Numinous (Doctor Who/Crossover To Be Revealed) Gen
Title: Numinous
Author: havocthecat
Fandoms: The Chronicles of Narnia/Doctor Who
Characters: Susan Pevensie, Amelia Pond
Pairings: None
Spoilers: The Last Battle, The Eleventh Hour, vague hints about the season arc
Word Count: 1441
Beta: lyssie
Summary: It's been three years and two psychiatrists (five sessions into this one, and no problems yet) since Amelia met the Raggedy Doctor, and she's been packed off for the winter holidays.
***
Amelia Pond hadn't any parents, but she had an aunt and a grandmother. She also had a psychiatrist. After her fifth trip to her second one, all of which had been very carefully counted on the calendar, the winter holidays came, and Amelia's aunt shipped her off to her grandmother in Scotland. Grandmum's house was old, and full of furniture, and boring to anyone under the age of ninety.
Grandmum was as rich as the devil, Auntie said, and hired private nurses. She didn't want to be in a home, Auntie said, and she could afford it, after having a wildly successful career as an entertainer a long time ago, and marrying a rich Scotsman. Since the rich Scotsman was Amelia's grandpa, she was inclined to like him, even if he was dead.
There wasn't much to her introduction to the house. A driver picked her up from the train station, and Grandmum studied Amelia when she got there, shook her head, and gave her free rein of the place. Not that there was much in it. It was a big, dark, stuffy old house, with heavy curtains that no one bothered to open. The walls were covered with dusty old photos in faded black and white. There wasn't anything from her days as a singer, and almost nothing in color. Just old, old photos of people Amelia didn't know, and Grandmum wouldn't answer when she asked. The youngest girl in the photos looked a little like Amelia, she thought, on her first walk round the house.
There was a housekeeper, who mostly left Amelia alone, and Grandmum, who insisted that Amelia read to her every night before bed. Otherwise, she was left to herself with the telly and the computer, which was on dial-up still. There wasn't much to do on dial-up internet, especially not when the computer desk was real wood, and polished with something that smelled like lemons and made Amelia sneeze. She couldn't even hide out in her room a lot. Half of it was taken up by a great big bloody wardrobe.
Most of the clothing inside of it smelled like mothballs. They were old and funny-looking, and Amelia recognized at least half of them from the pictures on the wall. The rest were probably from Grandmum Susan's stage performances. Amelia dug through all of them, looking for something she could wear about the house during a blizzard, when the winds were howling
Buried in the back were two dresses, though, that looked different. One was the color of spring leaves, and the other was like the sky just before a storm. When Amelia pulled them out of the wardrobe, the whole room smelled like spring, with flowers and a babbling brook, and she could even hear the wind rustling through the leaves.
Amelia ran to the window and shoved the draperies aside. The panes were rimed with frost, and the bare branches clattered against the window. She let them fall back into place. The house still smelled like heather and lilac, like roses were strewn down on the carpet, and she could swear that a brook was rushing right past them. She took the dresses over to the bed and sat down, smoothing the soft wool under her fingers. The smaller one might fit her, if she wanted to try it on.
Grandmum walked with a cane, and it was thumping down the hallway, toward Amelia's room. She could picture Grandmum, her back straight and her movement stiff. When she opened the door, her hair was streaming down her back, even though Grandmum always kept it up, and her eyes were bright with tears.
"Where did you find those?" she asked. Grandmum's voice was almost as sharp as Auntie's always was, but she seemed so sad that Amelia frowned.
Amelia tried to wait Grandmum out, but Grandmum was made of sterner stuff than either of her psychiatrists, because it didn't work. She just stood in the doorway and waited.
"Back of the wardrobe," said Amelia, shrugging as she gave up. She held the green dress in front of her. "They're gorgeous. Where'd you get them?"
"A long time ago," said Grandmum. She moved into the room, every step measured and even, and settled on the bed with deliberate care. When she got next to Amelia, she nodded, deciding something that she wasn't about to share with Amelia.
"I didn't ask when you got them, Grandmum," said Amelia. She rolled her eyes, scornful as she was with Auntie.
The only reaction from Grandmum was a laugh. Auntie wouldn't have laughed. She'd more likely have sent Amelia off to bed without supper. Grandmum patted Amelia's knee, that was all.
"What?" asked Amelia. "Come on, you're supposed to be the grown-up. Grown-ups don't laugh at little girls."
"You sound just like my sister did the first time we were in--" Grandmum stopped talking, closed her eyes, and bowed her head. "You know, no one's ever found those dresses. Not since I was a girl. They were lost a long time ago."
"They look older than that." Amelia wrinkled her nose. She hadn't even known Grandmum had a sister. "But they smell pretty. Not like the rest of the clothes in there."
"They're from another world," said Grandmum. Her eyes were sharp, and Amelia felt like a tiny little bug under a microscope. "But you already thought of that, didn't you?"
Amelia fidgeted for a couple of minutes while she thought about telling the truth. Grandmum was different from the psychiatrists or Auntie. There was only one person Grandmum reminded Amelia of, even a little. When Grandmum fixed her with another sharp look, Amelia cracked worse than the hole that used to be in her wall.
"It's kinda obvious," admitted Amelia. "Grandmum, did you ever go through the crack in my wall?"
"How could I manage to do that?" asked Grandmum. She had a kind, gentle smile, Amelia noticed, as kind as the Raggedy Doctor, and just as sad.
"Oh." Amelia frowned. "Right." They'd always had the house, but Grandmum had never been in it. Refused to go in it, as a matter of fact, and Auntie hated that. Grandmum had never once gone to Leadworth, even if she was English. Amelia figured that if a Scottish girl could live in England, why couldn't an English woman who lived in Scotland come to visit? She hadn't even come once, and said the whole place felt off. How did an entire town feel off? "How did you go to another world?"
Grandmum nodded at the wardrobe, then gave Amelia an expectant look.
"Through that?" asked Amelia. She looked back and forth between Grandmum and the wardrobe. "But it's the same size inside and out." There weren't any swimming pools either. Or libraries. Or libraries with swimming pools.
"Really? How did the dresses get in there, do you think?" Grandmum looked at the wardrobe like she was trying to decide if she wanted to ground it. "Regardless, it's rather rude of the wardrobe. It used to be much, much bigger on the inside than it looked."
Amelia giggled, grinning brighter than she had in three years and two psychiatrists. "What was it like in there?"
"There was a whole world there, called Narnia, though for a long time, I didn't believe it had been there." Grandmum leaned over and gave Amelia a wink. "I'll tell you all about it, if you tell me about this Raggedy Doctor of yours. Do we have a deal?"
Even having the room smell like an entire springtime world that Amelia didn't belong to couldn't stop the chill that knifed through her heart. She drew back, her eyes narrowed. "What did Auntie tell you?" asked Amelia. "You're not going to get me to admit he isn't real, because he is. It's true! I won't let you tell me it's not."
"I'm not asking you to," said Grandmum. She looked happy. Probably happier than she'd been all winter, or maybe ever. "It's been a very long time since I've met someone who's been even close to another world. It's you who'd be doing me the favor."
"Oh." That didn't make sense, but at least Grandmum believed her. "Who goes first?"
"You, I think," said Grandmum. She pushed herself up slower than she'd sat down, and motioned for Amelia to stand up too. "But not until we have tea and biscuits. I think this calls for them, don't you?"
Amelia didn't even think about it, not this time. She hopped to her feet with a wide grin, the blue dress still in her arms. "Deal."
--end--
Author: havocthecat
Fandoms: The Chronicles of Narnia/Doctor Who
Characters: Susan Pevensie, Amelia Pond
Pairings: None
Spoilers: The Last Battle, The Eleventh Hour, vague hints about the season arc
Word Count: 1441
Beta: lyssie
Summary: It's been three years and two psychiatrists (five sessions into this one, and no problems yet) since Amelia met the Raggedy Doctor, and she's been packed off for the winter holidays.
***
Amelia Pond hadn't any parents, but she had an aunt and a grandmother. She also had a psychiatrist. After her fifth trip to her second one, all of which had been very carefully counted on the calendar, the winter holidays came, and Amelia's aunt shipped her off to her grandmother in Scotland. Grandmum's house was old, and full of furniture, and boring to anyone under the age of ninety.
Grandmum was as rich as the devil, Auntie said, and hired private nurses. She didn't want to be in a home, Auntie said, and she could afford it, after having a wildly successful career as an entertainer a long time ago, and marrying a rich Scotsman. Since the rich Scotsman was Amelia's grandpa, she was inclined to like him, even if he was dead.
There wasn't much to her introduction to the house. A driver picked her up from the train station, and Grandmum studied Amelia when she got there, shook her head, and gave her free rein of the place. Not that there was much in it. It was a big, dark, stuffy old house, with heavy curtains that no one bothered to open. The walls were covered with dusty old photos in faded black and white. There wasn't anything from her days as a singer, and almost nothing in color. Just old, old photos of people Amelia didn't know, and Grandmum wouldn't answer when she asked. The youngest girl in the photos looked a little like Amelia, she thought, on her first walk round the house.
There was a housekeeper, who mostly left Amelia alone, and Grandmum, who insisted that Amelia read to her every night before bed. Otherwise, she was left to herself with the telly and the computer, which was on dial-up still. There wasn't much to do on dial-up internet, especially not when the computer desk was real wood, and polished with something that smelled like lemons and made Amelia sneeze. She couldn't even hide out in her room a lot. Half of it was taken up by a great big bloody wardrobe.
Most of the clothing inside of it smelled like mothballs. They were old and funny-looking, and Amelia recognized at least half of them from the pictures on the wall. The rest were probably from Grandmum Susan's stage performances. Amelia dug through all of them, looking for something she could wear about the house during a blizzard, when the winds were howling
Buried in the back were two dresses, though, that looked different. One was the color of spring leaves, and the other was like the sky just before a storm. When Amelia pulled them out of the wardrobe, the whole room smelled like spring, with flowers and a babbling brook, and she could even hear the wind rustling through the leaves.
Amelia ran to the window and shoved the draperies aside. The panes were rimed with frost, and the bare branches clattered against the window. She let them fall back into place. The house still smelled like heather and lilac, like roses were strewn down on the carpet, and she could swear that a brook was rushing right past them. She took the dresses over to the bed and sat down, smoothing the soft wool under her fingers. The smaller one might fit her, if she wanted to try it on.
Grandmum walked with a cane, and it was thumping down the hallway, toward Amelia's room. She could picture Grandmum, her back straight and her movement stiff. When she opened the door, her hair was streaming down her back, even though Grandmum always kept it up, and her eyes were bright with tears.
"Where did you find those?" she asked. Grandmum's voice was almost as sharp as Auntie's always was, but she seemed so sad that Amelia frowned.
Amelia tried to wait Grandmum out, but Grandmum was made of sterner stuff than either of her psychiatrists, because it didn't work. She just stood in the doorway and waited.
"Back of the wardrobe," said Amelia, shrugging as she gave up. She held the green dress in front of her. "They're gorgeous. Where'd you get them?"
"A long time ago," said Grandmum. She moved into the room, every step measured and even, and settled on the bed with deliberate care. When she got next to Amelia, she nodded, deciding something that she wasn't about to share with Amelia.
"I didn't ask when you got them, Grandmum," said Amelia. She rolled her eyes, scornful as she was with Auntie.
The only reaction from Grandmum was a laugh. Auntie wouldn't have laughed. She'd more likely have sent Amelia off to bed without supper. Grandmum patted Amelia's knee, that was all.
"What?" asked Amelia. "Come on, you're supposed to be the grown-up. Grown-ups don't laugh at little girls."
"You sound just like my sister did the first time we were in--" Grandmum stopped talking, closed her eyes, and bowed her head. "You know, no one's ever found those dresses. Not since I was a girl. They were lost a long time ago."
"They look older than that." Amelia wrinkled her nose. She hadn't even known Grandmum had a sister. "But they smell pretty. Not like the rest of the clothes in there."
"They're from another world," said Grandmum. Her eyes were sharp, and Amelia felt like a tiny little bug under a microscope. "But you already thought of that, didn't you?"
Amelia fidgeted for a couple of minutes while she thought about telling the truth. Grandmum was different from the psychiatrists or Auntie. There was only one person Grandmum reminded Amelia of, even a little. When Grandmum fixed her with another sharp look, Amelia cracked worse than the hole that used to be in her wall.
"It's kinda obvious," admitted Amelia. "Grandmum, did you ever go through the crack in my wall?"
"How could I manage to do that?" asked Grandmum. She had a kind, gentle smile, Amelia noticed, as kind as the Raggedy Doctor, and just as sad.
"Oh." Amelia frowned. "Right." They'd always had the house, but Grandmum had never been in it. Refused to go in it, as a matter of fact, and Auntie hated that. Grandmum had never once gone to Leadworth, even if she was English. Amelia figured that if a Scottish girl could live in England, why couldn't an English woman who lived in Scotland come to visit? She hadn't even come once, and said the whole place felt off. How did an entire town feel off? "How did you go to another world?"
Grandmum nodded at the wardrobe, then gave Amelia an expectant look.
"Through that?" asked Amelia. She looked back and forth between Grandmum and the wardrobe. "But it's the same size inside and out." There weren't any swimming pools either. Or libraries. Or libraries with swimming pools.
"Really? How did the dresses get in there, do you think?" Grandmum looked at the wardrobe like she was trying to decide if she wanted to ground it. "Regardless, it's rather rude of the wardrobe. It used to be much, much bigger on the inside than it looked."
Amelia giggled, grinning brighter than she had in three years and two psychiatrists. "What was it like in there?"
"There was a whole world there, called Narnia, though for a long time, I didn't believe it had been there." Grandmum leaned over and gave Amelia a wink. "I'll tell you all about it, if you tell me about this Raggedy Doctor of yours. Do we have a deal?"
Even having the room smell like an entire springtime world that Amelia didn't belong to couldn't stop the chill that knifed through her heart. She drew back, her eyes narrowed. "What did Auntie tell you?" asked Amelia. "You're not going to get me to admit he isn't real, because he is. It's true! I won't let you tell me it's not."
"I'm not asking you to," said Grandmum. She looked happy. Probably happier than she'd been all winter, or maybe ever. "It's been a very long time since I've met someone who's been even close to another world. It's you who'd be doing me the favor."
"Oh." That didn't make sense, but at least Grandmum believed her. "Who goes first?"
"You, I think," said Grandmum. She pushed herself up slower than she'd sat down, and motioned for Amelia to stand up too. "But not until we have tea and biscuits. I think this calls for them, don't you?"
Amelia didn't even think about it, not this time. She hopped to her feet with a wide grin, the blue dress still in her arms. "Deal."
--end--