Title: Eclipse
Rating: R
Pairing: Ten/Donna (Friendship, UST)
Word Count: 1,026
Summary: Donna feels like there’s something she’s missing. Spoilers for Doctor Who 4.13 - Journey’s End.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. Story title inspired by The Frames.
Author’s Notes: Again - a post earlier than intended; but I had a lovely weekend away, which put me in a fabulous mood, and got me (at least tentatively) over my bit of writer’s block (perhaps driving across borders that you didn’t mean to is good for the muse? Because I crossed two borders, four times total, and only half of them were intentional.) And, more pressingly, I am posting in a shameless attempt to bribe![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
dana_cz into posting the next part of her latest amazing story Unexpected; I hope it works! Anyway - in reference to the chapter itself - FORESHADOWING like woah; and if/when you spot it, let me know what you think of it? Enjoy :)
Part One: Eulalie
Part Two: Desperate Moments In Linear Time
Part Three: Ontological Subjectivity
Part Four: Better Than One
Part Five: Ātman
Part Six: Only
Part Seven: Two To Tango
Part Eight: Sonnets To A Dark Lady
Part Nine: The Forgotten Tide
Part Ten: Fifth Symphony in Ood Minor
He supposes he shouldn’t be surprised when Donna takes them here, of all places, but it doesn’t change the fact that he is - surprised, that is - at her choice of destination. Surprised, and just a bit unsettled.
The Ood-Sphere isn’t much different than before, barring the lack of containment facilities and the advent of great, towering Ood-Domes that break the sprawling winter of their planet in perfect symmetry, lining the landscape with an admirably stunning sort of geometric precision. He breathes deeply, surveying the sight of countless Ood-kind, young and old, living in peace and prosperity, unfettered and free; the sharp burn of the frigid air against his lungs is tempered pleasantly by the warmth in his chest at realizing that he’d had a part in making this possible; that he’d helped to secure a future for these peaceful creatures. He’d done that.
Him and his Donna.
She’s a natural with the children, Donna; she’s huddled into the very same parka from their last visit, buried knee-deep in snow as she catches the tiny Ood who are singing to her, circling her playfully and diving at her in turn - the game doesn’t seem to have much of a point, really, but he’s not sure it matters much; the pure joy on her face as she laughs, as the Ood seem to laugh along with her, carefree and jubilant, make his hearts soar in a way he hasn’t quite felt in decades, and it’s like a free-fall - invigorating and exhilarating and utterly terrifying all at once. They all seem to love her, the small Ood, but there’s one in particular that takes to her more strongly than the others; Ood Sigma’s young offspring, Ood Theta Sigma.
He knows that Donna doesn’t remember his real name anymore, if she ever really knew it to begin with - she’d never mentioned it, and it was one thing he made certain to take when he erased his memories from her mind. She had said she’d wanted to know him, on his own terms. Therefore, if she was going to learn such an intimate secret, known to so few living souls, he was going to tell her himself.
The Doctor can’t help but think it’s too much of a coincidence.
----------------------------------------
Donna can’t quite justify what it is about the miniature Ood that makes them so exquisite to her mind, but she adores them, every single one of them. She remembers the Library, and what it felt like to be a mother, and that rush of maternal affection floods her again in a much more real way as the small children leap towards her arms and she catches them, safe and warm in her grasp before letting them sink into the mounds of powdery snow as they shake with giggles, and their parents watch contentedly, their song pleasant and soothing in her mind as they observe from a distance.
The children tire after some time, their exuberance fading slightly after a while, even as they fight their heavy eyelids, and Donna can’t help but admit that she’s a bit knackered herself. She smiles softly when one of the adult Ood approaches and herds the younglings back towards their families; she recognizes him by his soft eyes and the feel of his presence before she notices the telling letter sigma embroidered on his tunic. He nods her way as he nudges his son, Theta Sigma, back towards the taller Ood that Donna assumes to be his mother. “Your song ended,” he speaks with a deferential nod, his voice low and soothing as ever.
Donna smiles softly, thinking of how ominous his words had sounded before; wondering if he’d always known the truth of them, that this would be her path. “I suppose it did, in a way,” she admits, her cheeks bright with the whipping wind as she flinches against a particular gust; Ood Sigma shuffles his feet a bit to stand between her and the torrent, blocking the chill.
“And a new one began,” he intones, his eyes smiling as he watches her carefully.
Donna grins, her gaze flitting over the children to their side, clutching at the legs of their parents, huddling into them. “Many new ones,” she says, inclining her head towards the new generations of Ood; Ood Sigma follows her nod and bows his head slowly, gratefully in response.
“We are indebted to you,” he tells her solemnly, so filled with reverence that it makes her stomach flutter. “Forevermore.”
“Don’t be silly,” Donna shakes her head and flips her wrist in dismissal. “We only wanted to help.”
Ood Sigma nods slowly, and Donna can tell that the subject would drop, but not rest. “We spoke only truth,” he picks up again, his eyes steady as they watch her. “You will never be forgotten.”
Donna can’t quite meet his gaze as she recalls the circumstances of her previous visit to the Ood-Sphere, tears threatening as she remembers their captivity, their suffering. “Thank you,” she whispers brokenly, trying to reign her emotions.
“You will have a new song, now,” Ood Sigma assures her, his tone strong and certain. “A song all your own.”
Donna scrunches up her face, eyeing him cautiously as the sun begins to shine brighter, squinting at him through the rays. “How d’you mean?”
Ood Sigma doesn’t expand on his observation; not that Donna much expects him to. Instead, he simply tells her with conviction, with something close to serenity: “Be a song, Doctor Donna. A Song.”
“A song?” she asks in utter confusion, trying to determine what exactly the Ood is telling her.
“A long and winding song that never fades,” Ood Sigma reveals cryptically, the ever-present hymn his people growing louder in the background as he turns to walk away, adding before he returns to his family one last thought, infused with such gravity, such weight, that it makes Donna nervous; “Be a song, like the river.”
It feels more like an omen than a prophecy, in the end; and she just knows there’s something she’s missing.
Part Eleven: Ragnarök
Rating: R
Pairing: Ten/Donna (Friendship, UST)
Word Count: 1,026
Summary: Donna feels like there’s something she’s missing. Spoilers for Doctor Who 4.13 - Journey’s End.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. Story title inspired by The Frames.
Author’s Notes: Again - a post earlier than intended; but I had a lovely weekend away, which put me in a fabulous mood, and got me (at least tentatively) over my bit of writer’s block (perhaps driving across borders that you didn’t mean to is good for the muse? Because I crossed two borders, four times total, and only half of them were intentional.) And, more pressingly, I am posting in a shameless attempt to bribe
dana_cz into posting the next part of her latest amazing story Unexpected; I hope it works! Anyway - in reference to the chapter itself - FORESHADOWING like woah; and if/when you spot it, let me know what you think of it? Enjoy :)Part One: Eulalie
Part Two: Desperate Moments In Linear Time
Part Three: Ontological Subjectivity
Part Four: Better Than One
Part Five: Ātman
Part Six: Only
Part Seven: Two To Tango
Part Eight: Sonnets To A Dark Lady
Part Nine: The Forgotten Tide
Part Ten: Fifth Symphony in Ood Minor
He supposes he shouldn’t be surprised when Donna takes them here, of all places, but it doesn’t change the fact that he is - surprised, that is - at her choice of destination. Surprised, and just a bit unsettled.
The Ood-Sphere isn’t much different than before, barring the lack of containment facilities and the advent of great, towering Ood-Domes that break the sprawling winter of their planet in perfect symmetry, lining the landscape with an admirably stunning sort of geometric precision. He breathes deeply, surveying the sight of countless Ood-kind, young and old, living in peace and prosperity, unfettered and free; the sharp burn of the frigid air against his lungs is tempered pleasantly by the warmth in his chest at realizing that he’d had a part in making this possible; that he’d helped to secure a future for these peaceful creatures. He’d done that.
Him and his Donna.
She’s a natural with the children, Donna; she’s huddled into the very same parka from their last visit, buried knee-deep in snow as she catches the tiny Ood who are singing to her, circling her playfully and diving at her in turn - the game doesn’t seem to have much of a point, really, but he’s not sure it matters much; the pure joy on her face as she laughs, as the Ood seem to laugh along with her, carefree and jubilant, make his hearts soar in a way he hasn’t quite felt in decades, and it’s like a free-fall - invigorating and exhilarating and utterly terrifying all at once. They all seem to love her, the small Ood, but there’s one in particular that takes to her more strongly than the others; Ood Sigma’s young offspring, Ood Theta Sigma.
He knows that Donna doesn’t remember his real name anymore, if she ever really knew it to begin with - she’d never mentioned it, and it was one thing he made certain to take when he erased his memories from her mind. She had said she’d wanted to know him, on his own terms. Therefore, if she was going to learn such an intimate secret, known to so few living souls, he was going to tell her himself.
The Doctor can’t help but think it’s too much of a coincidence.
----------------------------------------
Donna can’t quite justify what it is about the miniature Ood that makes them so exquisite to her mind, but she adores them, every single one of them. She remembers the Library, and what it felt like to be a mother, and that rush of maternal affection floods her again in a much more real way as the small children leap towards her arms and she catches them, safe and warm in her grasp before letting them sink into the mounds of powdery snow as they shake with giggles, and their parents watch contentedly, their song pleasant and soothing in her mind as they observe from a distance.
The children tire after some time, their exuberance fading slightly after a while, even as they fight their heavy eyelids, and Donna can’t help but admit that she’s a bit knackered herself. She smiles softly when one of the adult Ood approaches and herds the younglings back towards their families; she recognizes him by his soft eyes and the feel of his presence before she notices the telling letter sigma embroidered on his tunic. He nods her way as he nudges his son, Theta Sigma, back towards the taller Ood that Donna assumes to be his mother. “Your song ended,” he speaks with a deferential nod, his voice low and soothing as ever.
Donna smiles softly, thinking of how ominous his words had sounded before; wondering if he’d always known the truth of them, that this would be her path. “I suppose it did, in a way,” she admits, her cheeks bright with the whipping wind as she flinches against a particular gust; Ood Sigma shuffles his feet a bit to stand between her and the torrent, blocking the chill.
“And a new one began,” he intones, his eyes smiling as he watches her carefully.
Donna grins, her gaze flitting over the children to their side, clutching at the legs of their parents, huddling into them. “Many new ones,” she says, inclining her head towards the new generations of Ood; Ood Sigma follows her nod and bows his head slowly, gratefully in response.
“We are indebted to you,” he tells her solemnly, so filled with reverence that it makes her stomach flutter. “Forevermore.”
“Don’t be silly,” Donna shakes her head and flips her wrist in dismissal. “We only wanted to help.”
Ood Sigma nods slowly, and Donna can tell that the subject would drop, but not rest. “We spoke only truth,” he picks up again, his eyes steady as they watch her. “You will never be forgotten.”
Donna can’t quite meet his gaze as she recalls the circumstances of her previous visit to the Ood-Sphere, tears threatening as she remembers their captivity, their suffering. “Thank you,” she whispers brokenly, trying to reign her emotions.
“You will have a new song, now,” Ood Sigma assures her, his tone strong and certain. “A song all your own.”
Donna scrunches up her face, eyeing him cautiously as the sun begins to shine brighter, squinting at him through the rays. “How d’you mean?”
Ood Sigma doesn’t expand on his observation; not that Donna much expects him to. Instead, he simply tells her with conviction, with something close to serenity: “Be a song, Doctor Donna. A Song.”
“A song?” she asks in utter confusion, trying to determine what exactly the Ood is telling her.
“A long and winding song that never fades,” Ood Sigma reveals cryptically, the ever-present hymn his people growing louder in the background as he turns to walk away, adding before he returns to his family one last thought, infused with such gravity, such weight, that it makes Donna nervous; “Be a song, like the river.”
It feels more like an omen than a prophecy, in the end; and she just knows there’s something she’s missing.
Part Eleven: Ragnarök
Current Music: Mrs. Potter's Lullaby by Counting Crows
29 comments | Leave a comment