A/N: I have discovered I am terrible at writing the Irish accent, so bear with it and I will attempt to get better! The names I have used are actually old irish-gaelic names so they will be exceedingly difficult to pronounce, but I thought it added some authenticity. Here we will get the first taste of our monsters for the story!
Chapter Two:
The road down was a bit bumpy, and Rose lost her footing more than once. She held tighter onto the Doctor's arm in order to keep her balance.
"Not very good at walking, huh? It's just one foot in front of the other," the Doctor asked, jokingly.
Rose glared. "Just because you're an alien with annoyingly good balance, don't mean the rest of us are graced with coordination. It's these bloody trainers, they are too caked in mud, I have no traction."
"Alright, we will find you some new shoes down at the village. And new clothes too. You stick out to much in a jumper and trousers. Women don't wear trousers in the 1470s you know," his tone was light and there was a twinkle in his eye.
"I know," Rose huffed. "It's not like I never cracked open a history book when I revised for my tests. What about you? You know that men didn't go around in ties and suits. Your buttons are plastic, when did they invent plastic mister smarty-pants?" She gave him a raised eyebrow right before stumbling over a rock. The embarrassing trip did nothing to enhance her intended serious tone. The Doctor snorted.
"No need to get shirty, I just thought you like the different fashion we see when we're travelling. Plus I think you'd look good in a petticoat."
Rose blushed. "Aren't you supposed to wear the petticoat under the dress?"
"Yes, but I doubt you'll find anyone rich enough to have a petticoat down here," the Doctor flushed, quickly avoiding the direction the conversation was heading. "Most of those women will be wearing simple linen dresses. Not that you won't look good in those either," he added hastily.
"Thanks, I think?"
"You're welcome, I think."
They had reached the bottom of the hill, and had made their way into the main part of the village. The houses were simple, the most elaborate were made out of stone, and the simplest were made from wood. The roofs were thatched and the walls had ivy and flowers growing up the sides, weaving through the stone- or wood-work. The windows were small and simple mainly because there was no glass panes inserted into them. They had wooden shutters blocking the inside from the worst of the elements in the windows' place. There were pig sties next to a couple of the houses, with pink plump pigs happily flopping in their mud. The most elaborate house in the village was twice the size of the others. The stonework was elaborate and rocks were manipulated into arches and patters around the windows and door. There was even a small garden out front with perfect flowers lined up like soldiers at attention.
Rose stood in the middle of the road and took in her surroundings. She had gone with her mum one summer to visit the tourist towns in northern England. They were old and historical and she remembered being very bored by the tour her mother insisted on taking. Jackie thought it would have been nice to get out of London, but even she was bored by the experience, said next time they'd go shopping. But the town they visited was beautiful. It was almost identical to the one she stood in now, except without the five hundred years of wear and tear. She felt, for the thousandth time, awe and wonder for her situation and ability to travel through time.
"You seem to be drawing a crowd," the Doctor stage-whispered to her. Rose snapped out of her daze and finally saw that she was, indeed, attracting a few eyes. There were several women who were staring at her, their expressions appalled. Men were staring at her for a whole different reason. An older man approached cautiously, keeping his eyes locked with hers as if to gauge her reaction.
"'Lo" the man said in a low, gravelly tone. His eyes were brown, with flecks of green, full of youthful light. They stood out in shocking contrast on his lined and weathered face. He had tuffs of grey-white hair sticking out at odd directions, though Rose couldn't tell if he was balding due to the cap placed strategically on his head. She placed his age late 60s to early 70s. "Can I ask ye' what yer doin' in our village?" His accent was strong and the words were muddled as they were forced past his lips.
"Hello," the Doctor said brightly, thrusting out a hand to greet the elderly man. "We are travellers from London. Came here on the recommendation of my aunt. Well I say aunt, she was really my mum's sister's second cousin once removed. Well I say cousin, really she was a distance relation, although I'm not sure if it was by blood or marriage or if she was actually related, could have been my eight cousin's second brother's dog for all I know. Either way, she said it was a lovely town with beautiful forests and rivers, insisted that we went to see it. I'm the Doctor."
The man shook the Doctor's hand and gave him a gruff smile. "Aye? We could use a doctor in this town, even if ye are English. An' who be the wee lass?"
"This is Rose Tyler, she's in my care. Parents killed in a horrible boating accident. Don't mind the clothing, our possessions were stolen and the only thing we had left was my spare outfit, hence the trousers. Here are our travel papers," he said, pulling out the psychic paper.
The man nodded his head, seemingly accepting the Doctor's story. "Aye, you 'ave to watch the roads. Highway men 'a plenty in the forest. Good for nothin' thieves is what they are." He eyed the forest contemptibly. "We 'ave a few clothing donations in the church. Nothing fine but it'll be more proper tha' what yer wearing now."
"Thank you, Mister..." Rose trailed off.
"Aodhán ó Raghallaigh. I'm the parish priest 'round these parts. Now come on with me an' we'll get you into proper dress." Aodhán led them towards the second largest building in the village.
"I thought you said the TARDIS translates languages," Rose whispered to the Doctor.
"It does, but his name isn't a language, it's his name."
"I can't pronounce old Irish!" Rose said quickly
"Just make it up as you go along. Or stick with sir. Or laddie. Probably shouldn't call him lass though."
"You think everything is funny don't ya?"
"Most everything, yeah," the Doctor smiled. Rose rolled her eyes.
The building they were heading to was built entirely from stone, all the way up to the tall spire that marked the church. Though it was the only building in the community to have windows, they were so ornate they made up for the rest of the village. The glass was stained in gorgeous tones of yellow, red and blue, with designs like flowers and crosses crafted into the windows. The doors were made from heavy oak, though the colour had been stained a dark walnut colour with age. They were decorated with cast iron hinges and door handles and squeaked as Aodhán opened the doors.
Inside was just a breathtaking as the outside. The pews were made of the same wood as the door, lined up in perfect rows facing an ornate table and podium. The early afternoon light streamed in through the stained glass, throwing colours over the slate floor. There was a small painting of the Virgin Mary to the right of the podium, and an elaborate carving of Jesus on the cross directly behind it. A relatively small pipe organ was to the left of the podium, complete with a small stool covered in rich cloth. It appeared to Rose that the wealth of the community was poured into this church.
"I've never seen a church like this before," Rose breathed to the Doctor.
"It's a Catholic church, much more pomp and circumstance surrounding the ceremony than what your used to in England, though the Church of England won't be created for another hundred years," the Doctor whispered back.
Aodhán walked slowly up the aisle and ducked into a small door off to the right of the pews. He brought out a chest and set it down on the pew closest to the front.
"This'll do you just fine," Aodhán said, pulling a simple dress from the chest. "An' here's a cover, fer your head, an' a pair o' shoes."
Rose took the items gingerly, not quite knowing what to do.
"Well we'll just go and wait outside?" The Doctor looked to Aodhán who nodded and started back towards the door. "I'll make sure no one comes in," the Doctor assured Rose.
She nodded. When she heard the door shut with a resolute thud, she began undressing herself. In a way, she was relieved to get out of her manky jeans, crusted with mud. She peeled off her jumper which was damp with sweat from their long hike. The cool spring air hit her skin, sending goose pimples racing up her arms. She looked at the dress, which she had placed on a pew and debated taking off her bra.
"Piss it with historical accuracy," she muttered to herself as she pulled the dress on over her underclothes. She carefully pulled her hair back and tucked it under the covering that Aodhán had given her. She toed off her trainers and socks and slipped on the simple shoes.
The kirtle style dress had a dark green smock that cinched right below her bust. The under shirt was white with sleeves reaching down to her wrists, with a bit of detailing on the cuff. The bodice was tightly lashed, making it difficult for her to breathe so she loosened it a bit, revealing some of the undershirt. She hoped it wouldn't be too much, as she really wanted to avoid a repeat of the stares. The dress flowed down her ankles, a length respectable for the time she was in, though Rose thought it was mostly cumbersome. The headdress reminded her of what she saw nuns wearing in old movies; the long white cloth wrapped around the back of her head and hung down to her shoulder blades. The shoes were simple black slippers and comfortable enough, but Rose wasn't sure if they would hold up to running if the situation called. And with the Doctor, the situation almost always called.
Rose sighed and smoothed the dress out around her stomach and hips before walking to the door and stepping back out into the village.
"...and me wife died givin' birth not too long afte' our first babe was weened. Little laddie died with her, God rest his wee heart. An' I never remarried, but my son has a wife and brood o' his..." Aodhán stopped when he saw that Rose had rejoined them. "Yer lookin' much improved, Miss Tyler," he said with a grin.
"Thank you for everything."
"So shall I show ye two 'round the rest o' the village?"
"That would be fantastic," the Doctor exclaimed with genuine enthusiasm.
"Alrigh'," Aodhán pushed himself off the door and walked down the road, towards some of the larger buildings.
"This here is my house," He said, pointing to small hut besides the church. "Don't need much an' I go to supper with my son most days. That there is the Mac Gearailt house, and next to them is the ó Coileáin home," Aodhán pointed to two similar houses, both made from stone, along the main path. "Fionnbharr ó Coileáin is one o' the best hunters in the village, and we are lucky enough' that he shares with the rest o' us in 'ard times."
Rose nodded, taking in the scenery, rather than the community names lesson. The Doctor on the other hand was fascinated by the mundane, bobbing his head enthusiastically at Aodhán's every word.
"An' here is the widow's home," he gestured to a shabby, run down house that looked large, but plain. "The women whose husbands died from this or that an' have no one to take care o' them end up here carin' for each other with help from the church."
"Are there many widows in a town this small?" Rose asked, her interest suddenly piqued. The Doctor gave her a loaded glance that told her he was thinking the same thing.
"Well we 'ave a few in the last few years, lost in the woods or killed out huntin'."
Rose thought Aodhán sounded evasive. "How do people get lost in the woods so easily? Don't they know the area? Especially the hunters."
Aodhán looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Well, if you believe the stories, they are deliberately taken into the woods."
"By what?" The Doctor could hardly contain his curiosity.
"In the past few years, there have been balls o' light appearin' in the forest a' night. They lead the men astray and most ar' n'ver seen again. It's the work o' those fae type. The lights are the lanterns o' the hinkypunks and goblins, leadin' good men off to die o' starvation in the woods for fun. But those are only stories," he added hastily.
The Doctor nodded. "There are no such thing as fairies," he agreed finally.
"An' that's what I tell the good church going folk, but superstition 'as taken a firm hold in their hearts," Aodhán nodded sadly.
He began the tour again, as if no conversation had taken place. As they walked up the road, Rose couldn't help but look towards the trees, attempting to discern and light or shapes moving in the woods. Aodhán gained her attention again when they stopped in front of the big house.
"An' this here is the ó Dubhuir family home. Richest ones in the area. Cian ó Dubhuir is the best blacksmith within three days ride, an' so all the people come to him for their problems. He can make anything from a sword to a 'orse shoe. Fixed up me church doors just last winter when they broke. Got four daughters and two sons, poor lad. But he does alright, lemme tell ya. Got an offer made to him for 'is oldest's hand in marriage just a fortnight ago. Rich man, from one o' the bigger towns. She's the most beautiful girl you ever did see, I promise ya that."
As if on cue, the blacksmith walked out from his house, ducking under the door frame. And he had to duck, as he was a large, broad shouldered man, more than a foot and a half taller than Rose. His hair was a black, furry mane speckled with flecks of grey, which overtook his face in a short, but thick, beard. His green eyes shone out of his hooded brow which was topped off with thick black eyebrows. His hands alone were the size of dustbins and his legs as thick as trees. He was the biggest man Rose had ever seen. She was taken aback by his size.
"Afternoon' Aodhán. An' who these folk be?" He asked, gesturing to Rose and the Doctor.
"These be travellers from London. I am showin' them the village."
He nodded amiably. "Aye, we could use some travellers buyin' our wares. Don't hesitate to come by the shop, I can make most things ye ask fer. Not too bad as a Greensmith or a Silversmith meself." He nodded to Rose and the Doctor before turning his attention back to Aodhán. "Just tell 'em to be weary o' the will-o-the-wisps, now, ya hear? Don't want no more folk to go missin' in them woods." He stalked off along the road, down towards his shop, waving his goodbye.