Tales, Ch. 1
Author's Notes: I'm trying something a little different, escaping from my 10/Rose obsession for a while. Inspired by a million things (ABC's Once Upon a Time, the recent TTU challenge, The Fountain, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind) but mostly, my profound belief that everything should be a fairy tale, if it isn't already.
Summary: The Doctor wakes up with a blank book of fairy stories, and must help complete them if he ever hopes to be reunited with Rose again.
Pairing: Eleven/Rose
Warnings: Sex, no shockers there
The Doctor woke up slowly, feeling the heat of the sun’s light warming his eyelids, and then his lips. He cracked one eye and squinted into the shafts of light filtering through the soft orange trees, their leaves whispering as a warm wind blew through them. Everything was bathed in a gold and amber glow. It was beautiful.
The Doctor slumped forward; only just realizing he’d fallen asleep against the trunk of a towering birch tree. As he moved, he unsettled a book that had been lying on his chest. It fell into the light yellow grass, a few pages fluttering in the wind before laying bare their contents, written in an elegant, curvilinear script. The Doctor reached for it automatically, and was struck when he examined it more closely, because he’d never read this book before. He wasn’t even sure where it had come from. As he sat up and really looked around for the first time, he knew without a doubt that he hadn’t come to this place, wherever it was, on purpose.
He closed his eyes heavily, feeling a swooning sensation work through his body, and went temporarily blind as the sun flared overhead, exploding into a thousand pinpricks of light. Suddenly, he felt a warm body beside him. Someone was turning into the crook of his arm and whispering against his neck.
“Aren’t you going to read the rest of the story?” a woman’s voice asked.
“Of course I am,” he replied in his usual dry tone, although his voice came unbidden, as if someone else were speaking through him. “I always finish what I start,” he added seductively.
The Doctor felt the woman shift and move away from him and he leaned forward, desperate to hold on to her. He craved her warmth the second it was gone, and was scared of being left alone without the ability to see. But then as if waking from another dream, he was granted his sight once again. He could just make out the woman’s body in a silhouette, backing away from him. The sun poured down behind her as the orange leaves fell and obscured her face.
“Then you’d better get started,” she teased as she tugged on a strand of her long blonde hair.
The Doctor made to follow her, picking up the worn book as an afterthought.
“Do you know where I am?” he called after her, gaining command of his voice once more.
The woman laughed as she disappeared around a tree, her long lace dress trailing after her.
“Your exactly where you should be!” she sang back.
Something in her voice was so familiar, and it tugged at his heartstrings, digging into a place that still ached for loneliness, left over from another lifetime.
It struck him then. Did he know this woman? He quickened his pace, not wanting to lose her in the thick foliage as she weaved in and out of the maze of trees. He could still hear her laugh echoing behind her, as if this was a game they’d played a hundred times.
He lost sight of her for a minute, and it terrified him more than he was willing to admit. He had to find out who she was, and why he was here. He wondered vaguely if his TARDIS was somewhere nearby, or if there had been an accident, explaining his memory loss. The woman was the only lead he had, and to lose her would be…more than he could bear.
The thought shocked him. Why was he so invested in a complete stranger? But then a scent came wafting through the air like an answer to that question, the scent of fresh flowers and vanilla, and he froze, no longer able to think straight. After all the many years gone by, there was only one perfume in the universe that could make him stop in his tracks, if not bring him to his knees.
It was her, and he was running, crashing through the forest and feeling the stray branches scratch at his face and clothes as he ran. But nothing could stop him or deter his mission until he held her in his arms once more. Suddenly, he didn’t care where he was, or why, or how, or any of those secondary questions. All that mattered was looking into her eyes one more time.
He tore through the brush and stumbled upon a vast, glistening lake. His short boots were already splashing through a foot of water before he realized it. He spun in a half-circle, and saw the vision he sought at the bank’s edge. She was standing inside a small boat, ready to push off from the shore with a long wooden paddle. She caught his eye and smiled at him.
“Rose!” her name ripped out of his throat in agony and ecstasy.
He was already trudging through the ankle-high water when he saw her smile turn down into a deeply pained expression. Her sadness was palpable as she pushed hard against the oar, and launched herself toward the middle of the lake.
“Wait!” the Doctor screamed, the panic threatening to consume him.
He had almost made it to her, if only she would wait a moment longer.
“I’m coming!” he cried.
He couldn’t let her go. Not again. He reached the place where her boat once stood and made to throw off his jacket, desperately tugging at one tweed arm, but her voice stilled him.
“You didn’t finish the rest of the story!” she called impatiently.
The wind sifted through her hair and matched the long lacy sail behind her.
“What are you talking about?” the Doctor called back, now trying to throw off his water logged shoes to make a proper go at swimming after her.
“The book!” she replied obviously.
The Doctor glanced down and saw he still had it tucked into the front of his pants.
“You have to finish the story!” she said, suddenly urgent. “It’s the only way!”
“The only way for what?” he shouted in frustration, trying to make himself heard as she drifted farther away.
He saw she was aiming at a dark spot on the horizon, where a storm was brewing ominously. He knew instinctively that she was headed toward something dangerous.
“Turn back!” he cried.
Rose peered out at him from across the lake, her quiet expression telling him in no uncertain terms that she wouldn’t, or couldn’t do so. The Doctor stopped struggling with his clothes and held out one hand, desperate to reach out to her and reestablish their broken connection.
She held up her hand too, and let one of many tears begin to fall down her face.
“It has to have a happy ending!” she cried as the storm began to break. “I hate it when they’re sad! You make it right! I know you will.”
Lightning crashed behind her tiny boat, and soon her dress was soaked with freezing rain. Her ship pitched on the tumultuous waves, threatening to topple at any second.
The Doctor glanced down toward the book, and brought it out quickly, hoping to ascertain what her meaning was before it was too late. But when he looked up again almost immediately, Rose was gone. The storm had disappeared, and only a glassy surface remained, giving no evidence that either the woman or the boat had ever existed. A choking sound emitted from his throat and he sank down to his knees in the warm water.
“Rose,” he whispered morosely.
He stared at the spot where she had once been, and then shook his head at the book in front of him. He flipped it open, hoping to find answers, and sputtered as it revealed empty pages where writing had once been. He stood up and walked back toward the shore, unable to convince himself that what he was seeing was true. The script had just been there a moment ago!
Finally, he reached the front page, where only four words remained. They shone forth from the elegant illuminated frontispiece, as if to mock his very being. He read aloud, as if to bring them to life.
“Once…upon a time…”
Next Chapter
Summary: The Doctor wakes up with a blank book of fairy stories, and must help complete them if he ever hopes to be reunited with Rose again.
Pairing: Eleven/Rose
Warnings: Sex, no shockers there
The Doctor woke up slowly, feeling the heat of the sun’s light warming his eyelids, and then his lips. He cracked one eye and squinted into the shafts of light filtering through the soft orange trees, their leaves whispering as a warm wind blew through them. Everything was bathed in a gold and amber glow. It was beautiful.
The Doctor slumped forward; only just realizing he’d fallen asleep against the trunk of a towering birch tree. As he moved, he unsettled a book that had been lying on his chest. It fell into the light yellow grass, a few pages fluttering in the wind before laying bare their contents, written in an elegant, curvilinear script. The Doctor reached for it automatically, and was struck when he examined it more closely, because he’d never read this book before. He wasn’t even sure where it had come from. As he sat up and really looked around for the first time, he knew without a doubt that he hadn’t come to this place, wherever it was, on purpose.
He closed his eyes heavily, feeling a swooning sensation work through his body, and went temporarily blind as the sun flared overhead, exploding into a thousand pinpricks of light. Suddenly, he felt a warm body beside him. Someone was turning into the crook of his arm and whispering against his neck.
“Aren’t you going to read the rest of the story?” a woman’s voice asked.
“Of course I am,” he replied in his usual dry tone, although his voice came unbidden, as if someone else were speaking through him. “I always finish what I start,” he added seductively.
The Doctor felt the woman shift and move away from him and he leaned forward, desperate to hold on to her. He craved her warmth the second it was gone, and was scared of being left alone without the ability to see. But then as if waking from another dream, he was granted his sight once again. He could just make out the woman’s body in a silhouette, backing away from him. The sun poured down behind her as the orange leaves fell and obscured her face.
“Then you’d better get started,” she teased as she tugged on a strand of her long blonde hair.
The Doctor made to follow her, picking up the worn book as an afterthought.
“Do you know where I am?” he called after her, gaining command of his voice once more.
The woman laughed as she disappeared around a tree, her long lace dress trailing after her.
“Your exactly where you should be!” she sang back.
Something in her voice was so familiar, and it tugged at his heartstrings, digging into a place that still ached for loneliness, left over from another lifetime.
It struck him then. Did he know this woman? He quickened his pace, not wanting to lose her in the thick foliage as she weaved in and out of the maze of trees. He could still hear her laugh echoing behind her, as if this was a game they’d played a hundred times.
He lost sight of her for a minute, and it terrified him more than he was willing to admit. He had to find out who she was, and why he was here. He wondered vaguely if his TARDIS was somewhere nearby, or if there had been an accident, explaining his memory loss. The woman was the only lead he had, and to lose her would be…more than he could bear.
The thought shocked him. Why was he so invested in a complete stranger? But then a scent came wafting through the air like an answer to that question, the scent of fresh flowers and vanilla, and he froze, no longer able to think straight. After all the many years gone by, there was only one perfume in the universe that could make him stop in his tracks, if not bring him to his knees.
It was her, and he was running, crashing through the forest and feeling the stray branches scratch at his face and clothes as he ran. But nothing could stop him or deter his mission until he held her in his arms once more. Suddenly, he didn’t care where he was, or why, or how, or any of those secondary questions. All that mattered was looking into her eyes one more time.
He tore through the brush and stumbled upon a vast, glistening lake. His short boots were already splashing through a foot of water before he realized it. He spun in a half-circle, and saw the vision he sought at the bank’s edge. She was standing inside a small boat, ready to push off from the shore with a long wooden paddle. She caught his eye and smiled at him.
“Rose!” her name ripped out of his throat in agony and ecstasy.
He was already trudging through the ankle-high water when he saw her smile turn down into a deeply pained expression. Her sadness was palpable as she pushed hard against the oar, and launched herself toward the middle of the lake.
“Wait!” the Doctor screamed, the panic threatening to consume him.
He had almost made it to her, if only she would wait a moment longer.
“I’m coming!” he cried.
He couldn’t let her go. Not again. He reached the place where her boat once stood and made to throw off his jacket, desperately tugging at one tweed arm, but her voice stilled him.
“You didn’t finish the rest of the story!” she called impatiently.
The wind sifted through her hair and matched the long lacy sail behind her.
“What are you talking about?” the Doctor called back, now trying to throw off his water logged shoes to make a proper go at swimming after her.
“The book!” she replied obviously.
The Doctor glanced down and saw he still had it tucked into the front of his pants.
“You have to finish the story!” she said, suddenly urgent. “It’s the only way!”
“The only way for what?” he shouted in frustration, trying to make himself heard as she drifted farther away.
He saw she was aiming at a dark spot on the horizon, where a storm was brewing ominously. He knew instinctively that she was headed toward something dangerous.
“Turn back!” he cried.
Rose peered out at him from across the lake, her quiet expression telling him in no uncertain terms that she wouldn’t, or couldn’t do so. The Doctor stopped struggling with his clothes and held out one hand, desperate to reach out to her and reestablish their broken connection.
She held up her hand too, and let one of many tears begin to fall down her face.
“It has to have a happy ending!” she cried as the storm began to break. “I hate it when they’re sad! You make it right! I know you will.”
Lightning crashed behind her tiny boat, and soon her dress was soaked with freezing rain. Her ship pitched on the tumultuous waves, threatening to topple at any second.
The Doctor glanced down toward the book, and brought it out quickly, hoping to ascertain what her meaning was before it was too late. But when he looked up again almost immediately, Rose was gone. The storm had disappeared, and only a glassy surface remained, giving no evidence that either the woman or the boat had ever existed. A choking sound emitted from his throat and he sank down to his knees in the warm water.
“Rose,” he whispered morosely.
He stared at the spot where she had once been, and then shook his head at the book in front of him. He flipped it open, hoping to find answers, and sputtered as it revealed empty pages where writing had once been. He stood up and walked back toward the shore, unable to convince himself that what he was seeing was true. The script had just been there a moment ago!
Finally, he reached the front page, where only four words remained. They shone forth from the elegant illuminated frontispiece, as if to mock his very being. He read aloud, as if to bring them to life.
“Once…upon a time…”
Next Chapter