Torchwood fic: Dragon Suite I and II
This is the continuing story of a character introduced in Some Say in Ice, but this should make sense if you haven't read that.
Dragon Suite
Title: Migration (drabble)
Author: rustydog
Character: Myfanwy
Rating: G
Spoilers: Children of Earth
Note: Originally posted on tw100 for Challenge 127, Moving On
I.
Returning home after a night and day of fishing in the hills, Myfanwy approached the tower... but there was no tower. Only a pit and the smell of burning.
She flew around the city that night, searching for the scent of chocolate and her nestmates, but if they survived, they were hidden. Before dawn, she knew she needn't return.
When one home was lost, she would find another. She knew a white dragon living in the north. Like her, he had lost his first home through the crackling air, transported to this city. She could join him for the summer.
Title: Some Say in Fire
Author: rustydog
Characters: Jack Harkness, ice dragon
Rating: PG
Words: 1224
Spoilers: Children of Earth
Summary: Jack is ill and stranded alone in the wilderness. And something has moved him into a cave...
Note: Originally posted as commentfic in the bringthehappy 2009 Happyfest using the prompt "fever."
II.
It hadn't been Jack's idea to bail out over the Grampian Mountains, but that was what you got when you flew with a paranoid hypochondriac and started supposedly displaying symptoms of the latest pandemic illness. At least they'd given him a parachute, and he'd stuffed a bottle of water and a chocolate bar in his pockets before they unceremoniously shoved him out.
The funny thing was, he really was ill, and he'd known it long before his fellow travellers noticed - but it wasn't influenza. It felt like malaria, actually. And he had been so sure he would never get that again, dammit. Travelling across three continents in two weeks must be mucking with him.
He managed to pick himself up, fold the chute and wrap up the cords in case he needed them later. He stumbled to the top of the hill he'd landed on, but he didn't get much farther; he really felt terrible. His body ached, he was thirsty, and he couldn't stop shaking. It wasn't hot outside - he'd just been in equatorial South America, and there was no way Scotland's summer could compare with that. But he was burning up anyway.
And the midges were torture.
It wouldn't do to lie down, sick, on top of a bare mountain. The buzzards and ravens had probably smelt him already, and he didn't want to find out just how much he had in common with Prometheus. He wouldn't be so lucky as to have been pitched out near a well-travelled hiking area, so he couldn't count on being found. The best he could do was drag himself to a boulder a short distance down the rocky slope. He wrapped the parachute around himself and settled into a depression that might have once been the entrance to a fox den; it certainly smelled like it.
He woke once, the fever and delirium making him half sure he was back inside that volcano in Colombia. He thought he should remove his clothes in case contact with his skin made them catch fire. He was able to heave his body into a better position but only succeeded in pushing off the chute before he drifted back into unconsciousness.
When he drifted awake again, both the chute and his coat were gone and something large, smooth, and deliciously cold was circling him. He tried to look about, but in addition to his hammering headache and the white wall in front of him, there was a freezing mist that made it hard to see more than a foot in front of his face. Then the convulsions hit. Damn, he hated convulsions. It would be a relief when he finally slipped into a coma. The last thing he remembered was a part of the white wall detaching and nudging him gently, tucking him closer in to the main wall, then a blue-green canopy being pulled over the top of the wall, covering him.
When Jack finally awoke for the third time, he was lucid. The mist and the slippery white wall that had enclosed him were gone. He was not under the boulder, but in a cave.
How-?
The walls, floor, and ceiling of the cave were covered in a steaming layer of ice. He sat up carefully, trying not to slip, and took an inventory of his body. Head clear, energy high, stomach ravenous. His spleen felt like new. In a way, he supposed it was.
His stomach rumbled, and he remembered the chocolate bar in his coat pocket. His coat... he could see a gray heap near the mouth of the cave, where the ice glazing stopped and the sky beyond was a glare of white sun. He got gingerly to his feet and half-slid over to the heap, which turned out to be most definitely his coat, even if it smelled of... fox?
There was no chocolate in the pocket, however. As his eyes adjusted to the light, Jack scanned the slope outside the shadow of the cave. A glint attracted him: a piece of foil. Nearby, he discovered the shredded paper wrapper of the chocolate.
Would ravens eat chocolate? He didn't think so. And if his suspicions were correct, the resident of the cave wouldn't have let them near, anyway. He had only seen a coating of ice and a freezing mist like that once before, and they had been caused by a very large, very sensitive creature from far far away.
So the old boy hadn't gone back through the Rift after all. Jack smiled. As long as it wasn't bothering anyone and the climate suited him, the ice dragon could do what it liked. Quite a coincidence that it liked chocolate, though. Jack knew another large winged creature with a chocolate fetish, but she was gone now.
Well, it didn't matter who had taken the chocolate. He slipped on his coat and trekked out to search for water and food. Not far away, he found a moss that would do in a pinch, which this was. He choked down a few mouthfuls, stuffed his pockets with more, and headed back to the cave. (He never turned down free lodging, even if it was cold.)
Something had changed in his absence. Laid out on a flat rock at the mouth of the cave was a large salmon, glistening as though it had been caught very recently. Did dragons fish? Judging by the large bones and bits of wool nearby, they were fonder of sheep. As Jack stood there trying to decide if the salmon was a gift for him or a dragon-snack he could steal, a shadow passed over him, then another, slipping like a black eel over the rocks above his head.
He turned and tracked across the sky to the owners of the shadows - and laughed with delight. Streaking through the pale blue was the very same white, winged serpent he had bid farewell to on an autumn night in Cardiff, he was sure of it. Following following the dragon, screeching, dipping and somersaulting, was a pteranodon whose cry and silhouette he would know anywhere. As he watched, the two caught each other up, locked talons in the air, and continued to beat their wings, twirling upward in some kind of mad, loving dance.
Then the pteranodon broke off and headed straight for the cave - straight for Jack. She wouldn't have forgotten him, would she? Should he prepare to duck? -But she pulled up short, landed with a bounce a few yards from him, and strutted over, lowering her head and butting his chest with the front of her great beak. He suspected it was a way to sniff for more chocolate. But it didn't matter.
The great creature was making a strangled noise in her throat, then she opened her beak, and with a slapping sound on the rocks, another salmon landed at Jack's feet. The generous giver eyed him expectantly.
It was a shame, he thought, feeling ungrateful. -Of all the dragons in the universe - and there were quite a few if you knew where to look - he couldn't be stranded with one that breathed a nice, salmon-roasting fire?
But no, he wasn't going to be picky. It was a beautiful summer night in a beautiful place, and he would be feasting with old friends. What more could he ask?
Dragon Suite
Title: Migration (drabble)
Author: rustydog
Character: Myfanwy
Rating: G
Spoilers: Children of Earth
Note: Originally posted on tw100 for Challenge 127, Moving On
I.
Returning home after a night and day of fishing in the hills, Myfanwy approached the tower... but there was no tower. Only a pit and the smell of burning.
She flew around the city that night, searching for the scent of chocolate and her nestmates, but if they survived, they were hidden. Before dawn, she knew she needn't return.
When one home was lost, she would find another. She knew a white dragon living in the north. Like her, he had lost his first home through the crackling air, transported to this city. She could join him for the summer.
Title: Some Say in Fire
Author: rustydog
Characters: Jack Harkness, ice dragon
Rating: PG
Words: 1224
Spoilers: Children of Earth
Summary: Jack is ill and stranded alone in the wilderness. And something has moved him into a cave...
Note: Originally posted as commentfic in the bringthehappy 2009 Happyfest using the prompt "fever."
II.
It hadn't been Jack's idea to bail out over the Grampian Mountains, but that was what you got when you flew with a paranoid hypochondriac and started supposedly displaying symptoms of the latest pandemic illness. At least they'd given him a parachute, and he'd stuffed a bottle of water and a chocolate bar in his pockets before they unceremoniously shoved him out.
The funny thing was, he really was ill, and he'd known it long before his fellow travellers noticed - but it wasn't influenza. It felt like malaria, actually. And he had been so sure he would never get that again, dammit. Travelling across three continents in two weeks must be mucking with him.
He managed to pick himself up, fold the chute and wrap up the cords in case he needed them later. He stumbled to the top of the hill he'd landed on, but he didn't get much farther; he really felt terrible. His body ached, he was thirsty, and he couldn't stop shaking. It wasn't hot outside - he'd just been in equatorial South America, and there was no way Scotland's summer could compare with that. But he was burning up anyway.
And the midges were torture.
It wouldn't do to lie down, sick, on top of a bare mountain. The buzzards and ravens had probably smelt him already, and he didn't want to find out just how much he had in common with Prometheus. He wouldn't be so lucky as to have been pitched out near a well-travelled hiking area, so he couldn't count on being found. The best he could do was drag himself to a boulder a short distance down the rocky slope. He wrapped the parachute around himself and settled into a depression that might have once been the entrance to a fox den; it certainly smelled like it.
He woke once, the fever and delirium making him half sure he was back inside that volcano in Colombia. He thought he should remove his clothes in case contact with his skin made them catch fire. He was able to heave his body into a better position but only succeeded in pushing off the chute before he drifted back into unconsciousness.
When he drifted awake again, both the chute and his coat were gone and something large, smooth, and deliciously cold was circling him. He tried to look about, but in addition to his hammering headache and the white wall in front of him, there was a freezing mist that made it hard to see more than a foot in front of his face. Then the convulsions hit. Damn, he hated convulsions. It would be a relief when he finally slipped into a coma. The last thing he remembered was a part of the white wall detaching and nudging him gently, tucking him closer in to the main wall, then a blue-green canopy being pulled over the top of the wall, covering him.
When Jack finally awoke for the third time, he was lucid. The mist and the slippery white wall that had enclosed him were gone. He was not under the boulder, but in a cave.
How-?
The walls, floor, and ceiling of the cave were covered in a steaming layer of ice. He sat up carefully, trying not to slip, and took an inventory of his body. Head clear, energy high, stomach ravenous. His spleen felt like new. In a way, he supposed it was.
His stomach rumbled, and he remembered the chocolate bar in his coat pocket. His coat... he could see a gray heap near the mouth of the cave, where the ice glazing stopped and the sky beyond was a glare of white sun. He got gingerly to his feet and half-slid over to the heap, which turned out to be most definitely his coat, even if it smelled of... fox?
There was no chocolate in the pocket, however. As his eyes adjusted to the light, Jack scanned the slope outside the shadow of the cave. A glint attracted him: a piece of foil. Nearby, he discovered the shredded paper wrapper of the chocolate.
Would ravens eat chocolate? He didn't think so. And if his suspicions were correct, the resident of the cave wouldn't have let them near, anyway. He had only seen a coating of ice and a freezing mist like that once before, and they had been caused by a very large, very sensitive creature from far far away.
So the old boy hadn't gone back through the Rift after all. Jack smiled. As long as it wasn't bothering anyone and the climate suited him, the ice dragon could do what it liked. Quite a coincidence that it liked chocolate, though. Jack knew another large winged creature with a chocolate fetish, but she was gone now.
Well, it didn't matter who had taken the chocolate. He slipped on his coat and trekked out to search for water and food. Not far away, he found a moss that would do in a pinch, which this was. He choked down a few mouthfuls, stuffed his pockets with more, and headed back to the cave. (He never turned down free lodging, even if it was cold.)
Something had changed in his absence. Laid out on a flat rock at the mouth of the cave was a large salmon, glistening as though it had been caught very recently. Did dragons fish? Judging by the large bones and bits of wool nearby, they were fonder of sheep. As Jack stood there trying to decide if the salmon was a gift for him or a dragon-snack he could steal, a shadow passed over him, then another, slipping like a black eel over the rocks above his head.
He turned and tracked across the sky to the owners of the shadows - and laughed with delight. Streaking through the pale blue was the very same white, winged serpent he had bid farewell to on an autumn night in Cardiff, he was sure of it. Following following the dragon, screeching, dipping and somersaulting, was a pteranodon whose cry and silhouette he would know anywhere. As he watched, the two caught each other up, locked talons in the air, and continued to beat their wings, twirling upward in some kind of mad, loving dance.
Then the pteranodon broke off and headed straight for the cave - straight for Jack. She wouldn't have forgotten him, would she? Should he prepare to duck? -But she pulled up short, landed with a bounce a few yards from him, and strutted over, lowering her head and butting his chest with the front of her great beak. He suspected it was a way to sniff for more chocolate. But it didn't matter.
The great creature was making a strangled noise in her throat, then she opened her beak, and with a slapping sound on the rocks, another salmon landed at Jack's feet. The generous giver eyed him expectantly.
It was a shame, he thought, feeling ungrateful. -Of all the dragons in the universe - and there were quite a few if you knew where to look - he couldn't be stranded with one that breathed a nice, salmon-roasting fire?
But no, he wasn't going to be picky. It was a beautiful summer night in a beautiful place, and he would be feasting with old friends. What more could he ask?