Journey, Home; Doctor Who; PG13
Oct. 2nd, 2007 11:56 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
morgynleriTitle: Journey
Previous Parts: Night, Moon, Sun, Day
Notes: And this is the final segment of this story. Let me know what you think!
Home
Find the answers, ask the questions
Sister turns her head up to look at the star-studded sky, an eerie ululation rising into the night. She wonders for a moment which pin-prick of light is the star which once gave life to the Doctor's planet. Which one had haunted the Seer's dreams until he died.
The forest around her is silent when she is done her mourning cry. Soon the sun will rise again, and she'll have to return to the city and the rooms she had shared with Brother and the Seer. A home she could not imagine leaving, no matter the sad memory of leavetaking.
Find the roots of an ancient tree
Brother also mourns in the night, standing atop the roof of a small nesting-room at the edge of the city. He wonders what kept Sister on the planet where the Seer had died, why she has not come home with him. He is lonely here by himself, and the people do not understand.
He does not wonder about the Seer, certain he is better off released from his curse than he had ever been before. He can only hope that whatever the curse, it is not one that can be spread to any fledges he might have. He would not wish the life his brother had on anyone.
Take me dancing, take me singing
The Seer rests one clawed hand against the railing, watching the Doctor move around the console, taking the TARDIS someplace. The hum of the ship soothes him, the chaotic visions he's seen all his life fading as they hurtle through time and space.
He doesn't look at the small, crumpled form on the decking, though he knows that body is his own. It doesn't matter anymore. Just a physical shell, and he's going home. Home. A planet that doesn't exist, where millions died. A graveyard, but more home than either nest ever had been.
I'll ride on until the moon meets the sea
The Doctor stands at the console, watching the blip on the screen that was the body of the Seer as it drifts towards the star. The pain knotted between his hearts eases a little as he leaves a body to be consumed in the marker for the grave of a people. A body to bury, someone who saw the war when he should have been enjoying his childhood.
He curls his fingers around the edge of the cool metal a moment, a fleeting thought of where to go next crossing his mind, the Seer's words chasing it, an echo in his head.
Past is future is present is past.
The corners of his mouth curl up into a manic grin for a split-second before he starts fiddling with controls, the TARDIS dematerializing, and slipping back into the Vortex. The linear past might be a good place to start puzzling out this riddle.
Previous Parts: Night, Moon, Sun, Day
Notes: And this is the final segment of this story. Let me know what you think!
Find the answers, ask the questions
Sister turns her head up to look at the star-studded sky, an eerie ululation rising into the night. She wonders for a moment which pin-prick of light is the star which once gave life to the Doctor's planet. Which one had haunted the Seer's dreams until he died.
The forest around her is silent when she is done her mourning cry. Soon the sun will rise again, and she'll have to return to the city and the rooms she had shared with Brother and the Seer. A home she could not imagine leaving, no matter the sad memory of leavetaking.
Brother also mourns in the night, standing atop the roof of a small nesting-room at the edge of the city. He wonders what kept Sister on the planet where the Seer had died, why she has not come home with him. He is lonely here by himself, and the people do not understand.
He does not wonder about the Seer, certain he is better off released from his curse than he had ever been before. He can only hope that whatever the curse, it is not one that can be spread to any fledges he might have. He would not wish the life his brother had on anyone.
The Seer rests one clawed hand against the railing, watching the Doctor move around the console, taking the TARDIS someplace. The hum of the ship soothes him, the chaotic visions he's seen all his life fading as they hurtle through time and space.
He doesn't look at the small, crumpled form on the decking, though he knows that body is his own. It doesn't matter anymore. Just a physical shell, and he's going home. Home. A planet that doesn't exist, where millions died. A graveyard, but more home than either nest ever had been.
The Doctor stands at the console, watching the blip on the screen that was the body of the Seer as it drifts towards the star. The pain knotted between his hearts eases a little as he leaves a body to be consumed in the marker for the grave of a people. A body to bury, someone who saw the war when he should have been enjoying his childhood.
He curls his fingers around the edge of the cool metal a moment, a fleeting thought of where to go next crossing his mind, the Seer's words chasing it, an echo in his head.
Past is future is present is past.
The corners of his mouth curl up into a manic grin for a split-second before he starts fiddling with controls, the TARDIS dematerializing, and slipping back into the Vortex. The linear past might be a good place to start puzzling out this riddle.
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no subject
Date: 2007-10-10 02:14 am (UTC)though I'd like to read through the piece as a whole; I'm having a tough time embracing the gestalt reading it in electronic parts. Maybe if I make it to Bowie tomorrow...
no subject
Date: 2007-10-10 02:01 pm (UTC)