Title: Diluna
Author: Shen
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Nine, Rose
Summary: The Doctor and Rose land on a quiet planet with a genial people. But something lurks in the shadows of the sleepy streets. Action/adventure, just a hint of Romance
Author's Note: Written for LJ user emraldeyedauter for her very generous donation to Help Brazil. Many thanks to OtherMeWriter for beta reading.
Chapter One: Festival
'Another day, another wonder,' thought Rose as she stepped from the TARDIS. A darkened street greeted her, the awnings and rooftop gutters strewn with yellow paper lanterns. The buildings themselves were simple, one- or two-level affairs made of wood or, occasionally, some quarried stone, while the road itself were mostly gravel. She twirled around giddily, stopping to look back at the Doctor as he leaned on the ship's door and smiled a trifle indulgently.
"Where are we now?"
"No idea," he cheerily answered, standing up properly. "That's the beauty of the randomizer. Looks like we might have found an event or holiday of some kind, though." He gestured at the lanterns before extending his hand to her. She took it almost absentmindedly, sidling up to him to survey the street.
"Seems like an awful quiet holiday." Indeed, other than the sound of the breeze jostling the lanterns against the buildings, things were eerily silent. Rose shivered briefly, chilled in more than one way as the hairs on her neck stood up. The leather of the Doctor's jacket chilled her side as she pressed closer to him, and she looked around warily.
Just then, a merry sound floated across the roofs and through the alleys to reach them – music, woody and with heavy percussion, interspersed with what sounded like a joyful whoop or three. Instantly, the tension broke, and Rose smiled. She'd gotten worried so fast! 'Course, it paid to be careful when traveling in time and space, but the dread she'd started to feel was a bit melodramatic... probably.
The Doctor pointed and said, "Do you see the lights, brighter than the rest, over that section of roofs? I bet we'll find a big party over there."
"Do you think there'll be food?"
"Probably. It might even be edible. There could even be pretty boys there for you, though it's just as likely to be rat people." At that, Rose bumped her hip into his and shot him a joking glare.
"You know, I might like to meet rat people. Would their whiskers tickle me if we danced, do you think?"
"Let's find out!" The Doctor grinned and started pulling her along.
From the shadows of a nearby alley, two sets of calculating eyes watched the retreating figures of the Doctor and Rose.
"Damn. Where did those two come from?" hissed one scout to another. His feelers twitched in an agitated manner, prompting his partner to direct all three of his eyes at him in a weary glare.
"I don't know! We got here at almost the same time, after we heard that bizarre noise. All I saw was those two humans giggling and giving disgusting looks to each other."
"Humans are pretty gross," the first scout agreed. "Too… smooth, and soft."
"Squishy," the second scout twitched his tail in an agreeable fashion. "But this doesn't change anything. Two outsiders won't affect our plans, especially if they're the type who are too busy entangling their creepy hands together and listening to human music to notice two Gorxes standing meters away."
"Right then. Let's report back. But urgh, did you have to mention their hands? So many fingers!"
"Hello there!" Almost as soon as Rose and the Doctor walked from a side-street into the plaza, a tall, shirtless, human man of about thirty zeroed in on them. Rose thought he seemed jovial enough, with his welcoming voice and jaunty wave, but even she couldn't miss the guarded look in his eyes. Which was fair; they pretty much came from nowhere.
"Hello! I'm the Doctor, and this is Rose Tyler." The latter gave her best open, kind smile and knew the Doctor was doing the same. "We're travelers. Found your planet somewhat accidentally, see."
"But it looks like we might've got lucky on the timing?" Rose half-asked. Best to be certain of their welcome. She'd become more wary after the last time she'd stumbled into a closed religious ceremony. It had ended in an arduous escape and a tattoo removal. "It's just, we couldn't help but notice the gorgeous music."
The man squinted at them with eyes shadowed by his dark brown hair, seeming to measure them for a few moments before relaxing into a smile.
"I'm Harol." He shook their hands. "Accidentally, you said? You don't have any injured, do you?"
"No," Rose replied quickly.
"Ah, good, in that case, if you're lost or need help fixing your ship, we can arrange something tomorrow. Not that I can promise anything; we've been settled here for a while, and our technological skills aren't completely up to date. But for tonight, you can join." Harol turned to walk and gestured for them to follow. Without his broad shoulders blocking her view, Rose now saw the whole plaza, the edges of which were lit by the same lanterns that adorned the rest of the town, exiling most of the darkness from the streets. It was a surprisingly huge area considering its central location in the village, ringed with the gravelly street material but mostly made up of blue-green grass. Food stands teemed with customers on the gravel, while a band made up of various drums and flute-like things generated an impromptu dance floor in one corner of the grass. Most of the green space lay empty except for some running children, lazing youths, and piles of things like flags, ropes, and brightly-colored balls.
It looked like literally the entire town was present, mostly clad in loose or short trousers and light tops made of something like cotton. In trying to look more closely at the clothes, it struck Rose how dim it actually was. Why were they having such a festival at night?
"Your timing is indeed lucky. Welcome to Diluna, by the way." As if hearing her musings, Harol carelessly waved his hand toward the sky, where two of the brightest, most beautiful moons Rose had ever seen rode high above the town. One off-white, one a cheery orange.
"Wow," she breathed earnestly, and Harol grinned at her.
"Do you like it?"
The Doctor answered, "I've never seen the like in a world with binary satellites, and that's saying something."
"This is the most spectacular our sky ever looks. This festival's half for that."
"Harol!" called a skinny woman to their left. Her long red hair caught Rose's eye first, but the twinkle in her brown eyes came in at a close second. Third was the bored-looking, red-haired boy in his mid-teens that followed behind her. "Did you actually scrounge up more people to even the teams? You really are a miracle-worker!" The look she gave Harol's naked abs as she spoke made Rose think the woman was more concerned about his mortal skills than any divine ones. She looked at Harol to gauge his reaction and almost laughed aloud at his wide eyes and slightly twitching jaw.
"Charlotte, Bran," greeted Harol somewhat warily, "This is Rose and the Doctor. They're surprise guests. I was about to tell them about the festival."
"Shouldn't I do that?" asked Bran, whose whole face had lit up. He then hid his eagerness behind what Rose was sure he meant to be a rakish grin. "It'd be nice to tell the story to someone who hadn't heard it already, and isn't a baby."
Harol explained, "Their family runs the village archive and library. Bran in particular likes telling stories; the children adore him." Bran glared but couldn't seem to think of a good denial.
"Oh, come on, it's not just kids that like stories! I bet he's the life of the party," cajoled Rose, earning her a thankful, admiring smile. "If nothing else, girls love people who can really spice up the gossip."
"Found a new one already?" the Doctor whispered into her ear, only to be rewarded with a judiciously-applied heel to his shin.
Twenty minutes and many introductions to curious townspeople later ("You'll have to excuse us Dilunans; they townsfolk are curious because we don't see a lot of visitors who aren't trying to steal or sell something."), the five of them had food – some kind of kabob with a dark meat and bright, sweet-smelling vegetables – and were sitting in a circle on a cushy section of grass. After determining that the travelers had never even heard of Diluna, Bran settled into his story.
"Look up," he gently ordered. "Beautiful, aren't they? The moons don't always look like that. Indeed, sometimes they sit on opposite sides of the planet, like feuding siblings exiled to opposite corners of a room." He winked at his sister here, and she shoved him playfully. "But at regular intervals, they cozy up to one another in the night sky. On nights like this, when they shine brightest and for most of the night, we hold this festival." He paused here to take a bite of food, looking up to let the twin satellites reflect in his brown eyes and dance along his pale eyelashes. He grinned like a wild thing, basking in the ethereal glow before looking at the guests and continuing.
"Our people are relatively recent settlers. A generation ago, we peeled away from a society gone dark and oppressive – that's a story for another time. The point is that we arrived here with limited supplies and machinery and thus chose the most spring-like bit of planet for our landing. This planet had been briefly surveyed but left unclaimed, too far out of the way of the major shipping routes that would offer more safety and comfort. No one had lived here yet." His voice dropped. "Thus, we couldn't be sure how long any season would last.
"With that in mind, we built. With anything we could find, any way we could, half of us set about making enough shelter, while the rest scavenged and tried to farm. With the tools we had managed to bring, things seemed to progress alright. We were lean but satisfied with our progress., until one warm day on the cusp of summer."
Schooling his expression into a fierce nervousness, Bran continued at a faster clip, "Just at twilight, an earthquake struck." Rose winced. "In a proper city, say on a technology-rich hive planet, the shaking would have been uncomfortable at best. But to our cobbled-together homes and businesses, it was devastating. People were trapped, injured or dying. Pure chance tripped a member of a scavenging group, spraining his ankle and making everyone late for their evening meal. Because of that, they weren't caught in their homes. Simultaneously, a whole family had been cruelly struck with illness, ensuring they'd be in their unstable bedrooms at the time of collapse. We settlers had almost nothing to help clean up; even our torches were in a collapsed storage hut. What we did have… were the moons and each other." Bran sat up straighter, letting pride color his voice.
"So, on a night just like this, the lucky ones worked by the stunning moonlight of this planet, as well as any fires they could manage, to save their friends and neighbors. It was a monumental effort and one that would have been impossible without teamwork. Even this planet's satellites worked together to help us."
"Thus, on nights like this, we get together to celebrate perseverance, community, and teamwork under the light of the moons." His serious visage broke, and he grinned. "Mostly with dancing and team games." Rose clapped, and the Doctor congratulated the boy on a job well done.
"Thanks, Bran," Charlotte said warmly.
"It's nothing, sis. I know you don't like doing story hour." Her straight nose wrinkled in blatant disgust, pulling a chuckle out of Harol.
"The little ones like to play with her hair," he explained fondly. Rose noticed a distinctly dewy look to his eyes.
"Pull, not play! Not that the little gremlins know the difference," she argued somewhat shrilly, but Rose noticed that her eyes were lamb-soft and aimed only at Harol. She thought that the woman seemed happy for his attention - just as Harol caught himself and looked away. Rose tilted her head at the man.
Just then, Harol declared himself hungry still and offered to get more food to share. Rose decided to accompany him and help carry it.
Immediately upon leaving the group's earshot, Rose asked, "So, Charlotte has a thing for you, eh?" He blinked at her.
"Huh? She has what 'thing' for me? She doesn't owe me anything."
With all the subtlety of a rooster in a library, Rose explained, "She wants to be in your trousers," emphasizing it with a down-pointing finger and accompanying smirk. Harol was too busy gaping to not stumble over the nearest bit of sport detritus, and he hit the soft ground in a tangle of ankles and knees. Rose glanced back, saw the redheaded siblings laughing openly at him, and hastily tried to put her body in the way of Harol's line of sight.
"Sorry!" She helped him to his feet. "It's just, she looks at you like she wants to..." She paused, swallowing euphemisms such as, 'climb you like a cherry tree,' "...wants to date you. But I'm just teasing. You don't like her that way, do you?"
"Don't like her? Of course I like her! She's smart, with the loveliest hair and the most devilish smile, and…" he trailed off wistfully and sighed. "She's too young for me, obviously."
"What?" was Rose's nonplussed reply.
"I'm 32 standard units old. She's 21. It's… it would lack propriety, at least here. I don't know what it's like where you come from." He looked back at their friends, raising an eyebrow. Rose put a hand on his elbow and gently spun him around, leading him once again toward the food.
"Don't look; she'll know we're talking about her."
"I wasn't looking at he-"
"Since you asked, I guess the age difference would raise eyebrows where I come from, too, but who cares? She apparently doesn't, so I'd guess it's not, like, punishable by death or anything." Harol snorted.
"Well, of course not. We're not savages. It's just unseemly."
"Then people will get over it. Trust me, if it's mutual, it'll be much easier if you just go for it. Even if it's just to get her out of your system." Harol glared, and Rose shrank back with an apologetic smile. "Even better if it's not a fling, right? All the more reason for a risk." Mollified, the man lapsed into thoughtful silence. Rose let him, hoping she'd given him something worth thinking about.
The Doctor enjoyed passing the time with Harol, Charlotte, and Bran. Mostly. Rose kept giving the shirtless, ruggedly-cut man odd looks which didn't, to him, seem like flirting. Not that he cared who she flirted with; wasn't any of his business. It was pure chance that he sat between them after returning from a drink run.
The official competitions for the children began after a short while, and Rose sat to watch with her head leaning lightly on his shoulder. She smelled nice. Nice enough to reduce his extensive vocabulary to, 'she smells nice.' An urge to rub his cheek on her head like a cat took his fancy, and it took entirely too long to remember why he shouldn't.
"Doctor?" To his regret, she moved away to look up at him with the air of someone who's had to repeat herself several times. "You tired or something?"
"No," was all he offered. Her brow scrunched, but she didn't comment. "Anyway, I was saying, they want us to compete with them. Do you think you're up for it?"
"Oh, I think I'll be at least as helpful as you, young miss. I was catching balls and whacking things with sticks before you were a glimmer in Jackie's - before you existed," he interrupted himself, heading off somewhat alarming thoughts of Rose's mum and procreation.
Rose glared at him gamely and asserted, "I wouldn't want you to crack a hip is all. But if you're sure you're alright, I think I can keep up, old man."
"Going to pit those bronze-level gymnastics skills against me, are you?" He smiled, softening the words.
"Oh you haven't begun to see those skills in action, Time Lord."
"I bet." Her eyes widened, and he realized how breathily that had come out.
"What?" Oh blast it. 'Go with it, pretend you don't see the innuendo!'
He enunciated, "I said, 'I bet.' I know you've got more potential than I've yet seen. I thought I was the old man; you can't be losing your hearing yet!" At that, she rolled her eyes. Just then, the boy - the Doctor judged him to be about fifteen Earth years old - leaned over to look at them both.
"So you're competing with us in drag? You'll love it; it's brilliant!"
"What?" came twin yelps from Rose and himself. Bran frowned.
"You just were talking about playing the games with us. Don't you know what Drag is? Where you have a team on either end of a rope, and you all drag until the middle goes too far in one direction?" The Doctor burst out laughing, and Rose was only a few seconds behind.
She explained, "We call that 'tug-of-war' back home. We'd love to join in."
"Then come with us now. We'll put you on teams so we can go get ready."
"Get ready?" The Doctor blithely asked.
An hour and change later, the Doctor followed a troupe of young and middle-aged adults back to the town park/plaza somewhat sullenly. Charlotte looked at him and unsubtly stifled a laugh.
"It's not that bad."
"You people took my jacket and my jumper. Right now, I have some kind of rodent-"
Charlotte interjected, "The jenty is our team mascot."
"-rodent," he reiterated, "painted on my chest."
"Think of it this way: Your Rose will have lost about as much clothing as you have." The Doctor's impressive brain ground to a halt.
"...Does their team get body paint, too?" Charlotte snorted at him. However, her features then sobered, and she walked closer to the Time Lord.
"Um, can I ask a personal question?" He nodded, puzzled.
"How did you get her to get over the age difference? Or how did she get you to?" The Doctor had to mentally rewind the conversation to catch her meaning.
"Oh! We're not- she's not my Rose."
"Oh. Sorry for assuming. Oh look, we're here!" she exclaimed, apparently grateful for the change in subject. "Now we just have to wait until our friends get here."
And they waited. And waited. And waited...