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Jan. 27th, 2013 04:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ljgeoffTitle: Lullaby
Authors: ljgeoff
word count: 768
He wasn’t sure where he was.
The sun was yellow. The air was cool and redolent of pine. Could be Earth, smelled like it. No hydrocarbons or wood smoke, but the nitrogen-oxygen ratio smelled about right. Not that it mattered.
Four unsteady steps - he hadn’t realized he was standing - and he could lean his shoulder against the TARDIS. He saw his hand when he turned slightly to reach for the door. It was a powerful hand, and he liked that. It reminded him of his third incarnation.
His jacket was in shreds, a good thing since it was now much too small. He rolled his shoulders under the coat and, without a breath, opened the door and entered.
“Oh,” his breath puffed out. “Fantastic.”
He took a circuit around the control room, his fingers trailing along the coral columns. At the central panel, he let his eyes fall shut while his hands found the controls - alarmingly different but comfortingly familiar under his fingertips. He tipped his head back and opened his eyes, letting them roam up the rotor’s new height. Without looking down, he set the controls and threw the dematerialization switch, sending the TARDIS and himself into the void.
That might have been a mistake; the room spun around him. He thought something was wrong with the TARDIS until he staggered to his hands and knees, fighting vertigo. No, not the TARDIS. Good. That was very good. Darkness blossomed and he fell.
He woke with his head on someone’s lap. Fabric brushed the back of his neck, tickled his ear. He could feel thigh muscles tense slightly beneath him, could smell that this was a woman.
He cracked an eye open. She was rather lovely. Brown curls framed a strong-boned face that shouldn’t be so delicate. Her clothing had once been lovely, flowers and lack, but was now torn and dirty. When she smiled down at him, gold flickered behind her eyes.
“Hello.” He thought his voice sounded a bit breathless.
“Hello,” she greeted him back.
“You’re my TARDIS,” he observed.
She nodded. “It’s very odd.” She laid her palm on his forehead and then lifted it to stroke her fingers there.
His senses brushed against her. Horribly, unforgivably rude, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. She was his TARDIS, after all.
His TARDIS, his beautiful -
The song.
Oh.
There it was, and he wasn’t surprised, not at all. It was what wound about his dreams, had done so even before he knew a note of it existed … the only security he had ever needed -
A note in the song soared, flew and grew and changed to a call, a wail. It became a howl, the ferocity of which never once disturbed the beauty of the song. Nor did it disturb him. He closed his eyes, trying to follow that note to its source. He found he could not. Had she blocked the way? He opened his eyes again, to gaze directly and unexpectedly into her own. They were pure gold now.
“You … You …”
She was song and light, familiar but like nothing he had ever encountered. He blinked, one hand clutching at the grate beneath him, as if he was dangling over a precipice or befuddled by the endlessness of space.
“Who are you,” he whispered. A dream, he wanted her to say.
Her fingers trailed over his lips, stilling them. “Shhh.”
He closed his eyes, still completely at ease. He worried at that for a moment and then mentally shrugged.
She petted him, one hand smoothing across his chest and the other on his head, nails scraping gently down his scalp. “Rest,” she said. “The regeneration saps your ability and senses. You are weakened.”
“Supposed to be dead,” he muttered. He decided that he must be dreaming.
“No, my Doctor.” There was a smile in her voice. “Time requires a Time Lord.”
The Doctor blew out a short, pained breath. “Done enough, me. Time can go blow itself.”
She chuckled low and pressed a kiss on his brow. “Sleep,” she suggested.
Surprisingly, he did.
He woke, startled, in his bed, unsure of how he got there. He remembered the smell of pines, the control room, changed but fantastic, and falling -
He lifted his hand and stroked the wall of the TARDIS, nodding at the feel of Her flying the void. Safe, then. He patted the wall. Good girl. With a sigh, he closed his eyes and slipped back into sleep while a song, unheard, encompassed threnody and encomium as it wove about his hearts.
-end-
Authors: ljgeoff
word count: 768
He wasn’t sure where he was.
The sun was yellow. The air was cool and redolent of pine. Could be Earth, smelled like it. No hydrocarbons or wood smoke, but the nitrogen-oxygen ratio smelled about right. Not that it mattered.
Four unsteady steps - he hadn’t realized he was standing - and he could lean his shoulder against the TARDIS. He saw his hand when he turned slightly to reach for the door. It was a powerful hand, and he liked that. It reminded him of his third incarnation.
His jacket was in shreds, a good thing since it was now much too small. He rolled his shoulders under the coat and, without a breath, opened the door and entered.
“Oh,” his breath puffed out. “Fantastic.”
He took a circuit around the control room, his fingers trailing along the coral columns. At the central panel, he let his eyes fall shut while his hands found the controls - alarmingly different but comfortingly familiar under his fingertips. He tipped his head back and opened his eyes, letting them roam up the rotor’s new height. Without looking down, he set the controls and threw the dematerialization switch, sending the TARDIS and himself into the void.
That might have been a mistake; the room spun around him. He thought something was wrong with the TARDIS until he staggered to his hands and knees, fighting vertigo. No, not the TARDIS. Good. That was very good. Darkness blossomed and he fell.
He woke with his head on someone’s lap. Fabric brushed the back of his neck, tickled his ear. He could feel thigh muscles tense slightly beneath him, could smell that this was a woman.
He cracked an eye open. She was rather lovely. Brown curls framed a strong-boned face that shouldn’t be so delicate. Her clothing had once been lovely, flowers and lack, but was now torn and dirty. When she smiled down at him, gold flickered behind her eyes.
“Hello.” He thought his voice sounded a bit breathless.
“Hello,” she greeted him back.
“You’re my TARDIS,” he observed.
She nodded. “It’s very odd.” She laid her palm on his forehead and then lifted it to stroke her fingers there.
His senses brushed against her. Horribly, unforgivably rude, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. She was his TARDIS, after all.
His TARDIS, his beautiful -
The song.
Oh.
There it was, and he wasn’t surprised, not at all. It was what wound about his dreams, had done so even before he knew a note of it existed … the only security he had ever needed -
A note in the song soared, flew and grew and changed to a call, a wail. It became a howl, the ferocity of which never once disturbed the beauty of the song. Nor did it disturb him. He closed his eyes, trying to follow that note to its source. He found he could not. Had she blocked the way? He opened his eyes again, to gaze directly and unexpectedly into her own. They were pure gold now.
“You … You …”
She was song and light, familiar but like nothing he had ever encountered. He blinked, one hand clutching at the grate beneath him, as if he was dangling over a precipice or befuddled by the endlessness of space.
“Who are you,” he whispered. A dream, he wanted her to say.
Her fingers trailed over his lips, stilling them. “Shhh.”
He closed his eyes, still completely at ease. He worried at that for a moment and then mentally shrugged.
She petted him, one hand smoothing across his chest and the other on his head, nails scraping gently down his scalp. “Rest,” she said. “The regeneration saps your ability and senses. You are weakened.”
“Supposed to be dead,” he muttered. He decided that he must be dreaming.
“No, my Doctor.” There was a smile in her voice. “Time requires a Time Lord.”
The Doctor blew out a short, pained breath. “Done enough, me. Time can go blow itself.”
She chuckled low and pressed a kiss on his brow. “Sleep,” she suggested.
Surprisingly, he did.
He woke, startled, in his bed, unsure of how he got there. He remembered the smell of pines, the control room, changed but fantastic, and falling -
He lifted his hand and stroked the wall of the TARDIS, nodding at the feel of Her flying the void. Safe, then. He patted the wall. Good girl. With a sigh, he closed his eyes and slipped back into sleep while a song, unheard, encompassed threnody and encomium as it wove about his hearts.
-end-
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Date: 2018-03-03 05:22 pm (UTC)