Doctor Who: "Too Many Words" by roadstergal
Title: Too Many Words
Author: roadstergal
Fandom: Doctor Who
Pairing/characters: Romana II/Leela
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: They do not belong to me, and I make no money off of them.
Prompt: 279. Doctor Who: Romana/Leela. Sex and sexuality among the Time Lords.
Summary: Leela never did like how much the Time Lords talked.
Author's Notes: This is based on the storyline of the Gallifrey radio plays. Andred is dead, Romana is deposed, and Leela is blind (though still her bodyguard).
It was not a surprise to Leela; it was more of a disappointment. No, that was too strong a word. A confirmation. She had always known that Time Lords used too many words, words that were too long, words that were too clinical. The 'gift' of tongues that the Time Lords posessed (which Romana had tried to explain to her in words that were, of course, too long, too clinical) was mostly a sharing of the mind-pictures of words; it showed Leela that the minds of Time Lords were as clean and featureless as their arcihtecture, their thoughts as tasteless as the air on their planet.
There were exceptions, of course. Andred had a dark fire in his thoughts; he had been a man of directness, a man of action. Leela had felt that fire, and it had warmed her. She had hoped, some day, that they would travel; she would show him places of strangeness and mystery and danger that he would appreciate in a way none of the other Time Lords would. But - no matter; he was gone.
And Romana was here. Romana, who cared for Leela, and tried so hard to make Leela understand things that were competely alien. Romana, with her strange words that tasted odd on Leela's tongue.
There was no word in the Sevateem language for "lesbian." The word tasted strange to Leela. It tasted of boundaries and fear, of rigid walls. Perhaps it was just the way Romana had taught her to pronounce it - but still, what use was that word? "Sex" was a perfectly good word, and one that danced in Leela's mouth - it tasted like bodies, warm against each other, like sweat and pleasure and joy.
Leela had first heard that strange word the first time she had come to Romana's bed. It had seemed natural, after all. Romana had brought Leela to the planet of pleasure, the - holiday? Some kind of retreat for the purpose of pleasure and relaxation. And what is more
pleasurable and relaxing than sex?
But Romana had shied away, and instead of saying that she was uninterested or unattracted, ideas Leela understood - she had used that word. I am not one. And Leela, confused, had left.
What was it, Leela pondered, with Time Lords and their need to categorize? To make everything so stratified, so codified, so complicated? No matter how great their works, how accomplished their science, how marvelous their buildings and their weapons - could it truly be worth this distancing from their own selves, this parsing of their own desires and emotions?
Even the Doctor, the Time Lord who Leela felt was the most in tune with himself, had his own strange internal maze. He had scratched his head and frowned at Leela when she had proposed sex - neither of them, after all, had coupled in months, and it simply was not healthy, was it?
It was certainly not healthy for Romana. Fighting Pandora and losing her position as President had been a significant mental stress, and Leela could see - yes, she could see some things without her now-dead eyes - that Romana had no outlet, no confidant, no place of temporary safety in another's arms.
Not until she came to Leela's bed, finally. There is no need for sight in the dark; Leela saw every fine strand of golden hair with her fingers, traced every gentle curve of Romana's body, tasted the smoky delights, and brought her dear friend to shuddering release, over and over, until Romana was spent.
Then held her, bemused, as the woman cried, silent sobs that shook her body. "We can't - we can't."
"Can't" was one of those Time Lord words that never tasted good in Leela's mouth. But even though she did not understand, she held Romana close, telling her - and Leela had no taste for lies - that it was good, it was right.
For it was.
Author: roadstergal
Fandom: Doctor Who
Pairing/characters: Romana II/Leela
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: They do not belong to me, and I make no money off of them.
Prompt: 279. Doctor Who: Romana/Leela. Sex and sexuality among the Time Lords.
Summary: Leela never did like how much the Time Lords talked.
Author's Notes: This is based on the storyline of the Gallifrey radio plays. Andred is dead, Romana is deposed, and Leela is blind (though still her bodyguard).
It was not a surprise to Leela; it was more of a disappointment. No, that was too strong a word. A confirmation. She had always known that Time Lords used too many words, words that were too long, words that were too clinical. The 'gift' of tongues that the Time Lords posessed (which Romana had tried to explain to her in words that were, of course, too long, too clinical) was mostly a sharing of the mind-pictures of words; it showed Leela that the minds of Time Lords were as clean and featureless as their arcihtecture, their thoughts as tasteless as the air on their planet.
There were exceptions, of course. Andred had a dark fire in his thoughts; he had been a man of directness, a man of action. Leela had felt that fire, and it had warmed her. She had hoped, some day, that they would travel; she would show him places of strangeness and mystery and danger that he would appreciate in a way none of the other Time Lords would. But - no matter; he was gone.
And Romana was here. Romana, who cared for Leela, and tried so hard to make Leela understand things that were competely alien. Romana, with her strange words that tasted odd on Leela's tongue.
There was no word in the Sevateem language for "lesbian." The word tasted strange to Leela. It tasted of boundaries and fear, of rigid walls. Perhaps it was just the way Romana had taught her to pronounce it - but still, what use was that word? "Sex" was a perfectly good word, and one that danced in Leela's mouth - it tasted like bodies, warm against each other, like sweat and pleasure and joy.
Leela had first heard that strange word the first time she had come to Romana's bed. It had seemed natural, after all. Romana had brought Leela to the planet of pleasure, the - holiday? Some kind of retreat for the purpose of pleasure and relaxation. And what is more
pleasurable and relaxing than sex?
But Romana had shied away, and instead of saying that she was uninterested or unattracted, ideas Leela understood - she had used that word. I am not one. And Leela, confused, had left.
What was it, Leela pondered, with Time Lords and their need to categorize? To make everything so stratified, so codified, so complicated? No matter how great their works, how accomplished their science, how marvelous their buildings and their weapons - could it truly be worth this distancing from their own selves, this parsing of their own desires and emotions?
Even the Doctor, the Time Lord who Leela felt was the most in tune with himself, had his own strange internal maze. He had scratched his head and frowned at Leela when she had proposed sex - neither of them, after all, had coupled in months, and it simply was not healthy, was it?
It was certainly not healthy for Romana. Fighting Pandora and losing her position as President had been a significant mental stress, and Leela could see - yes, she could see some things without her now-dead eyes - that Romana had no outlet, no confidant, no place of temporary safety in another's arms.
Not until she came to Leela's bed, finally. There is no need for sight in the dark; Leela saw every fine strand of golden hair with her fingers, traced every gentle curve of Romana's body, tasted the smoky delights, and brought her dear friend to shuddering release, over and over, until Romana was spent.
Then held her, bemused, as the woman cried, silent sobs that shook her body. "We can't - we can't."
"Can't" was one of those Time Lord words that never tasted good in Leela's mouth. But even though she did not understand, she held Romana close, telling her - and Leela had no taste for lies - that it was good, it was right.
For it was.