AN: Hiya! Sorry about how long this took us. It's been...quite a month! But, this is a fun chapter, and we think you'll enjoy it. Thanks for all the follows and favorites and reviews! We lurv dem. Our review box is hungry! Anywho, Olivia and I had fun writing this chapter...we get more into Rose, and Oh. OH! There's a new character! Go meet 'em! Have fun! - M&O


Chapter 12: Transitions

Rose was, once again, being escorted through halls and corridors and rooms. Except, this time, instead of stones and stucco, the vast network of tree houses, vine ladders, and wooden bridges were made directly from the natural habitat around her. She couldn't help but think that this was every child's dream, Peter Pan's Neverland, though perhaps sans the cumbersome dress with which she was still battling. The adrenaline coursing through her and the fairytale surroundings did nothing to placate her nerves, however.

Where was she going? Why did the Leinedite advisors say she was their princess? Most importantly, where was her Doctor?

The guards accompanying Rose led her to a large, cabin-like hut built around a tree, at least one hundred feet above the ground. They stopped just before the bamboo door and released her arms, standing stiffly and silently on either side of the door.

"Is this where I'm living, then?" She asked, not truly expecting a response from these stony men. The guards stood still, gazing forward stolidly. "Is the Doctor coming too?"

Apparently not.

"Am I allowed to go in?" No answer.

She was frustrated, exhausted. She didn't know where the Doctor was, she didn't know where she was, and it all felt so overwhelming. Rose pulled open the doors and locked them behind her. She didn't look around and take in her surroundings. The only thing she allowed into her line of vision was the luxurious bed that spanned over half of the first room.

The tightness that had been building in her chest made her breath come with difficulty, and the tears she had been holding back came suddenly to her eyes. She ran toward the bed and collapsed into its welcoming sheets and comforters and pillows that smelled faintly of moss and pine.

Then Rose did the only thing she could. She took control over the only bit of her current situation that was still in her grasp and cried until she slept, releasing all the pent-up emotion and fear this first adventure had brought with it. As feelings seeped out in rivulets and left her dry, Rose's last thought as she slipped into unconsciousness was one of hazy contentment, that somehow this was life with the Doctor, and somehow it was worth it.

With a start, Rose returned to her senses, her mind much more clear than before her rest. Though the light filtering through her windows had not changed in all the time she'd been in Vasiior, she had the distinct feeling that it would have been early morning on Earth. With this realization came the unpleasant thought that she looked a right mess and hadn't in fact handled herself very well on this trip with her Doctor. Granted, she had suddenly dropped her whole entire life to follow and travel with someone she'd never met before. And now, she was separated from the only person she trusted and she was a stranger in a strange land, stuck in a international public relations nightmare. But, still, there was no reason at all to let her emotions dictate her behavior. She was London-born, 'keep calm and carry on' English after all. Obviously, she prefered to have the Doctor by her side, but if he wasn't readily available, she would just as well adapt.

For the first time since she arrived, Rose allowed herself to soak in her new surroundings in an effort to become situated. She had expected simplistic and moderately comfortable, the accommodations one might think fitting for a guest, but in reality her cabin was unexpected in every wayl. Her quarters was the size of a presidential suite, and as elegant as one, in an entirely rustic sort of way. The cabin was made of bamboo and mahogany and cherry, stretching up above her and weaving together in an arched ceiling. Vines of green ivy made their way through the panes and planks of her walls. She slipped her legs off of the bed and her feet felt the soft pelt rug resting on the floor, soft and thick.

Upon further examination, she saw that the bed was grown from the planks of the floor, completely attached, as if the tree decided itself to grow a little cottage. There were neither nails nor screws in the walls or the table or the bed or the door or her dresser; it was all woven together, one giant work of art. Rose couldn't help but imagine the walls filled with colour and passion, paintings born of the tree itself.

Next thing she knew, Rose was painting. Every plank, every corner, every knot of every board, every vine demanded colour. It had taken some searching, but Rose had eventually found vials of what looked to be Vasorian makeup in her armoire. Without a second thought, she took the liberty of personalizing her suite. There was a small cluster of bright yellow stars in one corner of the ceiling, bursting with light and life, and fields of grass and poppies on the floor, fresh and hopeful. She painted the Doctor's box, mid-journey, on the wall behind her bed. There was a Leneidite army galloping along the furniture - just over the wardrobe, next to her bedside table, everywhere. She was just about to paint a funny looking man with a glowing screwdriver, shouting at invisible enemies in the sky, when there was a sharp knock at her door.

Panic. Sheer panic was Rose's first reaction. Perhaps, just perhaps, she wasn't supposed to be redecorating. Perhaps, just perhaps, she could be in a fat lot of trouble once she was discovered. Lost as she was in her sudden inspiration, not once had she considered the propriety of the situation. Now, she figured that being sneaky was the best way to rectify the blunder. She crouched down slowly, careful to not make a sound, and sat on her floor, scooting on her bum towards the closet. She wasn't quite sure how that would do her any good, but her thoughts were too scrambled for her to care much.

Someone knocked again.

"Princess Nekoda? Are you there, my lady?"

"She's probably asleep. Best not to disturb her. She did seem a bit put-out yesterday."

"Well, she needs to get up. The Prince'll be here soon!"

If Rose's nerves weren't already running high, the mention of her apparent fiance sent them through the roof. Intent upon discovering the gravity of the situation, she inched closer to the door so as to eavesdrop more effectively.

"Did she, ah, appear different than you expected, Ury'hil?" This next line came much quieter than the last. "Not as, erm. Not as composed, perhaps?"

"Well we don't exactly know what a proper Leinedite looks like. We haven't even seen the princess before now."

"Shh, shh! Here he comes!" With this declaration, Rose heard a bit of scrambling.

"Prince Ezra'a, sir! It seems the princess is indisposed for company at the moment. She has yet to awaken."

Rose cringed. The prince was here. He was actually, physically outside of her cottage. The man she was supposedly going to marry unless the Doctor did some fancy footwork and did it soon.

"Good morning, Ury'hil, Stri'om! Well, we ought to do something about that, shouldn't we? I do hope she's as nervous about all of this as I am. How do I look?"

Rose felt a quick smirk flash across her face. She could almost hear the guards' thoughts as they fumbled for their next words.

A chorus of outrageous exclamations followed. "You look quite dapper, sire!" "Fantastic!" "Just marvelous." "She'll love you." "Handsome as you like!" "The true embodiment of all that is Vasiior, your Majesty!"

"Alright, alright, that's enough for now, you two. I can always count on you to inflate my already prince-sized ego." Rose heard his chuckle and footsteps approaching the door. She quickly stood up, brushing herself off, careful to not smudge any of her still-wet designs on the floor around her.

Once again, the knock.

"Princess? Princess Nekoda, are you awake? It's, um, it's Ezra'a. Ah, Prince Ezra'a that is. I'd be ever so happy if you opened the door."

Rose opened her mouth. What was she supposed to say? How does one address a prince-fiance? Should she act as herself or this mysterious Nekoda for whom she was masquerading? In the end, she offered a hesitant, "Come in?"

This was received with mixed responses. Someone, Rose assumed to be one of the guards, gasped, and the other stifled a chuckle. The Prince himself let out a loud, startled laugh.

"Your Majesty must have customs quite different to our own back in Leinede. How refreshing!"

Rose shuffled over to the door. "'Scuse me? What did I do?"

"Well, it's beyond me to question the actions of a princess, but never before have I been invited into a lady's living quarters."

Blushing profusely, Rose realized the possible connotations of her words and attempted to backtrack.

"I'll just, ah, come to you then!" Hurrying to the door, after taking a quick look in the mirror, she pulled back the bamboo panels. As was becoming quite familiar to Rose, the Vasorian sun blinded her eyes for a few brief moments, and she shielded her face from its powerful rays. As her eyes began to adjust, she was able to make out a striking silhouette in the doorway.


A/N: Well, hello there! I don't mean to be forward, but it is ever so nice to see you again. I know that was quite the long wait, and I'm grateful you've returned to take this trip with us. And boy, what a cliffhanger we've reached! We're so devious. This means you must come again. And while you're at it, please review our progress so far, especially if you favourite or follow. We'd like to know why you were compelled to do so! Until next time, lovely readers. -O&M