Only Stand and Wait ('Sun' entry)
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who_contestTitle: Only Stand and Wait
Rating: PG
Genre: Missing Scene
Word Count: 415
Pairings or Characters: The Eleventh Doctor, Barnable
Warnings: None.
Summary: The Doctor stays for Christmas.
AN: Title is filched from Milton.
Up on the tower the fire was burning low. The wood was damp from the rain, and an occasional spark leapt up to catch at the Doctor’s coat sleeves. More and more often, it seemed, he was quiet like this, with no toy or scheme to animate him in the pause between each battle. He turned at the sound of footsteps, and his face recast itself into a smile. Recognition followed a moment later.
“Barnable. No, my mistake- Barnable plus guest. Well. This is an honour.”
The child gave a small cry as she stirred, raising her head from Barnable’s shoulder. He lowered her to the ground and she tottered there, still mute with sleep. The climb had left him almost as unsteady, sweat prickling along the collar of his winter coat, and he resolved to bring a helper next time. One of the older boys, perhaps. “You remember Elsie?”
The Doctor reached for the girl’s hand and shook it, once, gravely. “Ah. You made another one.”
Barnable felt the breath catch in his own throat. “My granddaughter, Doctor. We came for the dawn.”
“Of course. Best view in all of Christmas.”
In years past whole generations had huddled around the bell to see in each new day. Now rainwater collected in the grooves worn into the stonework by the pressure of so many chairs. Barnable crouched next to Elsie and whispered of Draconians and Hooloovoos when she began to fret. It was from the Doctor that he had first learnt the precious mutability of truth. A box could be both big and little at the same time; a story beyond ancient, yet brand new at each retelling. Things that could not be the case on Trenzalore were true on other worlds, in different eras, and so they might be spoken of aloud. Elsie was not yet old enough to recognise that there were limits on what was possible; his secret hope was that she never would.
Perhaps because they were waiting for it, the light seemed slow to break that morning. The mountains felt the change first, the snow yielding into a thin line of gold along their ridges. Then the mist began to lift from the valley. One by one, the windows in each house were set ablaze.
The two old men had forgotten each other. The tightness was back in Barnable’s chest, and he gripped at the parapet for support.
Beside him Elsie laughed, and stretched out her arms towards the sun.
Rating: PG
Genre: Missing Scene
Word Count: 415
Pairings or Characters: The Eleventh Doctor, Barnable
Warnings: None.
Summary: The Doctor stays for Christmas.
AN: Title is filched from Milton.
Up on the tower the fire was burning low. The wood was damp from the rain, and an occasional spark leapt up to catch at the Doctor’s coat sleeves. More and more often, it seemed, he was quiet like this, with no toy or scheme to animate him in the pause between each battle. He turned at the sound of footsteps, and his face recast itself into a smile. Recognition followed a moment later.
“Barnable. No, my mistake- Barnable plus guest. Well. This is an honour.”
The child gave a small cry as she stirred, raising her head from Barnable’s shoulder. He lowered her to the ground and she tottered there, still mute with sleep. The climb had left him almost as unsteady, sweat prickling along the collar of his winter coat, and he resolved to bring a helper next time. One of the older boys, perhaps. “You remember Elsie?”
The Doctor reached for the girl’s hand and shook it, once, gravely. “Ah. You made another one.”
Barnable felt the breath catch in his own throat. “My granddaughter, Doctor. We came for the dawn.”
“Of course. Best view in all of Christmas.”
In years past whole generations had huddled around the bell to see in each new day. Now rainwater collected in the grooves worn into the stonework by the pressure of so many chairs. Barnable crouched next to Elsie and whispered of Draconians and Hooloovoos when she began to fret. It was from the Doctor that he had first learnt the precious mutability of truth. A box could be both big and little at the same time; a story beyond ancient, yet brand new at each retelling. Things that could not be the case on Trenzalore were true on other worlds, in different eras, and so they might be spoken of aloud. Elsie was not yet old enough to recognise that there were limits on what was possible; his secret hope was that she never would.
Perhaps because they were waiting for it, the light seemed slow to break that morning. The mountains felt the change first, the snow yielding into a thin line of gold along their ridges. Then the mist began to lift from the valley. One by one, the windows in each house were set ablaze.
The two old men had forgotten each other. The tightness was back in Barnable’s chest, and he gripped at the parapet for support.
Beside him Elsie laughed, and stretched out her arms towards the sun.
(no subject)
Date: 2015-07-06 03:48 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2015-07-06 07:43 pm (UTC)