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tellitslantTitle: For the Fairest (2/5): The Fortunate Isle
Fandom: Doctor Who
Disclaimer: All hail the Beeb.
Characters: River, Eleven
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Blatant misappropriation and misuse of mythology.
Word Count: 4500
Summary: While exploring an ancient castle, River encounters an unknown foe who is determined to keep her – and the Doctor – hostage until they pay for their trespasses.
Notes:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kaptnjack recently posted a screenshot from 5.12 of River with a golden apple in the background. This is the second of five stories exploring where it may have come from. The first, "Holding Up the Heavens," can be found here.
River crept forward, squinting in the shadows. The corridor floor was uneven, and her torch only made it impossible to see what lurked outside its bright circle. So she moved softly, watching, the weight of her pack both a reassurance and a reminder that she was somewhere she wasn't meant to be. Grinning, she shoved through a patch of cobwebs. This was the best part of her job, she thought, and forgot to watch her footing. The flagstones shifted beneath her boot and she leapt away, stumbling and falling in her rush to get out of the way of...
...the light film of dust that sifted down from the ceiling, disturbed by her passing.
She clambered to her feet, feeling slightly foolish. Trying to wipe off the sensitive parts of her anatomy only smeared dirt further into the fabric of her trousers, so she gave it up as a bad job and settled for smoothing her hair back into its bun instead. "Looks like rumours of your booby traps have been greatly exaggerated, old girl," she said, slapping the castle wall familiarly.
There was a grating noise as the stone River had touched receded from its neighbours. Simultaneously a razor-thin slab of rock fell from the ceiling, just inches from River, and shattered on the floor.
She threw her arm up to protect her eyes from flying rock chips, took a step backwards, and fell into the dark.
*
Some time later, she swam back up to consciousness. She opened and closed her eyes several times, straining to see, but nothing made a difference. Was she blind? She brought her hand up carefully to check the painful throbbing at the back of her head; a faint shadow followed her movement. Not blind, then, but somewhere dark. She'd fallen – moving set off aches all over her body that told her how she'd landed – but from where?
Her fingers fumbled through her hair, finding a sticky bump on her skull. Blood. She'd be lucky to escape a concussion. She rubbed her fingers together; grit scratched at her skin. Grit. Stone dust. The castle!
River bolted upright, then groaned and clutched her head, regretting the move immediately. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to stop the world from spinning, swallowing heavily against the violence of the nausea that gripped her stomach. Thoughts bounced about in her head, adding to the queasiness and aggravating her pounding headache.
The castle. She'd been walking through Tintagel Castle, uncovering hidden corridors. She had found two exquisitely carved statuettes in a secret room under one of the guardhouses – did she still have them? She patted about blindly until her hand fell on her rucksack. Still there. Good. And then she'd touched something – triggered a trap – she'd fallen, and then, nothing.
Although, she thought – had she heard someone speaking?
Surely not. The castle had been abandoned for millennia. Her wriststrap would have alerted her to any other lifesigns. She had just hit her head. Very, very hard.
Okay, so she was underneath the castle. In the dungeons, or perhaps catacombs. That was good – there might be burial caches, full of more undiscovered artifacts – but also bad – how would she get out? She could feel a breath of air on her face, though, which meant an opening to outside, which meant an escape route. She just needed to find her torch and then she could explore.
River opened her eyes cautiously, but the nausea had passed, at least for now. The darkness seemed a little less absolute, too; she could see her hands clearly as she lowered them to the ground. There was light coming from somewhere – the hole she'd fallen through? she wondered, and craned her neck backwards to see.
A sky full of stars glittered back at her.
River lay on her back and stared at the stars for long minutes. They eventually stopped spinning, which was something, at least. But where was she? Had she been transported? She raised her wrist: coordinates glowed blue against the darkness. Apparently she was exactly where she ought to be: Tintagel Castle, 2732.
Okay, forget exploring, she'd just leave. She poked at the vortex manipulator, but it only fizzled disconsolately before giving her an error message. Wherever she was, she was stuck there; some sort of temporal dampening field was in effect. So either her computer was broken – the Doctor always did go on about the unreliable nature of vortex manipulators – or something strange was going on. And smart money, River thought, was on something strange.
She levered herself up off the ground with a grunt. She still had all her tools, plus her blaster and computer. If someone else was responsible for her situation, they hadn't frisked her. Time to take stock of what was going on.
She turned in a slow circle. She was on top of a small hill, surrounded by empty fields. Ocean stretched to one side; no escape there, she thought. But something caught her eye, lights blinking in the darkness. A town? A camp? Whatever it was, River, thought, it was her only clue. She set out across the fields, determined to find out what had happened to her.
*
The lights were a castle, River discovered as she came closer. It looked, in fact, just like Tintagel, only new and in perfect condition rather than abandoned and in ruins. Had she been sent back in time? She gave her computer a shake, knocking it against the tree she stood next to, but it continued stubbornly displaying the same information. "Whatever," she muttered, and crept closer to the edge of the orchard she was hiding in.
The castle was ablaze with light and streams of finely-clad men and women were passing through several open gates around its perimeter. A party, River deduced, and glanced regretfully down at her torn, dirty clothes. No chance of sneaking in wearing these, she thought; she'd have to figure something else out. But first, she needed to eat, or her growling stomach would give her away.
She disappeared back into the orchard, passing plum trees and cherry trees before choosing an apple tree with low-hanging branches and hauling herself up into its limbs. She plucked an apple and squinted at it in the dim light. She couldn't tell what kind it was, but the skin looked unbroken and the flesh felt solid in her hands, so she bit into it. Juices flooded her mouth, waking parched tissues, and she nearly moaned in appreciation. She must have been hungrier than she thought after her hike, for a simple apple to taste positively... ambrosial.
She ate two, adding some dried beef from her supplies, and stuck three more in her pack before jumping lightly back to the ground.
Sitting in the tree, she'd watched the traffic at the castle. Now she made her way directly to a section of the wall far from any of the busy gates. Reaching into her bag, she grabbed a pair of climbing gloves. The surfaces were covered with microscopic metal hooks. She flicked a button, setting them to vibrate; they easily gripped onto the sheer rock wall, making it possible for her to scramble up it.
She peeked over the battlements, checking for guards, then let herself tumble onto the shadows on the walkway. Close up, this was definitely Tintagel. Which was good, River thought; she had the floor plan memorized, so getting back to the corridor where she'd set off the booby trap that had triggered this whole adventure should be easy. She hoped.
To her surprise, it was easy. The courtyard was crowded with beautiful people in elaborate dress, eating, drinking, and moving in and out of the castle, dancing to some of the most beautiful music River had ever heard. But away from the brightly lit torches were large stretches of empty shadows without even servants in sight. River watched for a few minutes, then strolled down the stairs, across the yard, and through a side door, as if she hadn't a care in the world.
Inside, she leaned against the closed door for a moment and took a few deep breaths. Her mouth was dry and her heart was racing. If the corridor was empty, she didn't know what she'd do. She didn't know where or when she was, or why, or who was behind this. There was no obvious enemy, no weak spot, no escape.
No way to call for help.
Outside, one song came to an end. There was genteel applause before another started up, this time a sprightly waltz.
"All right," River said, pushing off from the wall and taking a wobbly step forward. "Let's dance."
The castle was oddly empty, given the excitement outside. The main hall and the rooms nearby were filled with people, but by sticking to the back passages River managed to avoid them. Everything felt off, though. Where were the servants? She could smell a massive banquet somewhere nearby, but all the halls she ran through were caked with dust. It looked as though no one else had used them for years. A castle this size needed an army of servants to keep it running. Why were there no signs of their presence?
Her mental map of the castle lined up perfectly, and soon she was back in the same featureless corridor she remembered from earlier – or later, she thought, looking at fresh chisel marks on stone walls that had been polished smooth by age the last time she had seen them. She ran her fingertips over them, feeling for the right angle, the same spot she'd been in before. It would be a dangerous balancing act, between the knife-edged rock trying to slice her in two and the hole – or whatever – she had fallen through before.
Finally she found the right place. Turning, she put her back to where the rock would drop, facing towards the hole she hoped would develop, mysteriously holding the secret to this whole adventure. "Let's try this again," she announced to the empty air, and shoved the stone into the wall.
As before, a slab of rock clattered to the ground behind her. A flying shard cut into her upper arm, but River ignored it, staring in disbelief at the spectacle unfolding before her. The corridor was dissolving in front of her eyes. As she watched, the whole castle seemed to fade away, replaced by a black void.
And in the void, looking very smug, was the Doctor. Leaning in the open door of the TARDIS, he smirked at her. "Hi, dear," he said cockily. "Have a nice day at work?"
Before she could reply, the TARDIS disappeared with a wheeze, only to reappear behind her as the corridor shimmered back into existence. River blinked, then turned to see the Doctor picking his way through the rubble left by the booby trap.
"Really, River, did you have to make such a mess of the place?" he asked, slinging his arm around her shoulder and escorting her back to the TARDIS. "Careful, watch your step there, in we go." He shut the door behind them with a gesture and bounded up the stairs to the console.
"Doctor, what is going on?" River asked, dropping her pack by the chair and sitting down gratefully. "How did you know where to find me?"
"Not now, River," he snapped, leaning over the controls and poking at them with unusual vigor. "Got to get out of here before you get yourself into real trouble." He yanked a switch just as River opened her mouth to protest. The TARDIS gave one groaning lurch sideways, throwing them both onto the floor, then dropped like a stone. For an interminable moment River clung to the railing, eyes shut, listening as the Doctor swore in Gallifreyan and banged at the console. Then they bounced horribly and rattled to a stop. River's head clanged against the chair seat; she felt blood trickle down her neck as her wound from earlier reopened.
"Ooh, not good, not good at all," the Doctor muttered. She opened her eyes to see him flat on his back under the console. "Sorry about that, should have guessed they'd have a temporal dampener, but I didn't know, did I? Still, didn't hurt you too much, we'll get out of here fine once it's down, won't we?" He gave the TARDIS a final consoling pat and jumped up.
He crossed to River and took her head in his hands. She yelped as he put pressure on the knot at the nape of her neck and he withdrew quickly, looking shocked at the blood on his hands. "Oh, now that's a nasty bump," he said, and River couldn't decide whether to be offended or amused that he sounded the same as when he talked to his ship. "Let's see your pupils, how many fingers am I holding up, look left, look right, good, no serious damage. Watch what you do to that head, don't want it permanently scrambled." He hauled her up, plopped her into the chair, and hung halfway over the edge of the deck to retrieve her bag where it had fallen during their abortive flight.
Dropping the bag in her lap, he began to rummage through it, pulling out her leaf trowel, a small tent, and a set of brushes before she grabbed it away from him. "Hey!" she protested. "Just what do you think you're doing?"
He snatched it back and continued digging. "The temporal dampener," he explained, voice muffled as he peered into her pack. "It's triggered by trying to remove matter from the castle or its immediate area. They'll have noticed by now that we set it off, but if I can find whatever you have in here, maybe I can get it off the ship and we can get free." He fixed her with a disapproving glare. "Be careful where you dig, Doctor Song; you might not like what you find. The Fair Folk are protective of their history."
"The Fair Folk? As in faeries?" A faerie castle? That would explain the lack of servants – no need to carry plates if the food appeared by itself, was there? But – faeries? "Doctor, what...?"
But he wasn't listening. He was holding her lovely statuettes in his hands. She sighed and bade them a silent goodbye as he dashed to the TARDIS door and threw it open. She leaned over and peered out into what looked like a sitting room in the castle; she could still hear the music as he dropped her statues on the first handy table and ran back into the ship.
"Right, here we go," he declared, fingers flying over the console. He smacked his hand down on the bell, but instead of the usual ding, the disconsolate tolling of a large church bell rang through the room.
"What? Still?" He spun on River angrily. "What else do you have in there?" Grabbing her bag by the bottom, he upended it, spilling the contents on the TARDIS floor.
River muffled a cry of dismay as her possessions were scattered. She didn't have anything else, did she? Squatting down on her heels, she ran her hands over the bundles, cataloguing them. "There's nothing else, sweetie," she said, but the Doctor wasn't even looking at her. Instead he was watching, an expression of growing horror on his face, as the three apples she'd picked earlier rolled across the floor. In the light of the TARDIS, they nearly glowed, each a burnished gold shade that set her stomach rumbling as she remembered the taste.
He dropped to his knees in front of her, eyes wide. "You didn't, tell me you didn't, you can't have," he babbled, fingers frantic as he pulled out his screwdriver and scanned her. "Please, River, tell me you haven't. You must know better." The screwdriver beeped and he brought up the readings quickly. He paled as he studied them and River swallowed against a sudden wave of terror.
"Didn't what, Doctor? I don't understand. What are you looking for? Tell me," she demanded.
One of the apples was still rolling in decreasing circles. He reached out and caught it, placing it in her unresisting hand and wrapping his fingers around hers.
"River," he said quietly, his eyes boring into hers. "Did you taste these apples?"
"Did I - ? Yes, I ate two," River answered, confused. "Why?"
"No, no, no, no," the Doctor cried, leaping to his feet. River squeezed the apple, feeling its flesh give under her fingers, and watched him pace frantically around the console. "Don't you understand?" he yelled, fingers tearing at his hair. "You don't steal from the Fair Folk! You don't take their gold, you don't take their treasures, and if you end up in a faerie knoll the last, the very last thing you do is eat their food! There's a price," he finished, voice dropping. "River, there's always a price."
"A faerie knoll? Well, how the hell was I supposed to know?" River yelled back. "I fell through a castle and woke up on a hill, I had no idea!" She wrapped her arms around her stomach, feeling a sudden chill. "Now what do I do?" she whispered, staring at the floor. "What's the price?"
"I don't know," the Doctor said. "I have to think, I have to think." He spun in place, then stalked out of the ship. River followed, still clutching the apple.
The Doctor had barred the door to the corridor; he was leaning against it, deep in thought. "We can't get out while carrying matter from the castle grounds," he said absently. "But you've eaten that matter. It's part of you now. So we have to figure out how to circumvent the temporal dampener. How can we confuse it? Reset its parameters? Maybe. If I can get to the control room." He swung around, gripping the bar as if to lift it, but River slammed her hand down on top of his.
The Doctor glared at her, but River didn't move. "The music, Doctor," she said. "It's stopped. I think... they're coming."
He dropped to the floor and put his ear against the flagstones. "Ooh, you might be right," he said. "I think I hear a few – "
There was a crash against the door; River jumped back in shock. The Doctor stood up, wriggling a finger in the ear he'd had pressed to the ground. "Yup," he said. "They're coming."
"Yes," River said drily. "I can tell."
"So we're stuck here. I can't get to the dampener. What can I do from here? Nothing. Nothing. Can't be nothing, must be something, have to think," the Doctor muttered.
River turned away, crossing to the far wall and leaning her forehead against it. She couldn't see any other option. "Doctor," she said, unable to face him. "You have to go. It's me that's keeping you here. I'll pay whatever the price is. It was my fault." The noise in the corridor was increasing; she couldn't look at the door for fear it would crash down in front of her. She smoothed her hands through her hair, trying to ignore their trembling. "You have to leave before they break through," she added, trying to sound nonchalant.
His hand on her shoulder startled her into turning. He cupped her face between his hands and looked at her as if he'd never seen her before. "River Song, you mad, wonderful woman," he breathed. He hesitated for a moment, then leaned in and kissed her sweetly.
Before she could catch her breath he was away, pacing the room, ignoring the rising noise from outside and twirling his sonic screwdriver in his long, dexterous fingers. "Just leave me here," she tried to say, but he shushed her each time, his annoyance visibly mounting. Finally she turned back to examining the room they were in, tapping at the walls in hopes of discovering a hidden chamber or an escape route or even a booby trap she could turn on their attackers.
She was lying on the floor, examining what looked like a carving underneath one of the arrowslits, when he came to an abrupt halt beside her. He stuck out a hand and she took it, allowing him to draw her to her feet. He held both her hands in his and looked her in the eyes, and she knew without a doubt that she was going to hate whatever he had to say.
"So, the good news is, I figured out how to disrupt the temporal dampener," he said. "Simple, once I thought of it." He smiled, trying to cheer her up, but she wasn't so easily fooled.
"And the bad news, Doctor?" she asked.
"Well, the bad news. The bad news is, I'll have to stay here to do it. I can get you out, but then the field will rebound and the TARDIS will be stuck here for a while."
"No," she said.
"River – "
"No! Doctor, I am not leaving you here to pay for my mistakes," she said, turning away. She picked up the apple again, just for something to do with her hands.
"Here's the thing, though," he said from behind her. "I'm afraid I'm not giving you a choice."
"What do you – "
"Sorry about the journey, have to make sure they can't follow you, and don't worry," he said, cutting her off. "I'll see you soon." He jammed the sonic screwdriver against her wriststrap and sent her whirling off in time before she could say anything else.
Usually trips by vortex manipulator were quick and relatively smooth. This one seemed to go on forever; River was tossed about like flotsam in the ocean, dashed from place to place. Every time she thought the trip was over she would dematerialize again, back in the tide. Finally she landed permanently – in her own flat, she realized, just in time to lunge for the toilet.
She was sick twice before she gathered enough energy to stand up and rinse her mouth with water. The blows to her head and the disorientation of the rough trip left her weak; she clung to the edge of the sink and examined herself in the mirror. She looked wretched, she thought, hair bloody, face covered in dirt, clothes torn. Then she caught sight of the apple in the mirror, laying on the floor where she'd dropped it. That sent her back to the toilet, where she dry-heaved repeatedly, terror and guilt over what the Doctor might be enduring tying her stomach in knots even though there was nothing left in it.
When the spasms let up, she slumped back against the wall and cried. Worst-case scenarios flitted through her head. What did faeries do to people? Kidnapped them, or led them astray, she knew, but that didn't apply here, did it? Turned them into animals? She banged one fist against the floor, frustrated. She simply didn't know; her study had focused on facts, not legends. Though whoever had made that distinction didn't know everything, apparently.
Slowly, she rose to her feet; she cleaned her teeth, washed her face, bandaged her various cuts and bruises. She dropped her clothes on the ground, shrugged into her robe, and shuffled into her bedroom.
"Hi," said the Doctor, who was sitting on her bed.
"Doctor!" she gasped, and flung herself at him, running her hands over him and checking for injuries. "You escaped! Did you escape? How dare you send me away like that! What did they do to you?"
"Escape? No, I didn't escape," the Doctor said, capturing her hands in his. She looked at him closely; he looked tired, she thought, as if he had been stretched thin. "They weren't very happy that you got away, but they let me pay the price instead of chasing you. I was very persuasive. Once that was settled, I came here." He smiled gently.
River froze, feeling her single heartbeat speed up even as his double pulse thrummed steadily against her hands. He wouldn't tell her if she didn't ask, she knew. He wouldn't hold her responsible, either. She could go the rest of her life not having to know what he'd been through, not knowing what he'd saved her from, and he wouldn’t judge.
But she would. Coward, she told herself, and forced her voice to stay steady. "What was the price, Doctor?" she asked.
"Well, faeries, it's all about balance with them, and bargaining, and once I stopped talking I think I'd confused them a little, so it wasn't nearly as bad as it could be," he said, looking away.
"I'm not so easily confused," River said stubbornly. "What did it take?"
He squeezed her hands. "A hundred years," he replied.
"A hundred years?" River echoed. Her voice sounded far away to her own ears, as if she was standing back in the castle, words echoing through empty corridors. "A hundred years of your life? Oh, Doctor." Her eyes welled up with tears again.
He shrugged awkwardly. "Shh, don't cry, it's not so bad, for a Time Lord," he said, wiping the tears off her cheeks. "I had a spare hundred or so years sitting around. You wouldn't have. It wasn't even an option. Hush now. Time to rest your head."
She stood automatically and watched him turn down the covers on her bed. When he stepped back, though, she wrapped her arms around him and slid his jacket off his shoulders. "Stay with me tonight," she asked quietly. Forgive me, she thought, and held her breath as he studied her face. Only when he tugged off his braces and undid his bowtie did she relax.
He stripped to his boxers and climbed into bed, holding up the covers as she joined him. She eyed him covertly, looking for signs of age as she curled into his side. There were a few extra lines on his face, a new scar across his ribs, but his hearts beat just as strongly as ever under her ear, and the knot inside her relaxed a little further.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"Ah, don't worry about it," he replied. "A hundred years? What's that to a man with a time machine?" He kissed her temple. "Don't think about it any more, River," he said softly. "I don't regret a moment of it." She drifted off to sleep to the soft pressure of him stroking her curls.
When she woke in the morning he was in the kitchen, cheerfully dismantling her toaster. "Five minutes," he promised, "and it'll be better than ever, you wait and see." She shook her head at him fondly and went to deal with her hair.
The apple was on the floor in the toilet.
The sight hit her like a physical blow. She snatched it up and darted back to her room, looking desperately for somewhere to hide it. Finally she grabbed a pair of socks, wrapped the apple up, and shoved the bundle back in a drawer. Slamming it shut, she backed away, eyeing it cautiously.
There was a loud bang; she jumped, but it had come from the kitchen, and a small puff of smoke floated through the door. The Doctor's voice followed it. "Um, River, about that toaster," he said sheepishly.
She smiled, overwhelmed by a sudden rush of joy. "Coming, Doctor," she called. One last glance at the drawer and then she darted out of the room, throwing herself onto the Doctor's lap and kissing him despite the fact that her toaster was melting into her kitchen table. "Shall we go out for breakfast, sweetie?" she asked, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I know this great place on Alpha Centauri..."
She'd pull the apple out after he was gone, she thought, and put it somewhere visible. That way she wouldn't forget. That way maybe she could find some way, someday, to repay the Doctor for the sacrifice he'd made for her. She didn't like owing debts.
Fandom: Doctor Who
Disclaimer: All hail the Beeb.
Characters: River, Eleven
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Blatant misappropriation and misuse of mythology.
Word Count: 4500
Summary: While exploring an ancient castle, River encounters an unknown foe who is determined to keep her – and the Doctor – hostage until they pay for their trespasses.
Notes:
kaptnjack recently posted a screenshot from 5.12 of River with a golden apple in the background. This is the second of five stories exploring where it may have come from. The first, "Holding Up the Heavens," can be found here.River crept forward, squinting in the shadows. The corridor floor was uneven, and her torch only made it impossible to see what lurked outside its bright circle. So she moved softly, watching, the weight of her pack both a reassurance and a reminder that she was somewhere she wasn't meant to be. Grinning, she shoved through a patch of cobwebs. This was the best part of her job, she thought, and forgot to watch her footing. The flagstones shifted beneath her boot and she leapt away, stumbling and falling in her rush to get out of the way of...
...the light film of dust that sifted down from the ceiling, disturbed by her passing.
She clambered to her feet, feeling slightly foolish. Trying to wipe off the sensitive parts of her anatomy only smeared dirt further into the fabric of her trousers, so she gave it up as a bad job and settled for smoothing her hair back into its bun instead. "Looks like rumours of your booby traps have been greatly exaggerated, old girl," she said, slapping the castle wall familiarly.
There was a grating noise as the stone River had touched receded from its neighbours. Simultaneously a razor-thin slab of rock fell from the ceiling, just inches from River, and shattered on the floor.
She threw her arm up to protect her eyes from flying rock chips, took a step backwards, and fell into the dark.
*
Some time later, she swam back up to consciousness. She opened and closed her eyes several times, straining to see, but nothing made a difference. Was she blind? She brought her hand up carefully to check the painful throbbing at the back of her head; a faint shadow followed her movement. Not blind, then, but somewhere dark. She'd fallen – moving set off aches all over her body that told her how she'd landed – but from where?
Her fingers fumbled through her hair, finding a sticky bump on her skull. Blood. She'd be lucky to escape a concussion. She rubbed her fingers together; grit scratched at her skin. Grit. Stone dust. The castle!
River bolted upright, then groaned and clutched her head, regretting the move immediately. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to stop the world from spinning, swallowing heavily against the violence of the nausea that gripped her stomach. Thoughts bounced about in her head, adding to the queasiness and aggravating her pounding headache.
The castle. She'd been walking through Tintagel Castle, uncovering hidden corridors. She had found two exquisitely carved statuettes in a secret room under one of the guardhouses – did she still have them? She patted about blindly until her hand fell on her rucksack. Still there. Good. And then she'd touched something – triggered a trap – she'd fallen, and then, nothing.
Although, she thought – had she heard someone speaking?
Surely not. The castle had been abandoned for millennia. Her wriststrap would have alerted her to any other lifesigns. She had just hit her head. Very, very hard.
Okay, so she was underneath the castle. In the dungeons, or perhaps catacombs. That was good – there might be burial caches, full of more undiscovered artifacts – but also bad – how would she get out? She could feel a breath of air on her face, though, which meant an opening to outside, which meant an escape route. She just needed to find her torch and then she could explore.
River opened her eyes cautiously, but the nausea had passed, at least for now. The darkness seemed a little less absolute, too; she could see her hands clearly as she lowered them to the ground. There was light coming from somewhere – the hole she'd fallen through? she wondered, and craned her neck backwards to see.
A sky full of stars glittered back at her.
River lay on her back and stared at the stars for long minutes. They eventually stopped spinning, which was something, at least. But where was she? Had she been transported? She raised her wrist: coordinates glowed blue against the darkness. Apparently she was exactly where she ought to be: Tintagel Castle, 2732.
Okay, forget exploring, she'd just leave. She poked at the vortex manipulator, but it only fizzled disconsolately before giving her an error message. Wherever she was, she was stuck there; some sort of temporal dampening field was in effect. So either her computer was broken – the Doctor always did go on about the unreliable nature of vortex manipulators – or something strange was going on. And smart money, River thought, was on something strange.
She levered herself up off the ground with a grunt. She still had all her tools, plus her blaster and computer. If someone else was responsible for her situation, they hadn't frisked her. Time to take stock of what was going on.
She turned in a slow circle. She was on top of a small hill, surrounded by empty fields. Ocean stretched to one side; no escape there, she thought. But something caught her eye, lights blinking in the darkness. A town? A camp? Whatever it was, River, thought, it was her only clue. She set out across the fields, determined to find out what had happened to her.
*
The lights were a castle, River discovered as she came closer. It looked, in fact, just like Tintagel, only new and in perfect condition rather than abandoned and in ruins. Had she been sent back in time? She gave her computer a shake, knocking it against the tree she stood next to, but it continued stubbornly displaying the same information. "Whatever," she muttered, and crept closer to the edge of the orchard she was hiding in.
The castle was ablaze with light and streams of finely-clad men and women were passing through several open gates around its perimeter. A party, River deduced, and glanced regretfully down at her torn, dirty clothes. No chance of sneaking in wearing these, she thought; she'd have to figure something else out. But first, she needed to eat, or her growling stomach would give her away.
She disappeared back into the orchard, passing plum trees and cherry trees before choosing an apple tree with low-hanging branches and hauling herself up into its limbs. She plucked an apple and squinted at it in the dim light. She couldn't tell what kind it was, but the skin looked unbroken and the flesh felt solid in her hands, so she bit into it. Juices flooded her mouth, waking parched tissues, and she nearly moaned in appreciation. She must have been hungrier than she thought after her hike, for a simple apple to taste positively... ambrosial.
She ate two, adding some dried beef from her supplies, and stuck three more in her pack before jumping lightly back to the ground.
Sitting in the tree, she'd watched the traffic at the castle. Now she made her way directly to a section of the wall far from any of the busy gates. Reaching into her bag, she grabbed a pair of climbing gloves. The surfaces were covered with microscopic metal hooks. She flicked a button, setting them to vibrate; they easily gripped onto the sheer rock wall, making it possible for her to scramble up it.
She peeked over the battlements, checking for guards, then let herself tumble onto the shadows on the walkway. Close up, this was definitely Tintagel. Which was good, River thought; she had the floor plan memorized, so getting back to the corridor where she'd set off the booby trap that had triggered this whole adventure should be easy. She hoped.
To her surprise, it was easy. The courtyard was crowded with beautiful people in elaborate dress, eating, drinking, and moving in and out of the castle, dancing to some of the most beautiful music River had ever heard. But away from the brightly lit torches were large stretches of empty shadows without even servants in sight. River watched for a few minutes, then strolled down the stairs, across the yard, and through a side door, as if she hadn't a care in the world.
Inside, she leaned against the closed door for a moment and took a few deep breaths. Her mouth was dry and her heart was racing. If the corridor was empty, she didn't know what she'd do. She didn't know where or when she was, or why, or who was behind this. There was no obvious enemy, no weak spot, no escape.
No way to call for help.
Outside, one song came to an end. There was genteel applause before another started up, this time a sprightly waltz.
"All right," River said, pushing off from the wall and taking a wobbly step forward. "Let's dance."
The castle was oddly empty, given the excitement outside. The main hall and the rooms nearby were filled with people, but by sticking to the back passages River managed to avoid them. Everything felt off, though. Where were the servants? She could smell a massive banquet somewhere nearby, but all the halls she ran through were caked with dust. It looked as though no one else had used them for years. A castle this size needed an army of servants to keep it running. Why were there no signs of their presence?
Her mental map of the castle lined up perfectly, and soon she was back in the same featureless corridor she remembered from earlier – or later, she thought, looking at fresh chisel marks on stone walls that had been polished smooth by age the last time she had seen them. She ran her fingertips over them, feeling for the right angle, the same spot she'd been in before. It would be a dangerous balancing act, between the knife-edged rock trying to slice her in two and the hole – or whatever – she had fallen through before.
Finally she found the right place. Turning, she put her back to where the rock would drop, facing towards the hole she hoped would develop, mysteriously holding the secret to this whole adventure. "Let's try this again," she announced to the empty air, and shoved the stone into the wall.
As before, a slab of rock clattered to the ground behind her. A flying shard cut into her upper arm, but River ignored it, staring in disbelief at the spectacle unfolding before her. The corridor was dissolving in front of her eyes. As she watched, the whole castle seemed to fade away, replaced by a black void.
And in the void, looking very smug, was the Doctor. Leaning in the open door of the TARDIS, he smirked at her. "Hi, dear," he said cockily. "Have a nice day at work?"
Before she could reply, the TARDIS disappeared with a wheeze, only to reappear behind her as the corridor shimmered back into existence. River blinked, then turned to see the Doctor picking his way through the rubble left by the booby trap.
"Really, River, did you have to make such a mess of the place?" he asked, slinging his arm around her shoulder and escorting her back to the TARDIS. "Careful, watch your step there, in we go." He shut the door behind them with a gesture and bounded up the stairs to the console.
"Doctor, what is going on?" River asked, dropping her pack by the chair and sitting down gratefully. "How did you know where to find me?"
"Not now, River," he snapped, leaning over the controls and poking at them with unusual vigor. "Got to get out of here before you get yourself into real trouble." He yanked a switch just as River opened her mouth to protest. The TARDIS gave one groaning lurch sideways, throwing them both onto the floor, then dropped like a stone. For an interminable moment River clung to the railing, eyes shut, listening as the Doctor swore in Gallifreyan and banged at the console. Then they bounced horribly and rattled to a stop. River's head clanged against the chair seat; she felt blood trickle down her neck as her wound from earlier reopened.
"Ooh, not good, not good at all," the Doctor muttered. She opened her eyes to see him flat on his back under the console. "Sorry about that, should have guessed they'd have a temporal dampener, but I didn't know, did I? Still, didn't hurt you too much, we'll get out of here fine once it's down, won't we?" He gave the TARDIS a final consoling pat and jumped up.
He crossed to River and took her head in his hands. She yelped as he put pressure on the knot at the nape of her neck and he withdrew quickly, looking shocked at the blood on his hands. "Oh, now that's a nasty bump," he said, and River couldn't decide whether to be offended or amused that he sounded the same as when he talked to his ship. "Let's see your pupils, how many fingers am I holding up, look left, look right, good, no serious damage. Watch what you do to that head, don't want it permanently scrambled." He hauled her up, plopped her into the chair, and hung halfway over the edge of the deck to retrieve her bag where it had fallen during their abortive flight.
Dropping the bag in her lap, he began to rummage through it, pulling out her leaf trowel, a small tent, and a set of brushes before she grabbed it away from him. "Hey!" she protested. "Just what do you think you're doing?"
He snatched it back and continued digging. "The temporal dampener," he explained, voice muffled as he peered into her pack. "It's triggered by trying to remove matter from the castle or its immediate area. They'll have noticed by now that we set it off, but if I can find whatever you have in here, maybe I can get it off the ship and we can get free." He fixed her with a disapproving glare. "Be careful where you dig, Doctor Song; you might not like what you find. The Fair Folk are protective of their history."
"The Fair Folk? As in faeries?" A faerie castle? That would explain the lack of servants – no need to carry plates if the food appeared by itself, was there? But – faeries? "Doctor, what...?"
But he wasn't listening. He was holding her lovely statuettes in his hands. She sighed and bade them a silent goodbye as he dashed to the TARDIS door and threw it open. She leaned over and peered out into what looked like a sitting room in the castle; she could still hear the music as he dropped her statues on the first handy table and ran back into the ship.
"Right, here we go," he declared, fingers flying over the console. He smacked his hand down on the bell, but instead of the usual ding, the disconsolate tolling of a large church bell rang through the room.
"What? Still?" He spun on River angrily. "What else do you have in there?" Grabbing her bag by the bottom, he upended it, spilling the contents on the TARDIS floor.
River muffled a cry of dismay as her possessions were scattered. She didn't have anything else, did she? Squatting down on her heels, she ran her hands over the bundles, cataloguing them. "There's nothing else, sweetie," she said, but the Doctor wasn't even looking at her. Instead he was watching, an expression of growing horror on his face, as the three apples she'd picked earlier rolled across the floor. In the light of the TARDIS, they nearly glowed, each a burnished gold shade that set her stomach rumbling as she remembered the taste.
He dropped to his knees in front of her, eyes wide. "You didn't, tell me you didn't, you can't have," he babbled, fingers frantic as he pulled out his screwdriver and scanned her. "Please, River, tell me you haven't. You must know better." The screwdriver beeped and he brought up the readings quickly. He paled as he studied them and River swallowed against a sudden wave of terror.
"Didn't what, Doctor? I don't understand. What are you looking for? Tell me," she demanded.
One of the apples was still rolling in decreasing circles. He reached out and caught it, placing it in her unresisting hand and wrapping his fingers around hers.
"River," he said quietly, his eyes boring into hers. "Did you taste these apples?"
"Did I - ? Yes, I ate two," River answered, confused. "Why?"
"No, no, no, no," the Doctor cried, leaping to his feet. River squeezed the apple, feeling its flesh give under her fingers, and watched him pace frantically around the console. "Don't you understand?" he yelled, fingers tearing at his hair. "You don't steal from the Fair Folk! You don't take their gold, you don't take their treasures, and if you end up in a faerie knoll the last, the very last thing you do is eat their food! There's a price," he finished, voice dropping. "River, there's always a price."
"A faerie knoll? Well, how the hell was I supposed to know?" River yelled back. "I fell through a castle and woke up on a hill, I had no idea!" She wrapped her arms around her stomach, feeling a sudden chill. "Now what do I do?" she whispered, staring at the floor. "What's the price?"
"I don't know," the Doctor said. "I have to think, I have to think." He spun in place, then stalked out of the ship. River followed, still clutching the apple.
The Doctor had barred the door to the corridor; he was leaning against it, deep in thought. "We can't get out while carrying matter from the castle grounds," he said absently. "But you've eaten that matter. It's part of you now. So we have to figure out how to circumvent the temporal dampener. How can we confuse it? Reset its parameters? Maybe. If I can get to the control room." He swung around, gripping the bar as if to lift it, but River slammed her hand down on top of his.
The Doctor glared at her, but River didn't move. "The music, Doctor," she said. "It's stopped. I think... they're coming."
He dropped to the floor and put his ear against the flagstones. "Ooh, you might be right," he said. "I think I hear a few – "
There was a crash against the door; River jumped back in shock. The Doctor stood up, wriggling a finger in the ear he'd had pressed to the ground. "Yup," he said. "They're coming."
"Yes," River said drily. "I can tell."
"So we're stuck here. I can't get to the dampener. What can I do from here? Nothing. Nothing. Can't be nothing, must be something, have to think," the Doctor muttered.
River turned away, crossing to the far wall and leaning her forehead against it. She couldn't see any other option. "Doctor," she said, unable to face him. "You have to go. It's me that's keeping you here. I'll pay whatever the price is. It was my fault." The noise in the corridor was increasing; she couldn't look at the door for fear it would crash down in front of her. She smoothed her hands through her hair, trying to ignore their trembling. "You have to leave before they break through," she added, trying to sound nonchalant.
His hand on her shoulder startled her into turning. He cupped her face between his hands and looked at her as if he'd never seen her before. "River Song, you mad, wonderful woman," he breathed. He hesitated for a moment, then leaned in and kissed her sweetly.
Before she could catch her breath he was away, pacing the room, ignoring the rising noise from outside and twirling his sonic screwdriver in his long, dexterous fingers. "Just leave me here," she tried to say, but he shushed her each time, his annoyance visibly mounting. Finally she turned back to examining the room they were in, tapping at the walls in hopes of discovering a hidden chamber or an escape route or even a booby trap she could turn on their attackers.
She was lying on the floor, examining what looked like a carving underneath one of the arrowslits, when he came to an abrupt halt beside her. He stuck out a hand and she took it, allowing him to draw her to her feet. He held both her hands in his and looked her in the eyes, and she knew without a doubt that she was going to hate whatever he had to say.
"So, the good news is, I figured out how to disrupt the temporal dampener," he said. "Simple, once I thought of it." He smiled, trying to cheer her up, but she wasn't so easily fooled.
"And the bad news, Doctor?" she asked.
"Well, the bad news. The bad news is, I'll have to stay here to do it. I can get you out, but then the field will rebound and the TARDIS will be stuck here for a while."
"No," she said.
"River – "
"No! Doctor, I am not leaving you here to pay for my mistakes," she said, turning away. She picked up the apple again, just for something to do with her hands.
"Here's the thing, though," he said from behind her. "I'm afraid I'm not giving you a choice."
"What do you – "
"Sorry about the journey, have to make sure they can't follow you, and don't worry," he said, cutting her off. "I'll see you soon." He jammed the sonic screwdriver against her wriststrap and sent her whirling off in time before she could say anything else.
Usually trips by vortex manipulator were quick and relatively smooth. This one seemed to go on forever; River was tossed about like flotsam in the ocean, dashed from place to place. Every time she thought the trip was over she would dematerialize again, back in the tide. Finally she landed permanently – in her own flat, she realized, just in time to lunge for the toilet.
She was sick twice before she gathered enough energy to stand up and rinse her mouth with water. The blows to her head and the disorientation of the rough trip left her weak; she clung to the edge of the sink and examined herself in the mirror. She looked wretched, she thought, hair bloody, face covered in dirt, clothes torn. Then she caught sight of the apple in the mirror, laying on the floor where she'd dropped it. That sent her back to the toilet, where she dry-heaved repeatedly, terror and guilt over what the Doctor might be enduring tying her stomach in knots even though there was nothing left in it.
When the spasms let up, she slumped back against the wall and cried. Worst-case scenarios flitted through her head. What did faeries do to people? Kidnapped them, or led them astray, she knew, but that didn't apply here, did it? Turned them into animals? She banged one fist against the floor, frustrated. She simply didn't know; her study had focused on facts, not legends. Though whoever had made that distinction didn't know everything, apparently.
Slowly, she rose to her feet; she cleaned her teeth, washed her face, bandaged her various cuts and bruises. She dropped her clothes on the ground, shrugged into her robe, and shuffled into her bedroom.
"Hi," said the Doctor, who was sitting on her bed.
"Doctor!" she gasped, and flung herself at him, running her hands over him and checking for injuries. "You escaped! Did you escape? How dare you send me away like that! What did they do to you?"
"Escape? No, I didn't escape," the Doctor said, capturing her hands in his. She looked at him closely; he looked tired, she thought, as if he had been stretched thin. "They weren't very happy that you got away, but they let me pay the price instead of chasing you. I was very persuasive. Once that was settled, I came here." He smiled gently.
River froze, feeling her single heartbeat speed up even as his double pulse thrummed steadily against her hands. He wouldn't tell her if she didn't ask, she knew. He wouldn't hold her responsible, either. She could go the rest of her life not having to know what he'd been through, not knowing what he'd saved her from, and he wouldn’t judge.
But she would. Coward, she told herself, and forced her voice to stay steady. "What was the price, Doctor?" she asked.
"Well, faeries, it's all about balance with them, and bargaining, and once I stopped talking I think I'd confused them a little, so it wasn't nearly as bad as it could be," he said, looking away.
"I'm not so easily confused," River said stubbornly. "What did it take?"
He squeezed her hands. "A hundred years," he replied.
"A hundred years?" River echoed. Her voice sounded far away to her own ears, as if she was standing back in the castle, words echoing through empty corridors. "A hundred years of your life? Oh, Doctor." Her eyes welled up with tears again.
He shrugged awkwardly. "Shh, don't cry, it's not so bad, for a Time Lord," he said, wiping the tears off her cheeks. "I had a spare hundred or so years sitting around. You wouldn't have. It wasn't even an option. Hush now. Time to rest your head."
She stood automatically and watched him turn down the covers on her bed. When he stepped back, though, she wrapped her arms around him and slid his jacket off his shoulders. "Stay with me tonight," she asked quietly. Forgive me, she thought, and held her breath as he studied her face. Only when he tugged off his braces and undid his bowtie did she relax.
He stripped to his boxers and climbed into bed, holding up the covers as she joined him. She eyed him covertly, looking for signs of age as she curled into his side. There were a few extra lines on his face, a new scar across his ribs, but his hearts beat just as strongly as ever under her ear, and the knot inside her relaxed a little further.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"Ah, don't worry about it," he replied. "A hundred years? What's that to a man with a time machine?" He kissed her temple. "Don't think about it any more, River," he said softly. "I don't regret a moment of it." She drifted off to sleep to the soft pressure of him stroking her curls.
When she woke in the morning he was in the kitchen, cheerfully dismantling her toaster. "Five minutes," he promised, "and it'll be better than ever, you wait and see." She shook her head at him fondly and went to deal with her hair.
The apple was on the floor in the toilet.
The sight hit her like a physical blow. She snatched it up and darted back to her room, looking desperately for somewhere to hide it. Finally she grabbed a pair of socks, wrapped the apple up, and shoved the bundle back in a drawer. Slamming it shut, she backed away, eyeing it cautiously.
There was a loud bang; she jumped, but it had come from the kitchen, and a small puff of smoke floated through the door. The Doctor's voice followed it. "Um, River, about that toaster," he said sheepishly.
She smiled, overwhelmed by a sudden rush of joy. "Coming, Doctor," she called. One last glance at the drawer and then she darted out of the room, throwing herself onto the Doctor's lap and kissing him despite the fact that her toaster was melting into her kitchen table. "Shall we go out for breakfast, sweetie?" she asked, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I know this great place on Alpha Centauri..."
She'd pull the apple out after he was gone, she thought, and put it somewhere visible. That way she wouldn't forget. That way maybe she could find some way, someday, to repay the Doctor for the sacrifice he'd made for her. She didn't like owing debts.
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Date: 2010-08-05 08:02 am (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2010-08-05 03:35 pm (UTC)Plus, I am a bit in awe of fic writers who can sit down and just tell a story: straight-forward, prose, real plot, solid characterization, no tricks or showing off. Trusting it all to stand on its own merits. And you do all that really, really well.
Her mental map of the castle lined up perfectly, and soon she was back in the same featureless corridor she remembered from earlier
For some unknown reason this little throwaway line made me really happy. I bet she is really good with directions.
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Date: 2010-08-09 01:44 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-08-05 04:54 pm (UTC)<3
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Date: 2010-08-15 01:30 pm (UTC)I'm slapping hand to forehead because I forgot but I wanted to let you know I've been enjoying these stories and look forward to the next!
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