoration, was somehow able to become better, while her daughter, who was raised and cared for her whole life, became worse?

As she processed all of this, the answer finally hit her.

She was not a good parent.

No parent would have let their child disappear into another world for five months.

No parent would have let their daughter go astray and become a hardened soldier.

And, most importantly, no parent would have let their daughter commit so many crimes, let alone murder.

Oum Boonchuy was not a good parent.

She was a failure.

A worthless, cowardly failure.

And she didn’t deserve to be a parent.

——————————————————————————

I know it's fairly short, and nit exactly the best fic to return with, but it's all I had.

Regardless, please leave your thoughts in a comment or reblog (constructive criticism is welcome) and I'll see you all soon!

#amphibia #amphibia au #amphibia fanfiction #amphibia fanfic #sasha and the frogs #anne boonchuy #sasha waybright #oum boonchuy #Fazar Fanfics

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kkruml · 6 years

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kkruml Masterlist

Just in case you’re looking for something to pass the time during this droughtlander...

I Don’t Even Know Your Name

(credit to @sassenachwaffles for this gorgeous whisky label)

AO3

SIRUN ‘AJNABIUN// THE FOREIGNER’S SECRET

(credit to @cantrixgrisea for this gorgeous artwork)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

AO3

STAY

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

AO3

GAOL//LOVE

Oneshot/Chapter 1

#outlander #fan fic #outlander fan fic #idekyn fic #stay fic #gaol fic #SATFS fic #droughtlander #kkruml

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hughjidiot · 3 years

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Amphibia Fanfiction Spotlight

The premiere of Amphibia season 3 is coming up fast, folks. To help out those who might still be looking for their frog fix in the final few weeks leading to S3, I thought I'd highlight some of my favorite fanfictions the community has produced over the last few years.

Now there are a lot of great stories in the Amphibia fandom by a lot of very talented writers. I'm just going to list a few of my absolute favorites here because if I listed every story I like, this post would be novel-length. So if you have any favorites of your own you'd like to share that I didn't already list, reblog and let us know!

Sasha and the Frogs by Scrabbleauthor. "What would happen if the girls swapped places" has become a common AU in the fandom, and SatF was the first to explore that premise. It's a retelling of season one with Sasha taking Anne's place, up to Family Fishing Trip as of this writing. Sasha is a very different character than Anne: sometimes she makes the same decisions but for different reasons, while other times she'll make a choice that completely changes the episode. Either way the author has a great grasp of Sasha's character, especially with her learning how to be humble and truly care for others. Then there's the drama happening with Anne at Toad Tower under Grime's tutelage... You can find the story here.

A Theory of Butterflies and Other Insects by CalamityUnlocked. This one is similar to SatF, but goes farther by placing Anne in Newtopia and Marcy in Toad Tower. What makes Theory unique is that rather than just be a retelling of season one, it follows all three girls in their new roles at the same time. It's great fun seeing how the different environments are shaping how the girls think and act. You can find the story here.

Confessions and Cell Dates by TheCrusaderKing. This pair of stories is a season 2 AU where the Toad Invasion takes place a lot sooner than in canon, when Anne and the Plantars first travel to Newtopia... and fails miserably. Confessions sees Anne and Marcy reuniting with the captured Sasha and confessing their feelings to both her and each other, while Cell Dates follows the girls as they navigate the stormy waters of both their newfound relationship and the political fallout from the rebellion. The author does a great job with portraying the complexities of the Calamity trio's characters and relationships, and there's a good mix of fluff, drama, angst and romance. You can find both stories here.

not delivered (sic) by camomile_t. Here we have a post-True-Colors Marcanne fic: Anne is adjusting to being home while working on trying to rescue her friends and also come to terms with her feelings for Marcy. What makes not delivered unique is that the whole story is told through text messages between the various characters, and what little prose to be found is told in the style of phone/video calls, photographs, voice recordings, ect. The result is a fantastic piece of minimalism, where so much plot and emotion is expressed with so little words. You can find the story here.

Sasharcy sfw/nsfw one shots by Melah94. Pretty much what it says in the title lol. This oneshot anthology has everything from romance to humor to angst, and the author has a great grasp on Sasha and Marcy’s characterizations. Just keep in mind as the title says that some of the stories ARE nsfw and such chapters are tagged appropriately. You can find the story here.

#amphibia #amphibia fanfic #amphibia fanfiction #anne boonchuy #sasha waybright #marcy wu #sasha and the frogs #cell dates #not delivered #marcanne #sashannarcy

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kkruml · 6 years

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SIRUN ‘AJNABIUN// THE FOREIGNER’S SECRET Chapter 5

Thank you to everyone who has followed this story!

It started out as a fun/silly response to a prompt from the @thelallybrochlibrary April Prompt Exchange.

@smoakingwaffles and @missclairebelle I love ye both. Ye saw me through another story and haven’t ghosted me yet.

@cantrixgrisea This artwork continues to stun me.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

AO3

Previously

Shock.

She took two shallow breaths and then she felt large warm arms around her.

Jamie took her into his embrace and held her close. “A Dhia, yer as cold as ice.”

“Frank is gone.” Her voice felt detached from her body, and she breathed in the warmth and safety of Jamie’s form. “Dougal…”

“It’s alright lass.” His voice was calm and he took to whispering Gaelic in her ear to comfort her. “Yer alright.”

“Jamie-“Her voice was empty and cracked as she whispered his name. “…What do we do now?”

“The tablet- it’s likely in… the auto.” He paused before continuing, “There’s only one thing we can do or this is all for naught…we need to find the treasure.”

The journey back to the dig site had been quiet. Jamie gripped the steering wheel with one hand, the other encompassed Claire’s hand completely as his thumb softly drew circles against her skin. Her eyes were unfocused as her mind replayed the dreadful scene just minutes before.

His eyes shifted to her face for a brief moment, seeing her lower lip firmly tucked between her teeth. “Are ye alright?”

“I just can’t be-” she paused, shaking her head. She cleared her throat, her eyebrows pulled together and chin dimpled as she struggled to compose herself. “I can’t believe they’re both… gone.”

“I’m sae sorry, lass.” His fingers tightened around her hand gently. His voice was calm, as if he was trying to sooth a timid creature from startling, “Dougal wasna such a good man… but he was a kinsman.”

Her eyes shifted to his face, seeing his mouth drawn in a hard line, lips pressed together. Dougal was family to him, the thought cut through her and she whispered, “I’m sorry Jamie.”

She hoped her words had resonated, and the squeeze of her hand was enough to quiet them both as they made their way back to the site. Her eyes drifted down to their fingers, still intertwined, and she felt a small wave of relief wash over her. Neither of them was alone in this. They had each other. She closed her eyes for a moment and let the hot air wash over her as she felt small circles continue against her skin.

She caught the familiar silhouette of Uncle Lamb’s Panama hat as the auto pulled up next to the tent.

“Did you get the tablet?” He looked around anxiously. Seeing the empty seat, he asked, “Where’s Dougal… and Frank?”

“There was… an accident.” Her voice was detached, but steady. “They’re gone.”

“Claire, why don’t you take the tablet and find Ned. He will likely want to analyze it wi’ ye.” He gave a gentle nod to the tent behind her and she turned without a word, holding the ancient slab to her chest.

Jamie turned back to Lamb, running one hand through his hair; his voice was low and filled with regret.

“This text here- Shedet- refers to Faiyum… we’re but a few kilometers from the Oasis.” Ned’s voice was a pitch too high, he was restraining his excitement as he looked out of the tent opening. “If we travel this evening we could reach it before the heat of the sun holds us hostage in the morning.”

“Shedet. Yes that’s what Jamie and I thought last night,” her voice shook but strengthened with each word. “I think we should pack camp, water the horses, and make way as soon as possible.”

Ned looked at her, a smile pulling across his lips. “I think we may be onto something.”

“I think…” she started, taking a deep sigh before continuing, “I think this may be Hawara.”

“The supposed underground labyrinth? That expedition was well over fifty years ago.” Ned’s eyes scanned the documents, one hand scratching the stubble on his chin. “… Not a one of them has been seen since.” His voice was steady but she heard the undercurrent of doubt.

“All the more reason I think this has to be the answer.” She felt her heartbeat quicken, her mind flashing to a newspaper clipping she’d seen back in London from years earlier. “One worker who claimed to be there- he spoke of a foreign statue, hidden doors, and chiseled passageways.”

He eyed her speculatively, shuffling the papers as he muttered to himself. “Aye, though they said he’d gone mad with dehydration- hallucinated… though I suppose…”

She squared her shoulders, as a firm edge of conviction filled her voice, “We need to move camp, now.”

His eyes met hers, nodding as he answered, “As ye say, Mistress Beauchamp.”

She smiled at the title; she had always been plain Claire Beauchamp to the Scots. This was a sign- he trusted her. Now she needed to prove she was worth of it.

The road to Hawara was filled with anticipation.

Uncle Lamb and Ned had taken the auto in an effort to scout the site before the rest of the camp arrived. The number of ridable horses had dwindled with the heat.

Without a word, Jamie saddled his horse and reached for Claire. His hands were firm on her leg as she stepped into the saddle. In a move perfected by time, one foot slid into the stirrup as one hand grabbed the horse’s mane, and he shifted onto the horse’s back. He settled himself firmly against her. His hand deftly took the reins; strong arms pressed against her. His chest was solid against her back and his warmth encompassed her in the desert darkness. An aroma of worn leather, linen and sandalwood circled them.

Her hand found Jamie’s- a silent, unspoken understanding. His eyes did not waiver from the road, but his fingers laced within hers in a natural movement. Her heart leapt at the touch, the feeling of his skin against hers both invigorated and relaxed her.

As they reached the site, she felt a grunt hum in his throat, his eyes lowering to their hands as he reluctantly pulled his hand away from her. She nodded slightly; a small smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes answered him.

Time to find the treasure.

Hidden in plain sight.

To an unassuming onlooker, it was just a sand dune, a temporary pile of sand that would be scattered with a gust of wind. But she knew better. The mound was expertly hidden amongst the landscape of rolling dunes and desert sand.

“Right.” She straightened the linen of her shirt as she nodded to the waiting men in front of her. This was her dig. It was time to get to work. “According to the text, we should start on the west side, facing towards the sun as we dig.”

The workers set up the equipment and as the sun rose over the horizon she took a deep breath, her hands clutching the tablet close to her chest.

A face foreign to Pharaoh’s eyes.

Isis.

Hamara.

Ra.

This had to be the place.

With the equipment in place and workers sectioning out the area to dig, Claire hovered within a hair’s breadth of the mound.

“What are ye waitin’ for, Sassenach?” His voice was low, just loud enough for her to hear.

She turned to look at him, a look of peril hinted with excitement crossed over her face.

“So much research, so many dead ends. The endless debate about ancient clues and deceptions. But this…“ She pressed her hand against the mound. “This is real. This is it.”

“Aye. We wouldna found it wi’out ye,” a smile spread across his face as he continued. “This is your treasure, Claire.”

A light rosy blush spread across her cheeks as she smiled. “Our treasure.”

Early sunrise was creeping across the sky, a pale purple mixed with a warm orange, lighting the sand in a pool of glowing light that caught Claire’s eye. A small sliver of hard surface broke the stream of color, and she felt her heart race.

“Uncle!” She could barely breathe, her eyes locked on the hard object visible in the sea of sand. “I’ve found something!”

A flurry of excitement ensued. Workers focused on the narrow set of carved stone that came to resemble a steep staircase. A handful of steps formed and they found themselves staring at a large boulder.

“I’ve seen this before. ‘Tis a bit difficult, but there’s a trick to gettin’ it to move,” Jamie’s words came fast, not waiting for Claire’s recognition before he knelt, his arm snaking into a small crevice between the staircase and the stone. After a few grunts, he exclaimed, “Got it!”

The boulder shifted just enough for Claire to make her way through the gap.

“Wait!” Jamie’s voice was filled with panic. He attempted to steady himself, adding, “I’ve go’ a torch, ye’ll be needin’ a bit o’ light down there.”

After securing the boulder and ensuring steady air flow to the chamber, Jamie moved quickly forward, searching for her.

She stood in the silence, imagining the last souls to breathe in this chamber. Ancient Egyptians.

Who were they? What secrets did they hold? Why did they find need to hide this place?

She saw the light come towards her, his red hair glowing against the flame of the torch. The chamber was quiet, save the sound of his feet as they found her. They would find the secret together.

His hand found hers as their eyes met. She turned towards the darkness but she felt his hand squeeze hers and his arm stiffened, pulling her back to him. Their lips met in a soft, content kiss. As she opened her eyes she saw he was already looking at her, his blue eyes glowing in the firelight.

He nodded silently, his head gesturing towards the narrow hallway. Hand in hand, they navigated two corners and found themselves at a crossroads. The labyrinth of passageways unfolded in front of them, flickers of light reflecting off the walls.

“Which way, Sassenach?” His voice was slightly unsteady, and she caught the subtle attempt to clear it.

She turned to her right, pointing a long, slim finger towards the darkness. “East is this way, that’s towards Ra.”

Jamie blinked hard, his eyes focused on the ground. “Aye, we turned right then left again. If we go down this path, we should stay towards the sunrise.”

Each step was met with anticipation; their breaths were shallow as they took note of each turn and deviation from their desired direction.

After taking a sharp right turn, Jamie paused, “Sassenach, are we goin’ uphill?”

“It’s hard to say, but yes… I think so.”

A loud snap cut through the air and they both froze, hands squeezing each other tightly. A slow hum intensified as the torchlight reflected off of a boulder rolling down the incline towards them.

“Jamie!” Claire’s voice echoed through the passageway as she grabbed his arm, pulling him into a small alcove against the wall. The stone narrowly passed them and Claire felt the cold, rough surface against her shoulder as it passed.

“Ye… ye saved me, Claire.” His voice was suspended in disbelief. In the darkness of the passageway, he had trusted her completely. Her embrace had saved him.

“Well I… I..” she paused, throwing a hand to the darkness as she stumbled, her voice a mix of exasperation and humor, “I don’t think I can bloody well do this alone, now can I?”

He laughed, the torchlight catching the hint of a smirk as he nodded. “Aye. Now lead the way.”

The next two turns lead them to an impasse- a wooden door.

“Best as I can tell, it’s a diversion. Wood would not be a truly sufficient barrier for a treasure room…” she trailed off, thinking.

“Aye- but it would be tempting enough for a treasure seeker.” His voice had a hint of humor in it as he tried for a wink.

The light from the torch caught a small inscription in the wood. She grabbed his hand, pulling both his arm and the torch towards the door.

“Isis. It’s faded and the wood is degraded… but I’d recognize it anywhere.”

He cocked his head as he asked, “Ye sure?”

Her eyes shot to his, matching his gaze. “Bet my life on it.”

He nodded, his eyes darting back to the marking. “Okay then, where to?”

Her eyes scanned the doorway, pausing as she looked to the wall. A cross with what looked like a loop at the top stared back at her.

“Ankh.”

The symbol of life and immortality.

Orisis. Isis. They flooded the Nile every year- giving it life.

She had thought of Orisis and Set’s trickery that killed him- burying him in that very river.

She had again overlooked Isis- a face foreign to Pharaoh’s eyes.

She had been distracted that night with Jamie. But perhaps this was all for a reason. Without Jamie, she would never have discovered Isis as the foreigner. Without working together, he would not have found the tablet.

Was she meant to unite with Jamie to find this place… would they, too, make life together?

She pressed her fingers into the hieroglyphic, cold and firm against her skin, and a false wall opened. Behind the door was a hidden chamber, and they came face to face with a circle of statues.

The glow of the torch lit a faint path on the ground, and as Jamie raised it, they both saw a symbol scrawled across the floor- encompassing the statues.

“Zaman.”

Time.

His voice is low, almost a whisper as he steps closer into the ring. “The statue in the center…”

She nodded, matching the awe in his voice as she answered his question, “That symbol is a mix of Mustaqbal and almadi… future and past.”

Past.

Future.

Immortality.

“Jamie, this isn’t ancient treasure.” She felt her heartbeat quicken and her breathing shallowed. “I think I know what happened to those archaeologists. I don’t think they died here… I think they left here.”

Jamie nodded- a flicker of realization on his face. “The symbol Ankh means immortal life- but doesna note when that life is.”

Her eyes scanned the circle of statues, her gaze resting on the figure at the center. “Is this… a portal of some kind?”

She felt his fingers graze her, softly but firmly grasping them.

Her senses dulled as a nauseating feeling crept under her skin. “Do you hear that buzzing sound?”

His voice cut through the sound and echoed in her ears, “Aye.”

#the foreigner's secret fic #SATFS fic #outlander #fan fic #mummy crossover #last one #another one bites the dust #ope #see what i did there #they are in the desert #i'll let myself out

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kkruml · 6 years

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SIRUN ‘AJNABIUN// THE FOREIGNER’S SECRET Chapter 3

All the margaritas and high fives to @smoakingwaffles and @missclairebelle for helping me keep my head on straight.

THANK YOU TO @cantrixgrisea FOR THIS STUNNING BANNER!

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

AO3

Previously

“Yes,” she could feel the heat on her cheeks, and prayed it was from the sun beating down from above. “Well, it made me think-”

“Aye?” Another step closer, his head dipped low, watching her.

“Maybe the foreigner was a woman.”

He stopped in his tracks, “A Dhia, Isis. Yer a genius, Claire!”

Before she could respond his lips were on hers, his hand encompassed by her unruly curls.

“Am I interrupting?” His voice cut through the pulse between them and she pulled back, seeing thin shoulders and dark hair, immaculately parted standing behind Jamie. “I thought you might need your medical bag, to tend to the patients.”

Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ.

Think this through, Beauchamp.

Thoth is to the left.

Her statue, once mistaken as the key to the secret, is to the right.

A face foreign to Pharaoh’s eyes.

There’s something missing.

You can do this.

She closed her eyes, trying to see the text. She had memorized it and repeated it to herself countless times, having been questioned by countless men- doubted. The hieroglyphics were all but written on her own skin for how well she could recite from memory. The words were just coming into focus-

“Claire.” His voice was thin, curt. He had been distant since he saw her kiss with Jamie. He now spoke to her only when strictly necessary, and always only regarding the expedition.

She opened her eyes, seeing Frank’s face as the hieroglyphics faded from view. He was holding a stack of papers in his hands.

“I’ll be right there.” She sighed as she dusted her hands against her britches.

Entering the tent, she caught a look from Uncle Lamb- his brows were creased, his arms crossed in from of him as he watched her. Whatever Frank had to show her, he wasn’t in agreement.

“Look at this translation, the extended text regarding Osiris looks wrong.” His voice sounded flat, professional, but slightly annoyed.

“Wait- is this the theory of Anubis… from the Book of the Dead? We’ve looked at this before, haven’t we?” She reached for the paper, eyes expectant.

If this was the question of the hieroglyphics and the missing ceremony before burial, she knew they had already deliberated ad nauseam over the discrepancies. Frank was wrong, and she had a feeling he knew it. That wasn’t the point of his challenge- he wanted to make the dig difficult for her, no longer giving the benefit of doubt she had fought hard for and earned many times over.

“Yes, but a second look shows that it could rule out the correct statue as Isis.” His voice hissed out the last word.

Uncle Lamb shook his head, rolling his eyes as he interjected, “With all due respect Frank, We’ve been over this. Many times.”

She lifted her gaze from the papers to her Uncle, shaking her head and holding up her hand to stop him. “It’s ok Uncle. Frank here wants an explanation.”

Her tone was clipped but she maintained her composure as she tossed the papers onto the table, setting her weight to one side and placing her hands on her hips.

“The reason this translation is wrong, is because the Book specifically states that the burial was at Hamunaptra- we are 50 kilometers from there. The text was also dated as at least 300 years later than what Jam-… what’s been found here, on this dig.” She paused, letting her words settle before she squared her shoulders and finished, “I am the head of this dig and we will stay here until I am satisfied that we have exhausted all our options.”

Frank’s eyes narrowed, saying just loud enough for her to hear, “Doubt you’ll ever be satisfied.”

Her head cocked and a humorless smile spread across her face, a barely contained scoff escaped her lips as she shook her head.

“Sassenach!” Jamie’s voice broke the tension between them as he entered the tent. “Sas-Claire,” he stopped short, seeing Frank and Uncle Lamb staring back.

She turned instinctively towards him, her eyes scanning his form for signs of injury. “Jamie, what is it?”

“I found somethin’. At the base of the statue. Come quick!” Just as a whirling dervish, he spun around and was out of sight in the blink of an eye.

Claire took a long stride to follow, but she turned to take one final look at Frank before walking out.

Well- that settles that, then.

“What do ye reckon it is, Sassenach?” His eyes watched her hands as they carefully extracted the polished stone from the statue.

“I’m not quite sure, yet. “ Her tone was carefully controlled, but she felt her heart beating in her ears and adrenaline was pulsing through her veins. “There’s something here about Seth, I think.”

“Seth- as in the God who fought Ra?” He leaned in closer, his eyes flickering from her face to the text and back again.

“Yes… although this text looks to contradict that… or at the very least mention an alliance of sorts. Seth was known for darkness; and Ra for the sun… or light.” Her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to connect the information. “How did you find this, again?”

“I kept thinkin’ about what ye said… the other day,” a faint blush formed on his cheeks as he cleared his throat. “That the key was it bein’ a woman. I was circlin’ this statue, cursin’ at it for being wrong, searchin’ for anything out of place… and then the sun flashed across this spot and I caught the change in surface. The rest of the statue is rough- this was smooth,” one hand reached for the tablet while he watched her study the text.

She smiled and her hand passed over the ancient symbols chiseled into the stone.

His hand shifted and touched hers; her breath caught slightly as she inhaled sharply. His skin was warm and firm and she caught the faint smell of aftershave as the wind fluttered around them. She finally let out the breath she was holding as she blinked hard, dropping her hand as she passed the tablet back to him. She pulled her eyes to the horizon in an attempt to clear her thoughts.

His eyes followed hers and they settled on an insignificant point in the distance; two fingers drummed against the tablet as he took a deep breath.

“I uh… I have something- for ye.” His body twisted as one large hand reached behind him.

“Oh?” Her voice sounded almost foreign to her ears, and her face twisted to match the question as she turned to face him.

“Aye. I borrowed it off of one of the workers…” he pulled out a small, wrapped parcel from his sack and handed it to her. “Thought ye might like it- might need it.”

She stared at the package, wrapped neatly in cloth that looked suspiciously like a freshly washed linen shirt.

“T-Thank you.” She took the bundle with both hands, her fingers deftly untying the twine that kept it together and as she unwound the material, she gasped. “A medical kit- Jamie!”

His smile widened as he heard the joy in her voice as she said his name. He watched as she quickly lowered herself to the ground, unrolling the bundle to inspect and examine each tool. He knelt beside her, eying each instrument as her delicate fingers turned each object for inspection.

“Ye have an eye for healin’, thought ye could use it, is all,” his voice was low and soft, not risking a blink as he settled in beside her.

An eye for healing.

She blushed at the compliment and then she froze. Her fingers pressed into the tablet in her hands as the ancient text flashed before her eyes.

Eyes.

Horus. Son of Isis. Two eyes.

The left eye- Thoth. God of the moon.

The right eye- Ra. God of the sun.

God of sun. Light.

“Jamie!” Her voice was brimming with excitement.

“What is it Sassenach?”

“I’ve got it- the missing piece- it’s the eyes!” She looked directly into his face, seeing confusion, deep thought and then a spark of recognition.

“A Dhia! It must be- we had it all wrong. We were searching to the west of Thoth, away from the sun. We need to dig to the east- towards Ra- the sun!” He shook his head in wonderment as he matched Claire’s smile.

“We were so close! It’s a bloody good thing we both got the text wrong, as it led us here!” Her voice was incredulous as her hand instinctively reached for his knee, feeling the muscle of his thigh contract. His eyes darted to her touch, and he took a shallow breath before closing his hand around hers, squeezing it gently.

“Sorcha,” he said it as a whisper but she caught his gaze.

“What does that mean?” Her eyebrows creased as her eyes focusing on their hands intertwined, clearing her throat before carefully shifting to stand.

He took a deep breath, hands pushing against his knees as he stood to match her. “It means light.”

“Sorcha?” She turned the word over in her mind, hearing the Gaelic word sound foreign and familiar all in one moment.

He finished her thought with a smile, “that’s what we’ve been waiting for.”

A smiled spread across his face as he turned back towards the horizon for one last look at the evening glow against the sand.

What we’ve been waiting for.

What he’s been waiting for.

Sorcha.

Yes she is.

#the foreigners secret fic #satfs fic #outlander #fan fic #outlander fan fic #mummy crossover

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kkruml · 6 years

Text

SIRUN ‘AJNABIUN// THE FOREIGNER’S SECRET

Chapter 2

Thanks everyone for the love and encouragement with chapter 1!

@smoakingwaffles @missclairebelle ye lasses are lovely and keep my head on straight.

Chapter 1

AO3

Previously

Bembridge scholars had confirmed it referred to Thoth- born from the heart of Ra and the left eye of Horus. He was the God of many things- most notably the moon, but also secrets. There was just enough discrepancy in the translation where… it just might be possible.

Her upper lip curled as she exhaled in relief.

All hope was not lost.

She stood, taking two steps into the darkness as his voice crept into her thoughts.

“Where are ye off to?” His voice held trances of concern as his brows creased.

She paused, glancing over her shoulder as she grinned, “To find buried treasure.”

His eyes lingered long after her silhouette disappeared into the darkness.

Buried treasure. Aye. She was.

“That’s an interesting theory, Claire,” her uncle mused. As always, Uncle Lamb was open to listening, re-evaluating the evidence.

She stood straighter, a smile forming as she nodded her head. She had presented her case, added valid adjustments and had meticulously lobbied her points. Here, she was one of the crew, another worthy contributor of theory and revelations.

“Yes darling, quite.” Frank’s words passed muster and Uncle Lamb shifted back to his reading. She, however, knew better. Under his British formality, there was a hint of intimacy in his voice as he said darling. He was a fine companion, to be sure, but she wasn’t ready to hear that or consider the inevitability-as he had put it- that they would end up together.

Everything about him was impeccable- dark hair combed and precisely parted down one side, a three-piece suit despite the desert sun, University- educated, and an expansive vocabulary to match. Any woman would consider him a catch.

She cocked her head to the side, sizing up his shoulders- comparing what she saw with the expanse of the brown leather jacket, broad shoulders and mass of red curls from the night before. Muffled voices outside the tent shook her from her thoughts.

The door flap swung open and a dust-clad worker entered the tent- a makeshift headquarters of sorts during their dig.

“Beg pardon, Miss Beauchamp but there’s- uh… someone here from the Scottish clan. Said he’d like a moment with the camp’s leader- said it’s of ‘utmost importance’.”

Her mind flashed to the night before, the firelight dancing across his cheekbones and warmth of his lips lingering on the whisky bottle. She cleared her throat and nodded. “Thank you, George. I’ll be right out.”

She lifted the flap to see a tall figure, an impressive stance-slightly familiar, bald with an impressive beard, laced with gray. His britches held the faint pattern of tartan, faded by the sun and peppered with the near-constant dust that surrounded the camp.

“Oh, I was expecting someone else.” She was surprised to find herself disappointed.

Dougal laughed as he countered, “Aye- so was I. I’m looking for Lambert Beauchamp, as I’ve a proposition to make.”

“Oh?” A smile played at her lips but she cleared her throat in an effort to straighten her face. This was always her favorite part. “And just why would you want to speak to Lambert? I’m the head archaeologist on this dig.”

“Oh, beg yer pardon, lass. I dinna ken.” He cocked his head, taking in the unusual sight of a woman in breeks. He was not prepared to barter with a woman, and not one quite so young. He looked around but no one contradicted her or raised their voice in objection. A smile of his own ghosted his lip.

If a woman is in charge, perhaps I’ll get more out of this than expected.

“I’m Dougal MacKenzie- head of the camp across the way, and this is our chief archaeologist, Ned Gowan.” His hand gestured to a stately gentleman on his left, lines carved deep into pale skin, slightly blistered by the intense heat. He nodded to Claire, kind eyes meeting inquisitive amber.

“As ye may know, we had success in the excavation at the base of Thoth.” He paused, reveling in the memory of their good fortune for a moment before he continued, “But the workers have come down with a mysterious illness.”

An ancient booby trap of some kind, no doubt.

“Yes, well I’m sorry to hear that but I don’t see what that has to do with us.” One eyebrow arched as her arms crossed in front of her.

The smile reappeared as his eyes glimmered- like a tom cat sizing up his prey. “I had a look at yer equipment- looks more antiquated than the ruins themselves.”

Bloody Scot.

Her eyes glanced over his shoulder to see their excavation rigs, well-used and often-repaired; they had indeed served their purpose as far back as she could remember. It was only a matter of time before a broken part was too impossible to repair.

“Ye have the workers, we have the equipment. What say ye to joinin’ forces- increase both our chances of finding the gold, aye?”

He had a point. Blast him for it.

“Let’s say we do, what’s in it for us?” She kept her voice calm, steady, focused.

“Oh lass, for yer trouble, yer workers, we’d gladly grant ye 25% of any treasure unearthed.”

A humorless laugh escaped her lips, one she barely tried to mask. He was right that he had the equipment, but she had an ace up her sleeve, a card yet to play.

She had been on digs her whole life, picked up tricks and remedies from around the world. She was self-sufficient and had kept countless expeditions in good health despite challenging climates and rampant local diseases. She had an inkling of the workers’ illness and was willing to wager on it.

“What if I healed your workers?” Her gaze was steady and sure, a self-confidence creeping into her voice. “That doubles the workforce and speeds up the operation... or would you rather let them wither away and die out here in the desert sun?”

“You?” He eyes her incredulously.

“You, sir,” she was struggling to keep her voice contained, “are in need of a healer- a Beaton. We are 150 kilometers from the nearest city. If you have men in need of healing, you don’t have many options. If you did, you would not be standing here.”

From his pause, she guessed he was contemplating the potential reward as much as the lives as stake. A small head nod and he held out his hand, “Ye heal my workers, ye get 50%.”

Her stare matched his, with a coy smile she countered, “60%. And we have a deal.”

His face went blank; he blinked and shook his head slightly. She had him at a disadvantage, and he fought to hide his acknowledgement. A wee Sassenach lassie had bested him at his own game.

His voice was controlled, clipped, with traces of doubt. “Aye, 60%.”

As Dougal turned to leave, she caught a glimpse of fiery red hair behind him- near the horses. The same deep blue eyes that had danced in firelight the night before stared back at her.

She stood still, taking in his form- the brown jacket well-worn and molded to his muscular frame, and felt heat form on her cheeks. He was standing near the horse corral, one mare hovering close. His hand circled against her neck, she could see a slight movement of his lips, he seemed to be whispering something- keeping it calm. Her eyes followed his movements and felt her breath slow and muscles ease despite the long day. A smile crept across his face and she stood transfixed. His eyes stayed on her while he stepped towards her.

A faint sound came from behind her to break their trance; he stopped in his tracks, watching the dark haired figure lean into her.

“Claire- darling. I’ve got some text here for you to decipher…” Frank’s voice buzzed in her ears as she struggled to draw her eyes away from him. Frank paused for a moment, his face flickering to the broad-shouldered stranger at the stables and traced his eyes back towards Claire. One hand reached for her and she stiffened.

In an instant, auburn brows creased, a look of confusion flashed across his face before his eyes turned a stormy grey, taking in Frank’s arm around her waist.

Clearing her throat, she stepped out of his embrace, the movement subtle but distinct. Tearing her gaze from his, she turned towards Frank. “Alright, let’s see it,” she held out her hand, waiting for the script as her eyes flashed back towards the stable, red curls now gone from sight.

“Where are the sick being held?”

She glanced at the row of tents as she wiped the sweat from her brow.

“Over here,” Roger said, pointing to the farthest cluster of canvas.

There were a dozen cots, lined neatly and filled with withered and worn workers. She gave each worker her full attention, slowly evaluating each soul- checking their pulse, evaluating the whites of their eyes and spoke in a slow, calm tone.

From ancient text, she knew that Egyptians would protect their greatest secrets with booby traps- including pressurized salt dust- when inhaled it created a poison-like effect.

The workers had textbook symptoms- they were confused and declined food; through labored breathing they expressed intense nausea while displaying an all-encompassing weakness.

Acacia. Jasmine. Papryus. There was just enough left- preserved. Fresh water- and lots of it.

“Can ye heal them, then?” His voice was soft but distant, speaking low as to now wake the workers.

She turned to see his blue eyes watching her, a respectable distance but close enough to aid if needed. His shoulders were tense, alert. Her eyes trailed the line from his shoulder down to his bicep. A worn linen shirt was rolled up to his forearm, taught muscles glistening with a light film of sweat.

“I think,” she brought her gaze back to the patient as she stood, stepping back slowly from the last cot, “the concoction will work, but we will need to work fast.”

“Aye. Can I help?” His voice was closer, and she turned to see him, now just inches away from her. His face was honest and eager.

“Yes,” she paused, steadying herself with his nearness. “I’ll just need to procure a few things from my medical bag.”

He shook his head as his voice held traces of a smile, “Figures.”

Her head tilted, a small laugh escaping her lips. “What’s that?”

“It takes a lass to show the way,” his mouth curled into a half smile as his eyes rested on her face.

Her breath hitched as their eyes met, a hit of a smile pulled at the corner of her mouth as she nodded.

You’re too quick by half, lad.

“So-“ he said, shifting the conversation. “Have ye always been a healer?”

“I’m not sure I’d call myself that, I’m an archaeologist who… happens to know a thing or two about healing.”

“Mmmph,” was all she heard as she registered a warm sound from his chest. He smiled at her as they lingered, inches from each other.

“So what’s this about a new theory ye have?” He held her gaze, waiting.

She was caught off guard, not expecting him to ask, but rather to seek counsel from Dougal regarding the next step.

“Oh… well. The hieroglyphics stated A face foreign to Pharaoh’s eyes,” She started slowly, trying to piece together her thoughts.

“Aye- Bembridge confirmed it was Thoth.”

“Err.. yes. But there’s more than one way to interpret foreign.” She paused, taking a step towards the exit. She had more to say, but not in the company of these poor workers.

“You said something to me the other night that got me thinking, and then seeing the acid dust at the base of Thoth, well… it confirmed to me that we were meant to think we were looking for Thoth. To protect the real secret.”

“And what was that?” He took a step closer.

“The secret?” She tilted her head, a tone of humor creeping into the question.

“No, what I said to ye.” His eyes locked on her as he waited.

“Oh… that,” she looked down at her feet, a light cover of dust already evident on her feet as a steady breeze blew through camp. “The other night you… you called me something.”

A genuine smile encompassed his face, “Sassenach.”

“Yes,” she could feel the heat on her cheeks, and prayed it was from the sun beating down from above. “Well, it made me think-”

“Aye?” Another step closer, his head dipped low, watching her.

“Maybe the foreigner was a woman.”

He stopped in his tracks, “A Dhia, Isis. Yer a genius, Claire!”

Before she could respond his lips were on hers, his hand encompassed by her unruly curls.

Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ.

#the foreigners secret fic #satfs fic #outlander fan fic #outlander #fan fic #dem britches #mummy crossover

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