Disclaimer: Steven Moffat owns Doctor Who, and thus can do what he wants with it. Even if it means ripping our hearts out, burying them six feet in the ground, digging them back up, sticking them back in our chests and getting them pumping again, only to rip them out again half a season later.
Back and forth. Back and forth the chair did creak, its rickety rhythm as soothing as a lullaby. Back and forth.
"How would you like to hear a story, my dear?"
The child nodded her assent, mouth preoccupied with sucking her tiny thumb as she sat curled into Mother Kovarian's side. Every night they've done this, and not once did the woman ever return the embrace.
"Well, let's see now..." she began, making a show of leafing through the large book in her lap. "Which one shall I tell you tonight?"
The little girl didn't answer, but there was no need. Mother always chose the same tale regardless.
"Hmm, how about 'The Bringer of Darkness?'"
Not bothering to wait for a reply, the eye-patched woman launched straight into the story.
"There once was a dangerously powerful wizard. No one knew his true name, for it was shrouded in as much mystery as the man himself."
Though she had heard this story so many times she could reiterate it word for word, the child was enraptured all the same by this terrifying yet fascinating wizard.
"He traveled far and wide, taking along with him his closest friends whenever he saw fit. One was a beautiful princess with a head full of flaming hair..."
The girl glanced over at the single picture frame sitting on her shelf. Trapped inside its borders was the prettiest woman she had ever seen, holding a baby. Though the lady was smiling, there was just a hint of sadness hidden deep within her eyes.
"... the other was a brave warrior, a mere peasant who had somehow achieved the impossible in capturing the heart of the princess."
Despite being barely more than a year old, the child had retained vague wisps of memories from long ago, of being held in those strong, protective arms that differed so greatly from the gentle and loving face smiling down on her.
Mother Kovarian began to stroke the young girl's hair lightly, which for some reason gave her more chills than the fairytale. "Together they had a child named Melody Pond."
She was aware that that was the name that all the big people called her, but during storytime Melody was a different person entirely. Clever and fearless, she was everything Mother Kovarian and the others could want for their task, and the little girl could only hope that she would live up to their expectations.
"But the wizard had begun to grow weary, bitter and cruel in his old age," Mother Kovarian continued. "He was falling into the way of darkness, taking anyone and everyone along with him. The good man, the healer, the wise man, had resigned himself to blood-soaked war to get what he wanted, and it was left to one small order of heroic souls to silence the monster once and for all."
Melody instinctively shifted closer into Mother's side, though she wasn't sure whether she feared the man or what was to befall on him.
"The order rescued little Melody from the wizard's destructive clutches, but they had no choice to deprive the princess and the soldier of their beloved daughter. And what did the wizard do to heal his companions' broken hearts?"
The next part she whispered into the child's ear, making her blood turn to ice. "Not a thing."
With one final creak Mother Kovarian lifted herself from the roker, gathered the little one into stiff arms, and began leading her to her cot. "Time went on, and Melody grew. The order taught her many things, raising the poor thing into something worthwhile."
Once she laid the child down, Mother at last concluded her tale. "In the end, it was the once weak, vulnerable little Melody Pond who ended the evil wizard and his reign of darkness, allowing the light to waft in like a melodic song throughout all the universe."
And with that, Mother Kovarian turned on her heels and began walking away, but not before pausing in the doorway to turn out the lights.
"Sleep well, Melody." Then she left the child to find sleep on her own.
Melody trusted her mother, and with the innocence that only a child could manage she believed every word of the bedtime story. Well, except for one thing.
Melody Pond is not weak, she thought to herself. She is a superhero.
If you've read one of my former stories, "As the River Flows," this idea of Melody being told a story of the Doctor as part of the brainwashing process will sound familiar. I just decided to expand on it a little.
Okay, I am going to attempt the impossible. I'm on vacation, so I'm gonna try going for daily updates! There will be five chapters total. Wish me luck.