Yeah, written during a huge hurricane the other day. House got flooded, interesting afternoon. Anyway, hope you like this story, it's a bit short compared to a few other things I've done, I actually wrote it on a napkin!
I er...don't own anything...yet...we'll see...enjoy!
Quoth
By Romana Dante
The ground was wet and muddy beneath her feet as she walked through the drenched forest. Rain dampened her hair and her clothes to the point where she really did feel "chilled to the bone." The sky above through the trees was dark and grey, the very picture of a foreboding storm.
She shivered again and before long felt a long, warm coat being spread over her shoulders. "Do you want to keep going?" the Doctor asked, gently. She nodded, and the two trudged on.
A dark, black raven flew above them as they walked, screeching occasionally when it deemed appropriate. It's eyes followed Martha's as she walked, drenched, behind the Doctor, knowing deep down it would be worth it when they came to the end. Like Poe's haunting bird, it spoke specifically to Martha and her companion, taunting particularly the Doctor as if it really were screaming, "Nevermore, nevermore."
"We could turn back," the Doctor said again, "you don't need to see this that much," but he was wrong. Around her, familiar trees glistened with raindrops in the thin slivers of light in the forest. The rain poured in the cold air as a single raven stalked them in the dark, but she didn't care. Martha needed to see what the Doctor had to show her, and she knew he needed her to see it.
The wind picked up as they walked, the Doctor's coat billowing out behind her. She watched him walk ahead of her, seemingly untouched by the freezing air of the storm. He had a lower body temperature, he had told her, he could withstand anything apparently. The longer she knew him however, the more she found out, the farther they walked together, the more she began to wonder whether something else had made him this way. Was there something else that made him number, made him colder.
She was sure there was.
The raven screeched again as they reached their destination at the center of the woods. The one sliver of light through the trees was shining dimly onto the sight of a long forgotten item. Martha's eyes were wide as she saw it. "The leaves are silver," she said simply.
"Yes, they are," the Doctor agreed quietly, "It was the last thing standing other than me, taken from the mountains of South Gallifrey, just before it was destroyed."
"You took it?" Martha asked.
"I did," he reached out and held one of the sparkling leaves in his hand, "I knew, no matter what happened, that I didn't want my planet to be forgotten, so before the final battle, before everyone lost everything, I took the last tree standing."
"And you planted it here?"
"Yes," he let go of the leaf and sighed, his eyes sad and miles away. Martha turned and looked back the tree, it's sparkling silver magnified by the rain. It was beautiful, alien and mysterious, clearly part of a long lost and powerful world, clearly like the man standing next to her. She turned.
"How did it happen?"
"How did what happen?"
"The Daleks, how did they destroy your planet, why did they destroy it?"
"It wasn't the Daleks," the Doctor answered simply.
"Then who?"
The Doctor said nothing, looking straight ahead into the pouring rain around the tree, his face utterly emotionless. Behind him, the raven finally caught up to them, landing silently on the Doctor's shoulder. It screeched, and the Doctor turned.
"Quoth the raven," he said. Martha shivered.
"Nevermore."