two doctor who recs: threads (four/romana i, t); and but broken lights (ten + rose, t)
“For now,” she reminded herself firmly, out loud. “Home, for now.”
Rose and the Doctor after The Age of Steel.
My Rave Review : Here's the thing, about being the Doctor's companion: as much as you might want to travel with him forever, it ain't going to happen. You'll die, or he'll regenerate, or you'll get trapped in a parallel universe, and sooner or later one or both of you will move on. It's one of the greatest tragedies, if you ask me, of the show's conceit; this fic is about how Rose comes to terms with that reality.
In the wake of leaving Mickey behind in Pete's World, mid-series two, the Doctor takes Rose on a bit of a holiday. They're both a bit burnt out, so they visit a seemingly abandoned planet that consists entirely of a rose-garden labyrinth for a breather. As this is Doctor Who, things, of course, go rather spectacularly go wrong. As they deal with the crisis, Rose and the Doctor are forced to face some hard truths about their relationship.
“Do you ever get used to feeling like this?”
He paused, weighing his answer. “I don’t know. I suppose some people must.”
“You’d think…I mean, after all that’s happened, you’d think I’d at least have learnt to expect it. Losing people. It’s just that…” She struggled for a moment, and then the words came. “There are things that are always there, you know? They’re sure and they’re constant and when everything around you’s going mad, you can point to them and you remember where you are. Like constellations. Like the North Star. And maybe,” her voice broke, and his fingers twined with hers, “and maybe you take them for granted a little, just thinking they’ll always be there. So when they’re gone, or you find out you never really had them at all…” She stopped, closing her eyes.
The Doctor cleared his throat softly. “Rose, how many places have you been where there will never be a North Star in the sky?”
“How many skies have I seen without you?” Rose asked. She held her breath for a moment, but he didn’t seem to have anything to say to that.
The writing is gorgeous - the author has a particularly sharp understanding of Rose's psyche - and there is a melancholy, harshly lovely quality to the whole story, especially in light of later developments in the story between the Doctor and Rose. Liberal application of one of my favourite poems - in Memoriam AHH, by Tennyson - in the chapter epigraphs just makes the whole thing that much more exquisitely heart-rending. I love, love, love how the dynamic between Ten and Rose is handled here: I just can't say enough about this fic.
Rose and the Doctor after The Age of Steel.
My Rave Review : Here's the thing, about being the Doctor's companion: as much as you might want to travel with him forever, it ain't going to happen. You'll die, or he'll regenerate, or you'll get trapped in a parallel universe, and sooner or later one or both of you will move on. It's one of the greatest tragedies, if you ask me, of the show's conceit; this fic is about how Rose comes to terms with that reality.
In the wake of leaving Mickey behind in Pete's World, mid-series two, the Doctor takes Rose on a bit of a holiday. They're both a bit burnt out, so they visit a seemingly abandoned planet that consists entirely of a rose-garden labyrinth for a breather. As this is Doctor Who, things, of course, go rather spectacularly go wrong. As they deal with the crisis, Rose and the Doctor are forced to face some hard truths about their relationship.
“Do you ever get used to feeling like this?”
He paused, weighing his answer. “I don’t know. I suppose some people must.”
“You’d think…I mean, after all that’s happened, you’d think I’d at least have learnt to expect it. Losing people. It’s just that…” She struggled for a moment, and then the words came. “There are things that are always there, you know? They’re sure and they’re constant and when everything around you’s going mad, you can point to them and you remember where you are. Like constellations. Like the North Star. And maybe,” her voice broke, and his fingers twined with hers, “and maybe you take them for granted a little, just thinking they’ll always be there. So when they’re gone, or you find out you never really had them at all…” She stopped, closing her eyes.
The Doctor cleared his throat softly. “Rose, how many places have you been where there will never be a North Star in the sky?”
“How many skies have I seen without you?” Rose asked. She held her breath for a moment, but he didn’t seem to have anything to say to that.
The writing is gorgeous - the author has a particularly sharp understanding of Rose's psyche - and there is a melancholy, harshly lovely quality to the whole story, especially in light of later developments in the story between the Doctor and Rose. Liberal application of one of my favourite poems - in Memoriam AHH, by Tennyson - in the chapter epigraphs just makes the whole thing that much more exquisitely heart-rending. I love, love, love how the dynamic between Ten and Rose is handled here: I just can't say enough about this fic.