Hello again, I haven't been here in forever, I am here with my first Doctor Who fanfiction ever, which I fell in love with throughout the year. This idea had hit me shortly after I had seen the Christmas special, where I felt my heart break for the Doctor. He was in such pain at the loss of the Ponds, and I am so sad to see them go, but I am excited for Clara and I am interested to see the effect that she will have on the Doctor. c:
So here is the story, not my best but I had a blast writing it. Please review, any constructive feedback would be much appreciated.
Disclaimer: I am not the BBC, if I was, I wouldn't be here. I'm just borrowing characters and making them hurt as much as I do.
Enjoy and thank you so much for reading!
The letter took her by surprise; she had honestly not been expecting a response back.
She stared at the paper in her hands; tiny fingers clutched the words scribbled in dark ink as she read over them again, for what felt like the hundredth time.
'Hello,
I am writing you this in response to your request about the open position of governess in the household. I am so sorry about the lateness of this reply, but I honestly feel that a woman of your qualifications, and reputation would be wonderful for this household. I would like to schedule an appointment with you for the position of governess in the Williams household. Please, if you are free on the 14th come on by to the household and meet the children. If you are busy please call and let me know so we can make another appointment. I am deeply looking forward to meeting you Ms. Oswald.
Rory Williams'
Clara stared at the number and address at the bottom of the page and grinned. Looking at the clock on her wall, she spun around and swung open the door to her wardrobe, a grin splitting her face in two. She threw her best dress onto her bed; it was a deep cranberry red with just the right amount of flare and modesty, and grinning she set out the rest of her clothing.
'An offer!' She thought happily as she quickly pulled her long chocolate hair out of its nightly braid, and brushed through it before padding over to the bathroom, and began filling the white porcelain with water.
Clara was a young governess, called one of the best in all of London by half of the city's influential families. The children always adored her. She was kind and brilliantly fun, but was strict when necessary and taught the children the best material. She was polished and poised like silver around the masters of the house, and was always befriending to the servants and never ever overstepped her bounds or slacked off. She was one of the best in London, but she had a hard time keeping a job for long periods of time.
Somehow, despite her brilliance, she was always fired. Loved and adored, yet the masters always found her methods startling and different. Time and time again families had been assigned angry, bitter, horrible governesses that only yelled at the children and left them filled with such animosity. Clara was nothing like that and it made people feel uneasy. She was different, and they didn't like that, unwilling to look over the greatness that she held. They didn't like change.
So she was always let go the same way; with her things packed in the snow, and a hat placed on her head while the masters stood at the front door, and the children huddled at their feet, smothering sniffles with their sleeves.
"Clara, you are a great governess, I just don't feel like you are what is right for the children right now." The mother would always say with a sad, timid smile.
And then Clara would look up, and give them her biggest, most dazzling smile and smooth out the imaginary wrinkle on her hem and look them straight in the eye.
"I completely understand, it has been a pleasure."
Then she would be gone in the back of a carriage with nothing but the crack of a whip to announce her departure.
Clara felt the usual bitter acid of nervousness settle in her gut, and she dipped her head in the still warm water, hoping the warm waters will sooth the anxiousness. She resurfaced and let out a heavy sigh before scrubbing her silken skin and hair with soap, wiping away the dirt and grime of the bar from her skin. Working in the tavern was fine work, but shoving off the drunks was exhausting, and usually ended with her soaked to the bone in alcohol. In order to earn extra money during her bouts of unemployment, Clara would work at the inn she resided in. Angie, the owner and friend, was nice enough to pay her for her assistance. Clara really had nothing to complain about.
Slipping her somewhat damp hair into a tight bun, she darted out of the tub and slipped on her clothes. Noting the time, she finished tidying up her appearance and flew down the stairs, making sure to pick up her coat, bag and cap on her way out.
"I'm going out! I've got a job offer!" With a blown kiss off her ruby red lips she was gone, while Angie stared in shock at her retreating figure with a tiny smile on her face.
Clara hailed down the carriage, and pulled herself in with a huff. She leaned through the partition and smiled at the driver, "The William's Estate please?"
"Of course, dearie." The old gentleman cracked his whip and ushered the horses on with a smile and Clara looked out the window and watched as the London streets flew around her. The world was covered in a soft blanket of fluttering white snow, and the chilled water continued to stream down from the whipped clouds above. The thin streaks of morning peered through the curtain of gray, and cast a blinding brightness off the usually colorless world. London was beautiful in the winter, she had always thought so.
The city was waking, she could feel the roar under her skin, and watched as the children darted outside in their boots, heavy coats and long scarves, while their mothers pretended to be uninterested from the kitchen window. Inside she could sense the fathers shaving in the bathroom, preparing for the hard day's work. It was early, very early, and Clara felt as though she had been awake for hours. An exhaustion mixed with a pure energy coursed through her, filling her heart with lightness and her gut with hot air.
Another carriage trotted by, and she felt the nervousness sink in, she could hear a ticking of the clock in time with her heart. There were moments left before she would meet them, this family, these Williams'.
The carriage came to a halt and Clara looked outside the window to the tall, brilliant manner above her, towering high. It was simpler than some she had seen, but it was beautiful and charming and most importantly it looked like a home. A grand home, for a beautiful family.
Climbing out of the carriage, she handed the driver his money, thanking him, and turned back to the house. She straightened her hat, and took a deep breath before picking up her bags and walking into the doorway where she was met with an intricate cherry wood door. Without a second's hesitation, acting before her nerves took over, she knocked. Three times. Crisp, calm and without delay.
The 10 seconds she waited seemed to be the longest moments of her life. With a hundred different thoughts racing through her mind, Clara felt dizziness sink its cruel talons in her head, when suddenly the door swung open and a young man appeared in the doorway.
He was of average height, with short light brown hair that was as straight as a needle, it appeared soft to the touch and glittered free of snow. Ocean blue eyes looked down upon hers. Light, happy eyes, but held a sadness in the watery depths. Average light complexion, free of blemishes or wrinkles, but a rather elongated nose that was more of a flattering feature than something considered ugly. He wore modest clothes for a man who lived in a grand home like this. Dark brown trousers, a cream colored button shirt, tucked in perfectly, covered up by a matching vest. The young man gave her a look of confusion, before a wide smile broke out over his kind face.
"Clara Oswald I presume?"
"Master Williams." She said full of delight, and she bowed her head politely.
"Come in please, its freezing out there." Rory opened the door slightly, a smile tugging at his thin lips, giving the young woman enough room to enter. She stepped in and swept her eyes over the lovely foyer.
"This is a lovely home, sir." Clara said with a smile, bright and full of genuine delight.
"Thanks. My wife picked it out actually. Took one step in and just knew it was the one for us."
"Impeccable tastes." Clara added, as she took a moment to survey the high, dark ceilings, and the dark cherry wood around her. A light cream paint covered the walls, and despite the somewhat dull color, Clara felt her heart calm and the color brought a warm homelike sensation to pulse in her heart. Light tile covered the cleanly floors, and a grand staircase ascended upward to the second floor of the manor, the wall decorated with assorted paintings and photographs of varying sizes and images.
Clara smiled and whizzed around to face the master of the house. "So, where are the children?"
"They are outside… making a snowman I'm guessing." Rory said fondly.
"Ah," Clara said and shifted on her feet nervously, unsure of what to do, now that she was here in his presence. As though some kind of saving grace, she could hear the clunky footsteps of children clattering in the distance of the house and the somewhat shrill screech of a maid somewhere. Then as though of some magic, she found two young heads of ginger peering at her with glistening water blue eyes. The two children stared at her for a moment, and then when they decided she was unknown to them, spoke up.
"Dad, who is that?" A young boy called out first, gesturing to Clara.
Clara, smiling even brighter than before, leaned forward, so she was nearly eye level with the young boy. He was around 8 years old, and had light ginger curls that sat on his head like a twisted mop, and bright blue eyes of ocean water, a thin set of lips like his father and tiny freckles dotting his cheeks. He wore a thick coat, a great layer of warmth to protect him from the heavy snowfall outside.
"Hello, my name is Clara Oswin Oswald. I am a friend of your father's. What is your name, young man?"
He gave her a tiny, unsure smile. "Arthur Thomas Williams."
"Goodness," Clara beamed at the young boy, "What a name, and what a set of curls." She reached out and ruffled his head, and watched as he laughed and turned red from embarrassment, but inched closer to her when he knew she was safe to be around.
She spun on her heel slightly and reached out to the girl, who was a young age of five, huddled close to her father. She had long wavy locks of orange ginger, darker than her brothers. Her eyes were the same glittering blue, and her ivory skin made the freckles around her nose and full lips more noticeable. She was beautiful for such a young lady, but the dark ginger hair made her seem almost exotic. She wore a long dress of peach and white stockings with boots that came up to her knees. It seems on her way in she had shaken off the heavy coat she had on.
"And what is your name?" Clara asked quietly, adding mystery to the question.
"Karen Amelia Williams," She said quietly, and gave a tiny smile when Clara grinned at her.
"What a lovely name, Karen. Your hair is gorgeous, such a wonderful color of red."
"Your hair is pretty too." She whispered so softly that if Clara hadn't been close enough, she doubted she would have heard the young voice.
"Thank you very much!" Clara said, her eyes twinkling with delight. She rose up and looked up at Master Williams, who was standing very straight, and looking a bit shocked.
"Uhhh," He let his mouth hang open for a moment before pointing to the room across the hall, "Would you like to step into my office?"
Clara nodded and followed the gentleman through the corridors. As she turned a corner she felt a tiny, cold hand slip into hers. She looked down and caught sight of bright coral hair, and a twinkle of sky blue.
"Are you going to be our new Mummy?" Karen asked, her eyes not angry or betrayed, she was calm and questioning.
Clara chuckled good naturedly, a bit taken back by the question.
"Of course not, love, I'm here to see about being your governess. Why would you think I was here to replace your mum?"
"Because Mum died a few years ago." Arthur replied. Clara whipped around to see the younger boy trotting behind her, attempting to look uninterested by the conversation. "Dad misses her a lot."
"I'm sure he does," Clara added quietly, watching as Mr. Williams stood a little straighter, no doubt hearing the conversation, "But I'm here to see if I can be your governess. Have you ever had a governess before?"
Karen shook her head, ginger locks flowing around her like auburn waves. "What is that?"
"A governess?" Clara straightened her coat and smiled down at her, "A governess is like a live in tutor. I am here to help you grow up to be wonderful ladies and gentlemen. I teach academics, good manners, and anything else that I feel you need to know to be well rounded people of society."
"Sounds boring." Arthur answered truthfully, getting a chuckle from Clara.
"I promise I'm not. I'm fond of games and stories. I like to think of myself as a rather fun teacher." Clara smirked.
"You like stories," Karen called out excitedly, "So does Uncle Doctor!"
"Doctor who?" Clara's brow furrows.
Rory cut in and pushed his children gently away from his office door, prying Karen's tiny hand away from Clara. Not with force, or anger, but with a fatherly tenderness that Clara recognized. They groaned slightly, "Sorry Karen, Arthur, but me and Ms. Oswald need to talk privately for a few minutes. Boring adult stuff."
Arthur scoffed and darted off, obviously not interested in 'adult stuff.' Karen stood at the door hesitating for a moment, before Clara shooed her off gently with a wave of her hand. The girl looked at her brother's retreating shape and followed at his heel.
Clara entered the room and heard the door shut softly behind her.
"I just want you to know that you already have the job." Rory said the second the door clicked.
Clara whizzed around, "Really?"
"I have never seen anyone…click with the kids like that. Its…great! So is there anything that I need to do in order to insure that you say yes to this?"
Clara grinned, "Mister Williams I don't feel comfortable with you practically giving me the job like this, could you at least ask me a few questions so that this might resemble an interview?"
"Uh alright then," Rory asked, settling down in his office chair, gesturing awkwardly with his hand to the other seat for Clara to sit, "How long have you been a governess?"
"Pretty much since birth, my mother was a governess, so I was raised around the atmosphere. Taught all the things a governess should know since I was young."
"Okay, what sort of things do you do differently than other candidates that make you a better choice?" Rory asked casually.
"I try and make the children respect but also like me, I feel it is easier to learn something from someone that you are fond of," Clara responded calmly, putting on her best posture and collected speech, "And I also try and make the lessons interesting, by adding in stories and games to the academics. People remember stories and interactions considerably better than they would just dull facts."
And so the interviewing process went on for about another half hour, and the questions grew considerably less business related rather than the two adults getting to know each other as individuals. They talked for what felt like hours, perhaps it had been. It ended with the two of them laughing, clutching their stomachs, happy tears leaking from the corner of their eyes. Mr. Williams looked so kind and gentle when he laughed, but there was a cautious hesitation when he did so, as though he hadn't in a long time, or felt guilty when he did. Clara guessed it was because of the death of Mrs. Williams.
"You're kidding me, he honestly asked you that?" Rory asked, a smile still spread out on his face.
"Yes! It was the strangest experience of my life." Clara said with a giggle. Their laughter died down and a tiny silence surrounded them.
"Please, I'm begging you," Rory added suddenly, "accept the offer. I need a governess. The kids are growing up, growing up fast and without Amy here… I don't think that I am enough you know? These kids need some femininity in their lives. I mean besides the maids… You are just what this household needs. I believe that now. "
"Mr. Williams I am flattered to hear you say this, and I am happy to say that I do accept. You and your children seem like a dream, it would be a pleasure to work in your household." Clara said politely, her heart leaping out of her chest from happiness.
"Oh really! Oh thank God, you said yes!" Rory exclaimed with glee, a grin ripping apart his pleading furrow, "Thank you so much Ms. Oswald." And with that he walked over and took her small hands in his and clutched them with such fierceness Clara was shocked. He usually seemed so timid, and yet there was such a passion in this young man.
"It is an honor Master Williams." Clara said, removing her hand politely.
"Oh no," Rory shook his head, "I don't like that, no one calls me that around here. Call me Rory."
"Isn't that a bit unprofessional?" Clara asked, curiosity getting the best of her.
"We were never one for formalities." Mr. Williams said, and his smile turned sad, a light igniting in the back of his light eyes, one of love, and sadness and Clara wanted to look away. She gave a small smile instead. "But you are welcome to call me whatever you like."
"Well," He said, "I'll have Jenny take you to your room, then. Don't worry about your things tonight Clara. We will get them from your residence later tomorrow. Just rest for the night, although if I may request your presence at dinner tonight?"
"It would be an honor, Master Williams."
"Excellent. See you there then."
~.~.~.~
When Clara was showed her new room, she felt her mouth drop to the floor. It was spacious and elegant, everything she could have ever wished for. There was a generously sized bed pushed into the corner, and a desk right by the window, which was covered by deep forest green curtains that would easily block the summer sun if needed. There was a vanity and a dresser all of fine wood, smelling fresh and polished. Clara blushed at the kindness Mr. Williams showed her, she was nearly a servant, a lowly person of status with little income and money to show and yet he gave her a place to stay in such a fine house, filled with the love of a home. She was stationed on the bottom floor, with the other servants, but placed near the stairs for easy access to the children if need be.
Walking over to the bed, she picked up the dark green pillow and squeezed the soft plush fabric. She had seen finer homes, filled with fancy jewels and twinkling objects in every room, but there was nothing about those homes that made her feel the level of happiness she felt here. She wasn't a part of this home, she had been here for merely a few hours and yet she was treated so kindly and her heart swelled with light. She felt needed, and adored and loved…
"Ms. Clara?"
Clara turned around to see the kind face of the maid who had led her to her room, Jenny. She was a small girl, petite, rather plain looking, with a sweet heart shaped face and long brown locks pulled up into a bun. She was kind and had a gorgeous, bright smile on her face, burning in her light brown eyes.
"Yes, Ms. Jenny?"
"Dinner will be served in an hour. Do you need anything?" Jenny asked, her soft voice gently slicing through the silence.
"No thank you, Jenny. I will see you in an hour." Clara responded with a gentle smile.
Jenny nodded and turned to leave, the soft clack of her shoes hitting the floor.
Clara felt her smile fade, and she lay down on the soft bed, overcome with an unknown exhaustion. Not even bothering with the covers, she dozed off before she had even taken her second breath.
~.~.~.~
Clara opened the door to her room, hearing the clatter of the plates and gentle laughter ringing in the air, fixing her hair she walked out of the room and followed the hallway to the main foyer, where she stared at the sight in front of her. Master Williams, Karen, and Arthur all huddled together at the table. There was another woman sitting next to Jenny, somewhat older than the young woman, with dark, dark raven hair, smooth ivory skin and bright, blue-green eyes that were stunning. And there was a short, rather frumpy looking man with whitening hair and a toothy grin that was also at the table, telling a tale that had the whole table giggling like madmen.
Servants sitting at the dinner table! With the masters! It was unheard of, it was wrong… but still despite the awkward feeling it left in her gut Clara felt relieved. Obviously Master Williams was lenient on the social politics involved with something as simple as a household, and Clara smiled at that.
Taking a step closer to the kitchen, Clara caught a ghostly shadow out of the corner of her eye on the staircase. It was dark, covered in shadow and she whizzed around, but before she could investigate and make sense of the sight, it was gone. As quickly as it had come. Clara gave a defeated sigh and turned back toward the kitchen.
"Clara!" Karen called out, grabbing her attention and pulling her back to reality.
"Lovely Karen, nice to see you this evening,"
"Nice t' shmee you too!" Karen giggled through some food. Clara smiled and fought the urge to correct the behavior, but quelled the governess attitude in her, settling for a soft chuckle.
"Ah take a seat anywhere, Clara." Rory said through his napkin, and Clara turned to the empty seat next to Arthur, where a heaping plate of steaming food sat. She pointed to it cautiously.
"Is someone sitting there?"
"Oh," Jenny popped up, rushing over and grabbing the food, turning to Rory, "Do you want me to take that up to Master Smith, sir?"
Rory looked skeptical for a moment, before returning to his meal, "Yes please Jenny, it doesn't look like he'll be joining us tonight."
"I'm sorry, but who?" Clara asked as she watched Jenny depart up the stairs.
"Uncle Doctor!" Karen piped up, and Clara turned to face the young girl, "He lives with us and Daddy. He's really, really shy and stays in his room a lot of the time."
"Dad says he's not well." Arthur added.
Clara felt her mouth open slightly, but Rory smiled at her and directed his attention to the older woman and gentleman at the table. "Clara this is Madame Vastra, another maid here, and this is the wonderful Sir Strax, cook, gardener and carriage driver extraordinaire."
Clara looked to them and smiled, "Hello, I'm Clara, the new governess."
The small man looked at her and smiled widely, "Nice to meet you Madam."
Vastra eyed her cautiously for a moment with her sharp glare, before grinning. "It's nice to see a new face."
Clara smiled, "Vastra. That is a lovely name. Is it foreign if I may ask?"
"I'm Scottish," Madame Vastra said as she took a sip of her wine, "But my name itself is Swedish. Long and confusing tale for another day perhaps."
"Oh," Clara sighed softly.
"Is your room to your liking Clara?" Rory asked suddenly.
Clara faced him, wiping at her mouth, "Oh Mr. Williams it is wonderful. All I could have asked for."
"Good. I like to keep the people of this house happy, regardless of what the changing times tell me." Rory said, a determined glint burning in his eyes.
Clara didn't know what to say, so she smiled brightly and turned to her hot meal, and her heart aching with happiness. And then like that the meal continued on for what seemed like hours, small talk, stories were swapped, and in that moment they were a happy little family. Strax, Jenny and Vastra seemed like lovely people, who were fond enough of Clara. Strax was charming with his kooky kind of energy and humor, while Jenny was sweet and gentle, but a bit fiery, and Vastra was confident and powerful, but kind.
"Well Goodnight, Clara." Jenny called out, patting the young girls hand in an affectionate gesture that was almost motherly, Vastra gave her a small silent smile and followed after Jenny to their room. Right… they were together…
"Goodnight Strax," Rory called out, pulling up a drowsy Karen up from her seat, settling her in his arms, carrying her off bridal style, while Arthur stood behind him, desperately fighting sleep. It was no doubt past their bedtimes. "Goodnight Clara."
"Goodnight Master Williams, Arthur! And goodnight Strax, sir!" Clara called.
"Goodnight Clara," Strax said kindly and turned on his heel to the kitchens, to clean up.
Clara realized she was alone.
Clara turned to go to her room, but an adventurous curiosity burned in her veins. She wanted to go exploring the manor; she hadn't seen all of the house yet which means if she went wandering no doubt she would get lost. She knew that wouldn't be fun, and more than likely horrifyingly embarrassing. Heading back to her room, she saw something glitter in the staircase, turning around she caught sight of the golden picture frames hanging majestically on the wall. Seeing no harm in observing something close to her room, Clara ascended the staircase, making sure to keep her footsteps soft. The stairs didn't creak, and she breathed out a sigh of relief.
Looking at the first picture it was one of a young woman, long locks falling in her face, as she laughed at something behind the camera. She was sitting on what appeared to be a grassy hill, but the black and white photograph offered no collection of the beauty that sight must have held. She was smiling madly, and there was a set of round reading glasses perched on her nose and a book in hand. She was beautiful…
She raised another step, "She's beautiful isn't she?"
Clara jumped, and turned to face Jenny.
"Oh my god!" Clara wheezed out quietly, Jenny smiled but looked apologetic.
"Sorry Clara, I had to give some night clothes to you, and you weren't in your room. I didn't mean to scare you."
"It's okay Jenny," Clara said with amusement but turned back to the photo, "Who is she?"
"It's hard to tell here, but that is Karen and Arthur's mother." Jenny said quietly.
"That is Mrs. Amy Williams?" Clara asked with awe, now that she returned to the photo, she could see the pale skin and fiery red hair leaking through into the photo. "She's gorgeous."
"Was. She died a few years ago, and she was so wonderful. We all miss her dearly."
Clara turned back to the photo for a moment, and stared long and hard at it, going up and finding one of the William's wedding day. She was dressed in a lacey gown and her hair was pulled up into a loose bun, and she looked stunning and happy and alive. And there was Master Williams, grinning like a fool and looking so young and—
"What happened to her?" Clara asked, turning around to ask Jenny but spoke to silence. There was no one there, and Clara felt defeated and alone, and she took a step off of the stairs back to her bedroom—
"She died."
Clara stood frozen for a moment; that was a new voice, more hoarse and dry, as if unused and very male. She turned slowly back to the stairs where a dark figure stood, covered in shadow. He wasn't shaped like Rory was; he was a bit taller, and thinner in the shoulders and waist. The dark silhouette of his hair stood up on end and fell into the mysterious strangers eyes. He stood there for a moment, but when Clara didn't speak he came out into the light.
He was wearing normal dark brown trousers and a light cream night shirt, tucked in and wrinkled beyond belief; he stood barefoot on the cold wood. His face was rather rectangular shaped, with a somewhat large chin and dark messy hair that had overgrown and fell limp into his eyes. His thin lips were turned down into a tight frown and his deep, mossy green eyes looked at her from a distance. They were beautiful and so sad and cold and seemed so old. But he wasn't old. Not much older than herself, and more than likely around Master's age. He was handsome, but the harsh set of his jaw made Clara shrink away, the anger and hurt in his eyes left her with the feeling of needing to run. She held her ground though. Who was this man?
"Taken away by the angels in the night." The mystery man said with hollowness in his voice.
"What was she like?" Clara asked without thinking, hoping this stranger would keep answering her questions.
"She was wonderful. Our mad, impossible Amelia Pond…" And then he trailed off fondly, and Clara felt awkward standing there, and let him have his moment for a second, before cutting in.
"I'm Clara. The new governess." She extended out her hand; he stared at it for a moment, as though it was foreign to him.
"I'm the Doctor. Best friend of Rory." He said quietly, his voice less harsh than before.
"Oh you must be 'Uncle Doctor' as Karen calls you. Nice to meet you Master Smith." Clara says, withdrawing her hand and placing it behind her back.
His face scrunched up at the title, and a false smile tugged at his mouth, obvious in his distaste, Clara felt worry burry in her gut. 'What have I said wrong?'
"Yes," He responded, "Nice to meet you as well Ms. Oswald, Jenny told me good things about you. Welcome to the house. Now, goodnight." And then like that he retreated back upstairs, into the first room on the right, the door closing with considerable noise. He had left as mysteriously as he had come, with only the heat of his breath and the sound of his voice lingering in the dry winter air.
Deeply puzzled, Clara descended down the stairs, and settled back into her room, finding the sleeping gown on her bed. Changing into it, she braided her hair quickly and crawled into the bed, sleep tugging at her brain. As drowsiness lulled her and she thought back to what Arthur had said,
"He's not well."