The Lone Centurion

General Summary:

Rory must wait two thousand years to apologize to the woman he loves…but can he ever forgive himself? A series of mini-stories on the life of Auton-Rory that alternates between seriousness and comic absurdity.

The Dragon of Stonehenge

Mini-Story Summary:

In a new universe, one with a dead Amy and a starless sky, Rory finds the universe has changed in more ways than he'd ever expected. He faces his first surprising and deadly enemy as Auton-Rory as he struggles to come to terms with his new existence.

The first few days, he had lit torches to stave off the darkness. Then, having run out of both kindling and resolve, he just sat there in the musty half-light.

And there, Rory waited.

Someplace between the darkness and light: that was Rory. Every person wages an internal battle between good and evil, but Rory's struggle was exceptional—every day, every second, he fought off his Nestene programming and embraced his human memories. He'd let his dark side seize control of him once; that had gotten Amy killed and left him to protect the Pandorica. Whatever happened, Rory would never let the programming take control of him again.

Of course, this sounds wholly dramatic and a tad angst-ridden. The whole truth was that Rory spent most of his time shooting Dalek statues with his hand-gun. Rory took aim at an eye-stalk and let a laser blast fly. The brittle creature shattered into a million satisfying bits.

"The best part is, I don't even need to make pew-pew noises," said Rory. Did I really just say that out loud? He thought. My goodness, I'm losing my mind. Already.

He decided to keep on talking anyway. It helped stave off the loneliness. Rory patted the Pandorica.

"Oh, Amy," he addressed the box. "What on Earth have I gotten us into? You're dead, stasis locked, and we're stuck in a twisted version of reality. Oh, yeah, and I'm a plastic android Roman. Huh, and I trained to be a nurse! What a long way I've come." He put his elbows on his knees and rested his head on his hands. He suspected he'd be in that pose rather often, what with two thousand years to wait and all.

Rory lapsed into silence, staring at the solitary mote of sunlight filtering down into the Underhenge chamber. "Amy," he muttered, "I hope you'll forgive me someday."

In the sky several million miles away, at the center of a sun that wasn't a sun, an unheard voice whispered the song of Rory's heart, over and over.

I'm sorry, my love, said the Song.

Over the next year, Rory fell into a state of semi-consciousness. All the statues had long since been reduced to rubble, and Rory, running out of things to do, had taken to simply shutting down. It wasn't sleep by any means—more like the flitting half-dreams between sleep and wakefulness. It was a blessing, in a way, because he suspected he wouldn't like the dreams—or nightmares—he would undoubtedly experience anyway. On moonlit nights he'd sneak outside and stare into the starless sky, into the blackness, reminiscing about an almost-forgotten universe, a better universe, with star-strewn heavens. It reminded him that, even here, there was no such thing as total darkness; someplace, somewhere, there was a beacon of light and hope.

This was one such night. A full moon beamed overhead, and Rory leaned against a stone slab, settling in for another quiet evening. He decided that, tonight, the best way to pass the time would be to engage the moon in a staring contest. So, he glared at it. The moon glared back. Then, a smile crept across his face as the shadow of a cloud inched its way across the moon's diameter.

Rory raised his fist in the air. "Ha! I win," he yelled into the silence.

"Ha! I win," came the echo.

"HELLO," boomed Rory.

"HELLO," cried the echo.

"ECHO!" shouted Rory.

"SCREEEY!"

Rory jumped to his feet, heart pounding mechanically. What was that shriek? It was nothing he'd ever heard before. It didn't sound remotely human. He pulled his sword from his sheath and surveyed the nighttime landscape.

Nothing to the North? No. Nothing Southward either. Nor to the East, or to the West. From horizon to horizon, the land was devoid of anything larger than scrawny shrubbery. That left just one direction: up. Rory craned his neck in the direction of the sky. Overhead was nothing but blackness.

Wait, where was the moon?

As something swooped from the sky, knocking Rory unconscious, one last thought flit through his head: I wish the Doctor were here.

When he woke up, Rory's chest was bothering him. It wasn't really pain, but he suspected it was the closest thing his Auton body could get to saying "Hello! Something's malfunctioning over here." Without opening his eyes, he poked around his chest. There was a long cut in his breastplate, and beneath it…was that wiring he felt poking out of him? He pushed it back inside and tied his cloak around the breach. He'd need to patch himself up later. As he secured the knot in his cloak, his elbow rammed against something hard. A tree trunk, perhaps? Wait, where was he? He opened his eyes.

And he quickly shut them again.

No way, he thought. That's impossible. Completely absurd.

Ah, but the universe is smaller now, and different, said a part of his subconscious in a Doctor-like tone. Some things that should've happened never did, and some things happened that shouldn't have. Wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey and all that.

Still, there's a bloomin' pterosaur in front of me!

He opened his eyes once more. What he had thought was a tree trunk was actually the pterosaur's leg. Several meters to his left was another leg, and far beyond Rory's feet were a pair of batlike arm-wings. And a head. Not good; the head, from skull to beak tip, was at least two meters long, with a big bony crest on top that practically screamed, "I'm the king of the sky! Don't mess with this." So, a Quetzalcoatlus then: a flying dinosaur that dwarfed the golden eagle with a wingspan as long as the average school bus. Quite possibly the largest flying creature Earth had ever witnessed. And, it had poked its beak underneath its arms and, upside-down, was staring straight at him with eyes the size of tea saucers.

Okay, thought Rory, just back away slowly and everything'll be fine. It probably doesn't want to eat you. Probably.

He slowly crab-walked backwards. The dinosaur eyed his every move. He inched his arm backwards, shifted his weight, then moved his knee. Then the other arm, followed by its respective leg. And then he reached his hand out, and it touched nothing but air.

Rory craned his neck backwards to see what exactly the problem was.

"Oh," he said. "I'm on a cliff. I'm on the edge of a cliff. With a pterosaur eyeing me. Hello, pterosaur! This isn't good. Not good at all."

The Quetzalcoatlus cocked its head. Rory would have laughed at its bizarre pose if he hadn't been in such a bad situation.

"Um, well, you haven't eaten me yet," Rory addressed the creature. "How kind of you. But you did drag me all the way up here. That's odd."

"SCREEEY!" shrieked the Quetzalcoatlus.

"That's not helpful," said Rory. "So, anyway, it seems like I have a choice: stay up here with you and risk getting becoming your midnight snack, or jump over the edge, drop a few hundred feet and pray for a soft landing."

The pterosaur took a menacing step forward.

"Heh, I lied. It's no choice at all," said Rory, pulling himself to his feet. "In the words of a certain someone, Geronimo!" And with that, he hurled himself into the abyss.

His ascent wasn't remotely the free-fall Rory had hoped for. He slid along the nearly vertical cliff face, stopping every thirty feet or so for a rough collision with whatever happened to be in his way. The worst part was the noise: every sickening crunch of plastic on stone made Rory cringe.

And then, after a veritable hailstorm of loosened pebbles rained around him, Rory reached the bottom. Alive. He groaned. As far as he could tell, his only real injury was the dislocation of his left shoulder. He could fix that, but his first priority was getting away from the pterosaur and back to the Pandorica. One problem, though: he had no idea where he was. He took a moment to survey the scenery and spotted what could be campfires to the East. That looked promising. Eastwards, then! Rory used his right arm to pull himself to his feet and took off running. Being an Auton certainly had its disadvantages, but the ability to run like an Olympic pro wasn't one of them. As he peeled off across the landscape, Rory couldn't resist a little smile.

As Rory reached the campfires, he slowed his pace slightly. He could make out structures silhouetted against the firelight. Maybe he could stop and ask if the locals knew how to find Stonehenge. Upon reaching the village, his sprint dissolved to a slow walk. He raised his right hand in greeting and scanned the area for villagers. The place seemed to be deserted, but Rory knew well enough that appearances could be deceiving.

"Hello?" he called cautiously. "Is anyone here?"

A little girl poked her head around one of the huts, looking excited, but then a pair of hands pulled her back.

"Get back, Rae!" said a female voice. "You know it's not safe."

"Shh," warned another.

The voices stopped as Rory grew closer. He carefully strode around the hut. As he rounded the corner, he saw two women and the girl cowering against the wall.

"It's OK," said Rory. "It's safe. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm, uh, new here."

Rae extricated herself from her mother's arms and ran up to tug at Rory's tunic. "I'm Rae. Guess what? I'm six and a half."

"By George, six and a half, huh?" said Rory, leaning down. "You're almost grown up already!"

Rae grinned proudly.

"Your name's George?" said Rae's mother. "I'm Kaie, and this is my sister Keelin. We call her Lin."

Rory opened his mouth to correct Kaie, and then shut it again. It wouldn't do to have his name floating around history. Who knew what might happen? He could pretend to be George. After all, he was already pretending to be human—how much more difficult could a false name be? So he smiled and nodded. "Yup. Nice to meet you."

Rae tapped Rory's knee. "Mr. George, are you a Roman?"

"Yeah, sort of," said Rory. Rae's eyes widened. "Why, is that a bad thing?"

Lin butted in. "No, no, you're just who we need."

Rory was skeptical. "Really? You're locals, and Romans are the invaders. I wouldn't think you'd be on the best of terms."

Kaie looked uncomfortable. "We're not. But things've been happening here, terrible things, and we need somebody to stop it."

It didn't take a genius to see the shiver that ran through the three girls. They were afraid. No, not just afraid; they were terrified. Rae looked up tearfully. "It's the dragon!"

"The dragon?" Rory was confused for a moment. Then it dawned on him. "Oh, you mean the Quetzalcoatlus! Oh, I met him. Big fellow, wings, grumpy disposition? That's him."

"You met the dragon?" asked Kaie. "You saw it, and survived?"

Rory indicated his dislocated shoulder. "It wasn't easy. It involved a cliff, a long fall, and a heck of a lot of running."

Kaie looked inquisitive. "Oh, you're injured! Come inside and we'll fix you up. Lin, could you watch Rae for me?" Lin scooped Rae into her arms. "Come along, Mr. George. We must talk."

Rory was fortunate his Auton anatomy was so human-like, since as Kaie fingered Rory's shoulder, searching for his injury, she felt only what seemed to be bone, muscle, and skin. He stared at his toes, waving his feet through the air from his perch on the tall, crude wooden table, and tried to distract himself as Kaie prepared to snap his arm back into place.

"All, right," said Kaie, "I'm going to press in three…two…"

CRACK! Rory stifled a scream.

"…one. There, done. It's much easier if I do it before you expect it. Less tension, you see? Now, can you move your shoulder?"

Rory gingerly swiveled his arm. "Yeah," he said gruffly. "Thanks. Also, I need some thread and a needle, if you don't mind. I have a cut that needs stitching."

"Of course," acquiesced Kaie. "I could stitch it for you."

"No!" said Rory, too quickly. "I mean, thanks for the offer, but I'd prefer to do it myself."

"Suit yourself." Kaie handed him some coarse string and a bone needle.

"It's sort of in a…sensitive spot," Rory lied. "D'you mind?" Kaie grudgingly turned her back, giving him much-needed privacy. He untied his cloak, exposing the slash in his chest and the wiring beneath.

As Rory patched his wound, he asked, "So, Kaie, how do you know about the 'dragon'?"

He heard Kaie sigh. "It's a sad story. Last year, my husband went scouting with seven other village men. We stayed behind, as per usual. When they were two days overdue from their journey, we became worried, and began to search for them. We combed the area for weeks before we found them…or what was left of them. Not far from the Great Stone Circle"—this could only mean Stonehenge—"we found piles of snapped and scarred bones. They'd been picked clean by something massive, something terrifying. Other searchers thought they saw a shadow high above the forests, the shadow of a winged beast silhouetted against the sky. Those brave souls who searched further for the beast disappeared without a trace. Since then, villagers who wander off alone sometimes vanish, and we've seen wild beasts and solid trees that were ripped to shreds by that horrifying creature. We live in constant fear of it."

Her voice sounded crestfallen. "Poor Rae; she was only five when her father died. I'm glad Lin came back to help me care for her. I'd never be able to raise Rae by myself, especially in these dark times. That's why I'm glad you came. I'd like nothing more than to see the thing that destroyed my family slain, and I think you're the man to do it, George. Slay the dragon for us."

Rory used his teeth to tie a knot in the string, then clipped it short. Finished, he pulled his tunic back on.

"Don't worry, the 'dragon' seems to find me particularly attractive for some reason," he said. "I think it'll come for me eventually, and when it does, I'll be prepared and very far away."

"No," said Kaie.

"I'm sorry?" said Rory, turning to face her. Kaie's eyes were burning cold with anger.

"Kill it here. I want to see it die," she said savagely.

Rory wasn't quite sure how to respond, so he acknowledged her request with a look and then left through the hut's door. The bond between lovers was agonizing to break, as Rory knew all too well. Kaie's situation made him grateful that his soon-to-be-wife was still alive. He'd save her, just like he'd save this village. This was a task he could not fail.

Rory sat on a log and stared across the campfire at Rae. Rae stared back inquisitively as she spit-roasted some meat over the flames. Rory, however, wasn't hungry. He was never hungry.

"Mr. George, are you going to fight the dragon?" she asked.

"I'll try," said Rory. "Listen, I'm sorry about your dad."

Rae nodded. "I miss daddy."

"I'm sure you do."

"Mummy says he's living up in the sky. She says there used to be lights in the sky. She calls them 'stars.' Daddy's like a star. He's high in the sky too, and even though we can't see him now, we know he's there."

"You know what? I think she's right. And then, when the stars come back, your Daddy'll come back too."

"You think so?" asked Rae. "When will the stars come back?"

"Not soon enough," said Rory. "They're waiting, you see, for a man to come and fix them."

"What sort of man? Like you?" asked Rae. "You fix things. You're going to get rid of the dragon."

"No, not like me," said Rory. "A different man. A Doctor. He'll fix everything. The broken stars, the dragon, your Dad—none of that was supposed to happen. He'll put it right, you wait and see."

Rae began nibbling at her dinner. "I can't wait."

Rory sighed. "Me neither."

Little Rae ate in silence for the next few minutes, but Rory could tell she was forming a question. It finally burst out of her.

"Mr. George, Mommy always said the Romans were bad, bad people. Why is she helping you? Why did you come?"

Rory took a deep breath. It wasn't a particularly easy question to answer. "Rae, your mother loves you very much. She wants to protect you and Lin. The Romans sometimes do bad things, but the 'dragon' is much worse. Your mother trusts me because I can protect you, and I will."

"But why'd you come here? Were you chasing the dragon?"

"No, it was chasing me."

"Why?"

"Because it was hungry."

Rae stopped eating and looked at her half-consumed chunk of meat. "I get hungry too, but I don't eat people."

Rory smiled and pulled her into his arms. "That's because you're a little girl, you silly. Little girls don't eat people."

Rae giggled as Rory patted her on the head. "Mr. George, can you tell me a story? Mommy tells the same ones over and over. I want to hear something new. Please?" She looked at him with enormous puppy eyes. "I promise I'll be good, and then I'll go right to bed."

As Rae snuggled into Rory's lap, he gathered his thoughts. He had a lot of stories to choose from. "All right, I'll tell you a true story," he agreed.

"One day, a long time from now, a little girl was born," he began. "She had no parents, no family except her old aunt who took care of her. One day they moved to a big new house, far away from all her friends. She felt lonely, and desperately wished for someone to play with."

Rae fidgeted with excitement as Rory narrated the arrival of a man from the sky and his magical blue box, and the adventures the little girl had with her new friend. Tears welled up in her eyes after the man left the girl and didn't come back, and nobody believed her story. He was an imaginary friend, nothing more, they said. She was harassed and bullied her entire childhood.

"Mr. George, this is a really sad story," said Rae.

"I'm just getting to the good part," promised Rory. "You see, the girl—a woman now—was beginning to doubt she'd ever seen the man, that she'd been imagining things. But then, the man in his magical box returned!" Rae grinned as Rory recounted their next adventure, and shivered when he described Prisoner Zero. And the next time the man came, the man took the girl with her, and they traveled the stars together in the blue box.

"This isn't a real story," said Rae. "You're making it up. There are no such things as magical boxes."

"Aren't there?" asked Rory. "I have a box too, you know. A box I have to protect."

"Why? What's so special about it?"

"It's got something in it worth protecting."

"What, like a treasure?" asked Rae.

"The most valuable treasure imaginable."

"Really? I'd like to see sometime," said Rae, closing her eyes.

"You're going to sleep?" asked Rory. "Don't you want to hear the end of the story?"

"Does the story have an end?"

"No, not really," admitted Rory.

"Good. I like it better without an ending."

"Why's that?"

"The girl gets to do what she's wanted to do for her whole life. She's exploring the universe. I don't want to see it end. It'll be too sad."

"Some endings are happy."

"But at the end, everybody always dies."

Rory was about to contradict her, and opened his mouth, then stopped his train of thought and changed directions. "That doesn't mean there aren't happy endings," he said softly.

Rae didn't answer. She was sound asleep.

Rory slowly pulled Rae into his arms and stood. "Let's get you to bed, kiddo." He took a deep breath and spoke to her still form. "Rae, I've learned lots of things during my life, and you know what? Nothing's too wonderful to be true."

Kaie offered Rory her spare bed mat, but Rory refused. He wouldn't sleep even if he could. Worry continually gnawed at his mind. If the pterosaur pursued him, he would put Rae, Kaie, and Lin in danger. Whatever Kaie wanted, he couldn't stay here. So, he sat before the hut's front door until he was sure the villagers were asleep, and then stole towards the forest.

"Where're you off to?"

Rory turned on his heel to see Kaie, hand on her hips, looking both impertinent and hurt.

"I'm…uh…" he looked at his feet. "I was going to leave."

"Where?"

"Someplace far enough to keep your family safe."

Kaie moved closer. "Even though it was against my expressed wishes?"

Rory nodded.

Kaie smiled. "You're a good man, Mr. George."

"But?"

"But if you're going, then I'm coming with you."

"And what about Rae?"

"Lin'll look after her for me."

Rory wanted to say no, that Kaie should stay behind and care for her daughter, but the look on Kaie's face stopped the words in his throat. He nodded wordlessly.

They were in the open field when it happened. Somewhere overhead, a primal screech echoed around the landscape. Rory pulled his sword from its sheath with a metallic ching. Kaie crouched.

"Keep your eyes open, and stay down!" yelled Rory.

Kaie obliged. "George!" she warned. "Above y—"

Rory didn't hear the rest of the sentence. For the second time that day, the Quetzalcoatlus, unseen, seized him in its massive claws and dragged Rory into the air. Rory struggled to move his arm, and then, with a swift stroke, stabbed his sword into the pterosaur's foot. With an almighty shriek, it released him.

"George!" came Kaie's yell.

Rory plummeted through the air, twisting himself as best he could, trying to fall feet-first. Just when he felt he'd never hit the ground, he did. His knees buckled as his boots met dirt, but despite his wobbling, he remained upright.

"Get to the forest!" shouted Rory. "It can't follow us in there!" He could see the trees, within sprinting distance, and began to run as fast as he could. The pterosaur continued to shriek overhead, but both he and Kaie dove among the forest trunks without incident.

"What now?" panted Kaie.

"Not sure," said Rory. "It's not going to leave us, I think. For some reason, it's after me."

"And you don't know why?"

"No, no idea."

"Well, we're trapped," observed Kaie. "We can't leave the forest without being attacked, but we can't just stay here either."

"Well, do you have a plan?"

"I thought you'd be the one with the plan!" sputtered Kaie. "You took us out here. You just fell thirty meters and landed on your feet. Now you're telling me you're clueless?" Kaie sounded betrayed.

"Sorry. Just hush, all right? Let me think."

"You'd better," huffed Kaie.

Rory ignored the implied threat and began to pace. What would the Doctor do? he wondered. He doesn't have a sword, or a hand-gun. He doesn't even need them. His best weapon is his mind. So, think! What would he do?

Well, start by analyzing everything, said the Doctor-y part of Rory's subconscious. Something's out of place, and Rory Williams hasn't noticed. What did you miss?

"Any ideas?" snapped Kaie.

"Shh!" hissed Rory.

You just missed it, muttered his subconscious.

"What?" barked Rory.

"What?"

"Sorry, did I say that aloud?" asked Rory. "Oops. Anyway, hush. I'm on the verge of something."

"Yeah, you're on the verge of death," quipped Kaie.

"I said, hush," said Rory. Then he stopped in his tracks. "No! Wait, don't. Say something."

"Like what?"

"That. What language were you speaking?"

"Celtic, of course. So are you. We're both speaking Celtic. Which is a bit odd, isn't it? I didn't think many Romans bothered to learn the native tongue."

"You see, that's the thing," remarked Rory. "I don't speak a word of Celtic. To me, you're speaking English."

"What's that, a disease?"

Rory ignored that; he had nearly solved the puzzle. "So, if we understand each other, that means the TARDIS is still translating for me. It does that, you know. Maybe it's someplace nearby, or maybe it's something to do with my programming. Either way, I speak Celtic…so what other languages do I know? Or maybe, just maybe, I can speak things that aren't languages at all."

"I'm confused," said Kaie.

"Don't worry, that's how I feel whenever the Doctor's around. Anyway, if you can understand me, I bet that means the 'dragon' can too. It knows what I'm saying! And that, you see, is the key to the puzzle. Because what I didn't understand is, why would the pterosaur be after me? I'm not exactly an all-you-can-eat buffet."

"What? Why not?"

Because I'm a lump of plastic, thought Rory. "It doesn't matter," he said aloud. "But, I've got a solution! Stay here." And he sheathed his sword and strode into the open field.

"Get back here, you crazy Roman," called Kaie. "You're insane!"

"Maybe so," said Rory, striding forward, "but the pterosaur didn't attack me; it collected me, took me to a place it thought was safe. It didn't want to eat me at all, because it understood me." He stopped. "So, it'll probably hear me when I say GET DOWN HERE!"

And, as much to Rory's surprise as to his satisfaction, the dragon swooped from the sky to land in a magnificent heap before Rory's feet.

"Wow, that actually worked," said Rory before trying to assume a confident composure. "Imagine that! The king of the sky, and it's obeying my every word." The Quetzalcoatlus eyed him curiously. "Mind you, it's also eaten dozens of people. Not exactly docile, are you?" The "dragon" cocked its head.

"How did you do that?" asked Kaie, still hiding in the underbrush.

"It's the words," said Rory. "The Doctor always says that words are the best weapons. Imagine this poor pterosaur, far outside its time and completely alone. It needs some sort of companionship, just like you or I. So, when it heard my voice, a voice it could understand…it simply obeyed, because it's been such a long, lonely time. As odd as it may sound, it wants a friend." As he said it, the idea sounded bizarre. But, then, everything needed companionship, from man-eating pterosaurs to…plastic androids. Well, then, maybe this idea wasn't so far-fetched.

The Quetzalcoatlus panted in front of him. Wait…panted? Rory checked to make sure. Yep, its massive chest was heaving in and out as if it had just completed a marathon. Why would it be panting?

"Ohh," exclaimed Rory, "I understand now. You're far outside your time, which means you're also far outside your environment. You're used to a high-oxygen atmosphere, I bet. That's how you dinosaurs were able to get so big. But this time and place have a much lower O2 concentration. You're dying, am I right? You thought it was hunger, so you ate more. More people. But you just need oxygen! And I think I know where to find it."

"I'm completely lost," noted Kaie.

"Oh, I'm monologuing, aren't I?" asked Rory. "Sorry, but I'm on a roll. OK, dragon, listen up! I can help you, but you first must promise to never eat another human again. You agree?"

The Quetzalcoatlus blinked.

"All right, that's probably the best response I'm going to get," said Rory. "Now, you're capable of long-distance flight, so I'm going to send you on a long-distance journey. There's a place far to the East with enough oxygen to keep you alive. Just fly over the ocean—the "big water"—with your right wing towards the rising sun, until you get to a huge green forest with incredible trees. The rainforest. Lots of trees, lots of O2. You'll be safe there. Just…steer clear of humans, OK?"

Another blink.

"Great! Weirdest. Conversation. Ever." Rory turned to Kaie. "Anyway, one last thing. This is where I leave you. Do you know how to find Stonehenge? The ring of stones?"

"South," said Kaie. "Is that where you're going? Now? With…that?" She nodded towards the pterosaur.

"Yes," answered Rory. "This is where I leave you. Thanks for everything." With a deep breath, Rory clambered onto the pterosaur's back.

For once, Kaie was at a loss for words.

"Have a good life, then," he said.

And then, the pterosaur issued a fierce cry, arched its neck, and launched itself into the air.

As quickly as he had entered Kaie's life, the Roman was gone.

Not long after his departure, stories began to spread. They spoke of a kind warrior named George and how he'd unflinchingly subdued the fearsome dragon. A few villagers swore they saw him wheeling overhead atop his winged steed, and a few more thought they glimpsed the beast soaring eastward just as the first rays of dawn burst over the horizon.

But, in one lonely village, Rae awoke after a long night's sleep and ran outside to greet her new Roman friend. She searched every corner of the village before her mother said that the mysterious man had left with the dragon the night before, and he wouldn't come back. And for years afterward, as the girl became a woman, she would gaze southward, towards the Stone Circle, tears rimming her eyes. She'd remember the man, the guardian of a magical box, with all his glorious stories, and how, in a single evening, he'd changed the course of her life forever.

Author's Note:

Thanks for reading! As always, if you liked this story, tell me; if you didn't, tell me why! I welcome your input.

So, aside from putting pterosaurs in the 100's AD, most of the historical and science-y stuff I used is actually accurate—for example, the Quetzalcoatlus actually had a wingspan of ~40 feet, thrived in high-oxygen environments, etc. Whether or not it would eat or carry humans if given the chance is something we'll just have to speculate. But, I figured I might as well engage in that age-old Who tradition of sprinkling science into the fantasy! So, I hope you learned something.

Also, congratulations if you picked up on the whole St.-George-slaying-the-dragon gag!

I discovered that it's very hard to inject humor into a story in which the Doctor isn't actually present, especially in a situation this dark and potentially angst-y. Sure, I used a serious tone at times, but I tried to keep the angst to a minimum to prevent you, the reader, from clawing your eyes out. You're welcome?

Anyway, this isn't the end! More's coming soon, don't worry. Plenty of ideas are brewing in my head…but something tells me that we haven't seen the end of Rae yet.

Until then, Allons-y!