A/N: Hey guys! This is my first Doctor Who fanfiction. I am a big fan of the show for many years and I've always wanted to write this little fic. And I only got the courage to do it now. This fic is actually an experimental piece. I've seen stories about Original Characters being humans, humans-turned-Time lords, actual Time Lords, but I never seen a fic about an OC that's from a different species involved in a the Whoniverse. The Whoniverse is vast and full of different possibilities in its uncharted waters. And that's what I'm doing with this fic.
Hopefully, you, dear readers, would like what I came up with and enjoy reading it.
English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance if there are grammatical errors or missing words (I tend to do that).
And last and not the least...
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who.
Chapter One
Once Upon A Time
Stars wheeled overhead, swirling around the dark void around her. A sweet sense of peace overcame, making her feel safe and sound. It was beautiful beyond compare. She stood in the edge of the night, watching as the bright life of forever filled the air. Yet there was something wrong—something she could not explain.
And then it came.
She felt it in the water. She felt it in the earth. She smelt it in the air. Much that once was is lost. And none now live for those who remember it. Her grandmother showed it to her once, the darkness—silent and void, but even then it was just a memory—a dream that could never be. However, dreams that are thought to be impossible can be turned into reality. It lingered in the shadows like a preying beast, watching and waiting. Darkness crept back into the forest. Rumour grew of a shadow of a race long since forgotten; whispers of a nameless fear. Too long had the shadows plagued her, too long had it haunted her steps. But for the first time since it watched, it finally revealed itself.
Something must have changed.
She ran through the forest as fast as her feet could take her. Her senses tingled in an electrified response. An unnerving silence was in the air. No cricket or owl to be heard. The pathway led her running through twists and turns. Her barefoot steps moved on the earthy floor of the forest, not making a single sound. Soon she was greeted by a familiar sight.
It was home.
She walked unto the cobblestone pathway as it led to the front porch. Flowers surrounded her wake with the colours of blue and lavender, twisted into an arch. The trees were trimmed into a pleasant sight. The moonlight had shone on her house, making it looked more ghostly than it should. It might have looked like an abandoned house with its beautiful ruined state. Moss and vines had clung to the walls, making it look ancient. It was too large for a residence of one. The walls were glazed in white with tall pillars, framing its structure. The lights were out, filled with unbidden darkness. Although, it wouldn't be as such if there was anyone to keep the fire alive.
Even in a troubling hour such as this, she contemplated how isolated she had become. She was lonely then and lonelier now. No comfort or presence was to grace her.
The woman opened the door into the dark entrance of her home. From the dim light of the moon, the stairs had made an illusion of being bigger than it was. The room was well-furnished with the sitting room at the left, and a dark hallway at her right. The stairs winded up above with its burgundy carpet, leading you to a series of hallways and doors to which there was no knowing where you'd end up. It was only then that it occurred to her how she let herself go so far. The walls were already chipped and decorated green and brown with vines. It tainted the light beige colour of the walls. It was morbid how beautiful it seemed to her; it reflected how she was these days.
There was a cold feeling inside the house; some windows were forced open by the strong wind that had begun to stir some time ago. It scattered papers around the area and the moonlight had given it an eerie ambient. There was a rustle of leaves behind her. Autumn leaves drifted past.
She felt it.
The darkness was closer now. Someone was here, watching, but from where?
She peered beyond the dark stretch of her house. Taking a step forward, she left the door open, letting the light come in. The moonlight was behind her as the only source of light. She moved unto the centre, letting her steely auburn eyes search the places were ordinary eyes cannot. She stood still, feeling the hairs of the back of her neck stand. And all so suddenly, the door slammed shut behind her, leaving her in the darkness.
A faint light emerged and lit the room. The light came from no lamp or torch, but the woman herself. She glowed faintly with a ghostly aura as she remained still, and her eyes continue to scan her surroundings for any sign of life.
"Impressive."
The woman turned around slowly to meet the source of the new voice. It was masculine and deep, but was distorted and robotic. She did not see the intruder quite clearly. It was only his silhouette. Despite his foreboding aura, the woman was adamant not to let this intruder see weakness inside her. He radiated power that she had been able to feel for a long time. She did not heed any mind to his words, but had observed him. His posture was steady and straight, towering over her. There was a bit of discomfort in his movements like something was resisting in his mind. Confusion was there, seeping out from his façade of indifference.
"So it is true." He said. "I had never seen people like you."
The man stepped towards her, but she stood her ground. The man oozed darkness and deadly intentions yet he was not there to kill her that much she can decipher.
"There is no one like me..." she said calmly as she walked to her coat rack.
She walked as if he was a normal guest not a possible psychopathic murderer. The woman did not find it in herself to run away from a dangerous opponent. She had worse, felt worse, and done worse than the man who dared trespass. The woman took her cowl off, hanging it on the rack, her ebony black hair spilling out into the open.
"You're right. There is no one like you…anymore."
The woman stopped in movements, frozen, as he said those words. It was a low blow yet it had stung her so. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before she continued to fiddle with her coats, acting to be unfazed by the comment. It never helped being angry in a situation like this; it would have been an advantage on his side, more vulnerable for him to exploit her.
"I heard stories, legends, about your people, but I never thought it to be true." He said, walking towards her. "I can feel it; your loneliness and your grief."
She turned around and snapped, "Leave me alone, snake!"
"Oh, but you are alone!" he said mockingly. "Who knows what you have spoken to the darkness? In bitter watches of the night, when all your life seems to shrink, and the void swallows you whole."
The woman looked away from him, feeling the dread fill up inside her. Closing her eyes, she tried not to think, but there were images that came forth in her mind. She staggered back, her light flickering as she began to lose control.
The shadowed man watched her movements as his words sway her emotions. The constant grief that she carries had been buried all her life, hidden in her unbinding solitude in the forests of the peaceful realm of Earth. Growing, festering, and caged in the core of her emotions.
The woman tried to block out his voice along with the images to no avail.
"After all these years, it had never left."
She sat in a silver field with golden flowers. She made flower crowns as children danced before her, running through the glen. A smile graced her features and a man in green sat beside her, holding her close and pressing his lips on her temple.
"All that grief spent in the solitude of your aching heart."
The scene shifted and she was in a warzone in her home world. Everything was on fire. A bright red and ashen black where silver and gold used to be. And bodies strewn around her.
"Mama!" she turned to see her daughter run towards her. Sudden relief came, but it faded when a familiar voice came forth.
"NO!" She screamed and a beam of light shot out. And her daughter fell on the floor dead.
"Do you ever get tired? Waking up every morning and feeling the emptiness of your heart."
She screamed, running towards her child. Before she could go further, someone grabbed her waist, dragging her back.
"Yvaine, let go!" She struggled against his grip, grief-stricken by her child's death. The next thing she knew she was in a transpod, her husband face looming outside. Tears streamed down his face as she screamed to let her go. They rushed through corridors, the once silver walls coated with blue blood. Without her knowing, her husband pushed her into a pod and locked it.
"Loke, please! Don't do this."
"I'm sorry, my love." He said, working on the controls.
"Come with me!" She pleaded.
"It can only transport one person. And I'll be damned if I lose the woman I love." He said; his voice full of determination.
Loke took one last look at his wife. Her black hair was a mess and her nose was red from all her crying. Even now, he found her so beautiful. He lifted a hand, pressing it on the glass. Yvaine returned the gesture. They both knew that this would be the last time they were together. It was the last time they would see each other again. Loke was hesitant to press the button, not willing to let her go. However, if he didn't, she'd die. And he could not have that.
"Goodbye, my love."
He pressed the button and she was gone in a flash of light.
"There is no comfort for you. No comfort to ease the pain of what you had lost."
The light began to fade and still she stood, tears running down her face. They were gone. Astra, her daughter, was dead. Loke left himself behind in Othorion. He sacrificed himself for her safety. There was emptiness in her heart. It was then she knew there was no one else left of her kind.
She was alone.
"You lingered on in darkness and in doubt. As nightfall in winter that comes without a star. Here is where you dwell, bound to your grief, under the fading trees, until the entire universe is changed and the long years of your life are utterly spent. There is nothing for you here, only death. And the memory of your people shall be diminished and lost."
The images faded. She gasped. A tear escaped her eyes and cascaded down her cheek. The weariness began to take hold of her. How long had she tried to escape the truth? There was no bringing them back, she was alone and that was what fate decided.
"I can take it away. The pain you feel. I can replace it with something even better. Join me." He said softly, his gaze on to hers.
That was when she looked up at him again with tearful eyes.
"Join me. Rebuild the glory of your planet and it shall be remembered for centuries." He said, commending her in a tone of gentleness.
She looked at him almost considering of the offer. She could not deny in her heart that she had long desired this, but through her they will bring destruction and chaos in the galaxy. There was one thing she knew about men like him, one thing that is true. They lie.
"Your words are poison!"
A bright light filled the air.
She gasped awake. Breathing in deeply, she looked around to see she was in the tube. She must have fallen asleep. Groaning, she moved her muscles, feeling her strained limbs pop. The train stopped and the people were filing out the train. After a moment, Yves followed.
It had been many years since she arrived on Earth. She had teleported in London on the year 1895. Yves lived through WWI, where she became a civilian nurse. She fought in WWII, leading a troop through Nazi lines. Never did she think that she'd get caught up in human affairs. And after many years since then, life as a human seemed much more mundane than usual, but not mundane enough to leave her bored.
Along the street, Yvaine—or rather Yves as she now called herself—walked idly by and up the stairs to her flat. It was a normal day in London…well, not so much normal. It was going to be her (supposed) birthday tomorrow. And so, as always, she wouldn't celebrate it. She never did. The last time she did was in 1945 at the end of the war. Even so, she didn't have any real family left to spend it with. How could she? They were all dead. She couldn't even visit their graves. There was always the option of friends, but she was never really social. Her reserved nature was for all but for those she placed her trust in. Even then, she wouldn't celebrate it. It was just too painful to remember. Even if centuries more had gone by, the wound would still be too fresh.
For so long, she carried a burden in her heart that weighed her down, but entering this world, even after so much death and wars she saw, had been a remedy in progress.
Yves sighed, unlocking the door to her flat. The place was a fair deal. It was quite cramped compared to the vast space of her home back in her world or in Delphi. It didn't have the wide open windows that showed the vast forest nor did it have the view of the vast coast. Yet she did not complain, only sought to make it as comfortable as possible. Her home was mostly the color of white, green, brown, and blue. Despite appearances on the outside, there were many of her human friends that remarked about the state of her home. It was always clean and spotless. It was simple and elegant with a dash of antique and natural spirit.
Acting like a human has its upsides and downsides, but it was interesting to live by. However, life goes on in a dismal array where Yves tried to live low key. It's the reason why she moved into an flat in Powell Estate when she could easily buy a high-class flat in London. Of course, while she lived in such middle-class accommodations, she sought to make her flat suitable to her taste. And those were easily acquired by the features she brought from her home in Greece.
Her mind wandered to her dream. It was one that she had no intention of repeating. She couldn't help but feel dread after remembering it. It was reason why she left Greece in the first place. Someone had managed to track her down and used her grief and loneliness to manipulate her into joining his forces. Until now, she didn't know who he was, but he was like every other bad man she met. One obsessed with absolute power to bend the universe to his will. Hopefully, Yves would not encounter him any time soon—or ever.
She threw her bag on the blue velvet sofa and headed straight for the kitchen. Putting on the kettle, she waited for the water to boil just so she can have a cup of tea. She never would have thought her life would end up like this—drinking tea, living that total human lifestyle. No more daily rituals. No more hunting. No more climbing trees or large expanse of stairs. Sometimes the elemental living her people used to have grated on her nerves. Yes, they did have advanced technology, but it didn't remove their most ancient traditions being integrated on their lives. She was glad that there were elevators on Earth, making it easier to climb up unlike her home which had great spiral staircases twisted around the trunk of their large trees as high as skyscrapers. However, she couldn't help but feel bad about disagreeing with some things in their culture especially now that's left to her. She knew that she should have done something to restore and preserve it as the last of her kind, but she didn't want to. As selfish as it was, she didn't want to live her life trying to rebuild something that could never be recovered. She could still practice and teach her culture, but she can never rebuild it to its former glory.
And since landing on Earth, it began a whole new life for her. Earth was home. And home it will remain to be.
There was a knock on the door and Rose's voice resounded from beyond the door.
"Yves, are you there?"
"Yeah, I'll be there in a minute." She said loudly, hoping it was loud enough to be heard.
However, the knocking didn't stop and Yves could only roll her eyes as she took the kettle off. She, then, took off to the front door, opening it to see an angry Rose Tyler right in front of her doorstep. Rose stomped inside, brushing past Yves, who stepped aside to let her in.
"Nice to see you too." Yves said sarcastically. "What got your knickers in a twist?"
Quite recently, she had learned the basic slang terms and up-to-date idioms humans would use in the 21st Century. And Yves was quite proud of herself in using it correctly. Thankfully, if she got something wrong she could always blame it on being a foreigner (which wasn't really far from the truth).
"It's Danny." Rose growled. "That wanker really couldn't shut up his trap!"
Yves sighed. "Rose, I told you before. Just ignore what he says. Anything he says won't change who you are."
"He wasn't talking about me." Rose stressed.
"Who was it this time?" Yves sat down besides Rose.
"You."
Yves raised a brow. "What did he have to say?"
Rose sighed in frustration and said, "He was talking to a bunch of blokes of how you were some foreign prostitute that was running away from the law."
Yves laughed, cutting Rose off. "Oh, God! I'm sorry." She said in between laughs.
Rose couldn't help but smile at her neighbor, yet it didn't relinquish her incredulous confusion. "How are you not pissed?"
"I'm sorry!" Yves said, regaining her composure. "It's just so hilarious finding what people assume to think in their funny little brains. So much imagination! Remember when he accused me of scuba-diving naked with sharks back in Greece."
Rose laughed at the memory of that day.
"Oh yeah," she said, "you punched him right off his rocker especially when he said you had a Greek mythology fetish."
"Ooh! Maybe I do." Yves said suggestively, wiggling her brows. "I always loved a toga."
Rose laughed along with Yves. They always had a light atmospheric friendship that grown within the year they had known each other. Their friendship had been totally accidental, springing from Rose's mother's gossiping and grocery shopping. At first, Rose disliked Yves and had grown a bit insecure. It was hard not to. Yves had a beauty that left the boys gawking. She was tall and exotic—something unattainable. Fortunately, Rose got past that and concentrated on getting to know the real her.
"And I got so mad at him, but I couldn't do anything because the police were there. I could have gotten arrested or evicted if I ever made a move." Rose said more lighter than before.
Yves contemplated. "Tell you what. When we find Danny, we should give him a nice right hook on the face." Yves said, making Rose smile and laugh. "He's been bullying us for a year with no reason whatsoever other than turning him down. I believe he deserves a nice big bruise on his face. We punched him once, we can punch him again. Except this time, we make sure it leaves a mark for him to remember."
Rose laughed. "Oh, Yves. You always know how to cheer me right up."
Yves laughed with her, releasing her hands to grab her cup. She smiled; a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"It's what we, neighbors, do." Yves said, giving her a bright smile.
"You know...it's been a year…" Rose began. "We're more like friends than actual neighbors."
"Yeah, I guess so." She said, staring out into the blue, thinking. "He got it wrong actually."
"Who?" Rose asked, looking at her curiously.
"Danny." Yves said, "He said I slept with thirteen men when, in truth, I only had slept with two men."
"Really?" Rose asked, surprised.
Yves looked at her in confusion. "Why so surprised?"
"I've never thought you'd be that kind of girl." Rose said truthfully.
When Rose thought about it, she had never seen Yves interested in any person in that way. She was polite and amicable, but never flirty or seductive. Yves may have the looks of a temptress, but her actions and behavior was far more innocent and conservative. When Rose first met her, she took her as this typical flirty and girly girl from next door. However, in time, she saw that Yves was intelligent and reserved, simple and kind, and understanding and patient. So, as she thought this over, it made sense.
Yves stayed quiet for a moment. "Well, I am." She said distractedly.
Rose looked at her worriedly. "Yves, are you alright?"
"Yeah. Just thinking of someone." She said, sending her friend a sheepish smile.
Rose grinned with mischief in her eyes. "Well, come on. Tell me about them."
"Are you sure?" Yves said, turning red in embarrassment while smiling like a fool.
"It's only two." Rose nudged her. "But you have to tell me which one was the best."
"Hard decision." Yves said; contemplative.
"Why?"
"Because both of them were great."
They broke out in laughs. And soon enough, Yves brought out a bottle of champagne and she began her stories about her two lovers. They laughed and drank until Rose went off to get some tea to sober them up. Rose returned with two mugs of tea. Yves had begun to tell her the story of her first love since the death of her husband. Yes, she was finally opened up enough to tell Rose that she was married. And God, the poor girl almost spat out her tea at the revelation.
"But you couldn't be older than twenty-three!" she said in shock.
Yves chuckled before turning serious. "Rose, I'm twenty-five. Just two years older than what you thought my age was." She sighed. "God! I was so young." Yves reminisced.
Rose looked at her curiously. "How old were you?" she asked.
"Oh! About eighteen, I think." Yves said nonchalantly, waving a hand in dismissal.
"That's a year younger than I am!" Rose exclaimed.
"Love has no bounds." Yves sang.
"Let me guess," Rose said, "childhood best friends fell in love and got married when they got the chance."
"Not quite there, but you're close." Yves said thoughtfully. "He was my teacher."
"Oh my god!" Rose was absolutely shocked. "You married your teacher!"
"The age gap wasn't big." Yves defended herself. "He was only three years older than me at the time."—Actually, it's more like three hundred years, but Rose didn't need to know that—"And! He was my private music instructor."
"Okay." Rose said, calming down, but she smirked, "So, you got a thing for older men?"
"It's a curse I have to live with." Yves said jokingly, earning a laugh from Rose.
Rose asked about Loke and how they met. And Yves delighted on telling her the humanized versions of her stories of her life in Othorion with him. She talked about their wedding and how it went. Speaking about the wedding, she even told Rose about the handsome madman that whisked her away a week before said event. The madman with gorgeous curly locks and old-fashioned cravat, who brought her to see places she never thought she would ever see. Of course, Yves told her that she went back to get married. She even told her that the madman had given her a gift of farewell, showing her a necklace.
"How about the second one?" Rose asked eagerly.
Yves smiled sadly and began telling her the tale of her and Nicholas Lane. It was story of them, falling madly in love, trying to build a life that was impossible to make.
"I couldn't give him what he wanted." Yves confessed. "So I left and never turned back. He married another girl and started his family."
Rose couldn't help but feel sad for Yves at that moment. Soon after, Rose had to go since she had work. And Yves was left alone. She cleaned and washed the mugs and glasses they used, fixing her sitting room back to the way it was. Flexing her arms, she released a yawn. It was late already when she finally finished cleaning. And so, she thought it was better if she got ready for bed. However, before she did, the telephone rang. Yves groaned, cursing whoever was calling at this time of night.
All her friends would get old or die, or stay young but still die. Either way, it never ends happily for them. And it always hurts Yves every time they do. And Yves sighed, and her cellphone rang.
"Hello." Yves answered happily, smiling.
However, what happiness she felt soon faded once she listened to the reason why they called.
"I'll be there in a few minutes." She said, hanging up.
Yves shrugged her coat on before walking out the flat, locking it. Quickly, Yves hailed a cab and instructed it to go to Albion Hospital. The drive was long and tense—at least for Yves, and the cabbie sensed this so he began talking to her about his family to distract her. This was something she appreciated and gladly talked with him about various things until she arrived at the hospital. Slipping out the cab and waving goodbye, she entered the hospital with dread in her heart.
Yves didn't have to ask the nurse to know where and which room she needed to go. She came here plenty of times to do that. Soon, she found herself in front of a familiar white door. It was closed like always. Her hands hovered around the doorknob. Indecision flooded her. Should she open it? She knew what lay beyond those doors. She had been here enough to know. Yet she couldn't bring herself to open it. Maybe it's because she knew it was going to be the last she did. Breathing out shakily, she opened the door, slowly pushing it, letting herself in.
In the dimly lit room, she could the outline of a withered old man, lying on a hospital bed. Slowly, she walked towards his side, tears glistening in her eyes. Yves looked at his sleeping face, full of serenity, and forever more he will remain. There were no words to describe how she left; nothing that could comfort her in her growing grief. Starting to tomorrow, he will be gone. It seemed like yesterday he was the dashing, young man she met in 1943. He was part of the special troop she led during WWII. With his glossy brown hair and cerulean eyes, he could have captured the eyes of any women. However, it was his selfless heart and his kindness that stolen her heart.
Touching his wrinkly hand, she caressed his knuckles. She stood and watched as he slept, memorizing ever line on his face. No matter how old he got, he still remained handsome to her. This was the price of her immortality on Earth. She would remain young while those she loved wither of old age and die. Many times she tried to distance herself to save her from pain. She would gain friends—that was inevitable—but she never let herself get too attached and, most especially, fall in love. Yet she knew there would always be that one person that would break her defenses. Nicholas Lane had done just that for the first and possibly the last time.
Her days with Nicholas were ones that she treasured greatly. They fought and bled together in the war, building a life together. He was the only one she ever truly opened up to. He knew of what she was and accepted her, loving her nonetheless. Yet there was a truth that haunted her. While he can spend the rest of his life with her, she could never spend the rest of hers with him. No matter how much she wanted to, she couldn't.
Yves remembered the day she left him.
From the shadows, she watched him live his life. He had a family, a wife and children. A life he could never have with her. All she could ever give was a lifetime of despair yet he never forgot. That was something she never did understand.
She still remembered the promise he made the last time they met.
Sorrowfully, she whispered in his ear, "Never make promises you can never keep." She pressed her lips on his forehead, closing her eyes.
Yves straightened up, releasing his hand, and turned away. However, she stopped when a hand gripped her wrist. She stiffened, breathing out a gasp. She turned around to see Nicholas looking at her with a dazed expression.
"Yvaine?" he croaked out.
"Yes. It's me." She said desperately, grasping his hand within hers. "Nicholas, I'm here."
"You cannot be her." He muttered, closing his eyes, repeating his phrase.
Yves looked at him in confusion, her eyes softening. He opened his eyes, staring into nothing.
"She walks in starlight in another world…far, far away from me. Silver light cloaked upon her like a robe while the sun was her crown. She is beautiful." He said dreamily, grasping her hand tighter. His face molded in sadness, his voice broken. "…but it was just a dream."
She didn't know what to say. She wanted to tell him she was here. She was real. Yet nothing came, she only stared with tears rolling down her cheeks.
Nicholas looked at her, a hopeful expression on his face.
"Do you think I would ever see her again?" he asked, almost pleadingly.
"You already have." She said; her voice breaking.
Nicholas smiled, wider than he ever had, until his eyes closed and his heart stopped beating. And his hand still held onto hers. Yves was crying, unable to control herself. Her heart was breaking and there was nothing she could do. Everything went in a blur and she found herself outside his room while the doctors and nurses did their work. She covered her mouth, swallowing back a sob.
He was dead.
Another person she ever loved was taken away from her.
There were wails coming from the end of the corridor. She turned to see Nicholas' family. They were mourning. And the only comfort they would get was that he died peacefully. She couldn't stand there for long, she knew that. They would start asking who last visited him. And Yves didn't want them to find her. So, she did what she did best.
She ran away.