Fic: Walks Through Walls (Doctor Who, Sixth Doctor, Erimem, various other companions)
Here is my belated sixathon entry, finally done! Many thanks go to elliptic_eye who is great at punctuating dialogue and at finding weird phrasings and such. Thank you!
Title: Walks Through Walls
Author: Eve11
Word count: ~4000
Summary: "Just remember, Doctor. In the midst of the whirlwind, Peladon will always welcome you."
Written for: philosophercat
The prompt I used was: Six buys Erimem a new cat
====
The last audience of the day at the court of Peladon came unannounced, at the heels of long negotiations with the Endosian expedition's scientific advisors. Quite literally, at the heels. Erimem was still attending the delegation's request for cesium fuel cells for the long-range transport ships when the main chamber door burst open, admitting a contrite custodian hurrying after a most peculiar guest.
"Apologies for the interjection, your Majesty!" Blond curls bounced in indignation as the man strode confidently into the room. From her vantage point at the head of the meeting hall, it took Erimem a moment to comprehend that he was wearing an incomprehensible patchwork coat. "I couldn't help but overhear--"
"He was practically ears to the door, Majesty!" the custodian said.
"Oh, be quiet. This is important." The newcomer adjusted what looked--of all things--like a covered market basket at the crook of his arm, and leveled a glare at the Endosian scientific contingent. "Cesium fuel cells? When solar sails will halve the risk at one third the cost?"
Meleska Dal, who until this time had been the most vocal fuel-cell proponent, shook her head. "My Queen, must we entertain this--?"
"Now, you see, that is exactly my question!" The man pointed an accusing finger at the Endosian.
Meleska stood abruptly. "Who is this--this, interloping buffoon?"
"Buffoon? Advocating cesium fuel in this day and age show scientific negligence bordering on the criminal--!"
"Enough!"
Erimem's command echoed through the ensuing silence.
"Meleska--" the queen began.
She was interrupted by a piteous mewling. All eyes turned to the newcomer, who opened the basket on his arm and directed a hurried, "Hush now!" at its contents.
"Meleska," Erimem continued. "As our . . . unorthodox visitor suggests, Pelleas and I are quite aware of your family's connections to the Cesium refineries on Ontox. We wish to aid the trisilicate expedition with both funds and colonists, but we will not be responsible for putting our citizens--or yours, as it stands--at needless risk."
"My Queen--" Meleska said, but Erimem held up a hand.
"We are growing tired of your constant petitioning on this subject. This audience is over. Our decision on solar sails is final."
"Mmm-hmm, there, you see?" the stranger said.
"And that's quite enough from you!" Erimem exclaimed.
The basket mewed again, and the stranger had the sense to look sheepish. As the Endosians filed out of the hall, he set it down and carefully extracted a protesting, tabby gray kitten, cradling it against his garish chest.
Erimem leveled her gaze at the man, who took her scrutiny in stride.
"I am sorry for my haste, your Majesty. Though I shan't apologize for my social conscience, I do admit in this case it may have been slightly . . . precipitous. As I should have guessed, your Majesty had the situation quite well in hand, and, may I say, well done on that!"
Erimem said nothing. The stranger cleared his throat.
"I had meant only to deliver a gift." He held the kitten forward, which caused it to latch its claws into whatever fabric it could find, all the while mewling sadly. "May I present Anhur Mshai, given freely to the Queen of Peladon on behalf of her long-standing allies from the ancient families of Earth."
"That is quite a title for one so tiny, but I find it befits the circumstances." Erimem smiled. "Wouldn't you agree, Doctor?"
"Yes, I--What?" The Doctor looked up in surprise as Erimem came across the hall to greet him. "Oh, Erimem! How did you know it was me?"
"Pelleas has shown me several portraits of you, from your earlier visits to Peladon," she said, rescuing the kitten from its precarious position clinging to the Doctor's sleeve. Mshai quickly settled in the crook of her arm.
"I daresay, none as dashing as I am now?" The Doctor smoothed his lapels and straightened his mismatched cuffs.
She stepped back, eyeing him from head to foot with mock scrutiny. "Not as such," she finally decided. "Although I did learn to look beyond appearances when you come to call. But you know you need not be a stranger here, Doctor, especially to me."
"Well, in my experience, my former companions aren't always as bright as you are. It can make reunions difficult," the Doctor said as Erimem ushered him out of the meeting hall.
She studied the Doctor's manner as they walked. Though at the outset he had seemed very self-assured, there was a small undercurrent of defensive precaution in his eyes. When she and Peri had traveled with him, he had always taught them to study the landscape, learn the exits, and be prepared to make a quick departure. It was both disconcerting and dismaying to be at the receiving end of such preparations.
"I think it may be more complicated than you say," she said. "Or than you are willing to discuss."
"I'll explain later," the Doctor said.
"And will you explain why you have come to visit now?"
The Doctor didn't answer. They stopped at a large arched window to watch the sun sink below the far hills. Mshai mewled loudly at the change of pace, but soon settled into an enthusiastic purr. Erimem stroked the soft fur on his forehead, and broke the silence.
"For me, it has been four years since we parted. I must admit to some small amount of curiosity. I had hoped both you and Peri would come for the wedding, at least."
"I've come to fulfill an obligation."
"For Antronak?" Erimem asked, recalling the pet cat she had brought with her upon first joining Peri and the Doctor. "It seems so long ago, now."
His response was quick, almost opportunistic. "Well, I've gained an affinity for felines of late. You lost Antronak while in my care, and when we found this stowaway--"
"We?" Erimem said, hopeful. "Is Peri still traveling with you? Is she here?"
He was taken aback, unprepared. "She . . . It's . . . I'll--"
Erimem's heart sank. "You'll explain later?"
"She's well, Erimem," the Doctor said, frustration and empathy in his eyes. "And it's complicated. Time travel makes reunions tricky things to navigate, you know."
Erimem looked at the Doctor, so changed, and down at the kitten in her arms. For the first time she wondered from where and when, in all of the vastness of time and space, Anhur Mshai had come.
"Imagine, that I'd forget so quickly what life in the TARDIS was like," she said. "I do not regret traveling with you, Doctor, but neither do I regret leaving when I did."
"Hmph. I shall choose not to interpret that as an indictment of my current incarnation."
"In fact, I think it suits you quite well." Erimem gave a mischievous smile. "Especially your coat."
"You like it?" The Doctor sounded pleasantly surprised.
"Doctor, I was raised to believe that, with preservation in a single, silent moment, my ancestors would live forever. But I think you cheat death better than the pharaohs ever could." She brushed a finger along his lapel. "Your enchantment is every moment. A whirlwind patchwork of every moment. It's exhilarating, dizzying--"
"Better by far than beige and celery!" the Doctor added, stepping back and spinning on his heel to show off the full effect.
Erimem laughed as they set off again. "Just remember, Doctor. In the midst of the whirlwind, Peladon will always welcome you."
"Thank you," said the Doctor. And sometime among a flurry of servants and family members, a kitten's escape and recapture, dinner plans and talk of yet another portrait for the great hall, he discreetly disappeared.
====
The TARDIS was erratic on her good days, and if there was one constant to the Doctor's personality across his incarnations, it was spontaneity. Erimem understood this. As much as it hurt to accept, she also understood that when it came to the Doctor, she could harbor no expectations.
He did stop by again, specifically to apologize for "leaving so abruptly," and to ask if the kitten was settling in. Only Anhur Mshai was fourteen by then, and the Doctor had abruptly come and gone half a dozen times in the interim.
**
"It looks nothing like me."
"No, look there! They even got your hair right--all flyaway and crazy. How'd they do that?"
The argument echoed through the corridors as Erimem rushed toward the portrait hall. She'd left so quickly after the guards announced the mysterious appearance of a "blue wardrobe," she still held baby Cassia in her arms.
"What? Rubbish!"
She recognized that voice--bombastic and unmistakable, but the other was unfamiliar; a soft, male voice with a flatter accent that reminded Erimem more of Peri than of the Doctor's usual tones.
"Take it from a professional, Doc. It's a pretty good likeness."
"Frobisher, just because you're a mesomorph doesn't mean you have any appreciation for two-dimensional reproductions!"
"Oh yeah? So, tell me"--there was the strangest sound, like a heavy leather coat being turned inside out and heartily shaken, and the voice that continued was now indistinguishable from the one arguing with it--"just how much time do you spend looking in mirrors?"
"Now, that's not fair!"
"Doctor!" Erimem turned the corner to see the TARDIS parked next to the portrait Pelleas had insisted on commissioning. She stopped short. "Doctors?"
The two identical figures turned.
"Hello Erimem!" said one.
The other one looked from the queen, to the baby princess in her arms, and around the stonework of the portrait hall. "Oh no, Doc," he said. "I don't like the look of this at all."
"Don't be ridiculous. This is Peladon." The first Doctor turned to Erimem, apologetic. "We've had a rather trying few days, and I thought perhaps--as you had said, well--"
He was interrupted by a shout from the nearest guard, as with the same strange shuffling noise, the second Doctor transformed in front of everyone's eyes. He rubbed his resulting stubby wings together, anxiously.
"Nice castle. You're sure nobody here wants to worship any large talking penguins?"
**
The portrait lasted several more years, until it was destroyed in an improbable collision with a double-decker bus.
"Oh . . . oh ecky thump! I ran him right through," the driver said. Standing amid the wreckage, her floppy hat torn in a few places and crushed in the rest, she smoothed the painting's ripped canvas pieces with an over-sized coat sleeve in an attempt to set them back across the frame.
The guards looked to Erimem. Apparently, it was the Queen's duty to engage bedraggled madwomen when they materialized within the castle walls.
"Who are you?" she finally said. "State your business!"
"I shouldn't've come," the woman sobbed, clutching the portrait to her chest. "He won't want me following him everywhere he goes."
The Doctor had arrived alone only the night before, seeking simple peace and quiet. He'd affected cheer, but Erimem could tell his contemplations ran deep. Before she could ask after him, or after Peri or his other companions, he had sequestered himself in a far tower with only Mshai for company. Truth be told, Erimem wasn't sure she wanted to hear the answers.
The woman gathered the length of her coat and picked her way back toward the bus.
"Oh, lovey, don't tell him I came after him. He'll be all right, won't he? He says, 'Iris, I'm always all right,' all airs like he is, whenever I bug him about it. But I still worry."
She paused at the thin red door, noticing the ruined portrait still in her grasp. "I'll . . . just take this with me," she added, and disappeared up the stairs with a woeful attempt at grace.
Erimem sighed, waving the guards off of alert.
"He was never fond of it, anyway," she said, watching the bus dematerialize.
**
Sometimes the notion of visiting, rather than saving all of creation in one life-or-death moment, seemed to require a few days of adjustment.
"Erimem!" the Doctor called, storming across the veranda toward the TARDIS. "Come quickly."
Erimem looked up from the game that Melanie had arranged before them on the patio table. It was supposed to teach entrepreneurial skill, but it seemed strange to pay more for a set of planks across the sand than a railroad. "Is something wrong, Doctor?" she asked.
"Yes, it's your son! Come on!"
"Hector?" Erimem asked. Game forgotten, she followed after the Doctor, trying to suppress her panic. He was slightly favoring his left side as he walked. A hundred scenarios skimmed through her mind, each worse than the last.
Her first step inside the TARDIS after a twelve year absence was dizzying; the console room was exactly the same as when she'd left. "What is it? Do we need to fight? Or is it his past? His future?"
"It's his vocabulary!" The Doctor rummaged around underneath the console, finally coming up with a battered dictionary in hand. "I merely told the child he was quite an inquisitive interlocutor, and he kicked me in the shin. I -- Ow! What the blazes was that for?"
"You have to ask?" Mel said from the doorway.
The Doctor winced and rubbed the other shin. "Well, now I know where Hector learned it."
**
Once, a Doctor from the distant future arrived with a blonde, vivacious girl by the name of Charley Pollard. They were just in time for the three-day celebration in honor of the maiden colonial voyage to the Endosian mine worlds.
"Erimemushinteperem," he said, testing the name as though cracking open an old book left too long on a library shelf. Then, like the flick of a switch, his face lit up with a smile and he stepped forward and gave her a fierce hug. "Erimem! So good to see you. And I must say, this go around, my timing for parties is impeccable."
His companion laughed, teasing him with tales of past misadventures.
She never once mentioned blond curls or a patchwork coat. Nor did he. So it was strange that the next time Charlotte Pollard arrived on Peladon, she accompanied its more familiar house guest. Stranger still to Erimem was the spark of recognition in Charley's eyes upon their introduction.
"We have met before," Erimem said.
"What?" The recognition turned to fear, and Charley stammered. "No, I don't think so."
The Doctor seemed resigned to his concern. "A visit in your past and our future, perhaps?"
"You must be right," Charley said, giving Erimem a wary eye. "And we can't discuss future events, now can we?"
When Erimem tried to broach the subject with the Doctor later that evening, he told her the same.
"I don't tell you about your future, Erimem, so kindly refrain from telling me about mine."
"But I don't trust her."
"Nor do I." The night was clear, and the Doctor stared up at the stars. "I think I should like to. I'm certain she's merely an anomaly and not a threat."
"I fear she's hiding something," Erimem said. "It could be dangerous."
He looked back at Erimem. "Whatever it is, I think . . . I think she just wants to stay. With me." He sounded as though he couldn't believe the thought of it.
Erimem's thoughts turned to the girl with the easy laugh, so happy, so far in the future.
"No one stays forever," she said.
The Doctor sighed. "She would."
The next morning, they were gone. Erimem never saw Charlotte Pollard again.
**
"So there are no plots, or uprisings, or invasions to deal with?"
"No, Doctor Smythe--"
"Please, call me Evelyn."
"Evelyn," Erimem continued as the other woman sipped her tea. "Peladon is at peace, and nothing untoward is upon us."
"Thank heaven for that," said Evelyn. "First, we were in the Crimea. Then we popped forward to the Dalek invasion. Then, we popped back to see how it all started. Then, we popped forward even farther to stop an insurgency that we may just have caused. Then, back again."
Erimem laughed. "Yes, I know the feeling."
"I finally had to tell him, 'Doctor, I'm not a yo-yo.' And then he said, 'I know just the place.' And we landed here. It's a beautiful spring. Everything is quite lovely."
Erimem frowned at her teacup. "There is my fiftieth birthday next week. That does not sound so lovely."
This time, Evelyn laughed. "Yes, I know the feeling."
"Sometimes, I think about traveling again," Erimem said. "But I don't think I could. Not now."
They looked across the veranda at the TARDIS and its conspicuous pilot, whose biggest adventure at the moment was being chased by a toddler wearing a hastily constructed Aggedor costume.
"I think time travel is easier to do when you're very young." Evelyn paused, and added, "Or in some ways, I suppose it's easier when you're very old."
"It is a good thing, then, that the Doctor always seems to be both." Erimem leaned conspiratorially forward, grinning. "You know, I think Peri fancied him for the longest time."
Evelyn looked up. "Oh? Who's Peri, a friend of yours?"
====
The winter sun was bright but distant when Erimem awoke. She sat up slowly, waving the servants away from her bedside but accepting the hot washcloths, creams, soaps, and mint tea they offered as a morning constitutional. Her legs cramped in the cold as she washed and dressed. Neshua helped her from her bed to her chair under protest, but in truth Erimem knew she lacked the strength to make it on her own today. They both knew the morning routine came a bit later, and took a bit longer, now that Pelleas was gone. They both noticed how Neshua refrained from chiding her about the lateness of the hour.
In her sitting room, Erimem listened with half an ear to Cassia's news of the court and current events.
"So now, the trisilicate miners' union wants to know the effects on production if we salt a trade agreement with the Endosian colonists, and--Mother? Why are you smiling?"
Erimem studied her daughter, sitting straight and regal at the edge of the settee, the challenges of the day wrought on her face as much as her determination and confidence in addressing them.
"No reason," she said, "but that I'm sure you will handle the situation admirably."
Cassia softened. "You won't be making an appearance today, I suppose?"
"Not today." Erimem waved a hand, her eyes drifting toward the firelight.
She dozed to the sounds of the day. Slow and steady servant's footsteps accompanied by clinking stoneware and teacups. The occasional cyclone of pounding feet, shouts and calamity as her great-grandchildren chased each other through the family's private rooms. Hector's low tones--so much like his father, recounting the forest hunt as he piled logs onto the crackling fire.
A great wheezing groan, wind pricking the hair on her arms, and Neshua's surprised cry as a teacup shattered on the floor.
Erimem blinked awake to see the battered blue box thunk into shape in the corner of the sitting room. She barely had time to keep Neshua from fleeing to alert the palace guards before the TARDIS door opened, admitting a familiar patchwork-clad figure talking at a sandstorm's pace.
"Hello, Erimem! Please, you've no cause for alarm, or ah, arm-breaking, as aside from gaining a certain sartorial elegance and an affinity for felines, I can assure you that I am most definitely the--"
He caught sight of her and stopped, mouth half-open in surprise.
"Hello, Doctor," Erimem said.
"What? But," the Doctor absurdly pulled a fob watch from his pocket as if to check the time. "What year is it? Oh, blast it!"
"Erimem?" An achingly familiar voice echoed from beyond the TARDIS door, growing more excited and clear as it continued. "As it happens, we found a stowaway on the TARDIS after saving Mexico City from some Blight aliens, and the Doctor's in a hurry to get to some mysterious planet called Ravenlox or something but I convinced him you could give this little guy a home--"
"No, wait, Peri!" The Doctor turned sharply back toward the TARDIS door, but it was already too late. There was her old friend standing before her, too solid to be an apparition, and far, far too young to see her now.
"Peri," Erimem said, sounding weak even to her own ears. Her heart beat as if breaking.
Peri brought a hand to her mouth, the small covered basket at the crook of her arm forgotten. "Doctor, what's going on?"
"Peri, I--" the Doctor began, but could find no more words.
Erimem steeled herself in her chair, fighting to speak against the weight of years that Peri had yet to live.
"It's all right, Peri," she said, coaxing her shocked and frightened friend forward to the settee. "It appears the Doctor made a slight mis-calculation of the time stream co-ordinates. I see his navigational skills are no better in this incarnation than the last."
"Doctor?" Peri stammered.
Erimem narrowed her eyes at the still-stymied Doctor. "Or has he been at the ginger beer again?"
"Erimem!" the Doctor scolded, but the Royal Queen Mother of Peladon simply laughed.
"It is difficult to forget such an experience, even after all these years, Doctor."
"Erimem?" Peri asked. "It's you?"
"Yes. Oh, Peri, I've missed you."
Her smile must have kindled a memory, because Peri laughed, steeling her nerves through her tears as she always did on their old adventures.
"A drinking game with Shakespeare lost us two years in a TARDIS hiccup," she said, sniffling. "Can you imagine the bender he'd need to go on to lose--what is it, sixty?"
"Well, of all the outlandish insinuations--" the Doctor started.
"Shoo!" they said in unison, and the Doctor slunk away, muttering something about a better chance of staying in one piece while visiting Aggedor.
Alone, Erimem took her friend's hand. The years crept up again between them, and they both cried in earnest. When the Doctor returned, Erimem took the tiny tabby kitten that was sleeping on her lap and, hands trembling, packed him back into the basket. Peri closed the top and kissed her friend on the cheek.
"I--" she started, fighting tears again. "I could come back. Earlier, I mean, to see you before . . . well, I might need some time. I suppose you know for sure, don't you?"
"I suppose I do," Erimem said.
The spark of fear in Peri's eyes made her seem so much more a distant ghost. Erimem couldn't fault her friend; as much as she had loved her adventures in the TARDIS, they had overlain a constant urgency that begged not to be examined. Never stay in one place long enough to learn the side streets. Never linger long enough to feel the pulse of time, to remember that despite the Doctor's best-cast illusions, it was always moving forward.
In the TARDIS, life was endless. Boundless. And you never felt the whirlwind until it suddenly stopped around you.
"Good-bye, Erimem," Peri said softly.
"Good-bye, Peri."
The Doctor ushered Peri into the TARDIS before turning around.
"Erimem, I'm so sorry--" he started.
"It's already written," she answered, feeling a chill. She was suddenly bone weary in the dim room. "And I understand now, Doctor, why you might be reluctant to revisit past acquaintances."
"Indeed. Be well, Erimem."
"Anhur Mshai, Doctor."
He raised an eyebrow, looking theatrically smug. "Quite an august title, my Queen."
Erimem laughed. "The kitten. I think it is as fitting a name for him as for you."
"The traveler unites distant friends," the Doctor translated from the Egyptian, and paused. He shed his bravado with a remorseful sigh. "I don't suppose he's any better at it than I am?"
"There's time yet." Erimem watched the Doctor step past the covered market basket that had sat for decades beside the hearth. It was half-open now, holding only a collection of dried summer flowers. "I think Peri will insist your traveler still finds a home."
====
**
Title: Walks Through Walls
Author: Eve11
Word count: ~4000
Summary: "Just remember, Doctor. In the midst of the whirlwind, Peladon will always welcome you."
Written for: philosophercat
The prompt I used was: Six buys Erimem a new cat
====
The last audience of the day at the court of Peladon came unannounced, at the heels of long negotiations with the Endosian expedition's scientific advisors. Quite literally, at the heels. Erimem was still attending the delegation's request for cesium fuel cells for the long-range transport ships when the main chamber door burst open, admitting a contrite custodian hurrying after a most peculiar guest.
"Apologies for the interjection, your Majesty!" Blond curls bounced in indignation as the man strode confidently into the room. From her vantage point at the head of the meeting hall, it took Erimem a moment to comprehend that he was wearing an incomprehensible patchwork coat. "I couldn't help but overhear--"
"He was practically ears to the door, Majesty!" the custodian said.
"Oh, be quiet. This is important." The newcomer adjusted what looked--of all things--like a covered market basket at the crook of his arm, and leveled a glare at the Endosian scientific contingent. "Cesium fuel cells? When solar sails will halve the risk at one third the cost?"
Meleska Dal, who until this time had been the most vocal fuel-cell proponent, shook her head. "My Queen, must we entertain this--?"
"Now, you see, that is exactly my question!" The man pointed an accusing finger at the Endosian.
Meleska stood abruptly. "Who is this--this, interloping buffoon?"
"Buffoon? Advocating cesium fuel in this day and age show scientific negligence bordering on the criminal--!"
"Enough!"
Erimem's command echoed through the ensuing silence.
"Meleska--" the queen began.
She was interrupted by a piteous mewling. All eyes turned to the newcomer, who opened the basket on his arm and directed a hurried, "Hush now!" at its contents.
"Meleska," Erimem continued. "As our . . . unorthodox visitor suggests, Pelleas and I are quite aware of your family's connections to the Cesium refineries on Ontox. We wish to aid the trisilicate expedition with both funds and colonists, but we will not be responsible for putting our citizens--or yours, as it stands--at needless risk."
"My Queen--" Meleska said, but Erimem held up a hand.
"We are growing tired of your constant petitioning on this subject. This audience is over. Our decision on solar sails is final."
"Mmm-hmm, there, you see?" the stranger said.
"And that's quite enough from you!" Erimem exclaimed.
The basket mewed again, and the stranger had the sense to look sheepish. As the Endosians filed out of the hall, he set it down and carefully extracted a protesting, tabby gray kitten, cradling it against his garish chest.
Erimem leveled her gaze at the man, who took her scrutiny in stride.
"I am sorry for my haste, your Majesty. Though I shan't apologize for my social conscience, I do admit in this case it may have been slightly . . . precipitous. As I should have guessed, your Majesty had the situation quite well in hand, and, may I say, well done on that!"
Erimem said nothing. The stranger cleared his throat.
"I had meant only to deliver a gift." He held the kitten forward, which caused it to latch its claws into whatever fabric it could find, all the while mewling sadly. "May I present Anhur Mshai, given freely to the Queen of Peladon on behalf of her long-standing allies from the ancient families of Earth."
"That is quite a title for one so tiny, but I find it befits the circumstances." Erimem smiled. "Wouldn't you agree, Doctor?"
"Yes, I--What?" The Doctor looked up in surprise as Erimem came across the hall to greet him. "Oh, Erimem! How did you know it was me?"
"Pelleas has shown me several portraits of you, from your earlier visits to Peladon," she said, rescuing the kitten from its precarious position clinging to the Doctor's sleeve. Mshai quickly settled in the crook of her arm.
"I daresay, none as dashing as I am now?" The Doctor smoothed his lapels and straightened his mismatched cuffs.
She stepped back, eyeing him from head to foot with mock scrutiny. "Not as such," she finally decided. "Although I did learn to look beyond appearances when you come to call. But you know you need not be a stranger here, Doctor, especially to me."
"Well, in my experience, my former companions aren't always as bright as you are. It can make reunions difficult," the Doctor said as Erimem ushered him out of the meeting hall.
She studied the Doctor's manner as they walked. Though at the outset he had seemed very self-assured, there was a small undercurrent of defensive precaution in his eyes. When she and Peri had traveled with him, he had always taught them to study the landscape, learn the exits, and be prepared to make a quick departure. It was both disconcerting and dismaying to be at the receiving end of such preparations.
"I think it may be more complicated than you say," she said. "Or than you are willing to discuss."
"I'll explain later," the Doctor said.
"And will you explain why you have come to visit now?"
The Doctor didn't answer. They stopped at a large arched window to watch the sun sink below the far hills. Mshai mewled loudly at the change of pace, but soon settled into an enthusiastic purr. Erimem stroked the soft fur on his forehead, and broke the silence.
"For me, it has been four years since we parted. I must admit to some small amount of curiosity. I had hoped both you and Peri would come for the wedding, at least."
"I've come to fulfill an obligation."
"For Antronak?" Erimem asked, recalling the pet cat she had brought with her upon first joining Peri and the Doctor. "It seems so long ago, now."
His response was quick, almost opportunistic. "Well, I've gained an affinity for felines of late. You lost Antronak while in my care, and when we found this stowaway--"
"We?" Erimem said, hopeful. "Is Peri still traveling with you? Is she here?"
He was taken aback, unprepared. "She . . . It's . . . I'll--"
Erimem's heart sank. "You'll explain later?"
"She's well, Erimem," the Doctor said, frustration and empathy in his eyes. "And it's complicated. Time travel makes reunions tricky things to navigate, you know."
Erimem looked at the Doctor, so changed, and down at the kitten in her arms. For the first time she wondered from where and when, in all of the vastness of time and space, Anhur Mshai had come.
"Imagine, that I'd forget so quickly what life in the TARDIS was like," she said. "I do not regret traveling with you, Doctor, but neither do I regret leaving when I did."
"Hmph. I shall choose not to interpret that as an indictment of my current incarnation."
"In fact, I think it suits you quite well." Erimem gave a mischievous smile. "Especially your coat."
"You like it?" The Doctor sounded pleasantly surprised.
"Doctor, I was raised to believe that, with preservation in a single, silent moment, my ancestors would live forever. But I think you cheat death better than the pharaohs ever could." She brushed a finger along his lapel. "Your enchantment is every moment. A whirlwind patchwork of every moment. It's exhilarating, dizzying--"
"Better by far than beige and celery!" the Doctor added, stepping back and spinning on his heel to show off the full effect.
Erimem laughed as they set off again. "Just remember, Doctor. In the midst of the whirlwind, Peladon will always welcome you."
"Thank you," said the Doctor. And sometime among a flurry of servants and family members, a kitten's escape and recapture, dinner plans and talk of yet another portrait for the great hall, he discreetly disappeared.
====
The TARDIS was erratic on her good days, and if there was one constant to the Doctor's personality across his incarnations, it was spontaneity. Erimem understood this. As much as it hurt to accept, she also understood that when it came to the Doctor, she could harbor no expectations.
He did stop by again, specifically to apologize for "leaving so abruptly," and to ask if the kitten was settling in. Only Anhur Mshai was fourteen by then, and the Doctor had abruptly come and gone half a dozen times in the interim.
**
"It looks nothing like me."
"No, look there! They even got your hair right--all flyaway and crazy. How'd they do that?"
The argument echoed through the corridors as Erimem rushed toward the portrait hall. She'd left so quickly after the guards announced the mysterious appearance of a "blue wardrobe," she still held baby Cassia in her arms.
"What? Rubbish!"
She recognized that voice--bombastic and unmistakable, but the other was unfamiliar; a soft, male voice with a flatter accent that reminded Erimem more of Peri than of the Doctor's usual tones.
"Take it from a professional, Doc. It's a pretty good likeness."
"Frobisher, just because you're a mesomorph doesn't mean you have any appreciation for two-dimensional reproductions!"
"Oh yeah? So, tell me"--there was the strangest sound, like a heavy leather coat being turned inside out and heartily shaken, and the voice that continued was now indistinguishable from the one arguing with it--"just how much time do you spend looking in mirrors?"
"Now, that's not fair!"
"Doctor!" Erimem turned the corner to see the TARDIS parked next to the portrait Pelleas had insisted on commissioning. She stopped short. "Doctors?"
The two identical figures turned.
"Hello Erimem!" said one.
The other one looked from the queen, to the baby princess in her arms, and around the stonework of the portrait hall. "Oh no, Doc," he said. "I don't like the look of this at all."
"Don't be ridiculous. This is Peladon." The first Doctor turned to Erimem, apologetic. "We've had a rather trying few days, and I thought perhaps--as you had said, well--"
He was interrupted by a shout from the nearest guard, as with the same strange shuffling noise, the second Doctor transformed in front of everyone's eyes. He rubbed his resulting stubby wings together, anxiously.
"Nice castle. You're sure nobody here wants to worship any large talking penguins?"
**
The portrait lasted several more years, until it was destroyed in an improbable collision with a double-decker bus.
"Oh . . . oh ecky thump! I ran him right through," the driver said. Standing amid the wreckage, her floppy hat torn in a few places and crushed in the rest, she smoothed the painting's ripped canvas pieces with an over-sized coat sleeve in an attempt to set them back across the frame.
The guards looked to Erimem. Apparently, it was the Queen's duty to engage bedraggled madwomen when they materialized within the castle walls.
"Who are you?" she finally said. "State your business!"
"I shouldn't've come," the woman sobbed, clutching the portrait to her chest. "He won't want me following him everywhere he goes."
The Doctor had arrived alone only the night before, seeking simple peace and quiet. He'd affected cheer, but Erimem could tell his contemplations ran deep. Before she could ask after him, or after Peri or his other companions, he had sequestered himself in a far tower with only Mshai for company. Truth be told, Erimem wasn't sure she wanted to hear the answers.
The woman gathered the length of her coat and picked her way back toward the bus.
"Oh, lovey, don't tell him I came after him. He'll be all right, won't he? He says, 'Iris, I'm always all right,' all airs like he is, whenever I bug him about it. But I still worry."
She paused at the thin red door, noticing the ruined portrait still in her grasp. "I'll . . . just take this with me," she added, and disappeared up the stairs with a woeful attempt at grace.
Erimem sighed, waving the guards off of alert.
"He was never fond of it, anyway," she said, watching the bus dematerialize.
**
Sometimes the notion of visiting, rather than saving all of creation in one life-or-death moment, seemed to require a few days of adjustment.
"Erimem!" the Doctor called, storming across the veranda toward the TARDIS. "Come quickly."
Erimem looked up from the game that Melanie had arranged before them on the patio table. It was supposed to teach entrepreneurial skill, but it seemed strange to pay more for a set of planks across the sand than a railroad. "Is something wrong, Doctor?" she asked.
"Yes, it's your son! Come on!"
"Hector?" Erimem asked. Game forgotten, she followed after the Doctor, trying to suppress her panic. He was slightly favoring his left side as he walked. A hundred scenarios skimmed through her mind, each worse than the last.
Her first step inside the TARDIS after a twelve year absence was dizzying; the console room was exactly the same as when she'd left. "What is it? Do we need to fight? Or is it his past? His future?"
"It's his vocabulary!" The Doctor rummaged around underneath the console, finally coming up with a battered dictionary in hand. "I merely told the child he was quite an inquisitive interlocutor, and he kicked me in the shin. I -- Ow! What the blazes was that for?"
"You have to ask?" Mel said from the doorway.
The Doctor winced and rubbed the other shin. "Well, now I know where Hector learned it."
**
Once, a Doctor from the distant future arrived with a blonde, vivacious girl by the name of Charley Pollard. They were just in time for the three-day celebration in honor of the maiden colonial voyage to the Endosian mine worlds.
"Erimemushinteperem," he said, testing the name as though cracking open an old book left too long on a library shelf. Then, like the flick of a switch, his face lit up with a smile and he stepped forward and gave her a fierce hug. "Erimem! So good to see you. And I must say, this go around, my timing for parties is impeccable."
His companion laughed, teasing him with tales of past misadventures.
She never once mentioned blond curls or a patchwork coat. Nor did he. So it was strange that the next time Charlotte Pollard arrived on Peladon, she accompanied its more familiar house guest. Stranger still to Erimem was the spark of recognition in Charley's eyes upon their introduction.
"We have met before," Erimem said.
"What?" The recognition turned to fear, and Charley stammered. "No, I don't think so."
The Doctor seemed resigned to his concern. "A visit in your past and our future, perhaps?"
"You must be right," Charley said, giving Erimem a wary eye. "And we can't discuss future events, now can we?"
When Erimem tried to broach the subject with the Doctor later that evening, he told her the same.
"I don't tell you about your future, Erimem, so kindly refrain from telling me about mine."
"But I don't trust her."
"Nor do I." The night was clear, and the Doctor stared up at the stars. "I think I should like to. I'm certain she's merely an anomaly and not a threat."
"I fear she's hiding something," Erimem said. "It could be dangerous."
He looked back at Erimem. "Whatever it is, I think . . . I think she just wants to stay. With me." He sounded as though he couldn't believe the thought of it.
Erimem's thoughts turned to the girl with the easy laugh, so happy, so far in the future.
"No one stays forever," she said.
The Doctor sighed. "She would."
The next morning, they were gone. Erimem never saw Charlotte Pollard again.
**
"So there are no plots, or uprisings, or invasions to deal with?"
"No, Doctor Smythe--"
"Please, call me Evelyn."
"Evelyn," Erimem continued as the other woman sipped her tea. "Peladon is at peace, and nothing untoward is upon us."
"Thank heaven for that," said Evelyn. "First, we were in the Crimea. Then we popped forward to the Dalek invasion. Then, we popped back to see how it all started. Then, we popped forward even farther to stop an insurgency that we may just have caused. Then, back again."
Erimem laughed. "Yes, I know the feeling."
"I finally had to tell him, 'Doctor, I'm not a yo-yo.' And then he said, 'I know just the place.' And we landed here. It's a beautiful spring. Everything is quite lovely."
Erimem frowned at her teacup. "There is my fiftieth birthday next week. That does not sound so lovely."
This time, Evelyn laughed. "Yes, I know the feeling."
"Sometimes, I think about traveling again," Erimem said. "But I don't think I could. Not now."
They looked across the veranda at the TARDIS and its conspicuous pilot, whose biggest adventure at the moment was being chased by a toddler wearing a hastily constructed Aggedor costume.
"I think time travel is easier to do when you're very young." Evelyn paused, and added, "Or in some ways, I suppose it's easier when you're very old."
"It is a good thing, then, that the Doctor always seems to be both." Erimem leaned conspiratorially forward, grinning. "You know, I think Peri fancied him for the longest time."
Evelyn looked up. "Oh? Who's Peri, a friend of yours?"
====
The winter sun was bright but distant when Erimem awoke. She sat up slowly, waving the servants away from her bedside but accepting the hot washcloths, creams, soaps, and mint tea they offered as a morning constitutional. Her legs cramped in the cold as she washed and dressed. Neshua helped her from her bed to her chair under protest, but in truth Erimem knew she lacked the strength to make it on her own today. They both knew the morning routine came a bit later, and took a bit longer, now that Pelleas was gone. They both noticed how Neshua refrained from chiding her about the lateness of the hour.
In her sitting room, Erimem listened with half an ear to Cassia's news of the court and current events.
"So now, the trisilicate miners' union wants to know the effects on production if we salt a trade agreement with the Endosian colonists, and--Mother? Why are you smiling?"
Erimem studied her daughter, sitting straight and regal at the edge of the settee, the challenges of the day wrought on her face as much as her determination and confidence in addressing them.
"No reason," she said, "but that I'm sure you will handle the situation admirably."
Cassia softened. "You won't be making an appearance today, I suppose?"
"Not today." Erimem waved a hand, her eyes drifting toward the firelight.
She dozed to the sounds of the day. Slow and steady servant's footsteps accompanied by clinking stoneware and teacups. The occasional cyclone of pounding feet, shouts and calamity as her great-grandchildren chased each other through the family's private rooms. Hector's low tones--so much like his father, recounting the forest hunt as he piled logs onto the crackling fire.
A great wheezing groan, wind pricking the hair on her arms, and Neshua's surprised cry as a teacup shattered on the floor.
Erimem blinked awake to see the battered blue box thunk into shape in the corner of the sitting room. She barely had time to keep Neshua from fleeing to alert the palace guards before the TARDIS door opened, admitting a familiar patchwork-clad figure talking at a sandstorm's pace.
"Hello, Erimem! Please, you've no cause for alarm, or ah, arm-breaking, as aside from gaining a certain sartorial elegance and an affinity for felines, I can assure you that I am most definitely the--"
He caught sight of her and stopped, mouth half-open in surprise.
"Hello, Doctor," Erimem said.
"What? But," the Doctor absurdly pulled a fob watch from his pocket as if to check the time. "What year is it? Oh, blast it!"
"Erimem?" An achingly familiar voice echoed from beyond the TARDIS door, growing more excited and clear as it continued. "As it happens, we found a stowaway on the TARDIS after saving Mexico City from some Blight aliens, and the Doctor's in a hurry to get to some mysterious planet called Ravenlox or something but I convinced him you could give this little guy a home--"
"No, wait, Peri!" The Doctor turned sharply back toward the TARDIS door, but it was already too late. There was her old friend standing before her, too solid to be an apparition, and far, far too young to see her now.
"Peri," Erimem said, sounding weak even to her own ears. Her heart beat as if breaking.
Peri brought a hand to her mouth, the small covered basket at the crook of her arm forgotten. "Doctor, what's going on?"
"Peri, I--" the Doctor began, but could find no more words.
Erimem steeled herself in her chair, fighting to speak against the weight of years that Peri had yet to live.
"It's all right, Peri," she said, coaxing her shocked and frightened friend forward to the settee. "It appears the Doctor made a slight mis-calculation of the time stream co-ordinates. I see his navigational skills are no better in this incarnation than the last."
"Doctor?" Peri stammered.
Erimem narrowed her eyes at the still-stymied Doctor. "Or has he been at the ginger beer again?"
"Erimem!" the Doctor scolded, but the Royal Queen Mother of Peladon simply laughed.
"It is difficult to forget such an experience, even after all these years, Doctor."
"Erimem?" Peri asked. "It's you?"
"Yes. Oh, Peri, I've missed you."
Her smile must have kindled a memory, because Peri laughed, steeling her nerves through her tears as she always did on their old adventures.
"A drinking game with Shakespeare lost us two years in a TARDIS hiccup," she said, sniffling. "Can you imagine the bender he'd need to go on to lose--what is it, sixty?"
"Well, of all the outlandish insinuations--" the Doctor started.
"Shoo!" they said in unison, and the Doctor slunk away, muttering something about a better chance of staying in one piece while visiting Aggedor.
Alone, Erimem took her friend's hand. The years crept up again between them, and they both cried in earnest. When the Doctor returned, Erimem took the tiny tabby kitten that was sleeping on her lap and, hands trembling, packed him back into the basket. Peri closed the top and kissed her friend on the cheek.
"I--" she started, fighting tears again. "I could come back. Earlier, I mean, to see you before . . . well, I might need some time. I suppose you know for sure, don't you?"
"I suppose I do," Erimem said.
The spark of fear in Peri's eyes made her seem so much more a distant ghost. Erimem couldn't fault her friend; as much as she had loved her adventures in the TARDIS, they had overlain a constant urgency that begged not to be examined. Never stay in one place long enough to learn the side streets. Never linger long enough to feel the pulse of time, to remember that despite the Doctor's best-cast illusions, it was always moving forward.
In the TARDIS, life was endless. Boundless. And you never felt the whirlwind until it suddenly stopped around you.
"Good-bye, Erimem," Peri said softly.
"Good-bye, Peri."
The Doctor ushered Peri into the TARDIS before turning around.
"Erimem, I'm so sorry--" he started.
"It's already written," she answered, feeling a chill. She was suddenly bone weary in the dim room. "And I understand now, Doctor, why you might be reluctant to revisit past acquaintances."
"Indeed. Be well, Erimem."
"Anhur Mshai, Doctor."
He raised an eyebrow, looking theatrically smug. "Quite an august title, my Queen."
Erimem laughed. "The kitten. I think it is as fitting a name for him as for you."
"The traveler unites distant friends," the Doctor translated from the Egyptian, and paused. He shed his bravado with a remorseful sigh. "I don't suppose he's any better at it than I am?"
"There's time yet." Erimem watched the Doctor step past the covered market basket that had sat for decades beside the hearth. It was half-open now, holding only a collection of dried summer flowers. "I think Peri will insist your traveler still finds a home."
====
**