Doctor Who ficlet: Red Planet | Charley Pollard | G
Title: Red Planet
Author: rustydog
Fandom: Doctor Who (Big Finish)
Characters: Charley Pollard
Rating: G
Words: 518
Note: Written as commentfic for the bringthehappy 2009 Happyfest. If you're not familiar with Charley, all you really need to know is that she was a companion of the Eighth Doctor.
In the November in which Charlotte Pollard was eight years old, she let two gypsy children camp in the attic. If sneaking them into the house had been an adventure, following them out one night was right out of a storybook - and not the boring moral tales her mother, somewhat apologetically, gave her to read. She ran with the children through the dark fields, dew soaking her shoes, and imagined herself the hero of a Sir Walter Scott novel.
When they arrived at the gypsy camp, the children took Charley to their caravan, where an old man sat on a stool outside. He had colorful garments, a face creased like a dried apple, and dark eyes that sparkled in the firelight. "Is he a gypsy king?" she asked, wonderingly. The gypsy boy scoffed, but the girl squeezed Charley's hand. Was this man going to steal her, Charley wondered silently, and take her away to a life of chance and theivery? She squeezed the girl's hand back, thrilled.
But he only wanted to show them the stars. It was a special night, he said: the Red Planet was approaching fast. They followed the line he drew with his hand, halfway to the top of the sky. Charley looked for a bright red ruby glittering among the diamond points in the dark, but there was nothing so beautiful, just a star that appeared a little more orange and bright than the others. The old man's scarf and coat were more colorful.
Charley didn't understand much of what he was saying; his accent was strong, and his words were large and mysterious. She wanted to understand, because she knew it would be much more interesting than the books she read for her lessons at home. She listened with her whole heart. Finally, when the Red Planet had traveled a few steps across the sky, she realized it was time for her to run home, or the servants might hear her creeping back into the house.
But as she was saying farewell, the old man asked for her hand. Heart thumping wildly, she removed her mitten and held out her hand to him. Perhaps he would kiss it, or perhaps he would seize her now. But he merely tilted her palm toward the firelight and traced the creases of the skin, highlighted by flickering shadows. He whispered to himself as he studied and finally looked up at Charley's face with amazement.
"Short lifeline, child." He shook his head ominously. Charley held her breath.
"But you will fly among the stars. Very unusual," pronounced the the most unusual man Charley had ever met. He touched her forehead gently. "Very blessed."
*
Later that week, during a dreaded etiquette lesson, Charley's mind wandered (as it so often did) to the future. Someday she would meet people who wouldn't expect her to be proper - people like the gypsies, people who traveled to wild places full of danger, carrying their homes with them.... people who sat up at night and looked at the stars... people who dreamed of flying. Maybe even people who flew.
Author: rustydog
Fandom: Doctor Who (Big Finish)
Characters: Charley Pollard
Rating: G
Words: 518
Note: Written as commentfic for the bringthehappy 2009 Happyfest. If you're not familiar with Charley, all you really need to know is that she was a companion of the Eighth Doctor.
In the November in which Charlotte Pollard was eight years old, she let two gypsy children camp in the attic. If sneaking them into the house had been an adventure, following them out one night was right out of a storybook - and not the boring moral tales her mother, somewhat apologetically, gave her to read. She ran with the children through the dark fields, dew soaking her shoes, and imagined herself the hero of a Sir Walter Scott novel.
When they arrived at the gypsy camp, the children took Charley to their caravan, where an old man sat on a stool outside. He had colorful garments, a face creased like a dried apple, and dark eyes that sparkled in the firelight. "Is he a gypsy king?" she asked, wonderingly. The gypsy boy scoffed, but the girl squeezed Charley's hand. Was this man going to steal her, Charley wondered silently, and take her away to a life of chance and theivery? She squeezed the girl's hand back, thrilled.
But he only wanted to show them the stars. It was a special night, he said: the Red Planet was approaching fast. They followed the line he drew with his hand, halfway to the top of the sky. Charley looked for a bright red ruby glittering among the diamond points in the dark, but there was nothing so beautiful, just a star that appeared a little more orange and bright than the others. The old man's scarf and coat were more colorful.
Charley didn't understand much of what he was saying; his accent was strong, and his words were large and mysterious. She wanted to understand, because she knew it would be much more interesting than the books she read for her lessons at home. She listened with her whole heart. Finally, when the Red Planet had traveled a few steps across the sky, she realized it was time for her to run home, or the servants might hear her creeping back into the house.
But as she was saying farewell, the old man asked for her hand. Heart thumping wildly, she removed her mitten and held out her hand to him. Perhaps he would kiss it, or perhaps he would seize her now. But he merely tilted her palm toward the firelight and traced the creases of the skin, highlighted by flickering shadows. He whispered to himself as he studied and finally looked up at Charley's face with amazement.
"Short lifeline, child." He shook his head ominously. Charley held her breath.
"But you will fly among the stars. Very unusual," pronounced the the most unusual man Charley had ever met. He touched her forehead gently. "Very blessed."
*
Later that week, during a dreaded etiquette lesson, Charley's mind wandered (as it so often did) to the future. Someday she would meet people who wouldn't expect her to be proper - people like the gypsies, people who traveled to wild places full of danger, carrying their homes with them.... people who sat up at night and looked at the stars... people who dreamed of flying. Maybe even people who flew.