All language subtitles for Outlander.Blood.of.My.Blood.S01E02.S.W.A.K.720p.HEVC.x265-MeGusta[EZTVx.to]

Previously...

Now that your father
has passed,

there are plenty of folk
more than eager

to see the demise
of Clan MacKenzie.

'Tis a time for celebration,
is it not?

Ye ken she loved
Da more than most.

And wi' him gone,
she's lost her power.

Have you seen Ellen?

Some saw her going off
with Malcolm Grant.

Dougal, have ye
lost yer way?

We must make amends
without delay.

Where in God's name
have you been?

What does that matter?

On principle alone,
I will not tell you.

Give Ellen to Malcolm Grant.

How is it you came into
the service of the Grants?

Met Malcolm in Inverness,
asked me to be their bladier.

Ah, thereby hangs a tale.

You have to be unseen.

Ah!

Sweetheart?

♪ Long the way ♪

♪ O'er the bridge I crossed ♪

♪ For my love ♪

♪ For my love that's lost ♪

♪ By the brae ♪

♪ In the verdant moss ♪

♪ Where I watch
Where I wait ♪

♪ For my love that's lost ♪

♪ Hi a bho ♪

♪ Hoireann eile o ♪

♪ Hi a bho ♪

♪ Fair a leo fair a lè ♪

♪ Hi a bho ♪

♪ Hoireann eile o ♪

♪ 'S tu mo run
'S tu mo ghràdh ♪

♪ Agus m' eudail o ♪

Go! Go! Move, move!

Come on!

Where's Private Charlton?

Who was the last man
to see Private Charlton?

Captain!

Captain, one of my men
hasn't returned.

That's unfortunate, Lieutenant.

Sir, he's young, sir,
and bloody brave.

Please, I can go back. I can--

I'm sorry.

Sir...

I made a promise to the men

that I wouldn't leave
anyone behind this time.

- Please--
- You did make a promise--

to follow orders
in His Majesty's Army.

Your order is to stand down.
Am I understood?

Sir...

I think I could do it, sir,
if you'd just let me try.

I said stand down.
Do you hear me?

Two, three.

Two, three.

Beauchamp!

Easy.

Easy now. Easy.

Make room. Make room.

All right, Willie, lad.
All right.

Let's have a look.

It's just
a Blighty wound, Willie.

You mean enough
to send me home?

That's right, Private.
That's right.

This is for my mother.

I wanted to say sorry
for joining up.

Can you help me get it to her?

Certainly not.

You can give it to her
yourself, all right?

- Good man.
- Beauchamp.

You just rest, Willie.

You disobeyed
a direct order, Beauchamp.

I'd be quite within my rights
to shoot you.

But if I did,

I fear the regiment
would run me through.

His mother deserved
to have him home, sir...

one way or the other.

Indeed she does.

In the future, Lieutenant,
if you have one...

try to restrain yourself.

You have my word, sir.

As you were.

"To whom it may concern,

I write to you
from hell on Earth--

the Western Front.

Here I have learned a thousand
different ways to suffer,

countless different ways
to die.

I've lost more friends
than I care to remember,

but even death itself
is kinder

than some of the things
that I have seen,

things that I wish
I could erase from my mind

with every fiber of my being.

All around me,

brave souls cling to their
last shreds of dignity,

and men who once laughed
and loved

lie alongside boys

who have barely had time
to do either,

buried in some bloodied bit
of foreign soil."

Corporal.

"It is possible
to withstand physical pain,

but an injured mind is,
I fear, irreparable,

particularly one bearing
the immortal wounds of war.

I find myself destined,
perhaps,

to join the hordes of men

who are aching for peace
and waiting for death,

not fearing it as such,

not the when
or the where of it,

not even the how, but the why.

And so,
before that time comes,

I write not just as a soldier
but as a witness

to the tragedy
that's unfolding daily

in this infernal place

to let you know
that we are trying,

holding on to sanity
as best we can,

holding on
to a dwindling hope.

But fear is a powerful poison."

You're the only person I know
who'd take a break from reading

to read even more.

What is it today?
Botany? Physics? Chemistry?

Biochemistry.

Well, when your break is over,

have a look
at the new work assignments.

Oh, goodness me.

- Blimmin' trolley!
- Oh, my goodness, sorry.

You can barely make out a word.

- Have that, Julia.
- Oh, thank you very much.

Think I can remember.

Uh...

Uh, Broodseinde,

Regiments 4 and 9
on Desk A,

uh, Poelcappelle,
Regiments 8 and 11

on Desk E,

and Passchendaele,

Regiments 6, 12, and 99

on C and J.

I have no idea how you do that,

but it certainly makes
my life easier.

I'll take Passchendaele, then.

"Living through these
incredibly uncertain times,

is it not enough
of a thrill for you?"

You need to be careful, Julia.

All this
civil-disobedience stuff.

I remember the hunger strikes

and that woman who died jumping
in front of the king's horse.

- Emily Davison?
- Mm.

Well, things are different now.

We're turning the tide
of public opinion in our favor

- with our war work.
- "We"?

I'm very proud
of the work we do.

I just hope that one day,

like many of the highly
educated women involved,

that I'll be admitted
to university

and eventually earn a degree.

They're never going to award
women a degree, surely.

The first matriculated
female undergraduates

at a British university were
the Edinburgh Seven, 1869.

Yes, they may not have been
permitted to graduate...

I knew it.

...but there have been many
since- remarkable women.

You have a memory
like a bloody steel trap.

There's one here
about a soldier

who had to have both arms
amputated because of gangrene.

Says his comrades
nicknamed him Octopus.

It's awful, isn't it?

If we didn't laugh,
we'd sob for all of eternity.

I thought I'd start to feel
numb to it after three years.

I don't think I'll ever
get used to the fact

that so many of them
are so very young.

Come on, then, they'll be
waiting for us to finish.

Mother, I hope this
short note finds you well.

My dearest daughter Phyllis...

I hope this
short note finds you well.

I'm sending all my love.

Weather has been...

I am so very weary...

Terrible feeling...

I must close now.

Keep me in your prayers.

Please remember me...

"I suppose I could
have written this letter

to my brother,

but I realized that every man
in Passchendaele

is a brother of mine.

Only here, you see,
brother slays brother

in a world where their father,
God Himself, is dead.

So, instead,
this is an open letter

to ask quite sincerely
what is there to live for?

- Passchendaele.
- Yes. Yes, of course.

"If God is not dead,
then He has forgotten us.

And I am starting
to forget, perhaps,

not what we are fighting for

but what we are dying for.

Yours,
Lieutenant Henry Beauchamp."

"Dear Lieutenant Beauchamp,

you asked
a difficult question,

to which
there is no easy answer,

but I feel compelled to reply.

My name is Julia Moriston,

and like you,
I often wonder why.

Why must we live
through this abominable war?

I do not know.

But the naturalist in me
finds comfort

in the arms of Mother Nature.

Nature always finds a way.

I'm reminded of the raindrop-

never too small
or insignificant

to make a difference,

beautifully volatile,
evaporating,

falling as precipitation,

joining the rivers
until it becomes the ocean.

There is a certain alchemy
to it.

We, too, are shaped
and changed by our suffering

until we are strong enough,
like water,

to carve our way through rock.

I've known suffering
and grief.

When my parents died,

I was determined
to carry on doing

what I knew
would make them proud.

I paused my studies to make
my own small contribution

to the war effort.

So I know what it is
to feel alone

and to ask why.

When all else fails...

Beauchamp.

...take a deep breath

and remember
England is still here.

Do not give up, Lieutenant.

And if you need to confide
in someone,

you may write back to me.

And, perhaps boldly,
I shall expect a reply."

Gas! Gas, gas, gas!

"Dear Julia,

I hardly know where to begin,
but you are right.

There was profound magic
in your words,

some strange alchemy

that produced in me
a glimmer of hope."

"Dear Henry,

remember that our very
existence itself

is miraculous.

As human beings,
we have a profound capacity

for love and goodness."

"Julia, I have been
devouring your letters.

I so hope you got
my last ones in order.

Tuesday's might arrive
after Wednesday's."

"Henry, have you heard
from your brother Lam?

Has he uncovered
a new Egyptian pharaoh?"

"I can't wait to hear
what you've been up to,

what you've been reading
this week.

You still
in your Scottish phase?"

"I adore Scotland-
the flora and the fauna,

the landscape,
the archaeology,

something inescapably romantic
about all of it.

Folklorist J.F. Campbell
writes of a man

who joins the circle dance

of a faerie ring
in the Highlands.

When he comes out,
he feels as though

he's only been gone
for a moment,

but, really, it's been years.

That's how our letters
feel to me.

I could spend an eternity
in the dance of our words."

"The poet John Donne writes,

"More than kisses,
letters mingle souls."

I think you know by now
that I find in you

a kindred spirit, a soulmate.

But just to be
on the safe side,

I'm sealing this letter
with a kiss."

"I'll raise you
some Robert Burns

for your John Donne.

"My heart's in the Highlands.

"My heart is not here.

My heart's in the Highlands
a-chasing the deer."

Or it would be, if it wasn't
on the battlefield with you."

"Should I be worried?

Are you going to run off
with some handsome Highlander?

I've never made the journey,

but I've always longed
to visit Scotland.

Sounds as if I might have
to start packing,

if only to stay
in this faerie dance with you.

As it happens,

I am trying to convince
my commanding officer

to allow me my leave
in the coming month.

Not enough time for a trip
all the way up north,

but London, perhaps."

"That would be wonderful.

Did you know that
my greatest fear is not death

but us never having
the chance to meet?"

Bailwick.

Bellam.

- Beauchamp.
- Yes.

Whoo-hoo! Lefty has
another one from his Betty.

Hook, line and sinker.

He's not even seen--

Help! Help!

Get me out!

"Julia, I have decided
to call you my hope,

for that is
what you are to me.

Fingers crossed
my leave will come through."

"Hope springs eternal.

I've never heard
your voice, Henry,

but the silence is deafening.

It's been two weeks and a day
since your last letter.

I won't despair just yet,
since "hope" is our byword,

but I am frightened, Henry."

Is he still intending
to take his leave?

Last I heard,
if reinforcements arrive.

And if he's still...

You might have to brace
yourself, my dear.

Hope springs eternal.

Henry?

Julia.

My hope.

Oh, I don't know
what I'm doing.

Ah. Wait, wait, wait, wait.

You're not worried that we're
not married yet, are you?

"Yet"? Not exactly up there
with the proposals

of great literary masterpieces.

But, yes, I accept.

Mm.

Blasted thing.

You know, I thought I'd have
to put away my dreams

to go to war, but...

oh, here you are.

- Oh.
- Oh. Oh, God.

Oh, stay still. Stay still!

For God's sake.

Oh, what was it we
promised each other, again?

For richer or poorer,
for better or worse.

Through doors wide and narrow.

Yes, my darling,
something like that.

- Oh.
- Oh, I can't believe we did it.

I'm so very glad the priest
was able to fit us in.

So am I.

Well, welcome home,
Mrs. Beauchamp.

I love you, Henry.

Henry, my darling,
are you still awake?

I don't like to blow
my own trumpet,

but it seems
I am quite the horologist.

Henry?

Henry.

No!
Oh, God!

There's gas everywhere!
There's gas! There's gas!

- It's okay. Come back to me.
- Oh, God! Oh, God!

- Come back to me.
- Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God!

You're in a flat
in London with me.

Oh, God. Oh.

You are here.

Dear Lieutenant Beauchamp,
my name is Julia Moriston,

and like you,
I often wonder why.

Julia. Julia.

My hope.

Yes, my darling.

Hold on to your hope.

My ring.

Oh, no.

Henry?

Henry!

This isn't funny!

Henry!

Henry!

Excuse me.

Excuse me.

Excuse me.

Have you...

have you by any chance
seen a man on this road?

Wavy hair, blue eyes?

We had an accident
in our motorcar,

my husband and I,
and somehow we were separated.

Oh, uh, I-I don't know Gaelic,
I'm afraid.

Do you speak
any English at all?

Ah, Sassenach.

Please, can you help me?

Perhaps- perhaps you could-

you could ask the authorities
in Inverness,

uh, to- to send help?

Inbhir Nis?

Inverness, yes, yes, yes.
Yes, that's right.

Oh, I'd be ever so grateful.

Inbhir Nis. Inverness.

Oh, no.

See, I have to stay here
to look for my husband.

What are you--

No!

Get off of me!

No! No!

Let me--

Julia!

Feeling
a wee bit better, dearie?

What- what are you doing?

Just trying to help,
if you'll let me.

Where am I?

Castle Leathers.

I'm Mistress Porter, housekeeper.

And the people
that brought me here?

The Connors've gone, lass.

Done their part.

I don't understand.

Delivered ye here
as payment for their debts.

They owed a fair amount.

Get--ah!

No! Get your hands off me!

My, my, my, a Sassenach!

And a fiery one.

You can't keep me here
like some sort of prisoner.

I hope you didn't speak
to your last master this way.

"Master"?

Mistress Porter,

a maidservant
needs more suitable attire.

Yes, m'laird.

I am not your maidservant.

I am Julia Beauchamp
of Hyde Park, London.

I think you'll find
that you're now the property

of Simon Beaufort Fraser
of Leathers.

Lord Lovat.

Father.

We should press for
the Connors' coin instead.

And why on earth
would I do that?

The coffers are dwindling.
The house is in need of repair.

That may be, but I have
my own particular needs

to think of as well.

Please.

Excuse me.
Excuse me, gentlemen!

Sassenach.

Sassenach?

What on earth?

Oh, Julia...

what has happened to us?

Excuse me, sir, I'm, uh-
I'm looking for a lady.

- Uh, dark hair, blue eyes.
- A lady?

Oh, you'll not find one
of those in here, sir.

There's a few bonnie, uh--

bonnie faces right enough,
Sassenach.

But, uh, all of them
have bollocks.

Forgive me.

Aye, what are you having?

Yes. I'll have a, uh-
a pint of ale, please.

Ale it is, then.

Well, sir, I am rather
urgently looking for a lady

by the name of Julia Beauchamp.
If...

Uh, sorry, I don't seem
to, uh, have any, um...

You owe me.

As I was saying, Mr. Grant,

the terms we're proposing
are quite generous.

Three dwellings on fertile land
that borders Grant land

in exchange for monies owed.

Ah, a surprisingly generous
offer from the Campbells.

- Do you think so?
- Aye.

I can assure you, Mr. Grant,

of the good condition
of the properties mentioned.

You'd be able to house
a fair few families.

Aye, I think
your da will approve.

Do hope they brought the deeds
to those properties, hmm?

What in God's name
did he just say?

Wait!

Ah!

How dare you involve yourself
in clan matters?

I'm sorry! Look, please,
I meant nothing by it.

Should have kept
your mouth closed, then.

Wait!

Maybe slit his throat first.

Hold.

Now, what were you
saying in there?

You were kind enough
to pay for my ale.

I was merely pointing out what
I'm sure you already noticed.

Please, I don't want
to be involved.

Too late for that now.

Tell me what you meant
by what you said.

You'll tell that to my father.

You'll begin
with the washing and mending

and windows and stairs.

The chamber pots
need emptying as well,

and you'll assist the cook,
of course.

Please, ma'am.

Mistress Porter.

Mistress Porter,
I don't belong here.

I came to the Highlands
with my husband on holiday.

Holy day?

Which holy day would that be?

He had business in Edinburgh,
so we thought we'd turn it

into a longer trip, but...

I cannot explain it.
I-I lost him.

How long has it been
since his passing?

No, he hasn't-
he hasn't passed away.

He's alive.

And he must be looking for me.

Well, he hasna found ye yet,
has he?

If it's been more than
a fortnight, then...

I doubt he's coming
for you now.

What- what day is it now?

Must have knocked
the sense out of you.

It's a Saturday.

Saturday.

Saturday when?

Next, you'll be asking me
what year it is,

or who sits upon the throne.

K- King George V.

King George I...

in the year of our Lord 1714.

Goodness me.

No, it--it--it can't be.

I...

I have a husband.

I have- I have
a daughter, Claire.

I-I need to get back to them.
I must.

I'm sorry for you, lass...

but you've been sold to us,
and here you'll stay.

But I have no patience

for impertinence
or disobedience, mind you,

and neither does the laird.

And one last thing...

on occasion...

our laird can be
most attentive.

Try not to linger
in his presence.

Now, wash that look
off your face

and come and find me
in the kitchen.

Our laird, Isaac Grant,

I present Mr. Henry Beauchamp.

My son says you have
something to tell me.

It was merely an observation.

"An observation"?

I've been trying to get

what the Campbells owe me
for months,

so I do hope
that what you have for me

is more than an observation,
Sassenach.

Yes, well, in- in my experience
as a solicitor,

you know, uh,
a lack of legal paperwork

is never a good sign
when it comes to property.

That's it?

Uh...

Well...

it seems you're unfamiliar
with how we conduct our affairs

here in the Highlands.

A man's word is his bond.

And quite right.

And I shan't
trouble you any further.

If you'd just kindly
let me go, I could, uh--

Tell him what you told me
at the well.

Well, I mean,
judging by what I heard,

you know...

...um, if you were to accept

the properties that
the other party are offering--

The Campbells.

The Campbells,
uh, were offering,

um, there would be no guarantee

of ownership on the land
on which they sit.

You see, the written contract

must state
that you would own the land

and collect the rents,
not the, um- the Campbells.

Told you, Da.

He has an eye
for the particulars.

Well, with all due respect,

it wasn't the particulars
that drew my attention,

it was your advisor.

Pádraig Druiminn is my bladier.

Apart from my son here,

he's my most trusted counsel

and my right hand
in all matters.

What observation do you have
to make about him, then?

Uh...

He was misrepresenting you.

Why don't you search
this most trusted of bladiers

for a sack of coins?

Not his usual purse.

Mr. Bug.

You're canny...

...for a Sassenach.

How would you like to be
my new bladier?

- What about the other fellow?
- Never mind him.

Well, unfortunately,

there are other matters
occupying my time.

See, I'm actually urgently
searching for someone.

Our business would take you
all across the Grant lands

and beyond.

An opportunity to kill two
birds with one stone, perhaps.

I'm afraid, as much as
I would like to accept--

Well, you're not obliged,
of course.

You're free to continue
on your own.

And good luck to you.

But...

an Englishman...

alone in the Highlands...

without protection...

You would have all this
at your disposal,

and the strength
of the Grant name behind you.

I see.

Well, very well, then.

I'd like to accept.

Let's have a dram.

What are you doing in here?

Oh, forgive me, sir.
I-I was dusting.

I'll leave you to your work.

Oh, there's no work
that cannot wait

when there's a bonnie
English rose before me.

You are too kind, sir.

Oh, how very observant of you.

Kind.

Handsome, some might say.

The perfect gentleman.

Well, I'm- I'm finished
in here.

I have some mending to do
for Mistress Porter, so I--

Ah, ah.

I'm the laird...

and you'll do as I say.

Oh, here I am, Mistress Porter.

Oh.

Could have sworn
I heard her calling me.

Very well.

Not this time.

You've enough there
for a long journey.

Please, sir.

Brian. Fraser.

Mr. Fraser, I believe
your father is the laird.

I don't belong here.

I'm trying to find my husband.
Please let me go, I beg you.

That may be true,

but you'll no' find him
tonight.

There's a storm coming.

A Highland storm's
unforgiving.

If you're caught out here,
you'll soon be humbled

or suffer a fate much worse.

I've weathered many a storm.

I appreciate your concern,
but I will take my chances.

My da willna.

He'll send his man Balloch
here after you.

A matter of pride.

Please.

Balloch! No!

No! Please!

Get your hands off of me!

You- no!

Let me- let me go!

No! No!

Let me go! No!

What have you to say
for yourself?

I have told you,
I do not belong here.

I am no one's prisoner
or servant, for that matter.

I was doing what anyone
in my position would have done.

Twenty should be
lesson enough

to temper that insolence.

Father, it wasna her.
'Twas me.

Ask Balloch, here.

I aided her in her attempt.

I heard her pleas
to you, and...

well, I convinced her to go.

Mistress Porter,

take our new maidservant
to her quarters

and make sure that
she's secured for the night.

Give him the twenty, then.

- No.
- No.

Don't make me say it again
or you'll both be joining him.

Dinna fash, Ma.
'Tis only a few lashes.

Would you like to count?

Or shall I?

The bladier's quarters.

I think you'll find it
to your liking.

If not, you can sleep
in the barn

with the other beasts.

You don't like me much, do you?

Dinna ken you well enough
to have formed an opinion.

Ah...

your predecessor.

Now, him,
I didna like much at all.

I must apologize
for the conduct

of the younger MacKenzie.

Since the death of his father
this past month,

he's not been himself.

No, I'd say that his fisticuffs
spoke quite clearly

to the younger Grant's face.

Hmm?

The laird is not pleased.

What can I do on behalf
of the MacKenzies

to make things right
with the Grants?

I'm not sure that there
is anything you can do.

Perhaps you might
consider an offer...

...a betrothal

between our Ellen MacKenzie
and Malcolm Grant,

their marriage
come harvest time.

A- a gesture of peace
and an alliance

that will benefit both clans.

The laird...

he wants
Dougal MacKenzie's head,

not his sister's hand.

You're still a stranger
in these parts.

Not been with the Grants long
at all.

Here at the gathering,
I couldn't help but notice

that you've been asking
for a woman.

There are plenty to hand,
but none to your liking?

No.

I have, um...

particular tastes.

Perhaps we could help
each other.

You bring an offer
of a betrothal to the Grants,

and I will...

offer my assistance

in satisfying
your particular tastes.

I will put your offer
before the laird.

"My dearest Henry,

my last memory with you
was at the circle of stones.

There was a deafening sound,
like an angry swarm of bees,

and then you were gone.

Or perhaps I was.

Perhaps I am dead.

Perhaps I've lost my mind.

Have I fallen through
the looking glass?"

"My dearest Julia,

everywhere I turn,
I search for your face,

but it remains elusive.

Each day, I am forced
to play a role,

to wear a mask of bravery
that feels foreign to me.

The memory of you and Claire
is my only solace-

the single thread
keeping me tethered to hope.

Without you, I am adrift,

a man lost
in a sea of uncertainty

and longing."

"I am the same as I ever was-

mad with love for you,

our beautiful Claire,
and our unborn child.

But my circumstances
have changed.

There are some
unfathomable obstacles

in our path.

I don't know how this letter
could possibly reach you.

Perhaps it will simply be
a record of my thoughts."

"I vow to you
with every fiber of my being

that I will find
my way back to you.

No matter the distance
or the time that separates us,

I will not rest
until we are reunited."

"You are surely home
by now with our darling girl.

I must believe that you are.

How could I bear this
otherwise?

Kiss her for me.

Tell her I love her.

I promise to find a way
to both of you.

Just as your first letter
found me,

I'll find a way back to you."

"You are my anchor, my love,

and my reason
for enduring this madness.

Sealed with a kiss,

Henry."