Back at Lord John’s house, Jamie really thinks he’s being the bigger man when he patronizingly announces that he’s decided to forgive John, and they don’t have to ever speak of it again. (Side note: When/if you rewatch, please pay attention to the amazing head movement Caitríona Balfe does here. It says, “This again?/Are you insane?/Oy whatever is coming to you, you most certainly deserve it” without saying anything. Perfection.) John makes it clear that HE hasn’t forgiven Jamie for his “pigheaded treatment of me for the past two years,” and he stomps off into the next room.
Claire, for one, is done with all of her husband’s nonsense. “Look at me,” she demands. “Tell me you don’t love that man, and I’ll never say his name again.” Of course, she’s right. “Damnit, woman,” Jamie mutters, heading after John like a man going to the gallows.
“When you lay with Claire, you said you were both f**king me,” Jamie says, miliseconds after the two men are alone. In the words of Aaron Burr: OK, so we’re doing this! Jamie explains that what passed between John and Claire felt like a betrayal of his relationship with the Brit. “I never meant to hurt you, Jamie,” John says, still angry but more hurt now. “But you? You beat me to death for it.” Essentially, he wonders, are they even friends anymore?
“I have wronged you, John, and I am sorry,” Jamie says quietly, gravel in his voice and real shame on his face. GOOD. “You have done more for me than I could ever say.” He adds that he was moved by John and William’s clear love for each other at the boathouse. “You made him the man he is, and I ken well what you had to sacrifice to do it,” Jamie says, but John counters that raising Jamie’s son was no sacrifice. “He is the greatest gift of my life, and I thank you for him.” Then Jaime is thanking him back, and they’re both on the verge of tears, and I love these two so much.
Jamie wonders what more he can do to make things right; when John talks about his honor needing to be restored, Jamie assumes he’s about to get hit. But John wants to play chess, like they used to when Jamie was a prisoner at Ardsmuir Prison, so they sit down for a match.
Which is beautiful and a nice callback and all, guys, but, uh, no one wants to freshen up first? You’ve both just come out of a physically arduous imprisonment and a highly stressful recovery mission. You cannot smell good, even for ye olde pre-deodorant times. A little water splashed on your face, maybe, before you hunker down for a board game? Just a thought.
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