Voyages of Discovery (Chapter Eight)
Mar. 31st, 2007 11:43 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kalleahI'm posting earlier in the day than I normally would in honor of tonight's premiere. And Jacob's back. I think it's fairly obvious where things are going from here.
Again, new chapter tomorrow.
Previous Chapters
"Love, all alike, no season knows, nor clime, nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time."
John Donne
Rose might have allowed him to hold her for as long as he wanted, but the ever-present tolling of the bells called out to them. Without moving, the Doctor murmured, "They'll be wanting to feed us again before long." He withdrew, but only far away enough to study her face. "Hungry?"
Oddly enough, she was hungry. Her stomach rumbled loudly in agreement and the Doctor broke out into a surprised laugh. She pushed him playfully, coasting readily along with his new mood. "It's the bells. They make me hungry."
"Pavlov's Rose," he agreed.
She looked him up and down intently. "You're too thin," she said accusingly. She reached out a hand and felt his ribs underneath his jacket. "Skin and bones." He tried to skitter away but she leaned in, hands moving purposefully, skimming his abdomen and up his sides. She gave him an even, steady look. "You need chips," she diagnosed.
"Doubt they're on the menu here," he replied. "Lentils? Definitely. Brown bread? Most certainly. Even, I might dare venture," he paused and looked around, then raised his eyebrows and whispered conspiratorially, "cheese."
"Oh no," mock gasped Rose. She grabbed his arm and tugged him in the direction of the dining hall. "Let's get to it then." He squeezed her hand between his arm and his side and they set off, bounding step for step across the green grass, setting aside the uncertainties and the fears they both shared.
Their timing being less than impeccable ("Time Lord," smirked Rose), they had to wait for the monks to finish their prayers before sweeping into the dining hall with the others. Jacob's warm eyes sparkled with welcome and joy as they ate, and Rose for once found it difficult to respect the traditional silence of the meal. When they returned outside, the Doctor took her hand protectively in his, and she was content not to be far from his side.
"Rose," said Jacob, thoughtfully. "How did you come to be here?"
"I don't know," she admitted readily. "And neither does the Doctor."
Jacob shot a triumphant look at the Doctor, who glared back. "My dear Doctor," said the monk, sonorously, "I do believe I may have been right all along."
"Is that a polite way of saying 'I told you so'?" said the Doctor, with surprising mildness.
"I would never." Jacob grinned. "But I do recall mentioning -- once, I think -- that you would see Rose again one day, and I do also recall some, ah, lingering doubt on your part."
Rose burst into peals of laughter at the Doctor's long face. "He's got you there," she cried. "Jacob, is it a miracle, then?"
"There's no such thing as a miracle, or magic," said the Doctor, stiffly. "There are simply occurrences that we have not yet been able to explain scientifically. Or, perhaps," with a significant look back at Jacob, "that one's mind cannot fully comprehend."
"Oi," said Rose, jumping in. "That's rude, now."
The Doctor thrust up his chin, a little petulantly. Jacob's wide grin split his face from ear to ear. "Would you have preferred me to be wrong, then?" asked the monk.
"No, no, no, of course not. That's ridiculous. I am simply saying that there is an explanation, just one we don't know at the moment, that's all."
"Impossible," said Rose to Jacob. They grinned at one another conspiratorially.
"You're both having a great deal of fun at my expense," complained the Doctor. "Rose, you didn't even let me scan you properly, which would have answered all of the outstanding questions."
Rose considered his bravado for a moment. "Is there any danger?" she asked. "You said —" She swallowed, trying to push her fear away, choosing her words with care. "You said before that the rift could shatter both universes. Did I make it worse?" She thought of her mother and the baby, of Pete, of Mickey and Anna and everyone else that she had ever known. Her stomach lurched as she considered the consequences of what she had done.
The Doctor studied her in return and finally shook his head slowly, clearing her worry. "I don't see any evidence of a breach. Before, the universes were leaking into each other through the Void, like an oozing wound. This time, it's like — well, it's like nothing remarkable at all happened."
"How can that be?" wondered Rose, puzzled. Jacob, silent, had a reverent look on his aged face and allowed himself a gentle, knowing smile in her direction.
The Doctor gave a short bark of laughter. "Precisely my question. I don't know yet. I would expect to see some quite obvious evidence of a breach, even with just the sonic screwdriver, but I don't. You're here. That's all the evidence I have to go on at the moment."
"Forgive me," interrupted Jacob, glancing from the Doctor to Rose and back again. "I want very much to talk to you both, and hope I will have time to do so in the coming days. At the moment, I need to join the others for our own counsel and evening prayers." He bowed his head at Rose. "Rose, the little cottage is yours, as long as you want." His eyes shifted slightly to the Doctor, and then back to Rose, without further comment. "If you will excuse me?"
Rose let go, for a moment, of the Doctor's hand and hugged Jacob tightly. "Thank you," she whispered into his ear, her voice soft and meant for him alone, although she was sure the Doctor could hear if he wanted to. "Thank you for taking care of him."
Jacob patted her back and murmured in response. "It has been my great pleasure, Rose." She released him and reached back for the Doctor as Jacob walked steadily off toward the little church.
Rose felt the Doctor's hand in hers, his thumb lightly stroking her skin and raising goose bumps. With wordless agreement, they turned and walked down the well-worn, familiar path toward the little cottage.
Again, new chapter tomorrow.
Previous Chapters
"Love, all alike, no season knows, nor clime, nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time."
John Donne
Rose might have allowed him to hold her for as long as he wanted, but the ever-present tolling of the bells called out to them. Without moving, the Doctor murmured, "They'll be wanting to feed us again before long." He withdrew, but only far away enough to study her face. "Hungry?"
Oddly enough, she was hungry. Her stomach rumbled loudly in agreement and the Doctor broke out into a surprised laugh. She pushed him playfully, coasting readily along with his new mood. "It's the bells. They make me hungry."
"Pavlov's Rose," he agreed.
She looked him up and down intently. "You're too thin," she said accusingly. She reached out a hand and felt his ribs underneath his jacket. "Skin and bones." He tried to skitter away but she leaned in, hands moving purposefully, skimming his abdomen and up his sides. She gave him an even, steady look. "You need chips," she diagnosed.
"Doubt they're on the menu here," he replied. "Lentils? Definitely. Brown bread? Most certainly. Even, I might dare venture," he paused and looked around, then raised his eyebrows and whispered conspiratorially, "cheese."
"Oh no," mock gasped Rose. She grabbed his arm and tugged him in the direction of the dining hall. "Let's get to it then." He squeezed her hand between his arm and his side and they set off, bounding step for step across the green grass, setting aside the uncertainties and the fears they both shared.
Their timing being less than impeccable ("Time Lord," smirked Rose), they had to wait for the monks to finish their prayers before sweeping into the dining hall with the others. Jacob's warm eyes sparkled with welcome and joy as they ate, and Rose for once found it difficult to respect the traditional silence of the meal. When they returned outside, the Doctor took her hand protectively in his, and she was content not to be far from his side.
"Rose," said Jacob, thoughtfully. "How did you come to be here?"
"I don't know," she admitted readily. "And neither does the Doctor."
Jacob shot a triumphant look at the Doctor, who glared back. "My dear Doctor," said the monk, sonorously, "I do believe I may have been right all along."
"Is that a polite way of saying 'I told you so'?" said the Doctor, with surprising mildness.
"I would never." Jacob grinned. "But I do recall mentioning -- once, I think -- that you would see Rose again one day, and I do also recall some, ah, lingering doubt on your part."
Rose burst into peals of laughter at the Doctor's long face. "He's got you there," she cried. "Jacob, is it a miracle, then?"
"There's no such thing as a miracle, or magic," said the Doctor, stiffly. "There are simply occurrences that we have not yet been able to explain scientifically. Or, perhaps," with a significant look back at Jacob, "that one's mind cannot fully comprehend."
"Oi," said Rose, jumping in. "That's rude, now."
The Doctor thrust up his chin, a little petulantly. Jacob's wide grin split his face from ear to ear. "Would you have preferred me to be wrong, then?" asked the monk.
"No, no, no, of course not. That's ridiculous. I am simply saying that there is an explanation, just one we don't know at the moment, that's all."
"Impossible," said Rose to Jacob. They grinned at one another conspiratorially.
"You're both having a great deal of fun at my expense," complained the Doctor. "Rose, you didn't even let me scan you properly, which would have answered all of the outstanding questions."
Rose considered his bravado for a moment. "Is there any danger?" she asked. "You said —" She swallowed, trying to push her fear away, choosing her words with care. "You said before that the rift could shatter both universes. Did I make it worse?" She thought of her mother and the baby, of Pete, of Mickey and Anna and everyone else that she had ever known. Her stomach lurched as she considered the consequences of what she had done.
The Doctor studied her in return and finally shook his head slowly, clearing her worry. "I don't see any evidence of a breach. Before, the universes were leaking into each other through the Void, like an oozing wound. This time, it's like — well, it's like nothing remarkable at all happened."
"How can that be?" wondered Rose, puzzled. Jacob, silent, had a reverent look on his aged face and allowed himself a gentle, knowing smile in her direction.
The Doctor gave a short bark of laughter. "Precisely my question. I don't know yet. I would expect to see some quite obvious evidence of a breach, even with just the sonic screwdriver, but I don't. You're here. That's all the evidence I have to go on at the moment."
"Forgive me," interrupted Jacob, glancing from the Doctor to Rose and back again. "I want very much to talk to you both, and hope I will have time to do so in the coming days. At the moment, I need to join the others for our own counsel and evening prayers." He bowed his head at Rose. "Rose, the little cottage is yours, as long as you want." His eyes shifted slightly to the Doctor, and then back to Rose, without further comment. "If you will excuse me?"
Rose let go, for a moment, of the Doctor's hand and hugged Jacob tightly. "Thank you," she whispered into his ear, her voice soft and meant for him alone, although she was sure the Doctor could hear if he wanted to. "Thank you for taking care of him."
Jacob patted her back and murmured in response. "It has been my great pleasure, Rose." She released him and reached back for the Doctor as Jacob walked steadily off toward the little church.
Rose felt the Doctor's hand in hers, his thumb lightly stroking her skin and raising goose bumps. With wordless agreement, they turned and walked down the well-worn, familiar path toward the little cottage.
