Title: Faery Tales
Rating: K+
Summary: Spoilers for "A Good Man Goes to War." Just a little River + Doctor story.
Disclaimer: I do not hold any ownership over Doctor Who. Obviously.
Author's Note: Not beta'd, but feel free to point out any mistakes. This is only my second Doctor Who story. It's really short. Let me know how I did.
o0O0o
She collects stories of Her. Her mother, that is. Stories of her were scattered like stardust through time and space.
A Romantic Trip she had taken with her father to Venice before their marriage.
A trip (for fun) to Space Florida.
Meeting Liz X. Winston Churchill. Vincent Van Gogh.
They were faery tales. Even her name had a fictional ring to it, Amelia Pond, its syllables exaggerated, rolling off the Doctor's tongue. He was part myth himself.
Of course, she hadn't known he was the Doctor at first. River was an archeology student, leaving for her first dig when something had gone wrong with the ship. A series of explosions rocked the vessel, shook the dock. A mysterious man grabbed her wrist and pulled her to (relative) safety. The rest of her first adventure passed in a blur.
From what she could pull together later, the ancient civilization she was to research, the Gonahexugals had died out hundreds of years ago. The new society of the planet in question, the Swarswatas, had laid claim to the lost culture and history. They had sabotaged River's mission. She was furious! No one could own history or culture. Not in these "civilized" times. It was barbaric, and not to mention dangerous. Owning a history meant you could change it, to suit your own needs. It had happened before.
After it was over, the mysterious man said, "Ice cream?"
"What's your name?" she asked.
"The Doctor. What's yours?"
"River Song."
"River Song/Melody Pond!" he exclaimed. His interest in her suddenly intensified.
"What?" She was taken aback by his sharp gaze.
"Nothing, it's just... a nursery rhyme. Where I come from." He shook his head and grinned. But somehow, the smile did not reach his eyes.
"No, Bad Wolf is a nursery rhyme."
"It is?"
"Yeah, you know, 'Who's afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?'"
"I amafraid of her. What other nursery rhymes do you know?" he asked.
The one about my name, she thought. "Ice cream?"
"Yes."
They talked about nursery rhymes, and faery tales. Even if her own life hadn't mirrored one, River thought she would like them anyway. She liked that despite the fact that the impossible often happened, and magic was real in those worlds, they often held a grain of truth, applicable even in a time where Earth no longer existed, at least not in a form that any Morgana le Fay would recognize. River talked about Sita, the most beautiful woman in the world, stolen from her husband and prompted a great war.
"Isn't that Helen of Sparta?" the Doctor asked, while licking the cone where the ice cream had dripped.
"Maybe. Does your Helen get swallowed up by the Earth at the end?"
"Ah. No."
Poor Sita. Earth faery tales was something River was an expert in. Especially the ones with strong women at the core of the story; Kali, the Virgin Mary, Vasilisa, Mulan, Diana... all from different Earth cultures. That one little planet was so diverse. She's heard others, of course, of baby princesses taken from their cradles, whisked away into the night by evil witches. River hated them.
The Doctor had known her real name. He seemed to know everything - everything about her. And he said he knew her mother. He didn't talk about them much, her parents, just tiny details, really. Snippets of their life. But it was something, and over the course of her adventures with her Doctor, she began to piece the story together.
She had lost something she thought she wanted - a place at her academy.
But because this was a faery tale, she gained something of far greater value.
Her name.
Names were important. Especially in faery tales.
Just ask Amelia Pond.