Oh, to share with you a tale of whimsical wonder! This festive season, I dared to whisper to Santa Claus a most peculiar wish: to gift me a ruggedly handsome gent donning minuscule spectacles as he diligently scribbled away on paperwork. Lo and behold, he arrived early, delivering beyond my wildest dreams! "Common Ground" unfolds with Jamie Fraser, spectacled sprite extraordinaire, inscribing Governor Tryon's land grant, thereby claiming 10,000 acres of Fraser's Ridge as his very own. How does one proceed from such a scene? Someone, please, hand this gentleman more parchment to sign forthwith! There's an undeniable charm in witnessing a muscular man donning tiny glasses to tender important documents; it captivates me every single time, and I make no apologies for it.
Alas, those tiny lenses eventually surrender to the air. Jamie and Tryon engage in a seemingly civil discourse, yet beneath the surface lies a web of tension. Tryon expects Jamie to be the model settler, dutifully paying his taxes, along with anyone else who dares to tread upon his land. The cost, be it what it may. Jamie retaliates with wit, remarking, "Savagery can manifest in myriad forms... I've seen it in both prince and pauper," but Tryon remains unmoved. To him, any defiance towards the King is barbaric, a sentiment sure to sow discord in the days to come.
As if Jamie and Claire's plate weren't already overflowing, they now find themselves landowners of a staggering 10,000 acres! I, an unenlightened soul in matters of real estate, can only marvel at such an expansive claim. They gather provisions—both of the preserved meats and the Young Ian variety—in Wilmington, bidding adieu once more to Fergus and Marsali, the latter now ripely pregnant, as though Claire had slumbered beside a forest skull for eons. Marsali pines for her mother, Laoghaire, a figure less than admirable, evoking in Claire a pang of guilt, contemplating if abandoning her own daughter was selfish and wrong. Claire, dear heart, perhaps you ought to have pondered that before voluntarily venturing two centuries past her birth. Issues of abandonment, indeed!
The Frasers press onward. Observe, dear souls, how Jamie and Claire emanate pure bliss! They chop wood (no, not in any carnal sense)! They saw logs (ditto on the euphemism-free zone)! Jamie meticulously packs Claire's gunpowder during target practice (sorry, still no romantic undertones intended)! Claire, resplendent in trousers, assists in constructing their humble abode. Oh, those trousers, positively radiant! As Jamie carries Claire over the cabin's threshold, he shows her the layout, even fashioning her a quaint she-shed for her medical endeavors. We are most unworthy of this paragon of a man! He's oriented the bedroom to face the east, ensuring they greet each sunrise. A multitude of sunrises await, and who has the fortitude to awaken at such ungodly hours daily? Yet, isn't the gesture deeply romantic?
But behold, this is "Outlander," where nothing Jamie and Claire undertake escapes a tangle of complexities. In this particular chapter, their tranquility is disturbed by neighboring disputes. These neighbors happen to be the Cherokee, whose ancestral lands border theirs—a land that, undoubtedly, once belonged to them in its entirety, before the brutal English massacres and land seizures. However, who has the heart to delve into such sorrowful histories at this juncture? Certainly not "Outlander."
The Cherokee residing nearby make their displeasure at the Frasers' presence abundantly clear. Jamie, ever the peacemaker, yearns to foster harmony. He seeks counsel from the rugged woodsman, John Quincy Myers, on how best to present a gesture of goodwill to the Cherokee and to address a pressing bear issue that has them all on edge. Oh, did I omit mentioning the bear? A rogue bear has been raiding their provisions and mauling their horses, a menace even Myers is aware of—apparently, the Cherokee are petrified of it.
Myers's awareness deepens that very night when Jamie and Claire stumble upon him, severely mauled—a scene drenched in blood! Fed up with this beast terrorizing his family, the Cherokee, and his burly woodsman acquaintance, Jamie sets out to hunt it down and put an end to its reign of terror. BUT LISTEN CLOSELY: The bear is no beast but a man disguised in a bearskin and claws! Their confrontation turns brutal, yet Jamie ultimately triumphs by spearing him through, saving the forest and beyond. Devotees of the novels will recall that this scene diverges sharply from "Drums of Autumn." In Diana Gabaldon's tome, Jamie battles and vanquishes an actual bear! Come on, TV adaptation, we already know Jamie can best men—grant us the spectacle of him confronting a bear! It is only fitting.
Covered in mud, blood, and with his curly locks finally liberated from the confines of that tiny ponytail, Jamie drags the bear-man through the forest, depositing him at the Cherokee's feet. It transpires that this bear-man was expelled from his tribe for assaulting his wife. He went mad, wreaking havoc in the forest, yet, considered dead to them, they couldn't bring themselves to kill him. They are deeply grateful to Jamie, paving the way for potential peace and earning him the moniker "Bear Killer." A pretty badass nickname, indeed, but it only fuels my desire to witness Jamie battling an actual bear even more. GRANT US THE BEAR BATTLE, SHOW!
Amidst the unfolding narrative, another noteworthy development transpires: Claire encounters Adawehi (portrayed by Tantoo Cardinal), the esteemed healer of the Cherokee tribe. Their initial encounter lacks any hint of strangeness or foreboding! Instead, Adawehi calmly relates to Claire a dream she had, depicting Claire as a white raven who devours the moon, then lays an egg imbued with magical prowess in her hand. She further explains that death, dispatched by the gods, shall not be Claire's burden. How intriguing, enchanting, and eerily fascinating! Yet, far from terrifying! Thanks to Jamie's generous gesture, the rugged terrains of North Carolina begin to lose their tension, allowing the Frasers to diligently continue constructing their dream abode and nurturing their new life together. At least, for the time being.
However, any aspirations Jamie and Claire harbor for genuine tranquility in their New World sanctuary are poised to be disrupted by events unfolding in the 1970s. Roger, now back to teaching at Oxford, embodies the melancholic essence of the 1970s emo culture, wallowing in self-pity over his failed relationship with Brianna, all the while conveniently overlooking his own shortcomings. Oh, this fellow! While donning a turtleneck, he decides to peruse the "Scottish Settlers in North Carolina" tome that Bree gifted him during their ill-fated road trip. Lo and behold, he stumbles upon a fleeting reference to a locality known as Fraser's Ridge. With a bit more sleuthing, he unearths copies of the land grant signed by Jamie and a letter mentioning James Fraser and his spouse, Claire. At last! Tangible proof that Claire succeeded in her quest to reunite with the love of her life. Despite all that has transpired, Roger contacts Brianna in Boston—without so much as an apology—and shares the news with her. She is deeply grateful and overjoyed to learn of her mother's success in finding Jamie. They conclude their conversation and carry on with their respective lives, yet their expressions betray the undeniable truth—these two souls, still hopelessly ensnared in their mutual affection, harbor so much left unspoken!
Roger engages in a heartfelt conversation with Fiona back at their Inverness abode, where she reveals a startling piece of information that she has been privy to regarding the intricacies of time travel for quite some time. She proceeds to share some somber news, pulling out an obituary that her grandmother had unearthed while assisting Reverend Wakefield in his scholarly pursuits. It chronicles a tragic house fire in the remote backcountry of North Carolina, sometime in the 1770s – the precise date obscured by time's cruel hand. This catastrophic event claimed the lives of James and Claire Fraser.
Yet, this revelation pales in comparison to the impending bombshell! After much contemplation, Roger concludes that, despite his mother having technically passed away two centuries ago, withholding this information from Brianna would undoubtedly shatter what remains of her heart. Resolute in his decision, he dials her number only to be informed by her roommate, Gayle, that Brianna is not present. She has embarked on a journey to Scotland – to pay a visit to her mother.
