A Winter's Tale (Doctor Who/Narnia, the Doctor and Susan, PG)
Title: A Winter's Tale
Fandoms: Doctor Who/Chronicles of Narnia
Disclaimer: I don't own a TARDIS or any part of the Doctor Who-universe. The magical world of Narnia was created by C.S. Lewis.
Rating: PG
Summary: The importance of shoes, socks, scarves and other things.
A/N: Written for be_themoon on the occasion of the Fall Fandom Free for All.
To have seen a Talking Animal from a country that does not exist would have been, she thinks, an utter disaster. It would have started people talking again, and she's so very tired of being talked about, of being the girl who lost two brothers and a sister to a country that doesn't exist a railway accident. She's grieved, she's mourned, she's moved on. Perhaps not quite in that order, but she has, she feels, done enough.
To have seen a Talking Animal would have been a disaster; to have seen an alien lifeform is, therefore, not quite so bad. Certainly nobody could ever claim the sky is empty, or that there exist no other planets but Earth. The green slime the creature has spit at her seems to have ruined her shoes, but shoes are easily enough replaced. She can buy new ones, and nobody will wonder at it.
"Say, are you all right? Not hurt, are you?"
"Just my shoes." They went out of fashion months ago, anyway.
" 'Just my shoes,' she says. Women." She wonders if he is an actor. The dramatic gestures he is making seem better suited to a stage than to the present situation.
"I am sorry if I have offended you." She cannot see how that would be possible, actually, but he seems to feel rather strongly about the subject of footwear.
"Are you carrying along a second pair, then? Of course you're not! See? Nobody ever expects their shoes to get eaten by a grevaan."
"I live nearby. I shall simply walk home and put on a new pair."
"Or," he says, "I could give you a ride home. No trouble at all. In fact, I insist."
*
"It's bigger on the inside than it looks on the outside." He sounds, she thinks, like a young man showing off his new automobile.
"I had noticed," she says. One would have to be very unobservant not to.
"Aren't you amazed? I don't allow just anyone to come inside, you know."
"It's very nice," she says.
"Nice? I show you one of the most amazing, most marvellous things in the universe and you just say it's nice. Nice! Do you hear that? She thinks you're nice."
"Me?" She is beginning to feel a little uncomfortable.
"No, not you. Where do you live, anyway?"
"Just down the road, number forty-two."
She receives another indignant look. "You could have walked that far. Easily."
"I told you I lived nearby."
"I thought you were just being all brave and stupid."
"No." She shakes her head. "I've never been brave." Not even in Narnia, really.
"That's all right," he says, suddenly looking cheerful again, "I'm a coward, too."
*
She's not quite sure how a simple ride home to put on a new pair of shoes turns into a trip through space and time, really. She is quite sure she's never met anyone who finds trouble quite so easily, merely by walking into it or asking questions.
"Say, do you knit?"
"No." In school, she used to be good at swimming and athletics. She gave both up at some point, choosing to be pretty instead.
"I had this scarf once, you know."
"You lost it somewhere, I assume." He seems the type, even if the TARDIS seems rather short on nooks and crannies wherein one's scarves and socks and handkerchiefs may find a hiding place.
"Bloody marvellous, it was."
(Which is, she discovers shortly afterwards, the Doctor's way of saying 'dress up warmly before you head out - it's cold on this planet'.)
*
The landscape is covered in snow - watched from inside a warm and cozy room, it would have been pleasant. Standing in it is not, though.
" 'Always winter but never Christmas.' "
She's stopped believing in Father Christmas years ago. She's met him, after all, in Narnia.
"I should hope so," the Doctor says. "Nothing good ever happens on Christmas."
"But it's Christmas." A time for gifts and cards, neither of which are delivered by a man in a sledge pulled by reindeer. Rather silly and expensive and a bother, really.
Ed and Lu had loved it.
"The snow's nice. I like snow. We could have a snowfight, if you want."
She shakes her head.
"No snowfight, then."
Her shoes are soaked by now. If she walks on them inside, they'll make a squishy sound and leave behind a trail of half-melted snow and water.
She shivers.
"Good grief, you're freezing. Let's get you inside, shall we? Have a nice cup of tea, or some hot chocolate with marshmallows. Well," he amends, "maybe not marshmallows but I'm sure we can manage something to get you all nice and cozy again."
The building is white on the outside and blue on the inside. There are decorations on the ceiling that look like snowflakes and may very well be.
/You are warm,/ something says. It does not sound particularly pleased.
"Terribly sorry about that. Can't help it, really," the Doctor says.
Susan sneezes.
*
In her dream, she is standing in front of a gate and she knows that if she passes through it, she will be back in Narnia - knows it just as she knew Aslan was really there the last time, even if Lucy was the only one able to see him right away.
As the gates swing open, he's there, waiting. Guarding.
"Susan."
And she knows then, knows she will never be allowed to pass through. Once a queen in Narnia, yet now not even allowed to set foot in it. Because she's afraid. She's always been, only before, she used to be afraid of different things.
"Please," she says. "Oh please."
And Aslan roars.
*
"Can you believe these people? Collapsing the roof on us? Just because I asked for a hot drink?"
"Some people are simply unforgiving." She can still hear a distant rumbling sound.
"I call that unreasonable."
"They probably don't think of it that way."
"Are you quite all right? Didn't hit your head or something, did you?"
"Just cold." She wasn't, for a while, but she is again now. She wonders what happened to the Doctor's scarf.
/You will not leave./ There are vague shapes, moving over the snow, white on white. A cold wind has picked up, and Susan is thinking she should be feeling a bit of that old fear again, the proper kind of fear one experiences when one's own life and that of one's family and friends are at stake.
"Oh, so now you want us to come inside and have a cup of tea, do you? With one of those nice little biscuits maybe? Well, too late."
/You will not leave./
Snow is falling, thick and wet and cold, sticking to her clothes, her hair, her face.
"Do you see this?" The Doctor is practically shouting to make himself heard over the howling wind. She wonders why he is making the effort. "This is us, leaving!"
They stumble into the TARDIS and do so.
*
Christmas in twenty-first-century London is a gaudy affair, and the fact that it is, in fact, only the twentieth of December does not improve Susan's opinion of it.
"Something bad is going to happen."
There is no snow at all, except the one in the shop windows, which isn't real. It's hardly cold and barely feels like winter.
"Because it's almost Christmas?"
There's songs and lights and enough trees to make her wonder where the small forest used to be.
"You'd think they'd wisened up and canceled it or something, but nooo - can't have a year without Christmas. Never mind that the Earth almost got destroyed last time, and the time before that, and let's not even talk about the time before that."
"It would still be Christmas if nobody celebrated it." It merely wouldn't feel like it very much, without any gifts or cards or trees - a bit like being a queen without a crown or a throne or even a country, except not quite, because a queen is something other people make you, while Christmas simply is.
"Well, no sense is hanging around all droopy and waiting for disaster to strike."
Susan wonders if she'll be able to find a scarf in any of the shops here, and whether she'll be able to hide it somewhere on the TARDIS for five days.
Fandoms: Doctor Who/Chronicles of Narnia
Disclaimer: I don't own a TARDIS or any part of the Doctor Who-universe. The magical world of Narnia was created by C.S. Lewis.
Rating: PG
Summary: The importance of shoes, socks, scarves and other things.
A/N: Written for be_themoon on the occasion of the Fall Fandom Free for All.
To have seen a Talking Animal from a country that does not exist would have been, she thinks, an utter disaster. It would have started people talking again, and she's so very tired of being talked about, of being the girl who lost two brothers and a sister to a country that doesn't exist a railway accident. She's grieved, she's mourned, she's moved on. Perhaps not quite in that order, but she has, she feels, done enough.
To have seen a Talking Animal would have been a disaster; to have seen an alien lifeform is, therefore, not quite so bad. Certainly nobody could ever claim the sky is empty, or that there exist no other planets but Earth. The green slime the creature has spit at her seems to have ruined her shoes, but shoes are easily enough replaced. She can buy new ones, and nobody will wonder at it.
"Say, are you all right? Not hurt, are you?"
"Just my shoes." They went out of fashion months ago, anyway.
" 'Just my shoes,' she says. Women." She wonders if he is an actor. The dramatic gestures he is making seem better suited to a stage than to the present situation.
"I am sorry if I have offended you." She cannot see how that would be possible, actually, but he seems to feel rather strongly about the subject of footwear.
"Are you carrying along a second pair, then? Of course you're not! See? Nobody ever expects their shoes to get eaten by a grevaan."
"I live nearby. I shall simply walk home and put on a new pair."
"Or," he says, "I could give you a ride home. No trouble at all. In fact, I insist."
*
"It's bigger on the inside than it looks on the outside." He sounds, she thinks, like a young man showing off his new automobile.
"I had noticed," she says. One would have to be very unobservant not to.
"Aren't you amazed? I don't allow just anyone to come inside, you know."
"It's very nice," she says.
"Nice? I show you one of the most amazing, most marvellous things in the universe and you just say it's nice. Nice! Do you hear that? She thinks you're nice."
"Me?" She is beginning to feel a little uncomfortable.
"No, not you. Where do you live, anyway?"
"Just down the road, number forty-two."
She receives another indignant look. "You could have walked that far. Easily."
"I told you I lived nearby."
"I thought you were just being all brave and stupid."
"No." She shakes her head. "I've never been brave." Not even in Narnia, really.
"That's all right," he says, suddenly looking cheerful again, "I'm a coward, too."
*
She's not quite sure how a simple ride home to put on a new pair of shoes turns into a trip through space and time, really. She is quite sure she's never met anyone who finds trouble quite so easily, merely by walking into it or asking questions.
"Say, do you knit?"
"No." In school, she used to be good at swimming and athletics. She gave both up at some point, choosing to be pretty instead.
"I had this scarf once, you know."
"You lost it somewhere, I assume." He seems the type, even if the TARDIS seems rather short on nooks and crannies wherein one's scarves and socks and handkerchiefs may find a hiding place.
"Bloody marvellous, it was."
(Which is, she discovers shortly afterwards, the Doctor's way of saying 'dress up warmly before you head out - it's cold on this planet'.)
*
The landscape is covered in snow - watched from inside a warm and cozy room, it would have been pleasant. Standing in it is not, though.
" 'Always winter but never Christmas.' "
She's stopped believing in Father Christmas years ago. She's met him, after all, in Narnia.
"I should hope so," the Doctor says. "Nothing good ever happens on Christmas."
"But it's Christmas." A time for gifts and cards, neither of which are delivered by a man in a sledge pulled by reindeer. Rather silly and expensive and a bother, really.
Ed and Lu had loved it.
"The snow's nice. I like snow. We could have a snowfight, if you want."
She shakes her head.
"No snowfight, then."
Her shoes are soaked by now. If she walks on them inside, they'll make a squishy sound and leave behind a trail of half-melted snow and water.
She shivers.
"Good grief, you're freezing. Let's get you inside, shall we? Have a nice cup of tea, or some hot chocolate with marshmallows. Well," he amends, "maybe not marshmallows but I'm sure we can manage something to get you all nice and cozy again."
The building is white on the outside and blue on the inside. There are decorations on the ceiling that look like snowflakes and may very well be.
/You are warm,/ something says. It does not sound particularly pleased.
"Terribly sorry about that. Can't help it, really," the Doctor says.
Susan sneezes.
*
In her dream, she is standing in front of a gate and she knows that if she passes through it, she will be back in Narnia - knows it just as she knew Aslan was really there the last time, even if Lucy was the only one able to see him right away.
As the gates swing open, he's there, waiting. Guarding.
"Susan."
And she knows then, knows she will never be allowed to pass through. Once a queen in Narnia, yet now not even allowed to set foot in it. Because she's afraid. She's always been, only before, she used to be afraid of different things.
"Please," she says. "Oh please."
And Aslan roars.
*
"Can you believe these people? Collapsing the roof on us? Just because I asked for a hot drink?"
"Some people are simply unforgiving." She can still hear a distant rumbling sound.
"I call that unreasonable."
"They probably don't think of it that way."
"Are you quite all right? Didn't hit your head or something, did you?"
"Just cold." She wasn't, for a while, but she is again now. She wonders what happened to the Doctor's scarf.
/You will not leave./ There are vague shapes, moving over the snow, white on white. A cold wind has picked up, and Susan is thinking she should be feeling a bit of that old fear again, the proper kind of fear one experiences when one's own life and that of one's family and friends are at stake.
"Oh, so now you want us to come inside and have a cup of tea, do you? With one of those nice little biscuits maybe? Well, too late."
/You will not leave./
Snow is falling, thick and wet and cold, sticking to her clothes, her hair, her face.
"Do you see this?" The Doctor is practically shouting to make himself heard over the howling wind. She wonders why he is making the effort. "This is us, leaving!"
They stumble into the TARDIS and do so.
*
Christmas in twenty-first-century London is a gaudy affair, and the fact that it is, in fact, only the twentieth of December does not improve Susan's opinion of it.
"Something bad is going to happen."
There is no snow at all, except the one in the shop windows, which isn't real. It's hardly cold and barely feels like winter.
"Because it's almost Christmas?"
There's songs and lights and enough trees to make her wonder where the small forest used to be.
"You'd think they'd wisened up and canceled it or something, but nooo - can't have a year without Christmas. Never mind that the Earth almost got destroyed last time, and the time before that, and let's not even talk about the time before that."
"It would still be Christmas if nobody celebrated it." It merely wouldn't feel like it very much, without any gifts or cards or trees - a bit like being a queen without a crown or a throne or even a country, except not quite, because a queen is something other people make you, while Christmas simply is.
"Well, no sense is hanging around all droopy and waiting for disaster to strike."
Susan wonders if she'll be able to find a scarf in any of the shops here, and whether she'll be able to hide it somewhere on the TARDIS for five days.