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2024-08-07
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2024-08-23
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6/?
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Wha'll be pets but Terrans? (AU)

Summary:

A Courageous, Battle hardened and Venerable Jacobite Soldier is lost after the dangerous battle of Culloden. Thrown from his force he awakes in another world full of strange (but hot) woman and strange.. plant things. Following this he must try and live with the burdens that follow him and the hellish anguish he feels in having survived.

Chapter 1: Cam ye by Atholl.

Chapter Text

This is an AU oneshot in which a Jacobite soldier gets magically transported to HDG

Don’t question the plot lmao- it’s for a friend :3. THis is also, probably, a one shot.

 

The air is thick, it is a dark night. The date is the fifteenth of April, Year of our Lord Seventeen Forty Six. My feet are bogged down, my kilt is damp and my leine more so. The plaid over my chest is soaked and hangs heavy but holds tight my sword, by God it is a miserable march. We have marched for hours only to be told to go back by Murray. I am disappointed, incredibly so but we do. Sick, tired and hungry. Alack! I get some brief rest though not much. By sunrise we again form ranks, I am a part of my Kinsman, John Macdonald's squadron under Captain Bagot of Fitzjames. Seventy horsemen, primed and proper Scotsman and as noon breaks there we stand on the fields outside Inverness. It is exactly one o’clock my Kinsmen give the order from the Prince to advance and meet o’er yonder the foemen and so we do. We thunder down with our horses at first only to meet a spurious hurrah of the enemy canister fire. Quickly then down falls Lochiel, our leader, as we near their lines but still despite it all and our high losses we reach and though their muskets roar we begin to trample under hoof the enemy ranks and by God it is delighting. I see our highlanders charge with claymores and the like, they fight very bravely. Yet no sooner than when we take the enemy colours do their regiments counter ours and attack with reinforcements of the enemy horsemen. The dreaded Dragoons too arrive and we are trapped, but still we fight on as hours draw on seemingly without end until a Campbell informs us that the line had been broken on the left and the retreat had been sounded and so we broke out. Our Irish Picquets bravely covered our shameful retreat as we did, I felt the hooves of my horse exhausted continue to gallop. By now night was dawning and my eyes strained to see. I was covered in blood and quite weary. Somehow along the way I seem to have gotten lost- for I can no longer see any of my compatriots. A sickly knot ties in my stomach as my horse now slowly passes down by a stream. I am alone and beyond frightened made more when my horse suddenly veers to the right. I look down but there’s nothing there. I push for the horse to go steady but it refuses. Furious I go to punish it but then WHAM I find myself thrown from the equine. The beast flings me from my saddle and before I can think my head smashes onto the rocks of the stream face first and then nothing.*

 

The throbbing shouting of my head is what I awake to. Fuck, FUCK! It is fucking throbbing beyond belief. I want to scream bloody mary as I stand up- I realise half my face was submerged in water. I also realise that it’s light out, the sun is up. The light fills my eyes and burns them, I have to cover my eyes and sit down to let them adjust for a few minutes before I can stand again as my eyes adjust. I see my bonnet with its white cockade has fallen, it’s soaked but I put it back on anyway. The situation isn’t good, I think to myself. Looking around it’s a depression in a glen with a stream through it but I’ve not a clue where I am. It does not look Scottish- the land looks.. Strangely pure. Like a garden of eden of sorts. The water I was just face first in is beyond clear and quite pure as if my blood, mud and what not was surely not just in it. The weather is clear and beautiful too- the muck is all gone and even my clothes seem quite dry despite their state of poverty last before I awoke. Confused, I ponder, how long was I out? I feel my face, it’s rough and I seem to have cuts and what not upon it. Looking then down at my body I seem mostly fine? My legs are still quite bloody- not of my own though, praise God and hail Mary. I lift my kilt ever so slightly, everything is well and my leine is fine too. My horse, alack is nowhere to be seen but I expected that as memories of what I presume yesterday flooded back. I have no idea what to do until it clicks, SHIT! SHIT! I am being chased! The Pretenders Forces are surely out there-! I am most lucky to not have been found and finished up by some Englishmen during the night and so I begin to run up the glen, and run I do. I run for what feels like hours then I find a path! It’s well trodden and trees beset it!

 

This must be my salvation and it surely leads to Inverness where I can travel to, though the land is deeply unfamiliar- perhaps I have simply got lost in the night and my memories are mistaken? Perhaps I am further than I thought- oh well no use dwelling on that now I thought as I travelled beyond the path. Based on the sun it seemed to be in the afternoon now, I think I woke up just before noon so I have been travelling for several hours on foot. Combined with the night before, it aches dearly and my brogues seem worn. My hose too grinds against my skin painfully. Just before I stop to rest I see something! A bench of unusual design- I think of oak? Just up ahead. There seems to be a gentlemen up ahead, he is alone and unarmed. I can see his dark leine and kilt though lacking the hose. His clothing is indeed the most queer but what of it I thought as I approached him, I shouted in English and Gaidhlig, “Hello, Hello friend!” “ Feasgar math a charaid!” which got his attention. His eyes were glassy and he looked even stranger in person.

 

His hair was all wavy and very undone, his expression was of a simple smile and the texture of his clothing seemed unnormal? I could not place a finger on where it could originate. Italy? The Netherlands? Perhaps France? Twas certainly not of Scottish or English design though. I raised my hand in greeting and he did not, ‘okay. rude.’ I thought. “Heyy.” Said he, his voice was quite feminine- was it even a he? No, no it must be. “My good friend, whence could I go to reach Inverness?” I asked pleadfully, the gentlemen though to my contrary did not give no answer. He smiled as he did and looked confused, laughing in a chuckle to himself, “Bro, what?” His accent to me suggested he was an Englishmen which made me suspicious for I had not heard it in any place in Scotland or Ireland. Now I was not a cultured fellow by any means nor a worldy one but I can tell a Kinsmen from a Saxonman.  “I said, my good friend, whence can I go for Inverness?” I repeated, more forcefully this time. “Inver what? I don’t know mannn.. I’ve never heard of an inverness… what’s with your getup?” Spoketh he, lazily. He had never heard of Inverness?! We were perhaps a few miles out yonder from it- my get up? What? I was but in typical hi’land dress! “I like the skirt though.” The devil cut me off as I thought. Haphazardly I move to correct him, “Sassenach, It is no skirt.” I approached him with a scowl on my face, “Saxon, from where do you hail?” My attempt to seem scary completely failed as the dog simply laughed in my face! “Dude, what? My name’s Valriya, first floret.” Valriya…? Floret? Like, as in flowers….? The name was bewildering, not a Saxon name to my knowledge- to me it sounded more continental but even then I could not name a land that could produce such a name. What’s with the floret thing too? “Valriya! My Good Sir!” I declared loudly before he- well she interrupted, “It’s Ma’am, actually… Or just girl!” Well.. she chuckled at the end as if it was some joke, girl? My good girl? What was that to be funny about? I stumbled back a little bit before gaining my footing again. “Well! My good lady! Should I hear one more mocking word, Then I instantly now shall out with my sword!” Before I could finish she erupted into a fit of laughter which deeply enraged me. Had this friend not seen a Scotsmans charge? A Scotsman's rage? By God she was a vile Saxon, I should avenge Culloden here and now! “Silence! Aye, into your body I quickly should lance?!” I stomped my feet as I unsheathed by claymore and pointed it at her which made her stop laughing for a moment. Ah, thought I, now the damsel hath seen my claymore and i’ll spiere at her where’s all ‘er men and she shall surely speak well. I began to prance around her with my claymore, I felt powerful having a Saxon in my grasp, perhaps she was a nobless of England? Twould explain many factors. “Shall I learn ye in the airts o war? Or let the dogs of war confound you?” I plunged my sword into the grass in a dramatic show of strength, she just stared before.. Again, predictably laughing. “Now! What is so funny?!” Shouted I, temper I was losing surely. “Mistress is behind you, silly”

 

 Ah! It must be a noble girl whoms maid is returned. I span around grasping my sword intending to gain yet another fiend to my hostage only to be met with- something. A… humanoid… thing. I… Before me stands that.. Thing. Unlike any else which my sinful eyes have dared to behold. It has the form of a woman- or something approximating what it thinks a woman is. But it’s skin- or lackthereof is not of flesh, but of leaves, vines, flowers and blossoms- wait- flowers- florets! Or is that but a coincidence…umm.. Returning to the… monster. It’s hair- if it can be called that, is a cascade of tendrils and flowers, seemingly changing in their hue, colours and forms. Her eyes are like glistening pools of green dew which seem to envelop me with an otherworldly appearance. Her limbs are very slender and delicate but they shift around uncannily. The sight of this..sìthe born thing surelye conjured from the devil fills me with a sense of dread I hath never felt before. Be it in the tides of battle or elsewhere. Surely it is a being beyond the ken of mortal men. As we stare down each other and this.. Thing seems.. Too confused or perhaps that’s joy? I- i can not tell and that deeply frightens me. It’s fucking eyes change colour- from green to now a deep purple. The voice behind me calls, “Mistress! This guys liike acting realllly weird…” Oh, right! Yes! I thought as I point my sword at the alien, I forgot that I was in reality for but a moment. My voice shouts words of stern command, proud and boisterous as much as I can muster. “You thing! Borne of the Satans conjuring and of Sìthe temptation! Halt there lest your vines be slain!” The creature laughs and it’s voice- I’m unsure what I was expecting but it took me by shock. It was very… not human but- I could understand it.

 

“Valriya, petal, is this boy threatening you?” It asked very kindly and softly, I took a few paces back and spoke, talking over Valriya as she tried saying yes. “This lady is my hostage, should you seek her safety simply say to me where Inverness is and I shall be merry upon my trek. Should you attempt to apprehend me like a felon I shall, into her body, very quickly lance.” I said proudly, standing tall with my claymore. The creature… chuckled… Why did neither take me seriously!? It was so fucking rage inducing, by God I could simply slaughter both of them and be done with this affair! “Petal, are you okay… do you have an owner? Or do you need any xenodrugs?” It seemed to direct that question at me but I didn’t make sense of it. An owner? I was a Clansman, I had no owner for I was no serf. Xeno? I didn’t know what that meant and drugs? Why would I have any need for spices… Was it trying to barter with me..? “I have no need for your spices! I need directions to Inverness. But should you offer, I should take your spices and directions for your wards safety.” If nothing else at least the negotiations had begun, I thought. The creature seemed.. Confused, like I. That was relieving, at least it too was not perfect and all knowing. One of it’s many vines strutted over and attempted to touch Valriya. Quickly I moved with my sword to block it and so the vine retreated. Satisfied, I smirked with my victory. Until several more vines suddenly appeared and before I could react grabbed my claymore out my hands without so much as a sweat- damn! Now this was bad. “You could hurt yourself with this.” That blasted thing said- fuck! The thing had my claymore  and all I had with a sgian dubh on my thigh, in my hose. But this thing was clearly a better combatant- I had to run. Quickly taking to my feet I beat a very brave retreat, turned on my hind and began to run.  While doing so I unpicked the Sgian Dubh from my hose and kept running. I did not look back to see if I was pursued and simply assumed I was. After the sprint I took a moment to breathe. It seemed like I was free! Well, that could have went better. Of course, that was until I felt a soft prickle in my arm. I darted my eyes over and saw.. Nothing? Until I felt a sudden onset of extreme tiredness and my head began to fall forth and my body and oh fuck I was about to fall- I saw the ground rapidly come close until oblivion then dawned.

 

When I woke up, unlike last time I.. felt very much fine. My eyes opened fine and I did not feel the slightest bit of pain, my face felt as usual. As my eyes opened though I was.. Somewhere not where I desired to be. I was in.. an exceedingly soft room of some sorts. With an absurdly large pile of.. What I can only describe to be dolls with fabric on the likeliness of… things. Animals and creatures it seemed. Not what I expected, indubiously. It was this startling revelation which made me look over myself. I was still in my proper dress but without my weapons- which was to be expected. But besides that I was untouched, unharmed and in good health. I had to throw myself of the pile of said dolls that I was practically sleeping on just a few minutes before onto the soft floor. The room had queer materials which seemed to be designed to hurt yourself on and be.. Fine? It was quite colourful too, very many colours bright and… oh what was that Frankish word… Pastel! Yes, quite pastel. It was indeed calming though, for I felt quite calm and quite at ease. There was a window too- it was on the roof. It gave a lot of natural light in to the room and gave me a good view of the outside. Lots of trees, lots of fauna as well.

 

As I was busy observing the world above me, as if on cue another one of those creatures- I could not tell if it was the same one as before- came into the room. “Sleep well, Petal?” By now I’ve noticed that those.. Things and their associates use a lot of words related to flowers… tis queer, most queer, aye… Oh right it expects me to respond, right. “Aye.” I simply said, nodding. Continuing it’s… dreadfully strange voice kept on. “Well, cutie, that’s good to hear…” The uneasy silence lingered in the room, now I was quite an aloof fellow when it came to sociability but I think she was stopping herself before she- “Well first things first, what’s your name? Mine is Anagallis Arvensis, Sixth bloom and a servant of the Office of Transitional Neoxenoveterinary Archeobureaucracy.” I glared at her, the office of.. What? Those words made no sense- okay so… Let me break that down, transitional…what does that mean? Transitionary? Well what does trans mean? To go across- oh yes transition. THat’s what they mean. Right.. Just weirdly spoken then the.. Neoxeno? What.. type of word was that? Wait, Xeno, Xenodrugs those spices- so Neo and Xeno are two different words? Oh well I know not what they mean. Then.. veterinary .. I don’t know what that means either. Archeo.. Archaeology? That’s a french word, ancient history, no? Bureaucracy is a queer word but too hails from France.. Are these.. Things.. French? But then why are they like the English-! The gentle touch of a vine interrupted me from my thoughts, “Petal?” It repeated. Oh dear I was lost in thought. “Oh, ehm- pardon me, what did you say?”  

 

The thing looked a tad concerned but repeated itself. “I am an Affini. That is my race. I have studied your race intently for my last four blooms. What is your name?” An Affini.. What.. the fuck? “My name is Alasdair MacDòmhnail… From Clan Raghnaill.” Twas at that that the so-called ‘Affini’ looked.. Beyond words really, well.. I can’t really tell what it was thinking but I assume it wasn’t anything good. It seemed however, confounded and displeased, it said something it’s bedamned tongue which to me was incomprehensible. You could barely recognise it as speech..! As it kept.. Oddly looking at me I felt inclined to grab one of those things. It looked kind of like a horse but it was a winged unicorn. I liked unicorns. This unicorn had a yellow crown and ethereal mane and tail. With it’s hooves held with a golden sort of brace?  Hm around it’s neck was this strange sort of vest with a purple jewel in the centre. That said it also had a purple jewel on it’s crown, interesting. Was this meant to be one of Posideons Pegasus? Regal and horned or something? It looked somewhat majestic, it would be a fine gift to many a laird and lady. Those thoughts could wait though, I looked up at the Affini again. “What then is to happen?” I speired at her, she replied quickly, “Well.. you did threaten a floret and Affini with a sword… Attempting to hurt another sophont is grounds for immediate domestication.” Oh fuck, I was surely dammed now. Surely to be hanged and never see Loch Lomond again for assaulting a fine Lady and her maid. “But, you are.. Something I don’t think anyffini have seen or heard of. I scarce believe it myself.” She continued, “Despite Terra being domesticated for centuries and under our watchful eye you have nothing… We’ve ran all sorts of tests on you and nope, nothing, not across the entire Compact! Then you suddenly appear in such authentic and legitimate gaberdine! Did you just.. Appear? Here? Tell me what happened, now, petal.”


This creature sure was something, this entire situation was fucking mind fucked. I wanted to assail this fucking creature before me, What do you mean Terra was domesticated for centuries? What are you, who are you? Where am I? So many unresolved questions that I just had to put to rest, I guess I ought to recount my story to her, perhaps I can bargain my way out of certain death. “Well, I suddenly awoke in a glen. I had fought the night before under King Charles Edward Stuart's banners. I do quite believe I got lost at night and then suddenly my horse threw me from my saddle.. I can’t quite remember why. But- but then I woke up- again in the glen. Then I just… walked.. And walked.. Until I found that Lady… I presumed she could tell me how to get to Inverness.” The Affini interrupted me, “Why’d you want to go there?” The fucking dog! How dare she interrupt me? “Don’t interrupt me, you insolent fiendish dog!” I shouted at her, only for a vine to prick my arms and gag my mouth. I tried to breathe- i could breathe fine but the gag stopped me from speaking. I felt something enter my veins and spread through. The gag was removed and I moved to speak again, “That was fucking rude you-” The vine roughed my hair up gently. “Listen, don’t speak, just listen. I will ask questions, you answer.” I wanted to object but before I could she spoke, “When where you born?” Does this mad thing think I should answer her justly?! Well I was about to make clear she was most wrong yet my body revolted against me! “Seventeen twenty six, year of our lord.” She smiled, “And where were you born?” “Near Loch Shiel.” This fucking dog! How the hell did she do it?! “Very good, now, Petal, what do you think I am?”

 

Shit. “Well you are clearly a fucking dog, a vermin and filth of the filth, the most crude and impure of seeds of the frankish and saxon mixing which betwixt a impure race which is of fauna, surely cursed by the Lord that seeks to kill and erase the faithful followers of the Prince.” Well…was I wrong..? What else could it be? The plant woman.. Licked her lips? Or made a motion which looked like she did that..? Do they have lips? Oh well, I know it not. “Well, what if I told you we were in fact about.. Three Thousand Eight Hundred and four of the common era- which you call three thousand eight thousand eight hundred and four of your lord. Or about.. Two thousand and fifty nine years in the future.” Oh… If that was true that was.. Not what I really expected but it was entirely believable. The Affini were.. Well from beyond this world! Perhaps it’s just been.. A very long sleep. “But.. that is impossible! I- I was just- last night- I was fighting- Culloden- I- damn me?!” I sounded incredibly distressed- Now that I felt it was on the cusp of tears- I was normally quite the stoic like Marcus Aurelius but- I felt my knees go weak- tears began to strew out- what the fuck was this witchcraftery of the fucking dogs?!I felt it’s disgustingly impure vines touch my skin and my clothes softly and reassuringly. I wanted to gnaw them off. I grabbed that winged unicorn again, tightingly pulling it to my chest and stuffing it against my plaid it was very soft. I can see why there was so many, they were most comfortable. I remained in that state , being disgustingly coddled by that creature for a couple minutes I think before it spoke to me again. “Petal, It’s been two hours, can I speak again?” Oh, two hours… Oh dear… Notwithstanding though I nodded. “Pet, your case is.. Beyond and as such I think I shall personally take you as my floret.” I opened my mouth to speak again but the fucking scum gagged me and again she pricked me with something! It was a familiar feeling- the same I felt before I woke up her-...

 

Those fucking plants need to stop putting me to sleep at their will, was my first thought as my eyes grew open to the world around me. I was on.. A divan of sorts, I was lying alone. It was white, pristine and clean. Around the room it was a maximalist room, very.. Different from what I was used to. The architecture and furniture was.. Beyond my comprehension. There was candles that seemed to use no flame as well and produce great light. Beside me was another wide divan with another thankfully human person on it. They however were not like me. They had very long hair, were quite tall, had.. Well endowed breasts and were all around quite beautiful. I felt myself staring at them, their skin was soft, softer than anything I had ever seen with the brightest eyes. Oh heavens, was I fancying this lady already? Remain chaste, Noble Alasdair, thought I. Alack again! My eyes lingered for just a moment too long and the lady turned her eyes towards me. She was smiling as if she had not a concern in the world and wanted for nothing.

 

I turned to what she was looking at before, mostly for I disliked looking at folk. It was flat and had like.. A moving painting but it was real? Well it was painted but it was moving and it’s painting style was very weird! This world just keeps getting queerer and queerer. “Alasdair!” Came that woman's voice, begrudgingly I turned. “What meanest thou, woman? May I be left alone?! For I am at my cant!” The beautiful woman stuck out two fingers at me, her middle finger and index finger.. For some reason?  I returned the gesture, assuming it to be obscene. That said her voice was not angry it was.. Not giving a care? Compared to mine, which was passionately enraged, she was quite calm and seemed jovial. “I like your skirt, by the by.” Skirt! Skirts are for woman! It’s a fucking kilt! You fucking rat! I had fucking had it! Thise entire dream was acursed, hellish! “You fiend! You dog! It’s a kilt! It’s a true Scotsman dress! It is not a skirt! You fairer best stand guard for I could turn thee into a bundle of wounds you queerest venom!” Again.. Like every single creature I have encountered she laughed at me. What was I doing which was so comical to these persons?! For the first time since I was a child I felt truly angry at a woman.

 

 I think it was the first time in my life I wanted to kill one. I stood up intending to make due on my promise, she stood up and I quickly realised she was much taller than me. I was of modest height for my time. A fine five feet and two inches. Not bad, not bad at all. This woman, though, was.. Perhaps six feet and four inches? I gulped but- no I couldn’t back down lest I look more like a clown! I stood as tall as I could and attempted to flex my muscles but no, this woman was my superior in physical things. She was well nourished and- oh right. The realisation dawned on me I had not eaten in.. days. Fuck, fuck, I was starving. I had somehow forgotten about it but now I realised it that the craving of my empty stomach was there. Nonetheless, with honour and courage I resigned myself to the fate of losing against this maiden. I decided my best strategy was to strike her, strike hard and deep! So I lunged forth but she simply stepped to the side and my lunge fell through. She caught me by the arm and pulled me back. My position now was leaning forward with her holding me from behind. I struggled and frustrated her to try let her go but she simply pulled me closer to her and wrapped her arms around me. “Come onnn Alasdair, that’s no way for my little brother to treat me!”

 

Eh..? She sat down where she was sitting and dragged me onto her lap as she reclined back. I was facing that.. Withcraftery device that was projecting paintings on to it… The fact I had simply glossed over that now made me realise how truly fucked I was. But, again, notwithstanding that devious woman whispered in my ear. “So! Since you, Alasdair, attacked me and lost- pathetically- I’ll decide what we watch today and what you’ll eat before Mistress comes home!” Damn me, for this was sure to be a hellish experience, was it not? I yearned instead that a perfidious Saxon canister had ripped through me to save me from this hellish experience of being cradled atop this tall woman and forced to watch.. Something. Talking animals- what that was that winged unicorn I saw before. Celestia? An interesting name- but- back to my melancholy! O Jesus and Mary Mother save me from this hell!


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