flight and fancy free (doctor who, eleven and young amelia)
Title: Flight And Fancy Free
Word Count: 700
Characters/Pairings: Eleven and 7-year-old Amelia
Summary: It doesn't look at all like a camel.
Warnings: Nada.
Disclaimer: Doctor Who belongs to the BBC and Steven Moffat. I am just playing around.
A/N: SOOOO sorry it's been so long! This has been sitting in my notepad for about a month, unfinished. I just got caught up in school and work and then I was at the beach and agh! I'm back now, and hopefully more regularly!
Previous: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 (not required for context)
Also, I really really really have to recommend this wonderful short comic strip, because it's related quite a lot to this little series but it's ARTFUL and MAGNIFICENT and I want more.
'It's perfectly safe,' he had assured her, 'like riding a pony. Or a camel. A flying camel, even. Imagine that, Amelia, a flying camel!'
Except, well, it doesn't look at all like a camel, more like a giant floating manta ray, and he hadn't told her about the rows of sharp, jagged teeth sticking out at jaunty angles. There were the beady yellow eyes too, following her every movement, blinking in irregular patterns like flashing Christmas lights.
(Amelia wasn't so sure if she liked Christmas lights anymore.)
"Er," she starts, watching as the Doctor strokes along the scaly, ridged underbelly of the great beast towering over them and wondering how in the world he isn't being gobbled up as a mid-afternoon snack. "Er, Doctor, it's... it's staring at me."
The Doctor looks back at her, eyebrows raised as he clasps his hands together. "Well, of course she is, you're staring at her!" His eyes light up in bemusement and he bends down to tap her nose. "Thinks it rather rude, if you ask me."
Even Amelia has the dignity to blush as she lowers her gaze to the ground, kicking her foot through the fine purple blades of grass.
"Sorry, it's just, er, I mean she's just so very..." she kicks the grass again and throws her hand out to to illustrate whatever word she was trying to say, and the Doctor smiles slightly to himself as he recognises the movement as one of his own.
"Large?" he supplies, but Amelia shakes her head and blurts:
"Toothy."
"Ah." The Doctor laughs, reaching up to grip on of the jagged looking black bones bulging out from the creature's spine and hoisting himself up onto her back. "Kite-winged harbadons are harmless, Pond. Well, unless you're a fish. They're piscivores. You aren't secretly a mermaid, are you? Ariel Pond, maybe?"
"I have got the hair for it," Amelia concedes, smiling a little and taking a bold step forward. When the harbadon's eyes follow her this time she doesn't feel quite as intimidated by it.
"You're also much more feisty," the Doctor chuckles, reaching a hand out, and Amelia latches onto it with both of hers before being hauled straight up onto its back in front of him.
"So, what, we're going to fly on it?"
"Naaah. Who does flying? Flying's dull. The two of us, Amelia Pond, are going to glide."
And with that the Doctor gives the harbadon a brief pat on the side, and Amelia grips onto the spike in front of her as the massive creature shudders and bends beneath them, the wind beginning to pick up around them as though the beast itself was conjuring it. She can feel the Doctor's arm tighten around her waist as he grips onto the spike protruding up behind him.
"Hang on tight, Pond!" is his only warning before they're suddenly lifting up hundreds of feet into the air, low-hanging clouds of deep purple blocking their vision (and drenching them thoroughly with water) until they reach the skies above them, when the harbadon's wings flattening out beside her and the sudden turbulence fades into a gentle wind fluttering around them. The Doctor's grip loosens its death hold almost instantly, and he lets out a dramatic breath.
"Phew! For a moment there I thought she was going to buck us off! That's my girl." He pats the side of the harbadon again, and the creature dips one of her wings into the clouds hanging just under them, letting out a chirrup that sounds so much like the small birds Amelia used to feed bread crumbs with her aunt in the park that it surprises her.
Despite the Doctor's insistence that they wouldn't be flying, the wind whips Amelia's hair to and fro around her head, and she starts to laugh. She can practically hear the Doctor's grin in his voice as he asks, voice raised as to not be swallowed by the air, "Absolutely extraordinary, isn't it? Riding the winds on the top of the world! What did I tell you?"
Amelia can only laugh again, because the Doctor is ridiculous and amazing, and, "This is nothing like riding a camel!"
Word Count: 700
Characters/Pairings: Eleven and 7-year-old Amelia
Summary: It doesn't look at all like a camel.
Warnings: Nada.
Disclaimer: Doctor Who belongs to the BBC and Steven Moffat. I am just playing around.
A/N: SOOOO sorry it's been so long! This has been sitting in my notepad for about a month, unfinished. I just got caught up in school and work and then I was at the beach and agh! I'm back now, and hopefully more regularly!
Previous: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 (not required for context)
Also, I really really really have to recommend this wonderful short comic strip, because it's related quite a lot to this little series but it's ARTFUL and MAGNIFICENT and I want more.
'It's perfectly safe,' he had assured her, 'like riding a pony. Or a camel. A flying camel, even. Imagine that, Amelia, a flying camel!'
Except, well, it doesn't look at all like a camel, more like a giant floating manta ray, and he hadn't told her about the rows of sharp, jagged teeth sticking out at jaunty angles. There were the beady yellow eyes too, following her every movement, blinking in irregular patterns like flashing Christmas lights.
(Amelia wasn't so sure if she liked Christmas lights anymore.)
"Er," she starts, watching as the Doctor strokes along the scaly, ridged underbelly of the great beast towering over them and wondering how in the world he isn't being gobbled up as a mid-afternoon snack. "Er, Doctor, it's... it's staring at me."
The Doctor looks back at her, eyebrows raised as he clasps his hands together. "Well, of course she is, you're staring at her!" His eyes light up in bemusement and he bends down to tap her nose. "Thinks it rather rude, if you ask me."
Even Amelia has the dignity to blush as she lowers her gaze to the ground, kicking her foot through the fine purple blades of grass.
"Sorry, it's just, er, I mean she's just so very..." she kicks the grass again and throws her hand out to to illustrate whatever word she was trying to say, and the Doctor smiles slightly to himself as he recognises the movement as one of his own.
"Large?" he supplies, but Amelia shakes her head and blurts:
"Toothy."
"Ah." The Doctor laughs, reaching up to grip on of the jagged looking black bones bulging out from the creature's spine and hoisting himself up onto her back. "Kite-winged harbadons are harmless, Pond. Well, unless you're a fish. They're piscivores. You aren't secretly a mermaid, are you? Ariel Pond, maybe?"
"I have got the hair for it," Amelia concedes, smiling a little and taking a bold step forward. When the harbadon's eyes follow her this time she doesn't feel quite as intimidated by it.
"You're also much more feisty," the Doctor chuckles, reaching a hand out, and Amelia latches onto it with both of hers before being hauled straight up onto its back in front of him.
"So, what, we're going to fly on it?"
"Naaah. Who does flying? Flying's dull. The two of us, Amelia Pond, are going to glide."
And with that the Doctor gives the harbadon a brief pat on the side, and Amelia grips onto the spike in front of her as the massive creature shudders and bends beneath them, the wind beginning to pick up around them as though the beast itself was conjuring it. She can feel the Doctor's arm tighten around her waist as he grips onto the spike protruding up behind him.
"Hang on tight, Pond!" is his only warning before they're suddenly lifting up hundreds of feet into the air, low-hanging clouds of deep purple blocking their vision (and drenching them thoroughly with water) until they reach the skies above them, when the harbadon's wings flattening out beside her and the sudden turbulence fades into a gentle wind fluttering around them. The Doctor's grip loosens its death hold almost instantly, and he lets out a dramatic breath.
"Phew! For a moment there I thought she was going to buck us off! That's my girl." He pats the side of the harbadon again, and the creature dips one of her wings into the clouds hanging just under them, letting out a chirrup that sounds so much like the small birds Amelia used to feed bread crumbs with her aunt in the park that it surprises her.
Despite the Doctor's insistence that they wouldn't be flying, the wind whips Amelia's hair to and fro around her head, and she starts to laugh. She can practically hear the Doctor's grin in his voice as he asks, voice raised as to not be swallowed by the air, "Absolutely extraordinary, isn't it? Riding the winds on the top of the world! What did I tell you?"
Amelia can only laugh again, because the Doctor is ridiculous and amazing, and, "This is nothing like riding a camel!"