FIC: All That Spirits Desire [Doctor Who]
Title: All That Spirits Desire
Author: atraphoenix
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Braxiatel/Romana II, Leela/Narvin and Leela/Romana II
Rating: PG
Summary: “This is more than just having a place at your side, Romana! This is a place inside you.”
Author's Note: Written for janeturenne as part of the morepolitics Gallifreyathon.
All that spirits desire, spirits attain.
-- Khalil Gibran
Romana was acutely aware of the two hearts that were beating in her chest. Not that she hadn’t been aware of them before, of course. You had to be aware of your hearts if you were going to learn to stop them, after all. This was different. This was about feeling and instinct. She felt acutely aware of her body as she slipped silently through the Capitol. It was as frightening as it was intoxicating. How did Leela cope, feeling like this all the time? The erratic drumbeat in her chest - the whirlwind of living - was enough to make her dizzy.
Under the cover of darkness, Romana - and, in her dreams, she was only Romana, not the Madam President - made her way towards Braxiatel’s chambers. Time was running out for both of them. For the Time Lords themselves. War was coming to Gallifrey and, even if the did manage to defeat the Daleks, the cost would be high. If she didn’t act on her feelings - the feelings that were usually buried out of sight and out of mind - now, she would never be able to act on them.
There was no reason in the universe. Not really. No matter what the Time Lords liked to think. Everything ended. Even the Time Lords would have to end.
She didn’t knock. She didn’t remember learning the access code to his chambers, but she didn’t knock. Suddenly, Romana was standing inside Braxiatel’s room as her advisor - her friend - abandoned the book he was reading and turned to face her.
“Madam President?”
“You don’t have to call me that when we’re alone, Brax.”
The expression on his face made it clear that he was trying to work out why they were alone. She had never visited his chambers before. His office, yes, but that was different. This was his bedroom. A line had been crossed tonight.
She should have crossed it a long time ago.
“If you insist, Romana.” Braxiatel placed his book on his bedside table and got to his feet. “Is something wrong?”
“Apart from the constant threat of war?”
“Apart from that,” he acknowledged, with a smile that was wry and a little tired, “We should really used to living with war by now. Do have a seat, Romana.”
He meant the armchair, but Romana sat down on the edge of his bed without a second thought. There was no logic to her actions. She didn’t have a plan. She was operating on instinct and the strange look on Braxiatel’s face - he kept it well hidden, of course, but he could erase it entirely - told her that she should continue to trust them.
“Is there anything in particular you’d like to talk about?”
“I didn’t come here to talk, Braxiatel.” Instinct told her to stand up again, so that was what she did. “I talk enough during the day. I am the President of the High Council of the Time Lords.”
She closed the distance between them as she spoke. Her hand was on his chest and she could feel his hearts beating beneath her palm. He might have looked calm, but they were starting to race. She was certain of it.
“I am always talking,” she continued in a bitter tone, “I talk and people listen and sometimes I just … I just …”
“You just what, Romana?”
He sounded a little hoarse. Their lips were only millimetres apart.
“I just want to feel.”
***
It had been a long time since Leela had taken the time to watch the suns setting over the Capitol. These were dark days for Gallifrey and, consequently, she rarely left Romana’s side. The Madam President certainly didn’t have time to relax beneath the burnt orange sky.
Neither did Narvin, which meant that this could only be a dream. He should have been hunched over his desk or participating in clandestine meetings under the cover of darkness, not joining her on deserted rooftops.
There had been a time when she had hated Narvin with every fibre of her being and she was certain that he had felt the same way about her. Now they were allies. Friends, even, for all that he frustrated her. If, in the dark days following Andred’s death, she had told herself that she would seek out Narvin in her dreams, she would have assumed that it was because she wanted to drive a knife into his throat. She didn’t. She wanted to talk to him. She wanted to tease him and bicker with him and, sometimes, simply be with him.
She might have had Romana’s logic in these dreams, but no amount of logic would be able to make sense of her feelings.
“I’m glad to see that the presidential bodyguard is working hard,” Narvin remarked scathingly, stepping up next to her in those ridiculous CIA robes that he refused to be parted from.
“We all need to relax, Narvin. That is why so many politicians visit Davidia.”
“You are not a politician.”
“Neither are you, but you must agree with me. Why else who you be here, watching the setting suns?”
“Why, Leela, that was almost logical.” She didn’t need to turn her head to see the infuriating half smile on his face. She could imagine it well enough. “You don’t sound like your …”
“Like my usual savage self?” she interrupted sharply, “That is because I am not. It is happening again.”
“What? What is happening again?”
Was that concern that she heard in his voice?
“I am not the stupid savage you believe me to be.”
It was not an answer to his question, but it needed to be said.
“It has been a long time since I thought of you as nothing more than a stupid savage, Leela …”
“I know.” He would never apologise, but that comment was enough to make Leela’s lips curve into a smile. “I have seen the way you look at me, Narvin. As if you can’t decide if you want to kiss me or kill me.”
This time, she could not resist turning to see the flustered expression on his face. She felt perfectly calm. Her emotions were under her control and the situation would have been considerably more dangerous if her heart had been leading her head. In her dreams, it was always the other way around. She dared to say things that she would never have been able to voice in the real world, because she knew exactly how to handle Narvin and exactly how to push him in the direction she wanted.
“Leela!” he exclaimed, blanching, “You should show that neither of those options are …”
“Viable? Proper? Acceptable for a Time Lord?” She continued without giving him a chance to answer. “I told you, Narvin. I am not a savage. This is not some … some foolish impulse. I am in control. I know what I want and I know what you want. It would not be logical to ignore it.”
***
“You have been dreaming again,” said Leela, sitting down on the edge of Romana’s bed and giving the other woman an appraising look.
Romana seldom used her bed - a Time Lord rarely needed to sleep, after all - and, whenever she slept, her bodyguard remained awake. It was not unusual for her to wake up and find Leela prowling the room as she listened, as tense as a coiled spring, for the arrival of some unknown foe. The night before, she had retired to her bed without mentioning her exhaustion, hoping to spare her friend the trouble of a patrol that would ultimately be fruitless. (If an enemy managed to penetrate this far into the Capitol, then Gallifrey - and her Madam President - was already lost.)
“How could you tell?”
“Because I have been dreaming again.”
“Really?” Romana sat up, smoothing her tousled blonde hair with one hand. She felt oddly exposed without the heavy robes of office that she had worn for so long, but, if she couldn’t relax when she was with Leela, when could she relax? “What did you dream of this time?”
“That doesn’t matter,” she said, a little too sharply.
That meant that she had been dreaming of Narvin again. Once again, Romana found herself wondering if the dreams merely exposed previously hidden parts of themselves. Their hidden desires, perhaps? There was a chance that, on an entirely subconscious level, Leela displayed uncharacteristic - and decidedly Time Lord - logic in order to try and attract the coordinator with whom she so often verbally sparred. (There was a chance that she dreamed of acting in the opposite way - of acting purely on instinct and primal feeling - in order to confront her feelings for Braxiatel.)
“I thought these dreams would stop, Romana. You said they would stop!”
“I thought they would.” In fact, the strange dreams that had plagued them since their experience in the sensory tanks - an unexpected side effect of the bond they’d shared in the dreams created by ‘the broken man’ - shouldn’t have been able to happen at all. The Time Lords had mental defences that had evolved to stop this kind of thing. “It seems that everything we’ve been through since leaving Davidia has only bound us closer together.”
“I’m sorry, Romana.”
“Why? I told you, Leela, you will always have a place with me.”
“This is more than just having a place at your side, Romana ...” Leela paused. It took a great deal to fluster the warrior, but the strange intimacy of their current situation had pushed her to her limits. “This is … this is inside you.”
“You have that as well,” Romana reminded her with a soft smile, touching her chest to indicate the hearts that were beating inside.
“That is sentimental,” said Leela, laughing a little.
“It must be one of the after effects of the dream.”
“The Sevateem would call it something simpler. They could call it love.”
It was Romana’s turn to laugh now, shaking her head. The expression on Leela’s face was both exasperating and endearing and, unthinkingly, she leaned forward to shatter her uncertain frown with a soft kiss.
Romana halted the kiss before their lips could meet.
She was the President of the High Council of the Time Lords. She couldn’t afford to fall in love with anyone. Certainly not with her alien bodyguard. Certainly not with the Cardinal who had once been her tutor. It would have been a disastrous political move and, with the threat posed by the Daleks growing by the day, Gallifrey needed her now more than ever. She couldn’t afford to throw her position away.
In her dreams, the wild woman who both was and wasn’t her never failed to find her freedom. In the harsh light of the reality and the twin suns of her home planet, her own freedom would have to wait until Gallifrey was truly free.
“Our lives have never been simple, Leela.”
Author: atraphoenix
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Braxiatel/Romana II, Leela/Narvin and Leela/Romana II
Rating: PG
Summary: “This is more than just having a place at your side, Romana! This is a place inside you.”
Author's Note: Written for janeturenne as part of the morepolitics Gallifreyathon.
All that spirits desire, spirits attain.
-- Khalil Gibran
Romana was acutely aware of the two hearts that were beating in her chest. Not that she hadn’t been aware of them before, of course. You had to be aware of your hearts if you were going to learn to stop them, after all. This was different. This was about feeling and instinct. She felt acutely aware of her body as she slipped silently through the Capitol. It was as frightening as it was intoxicating. How did Leela cope, feeling like this all the time? The erratic drumbeat in her chest - the whirlwind of living - was enough to make her dizzy.
Under the cover of darkness, Romana - and, in her dreams, she was only Romana, not the Madam President - made her way towards Braxiatel’s chambers. Time was running out for both of them. For the Time Lords themselves. War was coming to Gallifrey and, even if the did manage to defeat the Daleks, the cost would be high. If she didn’t act on her feelings - the feelings that were usually buried out of sight and out of mind - now, she would never be able to act on them.
There was no reason in the universe. Not really. No matter what the Time Lords liked to think. Everything ended. Even the Time Lords would have to end.
She didn’t knock. She didn’t remember learning the access code to his chambers, but she didn’t knock. Suddenly, Romana was standing inside Braxiatel’s room as her advisor - her friend - abandoned the book he was reading and turned to face her.
“Madam President?”
“You don’t have to call me that when we’re alone, Brax.”
The expression on his face made it clear that he was trying to work out why they were alone. She had never visited his chambers before. His office, yes, but that was different. This was his bedroom. A line had been crossed tonight.
She should have crossed it a long time ago.
“If you insist, Romana.” Braxiatel placed his book on his bedside table and got to his feet. “Is something wrong?”
“Apart from the constant threat of war?”
“Apart from that,” he acknowledged, with a smile that was wry and a little tired, “We should really used to living with war by now. Do have a seat, Romana.”
He meant the armchair, but Romana sat down on the edge of his bed without a second thought. There was no logic to her actions. She didn’t have a plan. She was operating on instinct and the strange look on Braxiatel’s face - he kept it well hidden, of course, but he could erase it entirely - told her that she should continue to trust them.
“Is there anything in particular you’d like to talk about?”
“I didn’t come here to talk, Braxiatel.” Instinct told her to stand up again, so that was what she did. “I talk enough during the day. I am the President of the High Council of the Time Lords.”
She closed the distance between them as she spoke. Her hand was on his chest and she could feel his hearts beating beneath her palm. He might have looked calm, but they were starting to race. She was certain of it.
“I am always talking,” she continued in a bitter tone, “I talk and people listen and sometimes I just … I just …”
“You just what, Romana?”
He sounded a little hoarse. Their lips were only millimetres apart.
“I just want to feel.”
***
It had been a long time since Leela had taken the time to watch the suns setting over the Capitol. These were dark days for Gallifrey and, consequently, she rarely left Romana’s side. The Madam President certainly didn’t have time to relax beneath the burnt orange sky.
Neither did Narvin, which meant that this could only be a dream. He should have been hunched over his desk or participating in clandestine meetings under the cover of darkness, not joining her on deserted rooftops.
There had been a time when she had hated Narvin with every fibre of her being and she was certain that he had felt the same way about her. Now they were allies. Friends, even, for all that he frustrated her. If, in the dark days following Andred’s death, she had told herself that she would seek out Narvin in her dreams, she would have assumed that it was because she wanted to drive a knife into his throat. She didn’t. She wanted to talk to him. She wanted to tease him and bicker with him and, sometimes, simply be with him.
She might have had Romana’s logic in these dreams, but no amount of logic would be able to make sense of her feelings.
“I’m glad to see that the presidential bodyguard is working hard,” Narvin remarked scathingly, stepping up next to her in those ridiculous CIA robes that he refused to be parted from.
“We all need to relax, Narvin. That is why so many politicians visit Davidia.”
“You are not a politician.”
“Neither are you, but you must agree with me. Why else who you be here, watching the setting suns?”
“Why, Leela, that was almost logical.” She didn’t need to turn her head to see the infuriating half smile on his face. She could imagine it well enough. “You don’t sound like your …”
“Like my usual savage self?” she interrupted sharply, “That is because I am not. It is happening again.”
“What? What is happening again?”
Was that concern that she heard in his voice?
“I am not the stupid savage you believe me to be.”
It was not an answer to his question, but it needed to be said.
“It has been a long time since I thought of you as nothing more than a stupid savage, Leela …”
“I know.” He would never apologise, but that comment was enough to make Leela’s lips curve into a smile. “I have seen the way you look at me, Narvin. As if you can’t decide if you want to kiss me or kill me.”
This time, she could not resist turning to see the flustered expression on his face. She felt perfectly calm. Her emotions were under her control and the situation would have been considerably more dangerous if her heart had been leading her head. In her dreams, it was always the other way around. She dared to say things that she would never have been able to voice in the real world, because she knew exactly how to handle Narvin and exactly how to push him in the direction she wanted.
“Leela!” he exclaimed, blanching, “You should show that neither of those options are …”
“Viable? Proper? Acceptable for a Time Lord?” She continued without giving him a chance to answer. “I told you, Narvin. I am not a savage. This is not some … some foolish impulse. I am in control. I know what I want and I know what you want. It would not be logical to ignore it.”
***
“You have been dreaming again,” said Leela, sitting down on the edge of Romana’s bed and giving the other woman an appraising look.
Romana seldom used her bed - a Time Lord rarely needed to sleep, after all - and, whenever she slept, her bodyguard remained awake. It was not unusual for her to wake up and find Leela prowling the room as she listened, as tense as a coiled spring, for the arrival of some unknown foe. The night before, she had retired to her bed without mentioning her exhaustion, hoping to spare her friend the trouble of a patrol that would ultimately be fruitless. (If an enemy managed to penetrate this far into the Capitol, then Gallifrey - and her Madam President - was already lost.)
“How could you tell?”
“Because I have been dreaming again.”
“Really?” Romana sat up, smoothing her tousled blonde hair with one hand. She felt oddly exposed without the heavy robes of office that she had worn for so long, but, if she couldn’t relax when she was with Leela, when could she relax? “What did you dream of this time?”
“That doesn’t matter,” she said, a little too sharply.
That meant that she had been dreaming of Narvin again. Once again, Romana found herself wondering if the dreams merely exposed previously hidden parts of themselves. Their hidden desires, perhaps? There was a chance that, on an entirely subconscious level, Leela displayed uncharacteristic - and decidedly Time Lord - logic in order to try and attract the coordinator with whom she so often verbally sparred. (There was a chance that she dreamed of acting in the opposite way - of acting purely on instinct and primal feeling - in order to confront her feelings for Braxiatel.)
“I thought these dreams would stop, Romana. You said they would stop!”
“I thought they would.” In fact, the strange dreams that had plagued them since their experience in the sensory tanks - an unexpected side effect of the bond they’d shared in the dreams created by ‘the broken man’ - shouldn’t have been able to happen at all. The Time Lords had mental defences that had evolved to stop this kind of thing. “It seems that everything we’ve been through since leaving Davidia has only bound us closer together.”
“I’m sorry, Romana.”
“Why? I told you, Leela, you will always have a place with me.”
“This is more than just having a place at your side, Romana ...” Leela paused. It took a great deal to fluster the warrior, but the strange intimacy of their current situation had pushed her to her limits. “This is … this is inside you.”
“You have that as well,” Romana reminded her with a soft smile, touching her chest to indicate the hearts that were beating inside.
“That is sentimental,” said Leela, laughing a little.
“It must be one of the after effects of the dream.”
“The Sevateem would call it something simpler. They could call it love.”
It was Romana’s turn to laugh now, shaking her head. The expression on Leela’s face was both exasperating and endearing and, unthinkingly, she leaned forward to shatter her uncertain frown with a soft kiss.
Romana halted the kiss before their lips could meet.
She was the President of the High Council of the Time Lords. She couldn’t afford to fall in love with anyone. Certainly not with her alien bodyguard. Certainly not with the Cardinal who had once been her tutor. It would have been a disastrous political move and, with the threat posed by the Daleks growing by the day, Gallifrey needed her now more than ever. She couldn’t afford to throw her position away.
In her dreams, the wild woman who both was and wasn’t her never failed to find her freedom. In the harsh light of the reality and the twin suns of her home planet, her own freedom would have to wait until Gallifrey was truly free.
“Our lives have never been simple, Leela.”