If Fergus Were Your Husband

Is it February yet? Do not despair! What’s a few more months when our characters waited decades (or centuries) for each other?

Should we have some fun in the meantime? A few months ago the W Network ran a Twitter poll asking who would be the best Outlander boyfriend. Among the choices were Jamie, Roger, Lord John…..and Rollo.

Now, being a veterinarian everyone knows I love our four-legged companions and Rollo is very cute. I’m still unlikely, however, to choose the companionship of a wolf-dog hybrid over one of the many fine men in the Outlander universe. Among the most obvious omissions in choices…what about Fergus?

There’s a reason Marsali always looks like proverbial the cat that caught the canary— she landed herself a handsome, smart, and sensitive man. Which got my wheels turning about what a marriage to Fergus would actually look like.

Readers of the late, great website The Toast (RIP, sniff) know they had an ongoing column series “If X Were Your Y.” Among the best ones include, “If Prince Harry Were Your Boyfriend,” and “If Justin Bieber Were My Son.” So, along those lines, I present to you “If Fergus Were Your Husband.”

Note: I’m using television series Fergus as portrayed by César Domboy for this article since book Fergus and TV Fergus are slightly different creatures. Minor spoiler at the bottom.

If Fergus were your husband, he would give you a French nickname born of some embarrassing incident but rendered endearing after time. After a while you wouldn’t even remember how you got the name “Maladroite” (it’s from that time you dropped the whole tray of ale in the tavern)

If Fergus were your husband, you’d sometimes catch him making faces while drinking whisky. When he’d open up the bottle of wine later he’d shrug unapologetically as if to say, “I’m French.”

If Fergus were your husband, you would never feel nervous about approaching him with a big dream or crazy plan. He’d immediately see the genius in it and ask how to begin. “I was raised by people who tried to stop a war,” he might remind you.

If Fergus were your husband, you’d never get tired of his accent. And he’d never tire of yours.

If Fergus were your husband, he’d hide his wooden hand in random places all the time and chortle gleefully when you would jump upon finding it in the laundry pile.

If Fergus were your husband, he could teach you how to wear an infinity scarf without looking lame. And then you would both wear your scarves around the Colonies looking absolutely fabulous.

If Fergus were your husband, he would never engage in a Madonna-whore complex with you. After being raised in a brothel, he would know that women are capable of being both mothers and lovers.

Relatedly, if Fergus were your husband he would never shame you about enjoying sex. After spending his childhood surrounded by women forced to please others, he would understand that you are a sexual creature deserving of your own pleasure.

If Fergus were your husband he might occasionally ask that you call him “Claudel.” But after a few weeks he might ask that you start calling him Fergus again. “It just doesn’t feel right,” he would admit.

If Fergus were your husband, he would know all the best ways to use his one hand. All the best ways.

But he would also try to use his one-handedness as a convenient excuse. If Fergus were your husband, you might be inclined to throw a clout at his head and tell him it’s his turn with the baby, one hand or not.

If Fergus were your husband, you might catch him occasionally rolling his eyes at Fraser family antics. You’d see him discreetly excuse himself during an emotional outburst by one of the redheads.

If Fergus were your husband, you could feel safe in knowing that he understands that secure masculinity exists in an infinite number of ways. Disability, physical strength or stature, and profession do not define what makes a man.

If Fergus were your husband, he would understand what it means to be homesick and lonely. When you would feel down about missing your mother he would simply say, “I understand…I miss mine, too.”

Finally…Fergus were your husband, you might someday discover that there’s much more to his history than either one of you ever knew. To be continued (hopefully)…

Slàinte.

photos: STARZ, @laurenlyle7