Altered History: Echoes on Ood Sphere (6/7)
Title: Altered History: Echos on Oodsphere
Genre: Doctor Who
Rating: T (violence, angst-ridden Doctor)
Author: tkel_paris
Summary: On another major journey the Doctor and Donna land on a planet of beings aware of him, but he doesn't know them. The danger compells him to reveal more about the past he is still fighting against, how he fears the Moment is still haunting him. And Donna sees reason to share his worries.
Disclaimer: Imagine what might have been had the Movie turned into a series as originally intended. What else would have been? So... clearly not mine. Still.
Dedication: cassikat, who kept pressing me to write more of this series. Thanks to Camp NaNoWriMo, I got started on this story when the others stalled hard. Although it took me a while to get cranking on it again.
Author's Notes: Now the series starts providing more answers about the differences the Eighth Doctor's still being alive has caused, and the effects they have. And it's clearly leading toward more. And please, go back and read the first two stories, The Runaway Bride and Prophecies and Pompeii, before reading this one.
I suppose it's worth mentioning that some of the lines in the first chapter were influenced by both the Big Finish audio “Max Warp” and the BBC documentary “The Petrol Age”. The former is an Eight and Lucie adventure set on a space station in the future, and involves both spaceships and a mystery. (Worth finding!) The latter is a four-part series all about British automotive history, and hosted by Paul McGann. I will admit that I originally watched it out of an idle curiosity about the history of cars and had discovered it via a YouTube search for stuff PM was in. While he definitely made it more enjoyable to watch and listen to, I think I would've still found it interesting with a different host; there's a lot of interesting history surrounding the evolution of the car.
And no, you won't find the full thing on YouTube anymore. I enjoyed it so much I may buy a copy. While Amazon Prime members can stream it, it isn't shown in the order I saw on YouTube, the order it was aired in. Oh, and the closed captioning is off. As in comically off.
Chapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Three / Chapter Four / Chapter Five
Altered History: Echoes on Ood Sphere
Started April 24, 2017
Unfinished as of original posting
Finished December 15, 2018
Chapter Six: Robes, Wigs and Trouble-makers
“What do you think you're doing?!”
The shout was repeated time and again as the Eighth Doctor ran through the streets of Rome. In Latin, of course. Not that he paid it much mind.
“Sorry, got a criminal to catch!” was all he would say as he raced along. And it was the truth. There was a hunted criminal, wanted across the galaxy, who had escaped his grasp after another adventure. And how the Draconian of the Draconians - nicknamed so by his people's enemies - had obtained a portable time travel device with a built-in perception filter was beyond him.
At length he had to stop as he looked at the sonic. “Oh, you slipped me again! Now where could you possibly be?”
Suddenly he was run over by another person.
“Oi!”
The other person's exclamation stopped any protest Eight was about to make. He looked up and his eyes widened at the sight of the future him he met in 2004 London. “You again!”
Ten smiled as he offered a hand to his earlier self. “After the Draconian? My scans know where he is. He's heading for Nero's Palace.”
Eight winced. “He's going to kill Nero and take over Rome.”
“And enough people hate him that his death would be welcomed. But the fire hasn't happened, and Vespasian is still years away from being ready to take over.”
“Yeah, as little as even I would regret his passing it's too soon. So... if you're here does that mean we're working together again?”
“Sort of. I have another problem to solve.”
“What?”
“You've met her already. She's been kidnapped.”
Eight's eyes narrowed. “Rose?! You took her with you after all?!”
“Stop it. She's been blaming others for her own misfortunes. She's young enough that I'm trying to teach her how toxic that is for her.”
“Forgive me if I'm not ready to accept that she might be different from her. Is the Draconian involved?”
“I could wish. Guess where she's being held. It's in the one place where I can't get into without attracting too much attention.”
Eight thought about it, thinking about the locations in the city where a strange man would be far too conspicuous. “Let's see. I'm not sure if the perception filters would work in convincing Romans that you're one of them, given how different your clothes are. There are several places, including some of the temples.” He paused. “Oh, no! Not the Vestal Virgins!”
Ten grimaced and nodded. “I need to write a manual for blending in better. Well, more like get someone I know to do it,” he added quietly.
“What kind of damage could she do if she spreads too much freedom? It'll set history back centuries! You have to get her out!”
“Well, I was more concerned about protecting her from randy Romans when I came up with her cover! Not my fault that trouble appeared that forced me to leave her where she ought to have been safe, and she wouldn't keep her little stupid ape mouth shut about women's rights to be anywhere in public. Would have to go through the authorities to get her out. But I have a bigger problem. The Draconian is ready to carry out his plan. Worse, the Romans have declared Rose must be executed as a sacrifice to one of their gods at the same instant I believe he will attempt to murder Nero.”
“Okay, this is a problem. Can't you use your TARDIS?”
“He's planted some field dampeners to disrupt time devices. Didn't you notice how tricky landing was?”
“Oh... yes, it was. I thought it was a time eddy caused by his rapid departure.”
“Well, that didn't help. But you tried to land closer and it didn't work. That's those dampeners at work. And believe me, I tried to look for a way around them for you once I realized where and when Rose and I landed.”
Eight rubbed his eyes. “So... what do we do? Did we befriend anyone who can help us?”
Ten groaned a sigh. “No. Rose wasn't keen to let me speak with anyone female. Not that I had many opportunities. It means one of us has to help Rose while the other goes for the Draconian.”
“Well, what are you waiting for? Help your friend.”
Ten grabbed Eight's arm, keeping him from moving away. “In case you've forgotten, the Draconian is very strong and about half a head taller than you. Oh, I'm sure you could catch him, but how much attention will you draw?”
“I'd rather deal with him than with rescuing an idiot who needed to-”
“And did I mention that the guards around the Vestal temple are on the highest possible alert? I checked already. Several of the guards are capable of seeing through a perception filter. We have to do it with a simpler disguise.”
“What else could work?”
“Someone has to go inside the temple.”
“But if we have no friends to help, and the guards will sound an alarm if a perception filter is used... that leaves going undercover as a Vestal Virgin! Do you even remember when I had to do that when Augustus was alive?!”
“Believe me, the memory of this event isn't much better on my side. But the alternative is far worse. And do you see me passing even remotely as one now? You have an hour to get there in disguise, or who knows what damage Rose will cause in trying to get out of becoming a sacrifice to Apollo. And you'll have to deal with the guards even more.”
Eight paled and swallowed hard.
/=/=/=/=/=/
“The later me deserves all the names I've thought toward him,” Eight muttered fifty minutes later.
He had given his appearance a few good glares inside the TARDIS before he left to make his way to the Temple. Luckily, he found the same costume he used all those years ago, before he had even met Lucie. Based on the chiming of the TARDIS, the Old Girl was trying to make things easier for him so he could get it over with. He thanked the necessity for veils to conceal his face. However, it had required a wig to create the right look. It had even then, but now it felt heavier.
He walked as though he were one of the Virgins on an errand. It was his best chance to get through.
“Halt! Who goes there?”
Ah, yes, It was about time to run into one of the guards. Although it was strange for them to attempt to stop one of the Virgins. Now to test how well his old woman voice worked.
“I am the helper of the Priestess. I carry the food for this evening.”
It helped that he knew the Temple's patterns from that previous time. Without it, he might have more trouble. At least the guards would know better than to touch him; that would incur the death penalty. Yet they were plainly on edge.
The guard relaxed a little. “You are unusually late.”
So it was still convincing. Good. “I know. I was intercepted by the guards of the Emperor, and I must convey a message.”
The guard stilled. “What commands does the Emperor have for us?”
“The girl who was captured, he demands that I bring her to the Palace.”
“The girl the City Auger says is a witch? She is to be sent to the Colosseum in three hours.”
“The Emperor heard of her and wishes to see her himself before she meets her fate,” Eight said, keeping calm. It was a hard ask, even with how much he disliked Rose. No one deserved that fate. Not even if their body might be a potential vessel for the Time Demon. He wondered if that was how the Auger was interpreting what they saw. If they saw a true vision. And that was a big if.
The guard sank in his shoes, face contorting sharply. “You will require two guards to escort you both. She has been confined away from the Virgins, whom she was once promised to. The claims the child makes! It is an abomination!”
“One that will soon not be our concern,” Eight assured them in his concealed voice.
Well, not Rome's at any rate.
“Very well. Bring the food inside and then wait for us.” The guard turned and went inside without another word.
Eight quickly - adjusting for his cover - brought the cargo to one of the ladies inside and managed to give it without a word. Then he returned outside. A quick look around to see if anyone was watching, and he slipped his hand inside the hidden pocket he created in the stola he wore, covered by the heavy folds of the palla. He checked the scanner. “No sign of the attack. Good. Ten still has time to stop him.”
He heard a muffled crying and winced as he put away the scanner. Donning his best expression of placidity he turned. It was no surprise that Rose - who had clearly been given a warning to wear the right items for a young Roman girl newly reached marriageable age - was bound and gagged.
“Thank the Eternals I can remain silent,” he muttered to himself. “My cover requires it.”
However, his nose picked up on a detail that made him worried for Rose. Roman prisoners were kept in a place called the oubliette, where the only thing to eat was stale bread and the only water came from the guards peeing on them. Rose smelled like she had been peed on. A lot, if his instinct was correct.
“Cease your futile struggle, child!” snapped the second guard. “Your wicked words shall soon be silenced in the arena. But it seems the Princeps wishes to have his fun with you before he sends you to your death. Your only hope of survival is to obey him in everything, and perhaps he will spare you as one of his slaves.”
Eight hoped his flinching remained hidden the huge fabric of the typical garb. It was just as well that Rose was not looking his way, or she might have recognized his eyes. Or not, if Ten was right and this was not who she seemed.
He let the guards lead them inside the Palace. That journey took quite a few minutes, and seemed an eternity to Eight because his thoughts were running wild. Yet it was not because of who he feared Rose was. It was what he feared for Rose.
Given how much she remained struggling, that alone would have been enough to remind Eight that Free Roman men felt it their duty to have sex - whether with a wife, a sex slave or a random girl - and that any girl not a virgin would have been seen as fair game. He had a sudden sinking feeling that Rose had been a victim of some attack by one or more males. He could even sense a few thoughts from her, about a boy from her time who appeared to have done so after deceiving her. And she seemed to particularly fear these two guards. No wonder she was panicking. Even if she was destined to be a thrall of the Moment she did not deserve this.
So, once they were in a deserted corridor, Eight - fueled by protective fury - acted. He turned quickly, slowing Time as he moved. His hands found the right spots on the guards' necks, which were mercifully exposed just enough, and used his fingers to force them into unconsciousness.
Rose stilled the instant the old woman turned into what seemed like a blur that knocked out the guards before solidifying back into the same woman. Horror mixed with surprise and hope until her arm was grabbed. Her eyes flashed, as if she were ready to give this old hag in front of her a piece of her mind.
“If you want to escape here and return to the Doctor, you'll keep absolutely quiet.”
Eight hid a smile behind the veil at her face, transformed by pure shock. She wasn't expecting that, and he was glad for it. “Now, I will unbind you, but I don't know if I can trust you to keep quiet. Even though you must know that speaking above a whisper will bring more of their friends. Do you understand that our survival depends on you obeying everything your friend and I say? Or you can expect Nero to have his way with you, no matter your thoughts on the matter. Then you'll either be his slave or sent to the arena to be killed by wild animals. Will you be quiet?”
Her eyes went huge and she trembled, but nodded immediately.
“Good,” he muttered as he made quick work of the ropes and then the gag. “Rose, did anyone do more than threaten you and urinate on you?”
The level of fear she was still in kept her silent, because she could only shake her head - although the vigor behind it strengthened the silent assertion.
Eight felt the air rush out of his lungs, along with a flood of tension. “Good. No one deserves that. Now, follow me!” he whispered, taking hold of her arm to make sure he knew where she was.
Rose, face frozen from the multiple shocks and the danger still present, still managed to find enough voice to whisper back. “What are you doing here?”
“Chasing a very bad alien. The Doctor has gone after him.”
“What's his problem? Why's he here?”
“To kill Nero.”
She frowned, losing some of her horror. “But, wasn't he bad?”
“The Great Fire is due to happen very soon. Nero must be alive or your precious image of him fiddling away as Rome burns won't happen. He needs to survive so Vespasian can take over at the right time.”
Screaming burst from nearby, and a flood of Romans raced toward them. Eight managed to draw Rose into a tight space to allow the stampede to escape. Their words crashed over each other. Except for one man's.
“Guards! Stop those two mad men in there!”
But the guards seemed just as determined to flee.
Eight had his scanner discreetly out, and breathed a small sigh of relief. “Well, that's Nero out of the way. Come on!”
They burst in to find Ten in a fierce hand-to-hand fight with an alien. The tall Humaniod was scaly, had a pointed head and his prominent brows were even more evident thanks to anger.
“Oh, my God!” Rose cried, recoiling at the very sight. “Is that a Draconian? They aren't related to Dragons, are they?”
The being roared, nearly throwing Ten off his feet.
“That's a derogatory and racist term, Rose!” Eight snapped, grabbing a spear and using it to join the fight, creating another front for the being to fend off. “Draconians and Draggonians came from the same planet, but the latter were forced to find another homeworld.”
“Why can't I understand him?” Rose asked. “I thought the TARDIS translates everything.”
“He's swearing, and the TARDIS does not translate those,” Ten explained, grunting as he fought to disarm the creature. “Draggonians have some of the reputed duplicity associated with dragons of your lore, whereas Draconians are mostly known for being shockingly strict. But this Draconian is so evil that his own people call him a Draggonian - which the Draggonians take offence to!”
Although it was two against one, the Draconian was managing to use Ten as a shield against Eight. Despite the agility that he had - even with the heavy palla covering him - Eight could not find an opening to use. And that was with him in telepathic communication with Ten.
Rose could not stand aside. She looked around for something she could use and found a lit torch. “Take that, Pointy Head!” she cried, sticking it into his back when he was focused in the other direction.
The Draconian screamed, backing away from both the Doctors and dropping his equipment. Eight and Ten each grabbed them, but were too far away to stop it from falling against more lit items. The amount of oil ignited his skin, causing him to burn to death within seconds.
But before either Doctor would respond to that, the flame caught the cloths in the room on fire. And it burned with a greater intensity than expected.
The trio drew back as Ten said, eyes growing huge in realization, “Oh, that's the first flames of the Great Fire.”
“Oh, wonderful!” Eight snapped, at the end of his patience. “Now the god-forsaken fire turns out to be a stupid teenager's fault!”
Ten's face could not have been any more thunderous had he been about to unleash the Oncoming Storm. “That it is part of history doesn't change how it could have been some other way. Come on! TARDIS is this way!”
The panic caused by the fire ensured that they passed through unmolested. Romans screamed and ran amok as the fire spread thanks to the abundance of flammable materials.
It seemed like forever despite the silence from Rose, who had to use part of her costume to avoid the smoke getting into her lungs. At long last, they made their way to Ten's TARDIS.
Eight slowed as Ten unlocked it. “How did you get so close?”
“I think I landed before he did. Now get in!”
They filed in and Eight closed the doors behind him. Then he paused. “Wait, what happened to the outer doors?” he whispered.
“That fire can't get inside, can it?!” cried Rose.
“I told you, the assembled hordes couldn't get in,” Ten snapped. “And they were a far greater threat. Oh, friend! Going to help?”
Eight rushed to the controls, face contorting around his huge eyes at the sight of the redesigned Control Room even as he helped with the controls themselves to dematerialise. “What did you do to it?!”
“The TARDIS redecorated. Had the energy to do it.”
“What are you two talking about?” shouted Rose.
“Just because you can shout now doesn't mean you have to,” Ten interjected before Eight could. The way his nose was twitching said that he felt offended by the smell coming from Rose. Although as to what the focus of his offense was, it was not obvious even to his earlier self.
The TARDIS' sounds stopped as the ship came to a sudden stop. Everyone wobbled on their feet, but not enough to fall over.
“There. Your ship's outside. See ya around,” said Ten, finally smiling at his earlier self. As if trying to protect his dignity.
Eight scowled. “Yeah, see ya,” he said to him, feeling like it was too little and too late.
The path outside took him by where Rose had grabbed a column to stay on her feet. She smirked as he passed by. “It suits you,” she mocked, clearly recovering from her ordeal.
He refused to answer her and merely opened the door, slamming it behind him.
“Rose!” he heard Ten yell through the TARDIS, which said something about how upset he was if he could be heard through the defenses. “Just because some Romans went number one on you doesn't give you the right to poke fun at your rescuer!”
Although it made him less tense to hear that, Eight did not stick around to hear the rest. He promptly rushed to his TARDIS and opened the doors. Once inside the closed inner doors he sagged against them. The Old Girl chimed softly, attempting to comfort him.
But nothing got through to him. A second later he was tugging the palla off even as he rushed to the Wardrobe. “Back to my normal clothes! I feel like I need to bathe in acid after that. When will I feel freed from seeing that reminder of my past?! Will I ever have someone who actually stays with me?”
/=/=/=/=/=/
End of Chapter Notes: a few terms needed clarification:
stola: the basic Roman woman's garment
palla: a heavy fabric that wrapped around like a cloak
oubliette: yep, a place Roman prisoners were kept. Conditions were not pleasant, and urine was the only source of water.
Chapter Seven: The Ood Odds
Genre: Doctor Who
Rating: T (violence, angst-ridden Doctor)
Author: tkel_paris
Summary: On another major journey the Doctor and Donna land on a planet of beings aware of him, but he doesn't know them. The danger compells him to reveal more about the past he is still fighting against, how he fears the Moment is still haunting him. And Donna sees reason to share his worries.
Disclaimer: Imagine what might have been had the Movie turned into a series as originally intended. What else would have been? So... clearly not mine. Still.
Dedication: cassikat, who kept pressing me to write more of this series. Thanks to Camp NaNoWriMo, I got started on this story when the others stalled hard. Although it took me a while to get cranking on it again.
Author's Notes: Now the series starts providing more answers about the differences the Eighth Doctor's still being alive has caused, and the effects they have. And it's clearly leading toward more. And please, go back and read the first two stories, The Runaway Bride and Prophecies and Pompeii, before reading this one.
I suppose it's worth mentioning that some of the lines in the first chapter were influenced by both the Big Finish audio “Max Warp” and the BBC documentary “The Petrol Age”. The former is an Eight and Lucie adventure set on a space station in the future, and involves both spaceships and a mystery. (Worth finding!) The latter is a four-part series all about British automotive history, and hosted by Paul McGann. I will admit that I originally watched it out of an idle curiosity about the history of cars and had discovered it via a YouTube search for stuff PM was in. While he definitely made it more enjoyable to watch and listen to, I think I would've still found it interesting with a different host; there's a lot of interesting history surrounding the evolution of the car.
And no, you won't find the full thing on YouTube anymore. I enjoyed it so much I may buy a copy. While Amazon Prime members can stream it, it isn't shown in the order I saw on YouTube, the order it was aired in. Oh, and the closed captioning is off. As in comically off.
Chapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Three / Chapter Four / Chapter Five
Altered History: Echoes on Ood Sphere
Started April 24, 2017
Unfinished as of original posting
Finished December 15, 2018
Chapter Six: Robes, Wigs and Trouble-makers
“What do you think you're doing?!”
The shout was repeated time and again as the Eighth Doctor ran through the streets of Rome. In Latin, of course. Not that he paid it much mind.
“Sorry, got a criminal to catch!” was all he would say as he raced along. And it was the truth. There was a hunted criminal, wanted across the galaxy, who had escaped his grasp after another adventure. And how the Draconian of the Draconians - nicknamed so by his people's enemies - had obtained a portable time travel device with a built-in perception filter was beyond him.
At length he had to stop as he looked at the sonic. “Oh, you slipped me again! Now where could you possibly be?”
Suddenly he was run over by another person.
“Oi!”
The other person's exclamation stopped any protest Eight was about to make. He looked up and his eyes widened at the sight of the future him he met in 2004 London. “You again!”
Ten smiled as he offered a hand to his earlier self. “After the Draconian? My scans know where he is. He's heading for Nero's Palace.”
Eight winced. “He's going to kill Nero and take over Rome.”
“And enough people hate him that his death would be welcomed. But the fire hasn't happened, and Vespasian is still years away from being ready to take over.”
“Yeah, as little as even I would regret his passing it's too soon. So... if you're here does that mean we're working together again?”
“Sort of. I have another problem to solve.”
“What?”
“You've met her already. She's been kidnapped.”
Eight's eyes narrowed. “Rose?! You took her with you after all?!”
“Stop it. She's been blaming others for her own misfortunes. She's young enough that I'm trying to teach her how toxic that is for her.”
“Forgive me if I'm not ready to accept that she might be different from her. Is the Draconian involved?”
“I could wish. Guess where she's being held. It's in the one place where I can't get into without attracting too much attention.”
Eight thought about it, thinking about the locations in the city where a strange man would be far too conspicuous. “Let's see. I'm not sure if the perception filters would work in convincing Romans that you're one of them, given how different your clothes are. There are several places, including some of the temples.” He paused. “Oh, no! Not the Vestal Virgins!”
Ten grimaced and nodded. “I need to write a manual for blending in better. Well, more like get someone I know to do it,” he added quietly.
“What kind of damage could she do if she spreads too much freedom? It'll set history back centuries! You have to get her out!”
“Well, I was more concerned about protecting her from randy Romans when I came up with her cover! Not my fault that trouble appeared that forced me to leave her where she ought to have been safe, and she wouldn't keep her little stupid ape mouth shut about women's rights to be anywhere in public. Would have to go through the authorities to get her out. But I have a bigger problem. The Draconian is ready to carry out his plan. Worse, the Romans have declared Rose must be executed as a sacrifice to one of their gods at the same instant I believe he will attempt to murder Nero.”
“Okay, this is a problem. Can't you use your TARDIS?”
“He's planted some field dampeners to disrupt time devices. Didn't you notice how tricky landing was?”
“Oh... yes, it was. I thought it was a time eddy caused by his rapid departure.”
“Well, that didn't help. But you tried to land closer and it didn't work. That's those dampeners at work. And believe me, I tried to look for a way around them for you once I realized where and when Rose and I landed.”
Eight rubbed his eyes. “So... what do we do? Did we befriend anyone who can help us?”
Ten groaned a sigh. “No. Rose wasn't keen to let me speak with anyone female. Not that I had many opportunities. It means one of us has to help Rose while the other goes for the Draconian.”
“Well, what are you waiting for? Help your friend.”
Ten grabbed Eight's arm, keeping him from moving away. “In case you've forgotten, the Draconian is very strong and about half a head taller than you. Oh, I'm sure you could catch him, but how much attention will you draw?”
“I'd rather deal with him than with rescuing an idiot who needed to-”
“And did I mention that the guards around the Vestal temple are on the highest possible alert? I checked already. Several of the guards are capable of seeing through a perception filter. We have to do it with a simpler disguise.”
“What else could work?”
“Someone has to go inside the temple.”
“But if we have no friends to help, and the guards will sound an alarm if a perception filter is used... that leaves going undercover as a Vestal Virgin! Do you even remember when I had to do that when Augustus was alive?!”
“Believe me, the memory of this event isn't much better on my side. But the alternative is far worse. And do you see me passing even remotely as one now? You have an hour to get there in disguise, or who knows what damage Rose will cause in trying to get out of becoming a sacrifice to Apollo. And you'll have to deal with the guards even more.”
Eight paled and swallowed hard.
/=/=/=/=/=/
“The later me deserves all the names I've thought toward him,” Eight muttered fifty minutes later.
He had given his appearance a few good glares inside the TARDIS before he left to make his way to the Temple. Luckily, he found the same costume he used all those years ago, before he had even met Lucie. Based on the chiming of the TARDIS, the Old Girl was trying to make things easier for him so he could get it over with. He thanked the necessity for veils to conceal his face. However, it had required a wig to create the right look. It had even then, but now it felt heavier.
He walked as though he were one of the Virgins on an errand. It was his best chance to get through.
“Halt! Who goes there?”
Ah, yes, It was about time to run into one of the guards. Although it was strange for them to attempt to stop one of the Virgins. Now to test how well his old woman voice worked.
“I am the helper of the Priestess. I carry the food for this evening.”
It helped that he knew the Temple's patterns from that previous time. Without it, he might have more trouble. At least the guards would know better than to touch him; that would incur the death penalty. Yet they were plainly on edge.
The guard relaxed a little. “You are unusually late.”
So it was still convincing. Good. “I know. I was intercepted by the guards of the Emperor, and I must convey a message.”
The guard stilled. “What commands does the Emperor have for us?”
“The girl who was captured, he demands that I bring her to the Palace.”
“The girl the City Auger says is a witch? She is to be sent to the Colosseum in three hours.”
“The Emperor heard of her and wishes to see her himself before she meets her fate,” Eight said, keeping calm. It was a hard ask, even with how much he disliked Rose. No one deserved that fate. Not even if their body might be a potential vessel for the Time Demon. He wondered if that was how the Auger was interpreting what they saw. If they saw a true vision. And that was a big if.
The guard sank in his shoes, face contorting sharply. “You will require two guards to escort you both. She has been confined away from the Virgins, whom she was once promised to. The claims the child makes! It is an abomination!”
“One that will soon not be our concern,” Eight assured them in his concealed voice.
Well, not Rome's at any rate.
“Very well. Bring the food inside and then wait for us.” The guard turned and went inside without another word.
Eight quickly - adjusting for his cover - brought the cargo to one of the ladies inside and managed to give it without a word. Then he returned outside. A quick look around to see if anyone was watching, and he slipped his hand inside the hidden pocket he created in the stola he wore, covered by the heavy folds of the palla. He checked the scanner. “No sign of the attack. Good. Ten still has time to stop him.”
He heard a muffled crying and winced as he put away the scanner. Donning his best expression of placidity he turned. It was no surprise that Rose - who had clearly been given a warning to wear the right items for a young Roman girl newly reached marriageable age - was bound and gagged.
“Thank the Eternals I can remain silent,” he muttered to himself. “My cover requires it.”
However, his nose picked up on a detail that made him worried for Rose. Roman prisoners were kept in a place called the oubliette, where the only thing to eat was stale bread and the only water came from the guards peeing on them. Rose smelled like she had been peed on. A lot, if his instinct was correct.
“Cease your futile struggle, child!” snapped the second guard. “Your wicked words shall soon be silenced in the arena. But it seems the Princeps wishes to have his fun with you before he sends you to your death. Your only hope of survival is to obey him in everything, and perhaps he will spare you as one of his slaves.”
Eight hoped his flinching remained hidden the huge fabric of the typical garb. It was just as well that Rose was not looking his way, or she might have recognized his eyes. Or not, if Ten was right and this was not who she seemed.
He let the guards lead them inside the Palace. That journey took quite a few minutes, and seemed an eternity to Eight because his thoughts were running wild. Yet it was not because of who he feared Rose was. It was what he feared for Rose.
Given how much she remained struggling, that alone would have been enough to remind Eight that Free Roman men felt it their duty to have sex - whether with a wife, a sex slave or a random girl - and that any girl not a virgin would have been seen as fair game. He had a sudden sinking feeling that Rose had been a victim of some attack by one or more males. He could even sense a few thoughts from her, about a boy from her time who appeared to have done so after deceiving her. And she seemed to particularly fear these two guards. No wonder she was panicking. Even if she was destined to be a thrall of the Moment she did not deserve this.
So, once they were in a deserted corridor, Eight - fueled by protective fury - acted. He turned quickly, slowing Time as he moved. His hands found the right spots on the guards' necks, which were mercifully exposed just enough, and used his fingers to force them into unconsciousness.
Rose stilled the instant the old woman turned into what seemed like a blur that knocked out the guards before solidifying back into the same woman. Horror mixed with surprise and hope until her arm was grabbed. Her eyes flashed, as if she were ready to give this old hag in front of her a piece of her mind.
“If you want to escape here and return to the Doctor, you'll keep absolutely quiet.”
Eight hid a smile behind the veil at her face, transformed by pure shock. She wasn't expecting that, and he was glad for it. “Now, I will unbind you, but I don't know if I can trust you to keep quiet. Even though you must know that speaking above a whisper will bring more of their friends. Do you understand that our survival depends on you obeying everything your friend and I say? Or you can expect Nero to have his way with you, no matter your thoughts on the matter. Then you'll either be his slave or sent to the arena to be killed by wild animals. Will you be quiet?”
Her eyes went huge and she trembled, but nodded immediately.
“Good,” he muttered as he made quick work of the ropes and then the gag. “Rose, did anyone do more than threaten you and urinate on you?”
The level of fear she was still in kept her silent, because she could only shake her head - although the vigor behind it strengthened the silent assertion.
Eight felt the air rush out of his lungs, along with a flood of tension. “Good. No one deserves that. Now, follow me!” he whispered, taking hold of her arm to make sure he knew where she was.
Rose, face frozen from the multiple shocks and the danger still present, still managed to find enough voice to whisper back. “What are you doing here?”
“Chasing a very bad alien. The Doctor has gone after him.”
“What's his problem? Why's he here?”
“To kill Nero.”
She frowned, losing some of her horror. “But, wasn't he bad?”
“The Great Fire is due to happen very soon. Nero must be alive or your precious image of him fiddling away as Rome burns won't happen. He needs to survive so Vespasian can take over at the right time.”
Screaming burst from nearby, and a flood of Romans raced toward them. Eight managed to draw Rose into a tight space to allow the stampede to escape. Their words crashed over each other. Except for one man's.
“Guards! Stop those two mad men in there!”
But the guards seemed just as determined to flee.
Eight had his scanner discreetly out, and breathed a small sigh of relief. “Well, that's Nero out of the way. Come on!”
They burst in to find Ten in a fierce hand-to-hand fight with an alien. The tall Humaniod was scaly, had a pointed head and his prominent brows were even more evident thanks to anger.
“Oh, my God!” Rose cried, recoiling at the very sight. “Is that a Draconian? They aren't related to Dragons, are they?”
The being roared, nearly throwing Ten off his feet.
“That's a derogatory and racist term, Rose!” Eight snapped, grabbing a spear and using it to join the fight, creating another front for the being to fend off. “Draconians and Draggonians came from the same planet, but the latter were forced to find another homeworld.”
“Why can't I understand him?” Rose asked. “I thought the TARDIS translates everything.”
“He's swearing, and the TARDIS does not translate those,” Ten explained, grunting as he fought to disarm the creature. “Draggonians have some of the reputed duplicity associated with dragons of your lore, whereas Draconians are mostly known for being shockingly strict. But this Draconian is so evil that his own people call him a Draggonian - which the Draggonians take offence to!”
Although it was two against one, the Draconian was managing to use Ten as a shield against Eight. Despite the agility that he had - even with the heavy palla covering him - Eight could not find an opening to use. And that was with him in telepathic communication with Ten.
Rose could not stand aside. She looked around for something she could use and found a lit torch. “Take that, Pointy Head!” she cried, sticking it into his back when he was focused in the other direction.
The Draconian screamed, backing away from both the Doctors and dropping his equipment. Eight and Ten each grabbed them, but were too far away to stop it from falling against more lit items. The amount of oil ignited his skin, causing him to burn to death within seconds.
But before either Doctor would respond to that, the flame caught the cloths in the room on fire. And it burned with a greater intensity than expected.
The trio drew back as Ten said, eyes growing huge in realization, “Oh, that's the first flames of the Great Fire.”
“Oh, wonderful!” Eight snapped, at the end of his patience. “Now the god-forsaken fire turns out to be a stupid teenager's fault!”
Ten's face could not have been any more thunderous had he been about to unleash the Oncoming Storm. “That it is part of history doesn't change how it could have been some other way. Come on! TARDIS is this way!”
The panic caused by the fire ensured that they passed through unmolested. Romans screamed and ran amok as the fire spread thanks to the abundance of flammable materials.
It seemed like forever despite the silence from Rose, who had to use part of her costume to avoid the smoke getting into her lungs. At long last, they made their way to Ten's TARDIS.
Eight slowed as Ten unlocked it. “How did you get so close?”
“I think I landed before he did. Now get in!”
They filed in and Eight closed the doors behind him. Then he paused. “Wait, what happened to the outer doors?” he whispered.
“That fire can't get inside, can it?!” cried Rose.
“I told you, the assembled hordes couldn't get in,” Ten snapped. “And they were a far greater threat. Oh, friend! Going to help?”
Eight rushed to the controls, face contorting around his huge eyes at the sight of the redesigned Control Room even as he helped with the controls themselves to dematerialise. “What did you do to it?!”
“The TARDIS redecorated. Had the energy to do it.”
“What are you two talking about?” shouted Rose.
“Just because you can shout now doesn't mean you have to,” Ten interjected before Eight could. The way his nose was twitching said that he felt offended by the smell coming from Rose. Although as to what the focus of his offense was, it was not obvious even to his earlier self.
The TARDIS' sounds stopped as the ship came to a sudden stop. Everyone wobbled on their feet, but not enough to fall over.
“There. Your ship's outside. See ya around,” said Ten, finally smiling at his earlier self. As if trying to protect his dignity.
Eight scowled. “Yeah, see ya,” he said to him, feeling like it was too little and too late.
The path outside took him by where Rose had grabbed a column to stay on her feet. She smirked as he passed by. “It suits you,” she mocked, clearly recovering from her ordeal.
He refused to answer her and merely opened the door, slamming it behind him.
“Rose!” he heard Ten yell through the TARDIS, which said something about how upset he was if he could be heard through the defenses. “Just because some Romans went number one on you doesn't give you the right to poke fun at your rescuer!”
Although it made him less tense to hear that, Eight did not stick around to hear the rest. He promptly rushed to his TARDIS and opened the doors. Once inside the closed inner doors he sagged against them. The Old Girl chimed softly, attempting to comfort him.
But nothing got through to him. A second later he was tugging the palla off even as he rushed to the Wardrobe. “Back to my normal clothes! I feel like I need to bathe in acid after that. When will I feel freed from seeing that reminder of my past?! Will I ever have someone who actually stays with me?”
/=/=/=/=/=/
End of Chapter Notes: a few terms needed clarification:
stola: the basic Roman woman's garment
palla: a heavy fabric that wrapped around like a cloak
oubliette: yep, a place Roman prisoners were kept. Conditions were not pleasant, and urine was the only source of water.
Chapter Seven: The Ood Odds