Gravity (1/1)
Title: Gravity (1/1)
Rating: All Ages
Characters/Pairings: Rose (implied Ten II/Rose, Ten)
Word Count: 986
Summary: One man her lover, the other her best friend-how can Rose tell the difference?
A/N: Written for Round 2.02 of writerinatardis . The prompt was: "The difference between the almost right word and the right word is really a large matter -- 'tis the difference between the lightning bug and the lightning." --Mark Twain
The planet Gravity, ironically, has rather less gravity than most of the planets that Rose and the two Doctors visit. There's trouble, of course-a virus deadly to the native Gravitians, introduced by careless off-world tourists, and the technology of the TARDIS is required to formulate a vaccine. Rose is left to oversee its administration while the Doctors travel to the seat of the local galactic government to petition for protected status.
The nameless god of Gravity is everywhere. A noncorporeal telepathic being, it has an intimate relationship with the forest-dwelling Gravitians. It has certainly lived far, far longer than the Doctor-has seen even the creation of its own world, drawn together from dust and gas by the very force that gave the planet its name. It seeks Rose out, and she finds that she doesn't mind. She is novel to it, as are the Doctors, and it is fascinated. The feeling is mutual. From the Gravitians, she learns of the distillation that they drink to commune with their god, to ask questions and receive answers.
And she does have questions. Tiny, petty, human questions that consume her nonetheless.
The night on Gravity is very dark. Stars are sparse in this quadrant and the planet has no moon. She carries by its thick stem a large flower that produces its own soft light, and a flask containing the sticky-sweet potion to a flat rock in the midst of an open field. The rock is cold, though the air is warm and moist. The percentage of oxygen in the air exceeds that of Earth and it makes her feel like she herself could burst in to bloom at any moment. She tips her head back and swallows the brew.
The effect is nearly instantaneous. She feels the presence of the god more keenly than she had before. It is pleased that she has decided to take the step of deeper connection, and she feels it waiting.
"I... I don't know what to call you..." she says, and she doesn't know what to expect. A booming voice? A white-haired man, or a beam of light?
None of those things happen. There is no voice, no manifestation, no light show at all. But there is a warm breeze, which tickles her skin and makes her hairs stand on end. It washes over her, and is not blowing from one direction, but rather all directions. She sighs, and does not feel at all silly addressing her questions simply to the black of the night. She knows without a doubt that this ancient being is there, listening.
"Please... if you've seen into their minds as well, please tell me what it is that I've done wrong. With him." She shudders as she asks, and feels perhaps this is a violation of the accidental but sacred vow of unasked questions and ungiven answers that exists between her and the Time Lord. "I shouldn't be greedy, I know I shouldn't. The human Doctor, he couldn't be more wonderful. It's like my dreams all came true with him, but... the other. I can't help it, I still love him. But he won't hear of it. He pushes me away. He tried to get rid of us, dump us off together, but... how could we let him go off alone again?"
The wind turns more into little eddies flowing over her skin. She feels the god reaching into her mind, touching her memories, soothing her hurts. Two Doctors should have been more than she could have ever wanted or hoped for. Having the human Doctor as her lover and the Time Lord as her best friend, travelling together through time and space, it had been fantastic. Then this pain snuck up on her when she wasn't looking, and now that it has arrived, like a terrible houseguest, it won't leave her alone. The nagging turned into aching and the aching to stabbing, and the dark circles under her eyes have begun to be noticed by both of the men she lives with. But how can she tell them that, after all they'd given her, it still wasn't enough? It's horrid, her greed and selfishness, and she knows it.
"They're the same man, so why do they treat me so differently? Am I wrong to want them both in the same way?"
She stares out in to the blackness, feels the wind withdraw all at once. She is afraid that her question has revealed how unworthy she is to be in the god’s presence.
Suddenly the landscape lights up with a blue flash of lightning, and the hair on her arm registers the static in the air. Several more bolts come down from above, shooting from one side of the horizon to the other. She somehow knows that the lightning is the Doctor, the Time Lord, the Oncoming Storm who hides the peril that comes with knowing him behind a beautiful smile.
The lightening ceases, as quickly as it had started, and it takes a moment for her eyes to readjust to the darkness. Now there arises a humming, buzzing sound in the air-an organic sound, not like the hum of invisible forces, but the buzz of little beating wings, coming closer.
The air around her comes alive with luminescent insects, like lightning bugs. They flash in unison, a cold blue light, arcing across her field of vision: lightning caught in a tiny insect, that same force made small. The god of Gravity is showing her the human Doctor.
The lightning and the firefly, and she is lucky to experience both, in their own ways and on their own terms. One is wild and untameable, the other is delicate, capable of being caught in a jam jar. One Doctor burns all who touch him, while the other will light the darkness for her, as long as he lives. It is only for her to know the difference.
Rating: All Ages
Characters/Pairings: Rose (implied Ten II/Rose, Ten)
Word Count: 986
Summary: One man her lover, the other her best friend-how can Rose tell the difference?
A/N: Written for Round 2.02 of writerinatardis . The prompt was: "The difference between the almost right word and the right word is really a large matter -- 'tis the difference between the lightning bug and the lightning." --Mark Twain
The planet Gravity, ironically, has rather less gravity than most of the planets that Rose and the two Doctors visit. There's trouble, of course-a virus deadly to the native Gravitians, introduced by careless off-world tourists, and the technology of the TARDIS is required to formulate a vaccine. Rose is left to oversee its administration while the Doctors travel to the seat of the local galactic government to petition for protected status.
The nameless god of Gravity is everywhere. A noncorporeal telepathic being, it has an intimate relationship with the forest-dwelling Gravitians. It has certainly lived far, far longer than the Doctor-has seen even the creation of its own world, drawn together from dust and gas by the very force that gave the planet its name. It seeks Rose out, and she finds that she doesn't mind. She is novel to it, as are the Doctors, and it is fascinated. The feeling is mutual. From the Gravitians, she learns of the distillation that they drink to commune with their god, to ask questions and receive answers.
And she does have questions. Tiny, petty, human questions that consume her nonetheless.
The night on Gravity is very dark. Stars are sparse in this quadrant and the planet has no moon. She carries by its thick stem a large flower that produces its own soft light, and a flask containing the sticky-sweet potion to a flat rock in the midst of an open field. The rock is cold, though the air is warm and moist. The percentage of oxygen in the air exceeds that of Earth and it makes her feel like she herself could burst in to bloom at any moment. She tips her head back and swallows the brew.
The effect is nearly instantaneous. She feels the presence of the god more keenly than she had before. It is pleased that she has decided to take the step of deeper connection, and she feels it waiting.
"I... I don't know what to call you..." she says, and she doesn't know what to expect. A booming voice? A white-haired man, or a beam of light?
None of those things happen. There is no voice, no manifestation, no light show at all. But there is a warm breeze, which tickles her skin and makes her hairs stand on end. It washes over her, and is not blowing from one direction, but rather all directions. She sighs, and does not feel at all silly addressing her questions simply to the black of the night. She knows without a doubt that this ancient being is there, listening.
"Please... if you've seen into their minds as well, please tell me what it is that I've done wrong. With him." She shudders as she asks, and feels perhaps this is a violation of the accidental but sacred vow of unasked questions and ungiven answers that exists between her and the Time Lord. "I shouldn't be greedy, I know I shouldn't. The human Doctor, he couldn't be more wonderful. It's like my dreams all came true with him, but... the other. I can't help it, I still love him. But he won't hear of it. He pushes me away. He tried to get rid of us, dump us off together, but... how could we let him go off alone again?"
The wind turns more into little eddies flowing over her skin. She feels the god reaching into her mind, touching her memories, soothing her hurts. Two Doctors should have been more than she could have ever wanted or hoped for. Having the human Doctor as her lover and the Time Lord as her best friend, travelling together through time and space, it had been fantastic. Then this pain snuck up on her when she wasn't looking, and now that it has arrived, like a terrible houseguest, it won't leave her alone. The nagging turned into aching and the aching to stabbing, and the dark circles under her eyes have begun to be noticed by both of the men she lives with. But how can she tell them that, after all they'd given her, it still wasn't enough? It's horrid, her greed and selfishness, and she knows it.
"They're the same man, so why do they treat me so differently? Am I wrong to want them both in the same way?"
She stares out in to the blackness, feels the wind withdraw all at once. She is afraid that her question has revealed how unworthy she is to be in the god’s presence.
Suddenly the landscape lights up with a blue flash of lightning, and the hair on her arm registers the static in the air. Several more bolts come down from above, shooting from one side of the horizon to the other. She somehow knows that the lightning is the Doctor, the Time Lord, the Oncoming Storm who hides the peril that comes with knowing him behind a beautiful smile.
The lightening ceases, as quickly as it had started, and it takes a moment for her eyes to readjust to the darkness. Now there arises a humming, buzzing sound in the air-an organic sound, not like the hum of invisible forces, but the buzz of little beating wings, coming closer.
The air around her comes alive with luminescent insects, like lightning bugs. They flash in unison, a cold blue light, arcing across her field of vision: lightning caught in a tiny insect, that same force made small. The god of Gravity is showing her the human Doctor.
The lightning and the firefly, and she is lucky to experience both, in their own ways and on their own terms. One is wild and untameable, the other is delicate, capable of being caught in a jam jar. One Doctor burns all who touch him, while the other will light the darkness for her, as long as he lives. It is only for her to know the difference.