Fic: The Kindness Of Strangers
Title: The Kindness Of Strangers
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: OC, Ianto.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Ianto and his TARDIS go to the aid of an alien fugitive on a distant world.
Word Count: 1737
Written For: Prompt 164 - Rescue at fandomweekly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters. They belong to the BBC.
A/N: Set in my Through Time and Space ‘Verse.
Andovar was running for his life, twisting and turning through the narrow city streets and alleyways, pausing only occasionally, and then for scarcely long enough to catch his breath. He never dared rest for long, slowing to a walk for a few brief moments before breaking into a run again, though he knew it was hopeless; he’d never get away. He could hear the strident wailing of the tracker beasts; they had his scent, and they would not stop until they caught him, which would likely be soon, for they were reputed to be tireless, and he was already struggling to keep going.
It had been foolish of him to attempt escape. There was nowhere he could run to, nowhere in Eltinor City he could hide, nowhere on the whole of Rugin’s World he could seek refuge, and no one who would dare shelter a fugitive, even amongst the few people he’d come to know well enough to consider them friends. He would not think to impose on them anyway, not when the law enforcement division of the Imperial Guard would have already sent out alerts to every household to be on the lookout for an escaped prisoner. Anyone brave or foolish enough to offer him aid would be branded a criminal, at the very least have their standing in the community publicly stripped away. They would be ruined, their lives in tatters, and for no good reason.
True, for one of their own, some might take the risk, but not for one such as Andovar. He would be easily recognised by all since he was not of this world. He was a trader from Ferruma, an honest man who worked hard for his living, and yet he’d been sentenced to a lifetime of slavery, all because he’d found a badly wounded female Ruginian, victim of some unknown assailant, and tried to help her. She hadn’t survived, her injuries proving too severe, and because there’d been no witnesses to corroborate his version of events, he’d found himself accused and convicted of her murder, without so much as a trial, or at least not an impartial one, the sort he could have expected on fair and just Ferruma.
He'd tried to plead innocence anyway, tried to explain, but nobody had been willing to listen to a foreigner, all of whom were treated with mild suspicion at the best of times by the majority of the Ruginian elite. Thus, the Lord High Adjudicator, without ever once speaking to Andovar, had handed down sentence, assigning him to a work gang tasked with repairing the city’s roadways, which had been damaged by the recent heavy rains. Unable to accept such a fate, at the first opportunity Andovar had run, with no thought in his mind beyond reaching his ship and leaving Rugin’s World behind forever.
Fate had continued to go against him, however, and when he’d arrived at the spaceport earlier that evening, he’d found his ship gone, its berth empty except for an official notice. The small trading vessel, along with his wares and all of his assets, had already been sold to the highest bidder in order to pay reparations to the victim’s family.
With no way off-world, all he’d been able to do was keep running. Surrendering was out of the question, the law enforcers would shoot him on sight, but maybe that would be the best outcome he could hope for. In the unlikely event he survived capture he would be executed anyway, but if the tracker beasts caught him, they would rip him to shreds. The savage creatures could neither be placated, nor reasoned with.
The streets were deserted at this early hour. There was always a strict curfew in force in Eltinor City; no persons other than the law enforcers were permitted to be outside their homes or their workplaces between the twenty-second hour of one day and the eighth hour of the day following. Andovar was therefore surprised when a figure stepped out in front of him, blocking the narrow, poorly lit alleyway he was stumbling along, almost at the limits of his strength. His first thought was that the law enforcers had somehow contrived to get ahead of him and that he was about to be captured, but then he realised the being before him was not Ruginian. He was too tall, too thin, too pale of skin, and his clothing was strange, otherworldly. When he spoke, it was not in the Ruginian tongue, but in Andovar’s own language, yet he was clearly not Ferrumian either.
The stranger held out one pale, peculiarly shaped hand to him. “I’m here to help you, Ser Andovar. Come with me if you want to live.”
Andovar was painfully aware it might be a trick of some sort, and yet what did he have to lose? By his actions in attempting escape, his life was already forfeit; he would never see his mate and his children again, and the wails of the tracker beasts were growing louder by the moment. If they were to catch him…
He reached for the stranger’s hand, felt strong, surprisingly warm fingers clasp his own in a firm grip, and then they were both running, Andovar struggling to keep up with the other’s long strides, along the alley, around a corner, across one of the main boulevards, lined with shade trees, and into another alley with a tall, solid wall blocking the far end. Just as Andovar was sure they were trapped, a door swung open to their left, and soft, gold-tinged light spilled out. The stranger pulled Andovar towards it, and into a room the likes of which he’d never seen, the door closing behind them seemingly of its own accord.
Andovar didn’t allow himself time to take in his surroundings beyond that first glimpse of polished wooden floors, tables and chairs as might be found in any public eating house, and a raised area housing a curious contraption. There were more pressing matters to contend with.
“The tracker beasts! They will find us here; your door will not stop them.”
“Don’t worry about them,” the stranger told him calmly. “We’ll be long gone by the time they reach the alley.”
“Gone? Gone where?” Looking around, Andovar saw passageways radiating out from the room he and his rescuer were in, but he knew even if they fled down one of them, the tracker beasts would simply follow his scent, and that of the stranger. “You are a stranger here, and I am a fugitive from justice; your life will be forfeit along with mine, for the crime of helping me!”
“Not once we’re outside the jurisdiction of the Imperial Guard, which we will be, very soon. As for the tracker beasts, they’re going to be most confused when the scent trail they’re following simply… vanishes.”
“Outside their jurisdiction? That is not possible! The whole of Rugin’s World is under the Guard’s jurisdiction!” Although near total exhaustion, Andovar was vaguely aware of a strange sound coming from the contraption on the platform, and then he felt a faint vibration through the soles of his feet.
"Then it's a good thing we're not on Rugin’s World any longer, isn’t it?” The stranger bared his teeth, and yet his facial expression did not appear threatening. “Sorry,” he added, perhaps sensing Andovar’s discomfort; the teeth disappeared from view. “I forget sometimes that showing teeth is considered impolite in some places. I apologise if I caused offence.”
“No matter.” Andovar brushed the apology aside with a casual flick of his long nose. “What do you mean that we are no longer on Rugin’s World?”
“We left the planet several minutes ago,” the stranger replied. “Where are my manners? I haven’t even introduced myself. My name is Ianto Jones, and you’re aboard my spaceship.”
“Spaceship?” Andovar’s legs chose that moment to give out and he sat down in the nearest chair, confused and bewildered; he knew spaceships, and if that was what this extraordinary room was, then it was the oddest spaceship he had ever encountered. Why, from the alleyway all he had seen was a door in a solid stone wall! Then, rather belatedly, another thought struck him. “Where are you taking me? Am I now your prisoner?”
“Good heavens no, nothing of the sort! As for where I’m taking you, for the moment we’re heading for the third moon of Rusha; it’s in neutral space, well outside of the Imperial Guard’s authority. Even if they were able to follow us, which they can’t, they wouldn’t be able to do anything to either of us. My partner will meet us at Rusha’s secondary spaceport with your ship, which he’s taken the liberty of…” He paused, an indecipherable expression crossing his face. “Stealing is such an unpleasant word, don’t you think?” he continued. “Let’s just say that he’s liberated it for you. After all, it belongs to you, so it’s only fair you should get it back. It would probably be best for you to steer clear of the Ruginian Sector in future though. You wouldn’t want to risk being captured again.”
“I… I don’t understand.”
“You don’t need to, Ser Andovar. Just accept that you’re safe, and you’ll soon be aboard your ship, heading home to your family. Your mate and children will be most relieved to see you safe and well.”
“There are no words to express my gratitude. But how can I ever hope to repay you?”
“That is not required. Rescuing good people in need is what I and my partner do. If you wish to thank us, then continue to live your life well and honestly, and don’t allow this regrettable incident to prevent you from helping others in future. That will be more than enough payment, and the universe will be all the better for it.”
Although too weary to stand, Andovar bowed. “It shall be as you say, Ser Jones. I owe you my life; your name will be spoken with honour among my family, and you will always be welcome in our home.”
Jones bowed in return. “The honour is mine. Now rest, recover your strength. It will be a while yet before we reach Rusha.”
Leaning back in his chair, Andovar allowed his eyes to close and prayed to the Celestial Beings that he would not wake to find his rescue had been nothing more than a dream.
The End
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: OC, Ianto.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Ianto and his TARDIS go to the aid of an alien fugitive on a distant world.
Word Count: 1737
Written For: Prompt 164 - Rescue at fandomweekly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters. They belong to the BBC.
A/N: Set in my Through Time and Space ‘Verse.
Andovar was running for his life, twisting and turning through the narrow city streets and alleyways, pausing only occasionally, and then for scarcely long enough to catch his breath. He never dared rest for long, slowing to a walk for a few brief moments before breaking into a run again, though he knew it was hopeless; he’d never get away. He could hear the strident wailing of the tracker beasts; they had his scent, and they would not stop until they caught him, which would likely be soon, for they were reputed to be tireless, and he was already struggling to keep going.
It had been foolish of him to attempt escape. There was nowhere he could run to, nowhere in Eltinor City he could hide, nowhere on the whole of Rugin’s World he could seek refuge, and no one who would dare shelter a fugitive, even amongst the few people he’d come to know well enough to consider them friends. He would not think to impose on them anyway, not when the law enforcement division of the Imperial Guard would have already sent out alerts to every household to be on the lookout for an escaped prisoner. Anyone brave or foolish enough to offer him aid would be branded a criminal, at the very least have their standing in the community publicly stripped away. They would be ruined, their lives in tatters, and for no good reason.
True, for one of their own, some might take the risk, but not for one such as Andovar. He would be easily recognised by all since he was not of this world. He was a trader from Ferruma, an honest man who worked hard for his living, and yet he’d been sentenced to a lifetime of slavery, all because he’d found a badly wounded female Ruginian, victim of some unknown assailant, and tried to help her. She hadn’t survived, her injuries proving too severe, and because there’d been no witnesses to corroborate his version of events, he’d found himself accused and convicted of her murder, without so much as a trial, or at least not an impartial one, the sort he could have expected on fair and just Ferruma.
He'd tried to plead innocence anyway, tried to explain, but nobody had been willing to listen to a foreigner, all of whom were treated with mild suspicion at the best of times by the majority of the Ruginian elite. Thus, the Lord High Adjudicator, without ever once speaking to Andovar, had handed down sentence, assigning him to a work gang tasked with repairing the city’s roadways, which had been damaged by the recent heavy rains. Unable to accept such a fate, at the first opportunity Andovar had run, with no thought in his mind beyond reaching his ship and leaving Rugin’s World behind forever.
Fate had continued to go against him, however, and when he’d arrived at the spaceport earlier that evening, he’d found his ship gone, its berth empty except for an official notice. The small trading vessel, along with his wares and all of his assets, had already been sold to the highest bidder in order to pay reparations to the victim’s family.
With no way off-world, all he’d been able to do was keep running. Surrendering was out of the question, the law enforcers would shoot him on sight, but maybe that would be the best outcome he could hope for. In the unlikely event he survived capture he would be executed anyway, but if the tracker beasts caught him, they would rip him to shreds. The savage creatures could neither be placated, nor reasoned with.
The streets were deserted at this early hour. There was always a strict curfew in force in Eltinor City; no persons other than the law enforcers were permitted to be outside their homes or their workplaces between the twenty-second hour of one day and the eighth hour of the day following. Andovar was therefore surprised when a figure stepped out in front of him, blocking the narrow, poorly lit alleyway he was stumbling along, almost at the limits of his strength. His first thought was that the law enforcers had somehow contrived to get ahead of him and that he was about to be captured, but then he realised the being before him was not Ruginian. He was too tall, too thin, too pale of skin, and his clothing was strange, otherworldly. When he spoke, it was not in the Ruginian tongue, but in Andovar’s own language, yet he was clearly not Ferrumian either.
The stranger held out one pale, peculiarly shaped hand to him. “I’m here to help you, Ser Andovar. Come with me if you want to live.”
Andovar was painfully aware it might be a trick of some sort, and yet what did he have to lose? By his actions in attempting escape, his life was already forfeit; he would never see his mate and his children again, and the wails of the tracker beasts were growing louder by the moment. If they were to catch him…
He reached for the stranger’s hand, felt strong, surprisingly warm fingers clasp his own in a firm grip, and then they were both running, Andovar struggling to keep up with the other’s long strides, along the alley, around a corner, across one of the main boulevards, lined with shade trees, and into another alley with a tall, solid wall blocking the far end. Just as Andovar was sure they were trapped, a door swung open to their left, and soft, gold-tinged light spilled out. The stranger pulled Andovar towards it, and into a room the likes of which he’d never seen, the door closing behind them seemingly of its own accord.
Andovar didn’t allow himself time to take in his surroundings beyond that first glimpse of polished wooden floors, tables and chairs as might be found in any public eating house, and a raised area housing a curious contraption. There were more pressing matters to contend with.
“The tracker beasts! They will find us here; your door will not stop them.”
“Don’t worry about them,” the stranger told him calmly. “We’ll be long gone by the time they reach the alley.”
“Gone? Gone where?” Looking around, Andovar saw passageways radiating out from the room he and his rescuer were in, but he knew even if they fled down one of them, the tracker beasts would simply follow his scent, and that of the stranger. “You are a stranger here, and I am a fugitive from justice; your life will be forfeit along with mine, for the crime of helping me!”
“Not once we’re outside the jurisdiction of the Imperial Guard, which we will be, very soon. As for the tracker beasts, they’re going to be most confused when the scent trail they’re following simply… vanishes.”
“Outside their jurisdiction? That is not possible! The whole of Rugin’s World is under the Guard’s jurisdiction!” Although near total exhaustion, Andovar was vaguely aware of a strange sound coming from the contraption on the platform, and then he felt a faint vibration through the soles of his feet.
"Then it's a good thing we're not on Rugin’s World any longer, isn’t it?” The stranger bared his teeth, and yet his facial expression did not appear threatening. “Sorry,” he added, perhaps sensing Andovar’s discomfort; the teeth disappeared from view. “I forget sometimes that showing teeth is considered impolite in some places. I apologise if I caused offence.”
“No matter.” Andovar brushed the apology aside with a casual flick of his long nose. “What do you mean that we are no longer on Rugin’s World?”
“We left the planet several minutes ago,” the stranger replied. “Where are my manners? I haven’t even introduced myself. My name is Ianto Jones, and you’re aboard my spaceship.”
“Spaceship?” Andovar’s legs chose that moment to give out and he sat down in the nearest chair, confused and bewildered; he knew spaceships, and if that was what this extraordinary room was, then it was the oddest spaceship he had ever encountered. Why, from the alleyway all he had seen was a door in a solid stone wall! Then, rather belatedly, another thought struck him. “Where are you taking me? Am I now your prisoner?”
“Good heavens no, nothing of the sort! As for where I’m taking you, for the moment we’re heading for the third moon of Rusha; it’s in neutral space, well outside of the Imperial Guard’s authority. Even if they were able to follow us, which they can’t, they wouldn’t be able to do anything to either of us. My partner will meet us at Rusha’s secondary spaceport with your ship, which he’s taken the liberty of…” He paused, an indecipherable expression crossing his face. “Stealing is such an unpleasant word, don’t you think?” he continued. “Let’s just say that he’s liberated it for you. After all, it belongs to you, so it’s only fair you should get it back. It would probably be best for you to steer clear of the Ruginian Sector in future though. You wouldn’t want to risk being captured again.”
“I… I don’t understand.”
“You don’t need to, Ser Andovar. Just accept that you’re safe, and you’ll soon be aboard your ship, heading home to your family. Your mate and children will be most relieved to see you safe and well.”
“There are no words to express my gratitude. But how can I ever hope to repay you?”
“That is not required. Rescuing good people in need is what I and my partner do. If you wish to thank us, then continue to live your life well and honestly, and don’t allow this regrettable incident to prevent you from helping others in future. That will be more than enough payment, and the universe will be all the better for it.”
Although too weary to stand, Andovar bowed. “It shall be as you say, Ser Jones. I owe you my life; your name will be spoken with honour among my family, and you will always be welcome in our home.”
Jones bowed in return. “The honour is mine. Now rest, recover your strength. It will be a while yet before we reach Rusha.”
Leaning back in his chair, Andovar allowed his eyes to close and prayed to the Celestial Beings that he would not wake to find his rescue had been nothing more than a dream.
The End