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The Hoarfrost Rooom, Nine/Rose, Teen
Rose is locked up in a vast old house in a desert of hoarfrost and fog. 2.096 words
Rose wrapped herself in her knitted cardigan and stepped outside. The world was white and very still. The hoarfrost and the low stratus froze, enveloping everything in a coat and heavy shawl. The ice crystals looked particularly beautiful on the twigs and thin reeds, the dead rose bushes and cropped grass. The world usually seemed to end at the high walls surrounding the garden, but that day the fog was so dense that it seemed like a wall in itself, obscuring the stone one.
Stepping away from the bright rectangle of warmth behind her, she pulled the cardigan around her body, noticing how tightly she had to pull the blue material over the swell of her stomach. She shouldn't be out here in the late December cold without a proper coat on. The thing was she felt trapped in it, just like she'd felt trapped in the house behind her, the house in which so many doors were locked and stairs were off-limits for her. She was free to move around the rest of the house, and she was being well-looked after. There was always enough food and drink and her wardrobe and chest of drawers were always filledwith fresh clothes. She never saw her caretaker, though.
There had been a time when she'd thought it was the father of her child. She had no memory of being with a man, no recollection of how they had actually made the baby. Had they made love, with the aim of getting pregnant? Or had they just been careless? Was it an accident?
She had no recollection of him, and so she didn't miss him.
She felt very bad for it.
Rose shivered. There was another reason why she might be pregnant, and for the first time since her arrival -- or awakening, rather -- she was grateful that her memory was gone. All she remembered about herself was her name: Rose.
She had spent a lot of time exploring her body and the clothes she'd worn when she first came -- or woke -- here in the hopes of finding out more about herself, but she had no idea why her name was Rose. Of course, her parents had given it to her when she was a baby, when they couldn't possibly have had any idea of what she was going to look like. Or did she come from a cultural background in which it was customary for young adults to choose a name as part of a coming-of-age ritual?
Then, of course, she'd discovered she was pregnant. It wasn't the nausea, or the lack of her monthlies. She was far beyond that. She was beginning to show. At first she'd thought that her jeans had become snug because of the lack of exercise -- another clue there, she mused, she must have been quite active, just what it was she used to do to get exercise was beyond her. But then she examined herself and found that the swell of her stomach was too baby-shaped to be down to eating too much.
She had started to nap a lot then, and gone for walks in the walled garden that comprised her world now. It did have a door, but whenever she opened it to look at what was beyond she'd get that prickly feeling that made her close the door. She also got the impression, however, that she was someone who liked to travel and to explore. The land beyond the wall was a forbidding hilly landscape that seemed to consist of nothing but moors and heather and gorse. The path that led up to the door in the garden wall wound around a hill and out of sight.
She really should go exploring, Rose thought. What harm could it do? She'd just go and see where that path led. She'd be back at the house in no time. And then she'd start with the stairs that seemed off-limits for some reason. There wasn't anyone who could have ever suggested to her that she mustn't climb the stairs; the locked doors, of course, were an entirely different story.
Rose dropped her hand to her stomach and caressed it.
Her breath froze as soon as it left her mouth or nose, and for a few moments she amused herself by puffing or blowing and playing with her warm breath in the cold air. It was a bit
like adding oil to water. Only her breath would evaporate quickly, while the oil would rise to the surface of the water and cover it with a greenish coat, much like the hoarfrost covered the garden.
The garden had been frozen ever since she arrived, or awoke.
She still had no idea what had really happened.
She had the feeling that she'd both arrived and awoken here. Her memory was gone, but her common sense wasn't, and neither were her instincts, and they told her that she didn't belong here. Why would doors be locked and stairs off-limits? Why would her skin get tingly whenever she tried the handles and steps or glanced far into the distance of the drab landscape?
The books in the library comforted her. Here, at least, she found a means to escape. She curled up on the sofa there, often wrapped in a blanket, more for comfort than warmth, and read herself into the worlds the books offered.
The escape, along with the feeling of having gotten away and having quenched her thirst for adventure, was brief, and whenever she returned to the real world of the vast, empty house with all its rules and restrictions, the feeling that something was very wrong about her life got stronger and stronger.
Blowing one last cloud of her breath into the dense fog she smiled wistfully and returned to the warmth of the kitchen.
-:-
It was time to get Rose back. He had kept her hidden long enough. He had fought off the Recaloub, and he'd waited an extra couple of days just to make sure that it was really safe for her to come back. He couldn't let her down like that, not after all she'd done for him. He felt bad enough about how he had protected her from the Recaloub. When he'd explained to her how keeping her safe worked she'd encouraged him to go ahead.
"Are you sure that's what you want?" he'd asked.
"Yeah," she'd replied in that tone that suggested that she was not going to tolerate any comments on her ability to grasp the implications of his plan.
"You won't be quite yourself when I lock you up there. There will be questions, and no one there to answer them for you," he warned. He needed to be absolutely sure about it, but deep down he wanted her to stick to her decision.
"We need to keep the baby safe, yeah?" she said, sounding like the young girl she was, but hidden underneath her tone was the fierce instinct that compelled her to protect her unborn child.
Her words broke something inside of him, something that had sent him to, and kept him, in a dark place while she was sleeping. It was his fault that she was pregnant with his child, that he had burdened her with so much responsibility. it wasn't that he didn't trust her with a baby. It was just... he had no idea what carrying a half-alien child must be like, and his lack of knowledge terrified him.
"Yeah," he agreed, sounding less confident than he'd wanted to. He'd expected more of a fight from her, but she'd agreed to this madman's plan very readily.
He went to the Hoarfrost Room, a place hidden deep within the TARDIS. He'd forgotten it even existed because he'd never used it before. The TARDIS reminded him of it, good old girl, but his relief had come in the company of the fear that Rose might reject the plan and insist on fighting the Recaloub alongside him.
As he unlocked the door, he was surprised that Rose had actually chosen a stark landscape covered in hoarfrost, a world devoid of any colour since dense fog shrouded everything. An icy wind pricked his skin as he turned around this way and that somewhat helplessly to see if there was a clue as to where he should go. The door through which he had entered was gone. Nothing but the hilly vastness of a Bronte-esque landscape surrounded him. The only thing that stood out against the greyish brown and muted white of the hoarfrost was a marker stone.
"Not much help you are," he grumbled, his accent thick. But then he broke into a wide grin, shrugged, and wandered off down the road. When, eventually, he came to another, smaller, crossroads, he took a right turn and walked down the path that disappeared behind a bend round a hill.
Out of the stillness of the frozen landscape appeared a massive stone wall before him, and the path took him to a wooden door that was unlocked. He pushed it open and stepped inside the garden that was enclosed by the wall, and he found himself in a completely different world. Hoarfrost and fog reigned here as well, but they turned the plants into all sorts of interesting confections and shadows so full to bursting with stories that he had little doubt this was where he'd find his Rose.
"Rose?" he called, quickening his step until he could see the dark bulk of the house she'd chosen for her temporary home. He hurried towards the back door and opened it. The warmth of the place was overwhelming after the iciness of the Hoarfrost Room.
She was standing on the top landing of the grand staircase, dressed in denims and a blue cardigan she clutched to her like a piece of armour. Yet, he noticed her bump. His grin faded. How long had she been here? How did she feel about the baby, not knowing who his father was?
"Yeah?" she replied carefully.
"It's time to go home now, love," he said, holding out his hand for her.
"Who are you?"
His hearts sank. This should have been much easier. By now, the effects of the Hoarfrost Room should have started to wear off. "I'm the Doctor," he said. "I've come to take you home, Rose."
She pursed her lips and brushed her hair back, debating whether she could believe him. "I want to know what's in this one room. I've been wondering for quite some time now."
"All right."
She stepped aside to invite him to join her, and he did so in a few long strides. The floorboards were very creaky under his weight.
"Do you have a name, Doctor?"
He took her hand. "I do, and you know it. You're just hiding it away, remember?"
She gave him an intense, searching look. He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. "There is something. It seems to ring true."
"Brilliant."
"What's in that room?"
"Show me, love."
"My love," she said. "It should be my love, shouldn't it? Because of him?" She stroked her bump.
He nodded. "My love." It was so easy to say.
She smiled then, but it was different from all the other smiles she'd ever given him before. It was a bit wistful, and knowing, but it was also serene and very happy. It broke something else inside him. He offered her his hand and she took it, and the moment their palms touched and their fingers interlocked he knew he had her back.
Rose blinked, bewildered, as the Hoarfrost released her memories. "Oh."
"Rose?"
She looked at him intently. "I didn't miss you."
He closed his eyes briefly. That's what he'd been afraid of, the guilt she'd feel over not remembering and therefore not missing him. "It was part of protecting you."
"I can't be trusted, can I? Not to join you in the fight after all?"
He shrugged helplessly.
"I don't want that ever again, you hear?"
He stared at her. "Don't make me promise, Rose."
She sighed and gave his hand a squeeze.
"Do you still want to see what's in that room?"
"No. I just want to curl up in bed with you and forget about all this."
He smiled, not as broadly as he normally would, and led her down the stairs and out of the Hoarfrost Room, hoping against hope they'd forget about it very very quickly.
Happy New Year!
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