Author's Note:
Some language borrowed from Doctor Who again when explaining where James came from.
Allow me to reassure you that this off-the-wallness is temporary, and we'll be returning to our regularly scheduled FFXV plot soon. Thank you for the indulgence.
When Ignis opened his eyes, the sun was only beginning to rise, adding a touch of pink and gold to the very point at which it was beginning to push its way up out of the horizon.
Just to ensure the entire experience he'd had last night hadn't been some sort of wild hallucination, as he so often seemed to believe these days, he checked to ensure Rose's gold filament was still there. He reached for it, caressing it and savoring the comforting weight of her in his mind, and he felt her body stir beside him as the thread grew brighter with her awareness.
"Mmmmm," she said, leaning up to nuzzle at the crook of his neck. "Good morning. Did you sleep well?"
She should know, he thought, as she'd been there with him all night. But he did, in fact, feel well-rested, as though he'd been sleeping and not making a tree, getting accosted by a madwoman, and visiting home.
She chuckled. "There will be some getting used to things today. You might have some trouble balancing our connection and interacting with the real world. It'll be hardest when I'm farther away, but since we're safe, I should probably try to stay away at least a little bit so you can get used to things. Just start paying attention to what's in your mug, or Noct might think I've wiped your brain."
Her mind grew serious as she looked into his eyes. "Are you going to tell the others?"
He hesitated in thought. While he felt it was important that his closest friends knew something so profound about him, he wasn't yet ready to share it with anyone. He imagined trying to explain what it was they shared and everyone's reaction to this inhuman relationship—particularly after their reaction to their first night together. No, he didn't think he was ready for it. Perhaps when he felt he could even begin to describe it to someone else, he would.
"All right," she sighed, "I'm always going to leave this sort of thing up to you, but just so you know, it's only going to get harder to tell them the longer you wait."
She reached up and feathered a gentle finger over his lips, and he leaned forward, catching it gently between his teeth for a moment before letting her go.
"You're going to have to work on that," she said, touching his lips again. "You haven't said a word out loud to me since you woke up. They're going to find it rather odd if you stop talking altogether."
Gently clearing his throat of his sleepy hoarseness, he said, "They might prefer it, if it means I cease nagging them."
"For all their grousing, they love that you take care of them." Now let me take care of you, she said as she raised his t-shirt just enough to expose his chest and torso, nipping and kissing her way down to the trail of hair that led beneath his pajamas, and he sucked in a quiet breath and closed his eyes, his hands threading through her hair as she moved lower.
They stood about fifteen paces apart, dressed in their Crownsguard and Kingsglaive uniforms, glaring at each other across the distance. While he could still feel her gold thread, she had closed her thoughts to him, much as he had to her. She inclined her head, her gaze turning flirtatious and mischievous as she repeated the phrase she always did when they did this.
"Dance with me."
They ran at each other, and as she drew closer, the shift of her weight off her left hip as she brought her leg up and around to kick at his head seemed to almost appear in his mind, so he automatically dropped to his left, extending a leg out to steady himself as his left hand brushed the dirt. Pivoting his weight to bring his extended leg out, he attempted to swipe her feet out from underneath her, but she hopped easily over it, spinning to the side and setting up to kick at his head again as he spun in the opposite direction, getting to his feet and raising his fists.
It had only taken a single session with her before he'd learned that one didn't pull punches when fighting with Laura. It wasn't that he'd been afraid to hit a woman in a mock combat situation; he'd sparred with many women in his life. It was simply a matter of courtesy that one didn't put all of one's strength into an attack whether the opponent was male or female, even if that meant the sacrificing of a sliver of one's full speed. But after nearly half an hour of trying his hardest to land any sort of touch to her, he realized that she could move faster than any human could, Intuition or not, so it had been in his best interest to release the full measure of his strength and speed on her when they sparred.
As he straightened, he feinted a blow to her jaw with his left hand as he brought his right to her abdomen, but she bent below both hands and brought a leg up to his ribs, knocking him sideways before he could flip back on his hands. He stumbled in an attempt to regain his balance, but she leapt at him, cuffing him around the neck and sending him crashing to the ground with her straddling his middle.
"Good," she said, leaning down to capture his lips briefly. "Again."
He fell to her blows three more times that morning, which was a vast improvement over the twenty or thirty he'd endured every morning when they first began. Still, his more competitive side would always be a bit bruised when fighting her, as he knew that she mostly kept to a human's speed and strength to make it fairer for him, but it meant he would never win outright.
Gods, you're doing so well, so quickly. We should start you on blades tomorrow.
I can hardly wait, he said sarcastically, imagining how many times he would be flayed alive before he learned enough to avoid her blows.
Oh come on, love. You know I would never do that to you. It'll be just like the spar with Cor—actually less battering than the martial arts alone, though don't think you won't get knocked to the ground anymore.
Good, he said with a provocative glance from the side of his eye as they made their way down the hill to the house. I should hate to think I no longer have an excuse to have you on top of me any longer.
I think you still have plenty of excuses outside of sparring for that.
Ignis was about to grasp the handle of the front door when it was pulled out of his reach, the door opening to reveal Gladio.
"Hey," Gladio said with a wide smile, but familiarity with him these past weeks made it all too clear to Ignis that his cheery demeanor was still a façade. "You two just get done sparring?"
"Yes," he replied, narrowing his eyes at the smirk that had appeared across Gladio's lips at the mention of their morning activities.
The others always seemed to behave oddly when the topic of his and Laura's morning matches came up, especially when they reviewed a blow by blow analysis of their mock battles. Noct had nearly convulsed once when Laura mentioned that she'd given him a good licking, so they'd taken to discussing their fights telepathically. It seemed Gladio was the only one of the three who still brought the matter up, though he always did so with that spark of mischievous humor Ignis couldn't understand. It wasn't as though he himself didn't spar with Laura most mornings.
"Anyway," Gladio said, maneuvering between them, "gotta get goin'. My ride's waiting."
"Gladio, wait," Laura called after him when he was almost down the steps, and he turned to look at her. For once, they were almost the same height as she stood on the top step and pulled him into her arms, pressing her lips to his cheek before squeezing him tightly. "Please, please be careful. Come back to us soon, and in one piece, yeah?"
I don't have any proof, but I feel as though he's going to do something dangerous, she said.
"Gladio, do be certain not to do anything I wouldn't," he said gravely as Gladio wrapped his arms around Laura's back and returned her embrace.
He smiled over her shoulder at him. "That doesn't leave me with a lotta options, Ig." He pulled away from Laura and gave them a casual wave. "Anyway, see you guys soon."
Will he be all right? he asked as they stood watching him walk down the hill.
I don't know, but I don't think he'll find his peace without doing whatever this is.
Though they took turns showering in the guest bathroom downstairs, she joined him as he applied the wax to his hair, summoning his shaving kit as she had their first morning together to lather his soap and hone his razor on the strop.
We should make breakfast for everyone this morning—give Monica a break after last night and thank everyone for their hard work, she said, standing and gently removing his hands to assist him with the more stubborn feathering at the back of his neck. Eager to save time, he nodded his thanks and began lathering his face and neck as she worked.
"Yes, a very good idea," he agreed.
"Actually, would you mind getting started on that yourself? Think I'm going to head up to the lighthouse and see if Cid wants to join us. I'll either have to charm the pants off him or beat him up to get him to leave his work, but one way or another, he's coming down here. That poor man needs a break."
They hadn't seen hide nor hair of the man since they'd arrived the previous afternoon, and they'd all heard from Dustin and Monica that he'd barely left the boat, sleeping in the cabin below and taking his meals on the deck as he worked.
"Yes, of course." He leaned to kiss her on the cheek before swiping a dollop of lather he'd left behind on her face.
When they emerged from the bathroom, she pulled two loaves of hot bread from her Pocket and handed it to him.
"Do whatever you like with those and I'll hopefully be back down soon to help."
"How are these still piping hot? They feel as though you just pulled them out of the oven. I never did ask after the Ebony."
Her brow furrowed. "I thought your armiger was null-time. Isn't it how you keep ingredients fresh? I just put them away as soon as I took them out."
He shook his head. "Our armiger is less versatile than yours, it would seem. It does keep ingredients fresh, but not to a specific temperature."
"Oh gods, if I'd known, I would've offered so much sooner. I guess I just never use yours for stuff like that. Ignis, we can pre-cook meals while we're here and pull them out when we have late nights on the road. It would save you so much time."
"Truly? I'll have to make a plan tonight then,"he said, setting the loaves on the counter before they grew too hot for him to handle.
"All right, I'll come back up to help as soon as I finish dragging Cid's unconscious body down here. Try not to use any knives while I'm gone, yeah? First time the bond's going to be tested."
"All right. Do take care not to hurt Cid too badly. We do need him to fix the boat, after all."
It wasn't until she had closed the front door behind her that he began to feel it—her presence growing farther away as it had with their temporary connection, and he found himself grasping involuntarily at the thread in his head until his entire mind was focused on her thoughts and the sight of the uneven rocky steps buried in the sand leading up to the lighthouse.
I'm still here, love. You don't need to hold on so tightly.
I know; I'm trying. I just can't seem to help myself.
Only vaguely aware of his own body, he reached into the refrigerator, deciding that something simple like eggs, fruit, and toast would be best, given his state this morning. It took him an absurd amount of time to pull out each piece of fruit one by one, pushing aside Laura's sight long enough to verify that he was reaching for the correct object before carefully setting it on what may or may not have been an empty spot on the counter. This frustrating process was followed by the vegetables he intended to use in the scrambled eggs, then the eggs themselves.
Laura was just stepping onto the boat when he felt a rough shove to his side, and he turned to focus on Cid . . . no, Noct examining him.
"Are you okay, Specs? Been calling your name for like, five minutes now."
"Yeah, man, never seen anyone take that long to pick out ingredients before," Prompto laughed uncomfortably from behind Noct before narrowing his eyes in concern.
I'm quite all right, thank you for your concern, he said with a nod before turning back to reach for the bowl on the shelf above his head.
"Aww, you're not mad about yesterday, are you?" Prompto asked, his expression growing troubled as he shifted from foot to foot. "We were just havin' fun."
You'll need to say that to them out loud, love, Laura said gently.
"Yeah, we're sorry if we . . . you know, offended you or anything," Noct agreed. "I swear I put your clothes back just how I got 'em."
As Cid's lecture about getting his work completed before the retinue set sail assaulted his ears, he struggled to concentrate enough to find a space to put the bowl on the counter, but he'd misjudged as he set it haphazardly on the egg cartons, where it fell to the countertop with a rolling clatter that seemed to last an absurdly long time. At registering Noct's words, however, he found it easier to settle completely into his own mind and look up sharply at him.
"I beg your pardon?" he asked, ignoring the way Noct's and Prompto's eyes shifted back and forth between him and the bowl. "What's this about my clothes?"
"Uhh, you know what? Never mind. Where's Laura?"
She's . . . "She's threatening Cid with bodily harm if he refuses to join us for breakfast."
"I wish her the best of luck with that," Dustin said as he and Monica entered the main room from the door that led to the hall of bedrooms where they, Lady Iris, and Talcott slept.
"Good morning," Ignis greeted as he set up the mixing bowl and opened the carton of eggs. It was fortunate he could accomplish this task without sight or concentration, as the shifting perspectives between the lighthouse and the work in front of him would have meant more shell than egg in the bowl for a man of lesser skill.
You just need to let go and let it settle.
I see now why you required us to be safe for a few days. Will it really take that long?
"Please, have a seat and relax," he said to Dustin and Monica before they headed toward the kitchen, likely to assist him. "Laura and I will be taking over breakfast, as a thank you for your hard work and hospitality."
"Your thanks isn't necessary; it's our pleasure to serve you boys. But I'm very interested to sample some of the famous Mr. Scientia's cuisine regardless," Monica said.
If I stay far enough away to allow you to practice, you should be able to handle yourself all right by the end of the day, maybe tomorrow. All your telepathic and combat practice helps.
"I'm afraid it won't be anything terribly elaborate this morning. Perhaps I can plan something more befitting for this evening."
He had made it halfway through breaking the two dozen eggs when Laura's perspective inserted itself into his own again. Though Cid's expression was twisted in irritation, Ignis could see the twinkle in his eyes as Laura clung to the arm that was holding a wrench over the boat's engine.
"Please, Cid?" Laura begged, and he could tell from the tone of her voice she was fluttering her eyelashes at the poor man. "I'm jus' tryin' ta get a good lookin' man to agree t'a date wiv me!"
"Phooey," Cid spat, but he put the wrench down, his lips quirking up into a smile.
Ignis chuckled, shaking his head. You can't blame the man for being somewhat irritated for you wrenching him away from his work.
Why not? It's practically what I do for a living.
"What are you laughing at?" Noct asked, looking at him as though he'd lost his mind, and perhaps he had.
"Apologies, just thinking of something else," he replied. Just watching my wife flirt with a man one-one hundredth her age from a tenth of a mile away.
He froze at his thought, the egg in his hand hovering just over the rim of the bowl. Was that what she was now? His wife? He allowed himself to let the concept fill his mind—possessing her, claiming her for his own . . . yes. It filled him with a masculine pride and power that surprised him with its intensity.
Of all the things that could have happened when they'd set out to meet Noct's bride, finding one of his own was not a scenario he could have ever imagined. He'd never given much thought to when or if he would marry; it had always been a nebulous possibility far along in his future. But why had he not thought of it in those terms until now? It somehow made their bonding more real, even if the concept was no different than what he'd promised her last night.
My wife, he thought to himself, and reveled in the pleasure he received from hearing it in his mind.
My husband, he heard her echo in his thoughts.
And that was yet another angle to think of it from. He pictured himself as her husband and all the feelings and responsibilities he felt the title entailed. He would cherish her, protect her, serve, care, and provide for her—as best he could, as he knew she was more than capable of doing all those things for herself. Still, it would be his honor to do so.
I think I understand. Bonding and telepathy and connections—they don't have the centuries of cultural history behind them that words like marriage do for you. We could even do a traditional Lucian ceremony, or whatever your customs are here, if you wanted. It's important to me that you feel this is legitimate in your culture as well.
Would you be all right either way? Now that he was already essentially married, he wasn't certain how he felt about drawing so much attention to themselves. A bonding was already far more binding than a wedding, after all, and with them seeming to attract the attention of more and more enemies by the day, concealment of their status would probably be for the best.
Yes, whatever you want to do. While I agree drawing attention to ourselves while Ardyn is so interested in us is a bad idea, you should also keep in mind that a ceremony is for the benefit of the friends of the couple, as well. You should tell them eventually, love.
"Seriously, Iggy, what the hell?" Noct cut into their conversation, and Ignis realized he'd stood frozen over the bowl for far too long to be considered normal. "Yesterday was one thing, but today's worse. Really. Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I can help with some of that, ya know," Prompto pointed to the eggs. "Long as you don't ask me to do any like, actual cooking or anything."
"Thank you for the offer, Prompto, but I have matters well in hand. As to my state today, I assure you it should pass by tomorrow. Truly, Highness, I'm quite all right. If you will excuse me for a moment?"
Stay outside when Cid comes in, he instructed her just as he felt her stepping on the front porch.
He had neared the door when Cid opened it, who was grumbling to himself as he maneuvered past Ignis to sit down at the table.
"Pardon me," Ignis said with a slight bow before heading out to the porch.
She was waiting for him down the steps and around the corner, out of sight.
"You're my wife," he said before he strode up to her, wrapped his hands around the back of her neck and head, pushed her to the wall, and lunged for her mouth.
Mine. My friend. My lover. My wife.
Ignis . . . my beloved. My precious husband.
"Are you all right?" she asked when they pulled apart, but she continued to press sweet, slow kisses on his neck and beneath his collar.
He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, a chuckle escaping his lips, and without opening his eyes or answering her, his chuckles grew to laughter.
Okay, 'no' seems like the safe answer.
"Forgive me. It's just that I can't think of any moment in my life when I have ever been more all right."
"Come on, loon," she said with a chuckle, chucking him under the chin and leading him back up the stairs. "I'll help with breakfast before Noct starts cracking potions over your head, but then I'm staying far enough away for you to practice. You don't have to hold that dual sensation unless you want to, you know."
I know, he said as they entered the house together, and I apologize if I've been irritating you, haunting your mind like some sort of phantom.
Nonsense. You know I love having you here. But I know from personal experience that it takes some getting used to.
"This little lady won' take 'no' for an answer," Cid grumbled as they passed him, jerking a thumb in Laura's direction. "An' it looks like breakfast ain't even ready yet. You know how much work I could be gittin' done right now?"
"Hush," she said sternly. "You're gonna sit, relax, an' be a part o' the group for an hour—no more, no less. You're gonna have a fantastic meal, and then ya can go back to your cave. Don't make me call Cindy!"
"Hmph!"
Ignis collapsed onto the couch, enjoying the feeling of slouching for a moment before pulling himself straight and crossing his legs. Summoning his notebook, he began compiling a menu that would feed the five of them for two weeks, listing the ingredients he would need, and deciding the optimal order in which to accomplish the task in a day.
It had been a more toilsome day than he'd expected it to be, considering that all he did was putter around the cape, assisting Dustin with house maintenance and attempting to stay as far away from Laura's mind as he could. Noct and Prompto had taken Talcott to the shore to teach him how to fish while Laura and Lady Iris planted an entire plot of Caem Carrots to barter with a restauranteur who was in search of the rare ingredient. Fortunately, Noct and Prompto had relaxed some at the return of his usual behavior once Laura had stayed by his side for breakfast, but he feared Dustin was now concerned for his sanity, as he had tried several times that day to speak to Laura or engage Lady Iris in conversation as he worked. At one point, he'd even reached down to move the trowel in front of him out of the way, only to find Dustin staring at him in confusion as he grasped for empty air.
As he listed the ingredients they would need to pick up from the JM Market truck at the base of the hill in the morning, he felt Laura sit down on the bed she'd claimed, and he looked up to see Noct and Prompto join him on the ottomans across, pulling out their phones to start a game.
What is it? he asked, feeling Laura's mind glowing in admiration as he worked.
I knew your mind was beautiful the day I met you—the colors of your shifting thoughts and the quiet intensity of it standing out to me before you had even entered the room. Our superficial joining merely confirmed it. But now with the true bond, I can honestly say that I will never tire of watching your mind work. It's exquisite, Ignis.
Rose . . . I'm making a to-do list, he said skeptically.
Even so.
Well, seeing as how you're stuck with me, it's probably for the best that you find me so alluring.
"Hey Laura," Prompto said, lunging off the ottoman for a moment to slap her knee. "Why don't you borrow Iggy's phone and play with us?"
Ignis pulled out his phone without looking up and held it out to Prompto to pass to her. "Yes, please, help yourself."
"All right," she said taking the phone from Prompto. "But you're going to be sorely disappointed. Afraid I'm no good at video games. Will you guys teach me?"
"Dude, King's Knight isn't a video game; it's a way of life!" Prompto cried out.
"Oh! My apologies!" she said in mock horror, sticking her tongue out at him and tossing a throw pillow at his head.
They played for about an hour while Ignis worked, with Laura starting out poorly and getting progressively worse.
"It's about time you're horrible at something," Noct said, laughing.
"What can I say? I warned you," she replied with a smile.
"For a first time, I think you managed all right," Ignis said diplomatically as he stowed his phone away. "But I think it's time for me turn in for the night." He hadn't realized it until that moment, but he was exhausted.
"I'm about ready to pass out myself," Noct said with a yawn.
"Me too," Prompto agreed. "Somethin' about bein' at the beach all day wears me out."
Four beds, four occupants, he said, shaking his head as he headed toward the restroom to ready himself for bed.
But we'll always be together now. Do you wish to sleep in your own head tonight, or share? she asked him.
"Oh, I should think sharing, from now on, if you don't mind," he replied.
As he shut the bathroom door behind him, Laura's perspective growing more and more prominent in his mind, he saw the identical expressions of bemusement on Noct's and Prompto's faces.
"He was just . . . answering a question I'd asked him. You had to have been there," she said to them.
Drat, and he'd been doing so well this evening.
When the four of them were all in their own beds, Ignis spared Laura a longing glance across the way before Prompto leaned over to turn off the last light. He felt her pulling him under through their bond the moment he closed his eyes, and he sunk into the feeling, crossing to the center of the bridge the moment he was fully asleep. She was waiting for him when he arrived.
"It should be easier tomorrow, I promise," she said.
"I certainly hope so," he said, taking her into his arms and kissing her temple. "Otherwise they're going to have me committed by the end of the day."
"We'll worry about that tomorrow. Where do you want to go tonight?"
"I'd like to meet the Doctor, if that's all right with you," he said, brushing his fingers against her cheek.
She seemed to study him for a moment, and even he was able to fathom how odd it must have seemed for a current husband to request to meet the late husband, even if one didn't take into account the fact that the man had been dead for longer than the line of Lucian Kings existed. But she clearly still loved the Doctor fiercely; he could see it in her face every time she remembered him. If her enduring love for him was any indication of how she would feel for Ignis seven thousand years after they were parted, he would be most fortunate indeed. And he had to admit to himself that he was, perhaps, the slightest bit curious to meet the only other man in existence that had belonged to her as thoroughly as he himself did.
"You're incredible," she said, looking up at him with a soft smile. "Not even a hint of jealousy."
"I don't see why I should be," he replied furrowing his brow down at her. "You couldn't possibly belong to me any more than you do already."
"Just don't expect the same courtesy from him," she said, nodding to direct his attention behind him. "Clearly, age isn't necessarily an indicator of maturity."
Ignis turned around to see the shed he'd seen once in her dreams. It reminded him of the phone booths he used to see around Insomnia before mobile technology took over their society, but the panels were a weathered blue wood, with two paned windows set at eye level in front. The words POLICE PUBLIC CALL BOX were written above the door in bold, white letters.
"Again, I seemed to have missed some detail in your plan. I thought we were meeting the Doctor."
Though it was unlikely, given the stories she'd told about her late husband thus far, he supposed it wasn't completely beyond the realm of possibility that the Doctor had been a blue shed. He really ought not to make any sort of assumptions about anything when on these mad adventures.
"Yes, but meeting the Doctor means meeting the TARDIS," she said, approaching the shed and reaching a hand out to stroke the wood as though it were a beloved pet. "She's just as important as the Doctor, though she would likely argue that she's more important."
Ignis reached out to run his fingers along the wooden corner. It felt warm to the touch, and if he concentrated, he could feel a gentle vibration, like a humming, emanating through the shed up to his fingertips.
"She's alive?"
"She's a sentient time and space ship," she said with a nod. "The Doctor lives and travels in her; I did as well, for a couple of years. We ran across all of time and space together, and she and I got . . . really close. Come on, let's go inside."
"This time and space ship is made of wood," he said flatly.
She grinned at him before looking down, flipping the pendant of her necklace over, and pulling out a key set into the white-silver metal.
"Remember, looks can be deceiving. Come on in," she said, opening the creaking door.
The room inside was enormous, with a high ceiling, walls covered in round lights, towering gold coral branches, and an array of electric cords dangling haphazardly from above. In the center of the room stood what appeared to be a circular control panel of sorts, covered in various odds and ends that he supposed were controls, though they appeared to Ignis as a random assortment of knickknacks collected from various junk shops. As he studied the panel, he thought he recognized a bicycle air pump and a paperweight, even. From the center of the control panel rose a column, pulsing with a blue-green light that seemed to radiate life as it reached to the ceiling and cast the dark room in an eerie glow.
"It's larger than all of Insomnia back there," Laura said, pointing to a door on the other side of the room. "I mean it. The Doctor once had an entire family living back there for years that he forgot about."
"This ship managed to create a pocket universe that one could step into?" he asked in awe as he stared around at the room.
"Yes, but ooh, would the Doctor be disappointed you didn't say it was 'bigger on the inside.'"
"Is that what everyone says?" he asked, somewhat pleased with himself for understanding at least one aspect of this alien world.
She smiled. "Yep, said it myself when I first walked in. Well . . . walked in, walked back out and around the outside, escaped a murderous plastic version of my boyfriend, then walked back in again."
"Rose Tyler," Ignis heard a man's voice from the other side of the control panel say in an unfamiliar accent. "It's been far too long since you pulled me out o' th' mothballs for a good chinwag."
The man that stalked from the other side of the control panel was somewhat daft-looking, with a rather large nose and ears, but Ignis could see the soldier in the man's demeanor— strong brow, functional leather jacket and boots, dark short-cropped hair, and piercing ice blue eyes. His expression seemed to transform completely, however, as soon as he'd caught sight of Rose, becoming animated with a wide grin that Ignis could only describe as foolish. Whatever degree of sentience this projection possessed clearly recognized Rose despite her appearing in her blue-eyed, black-haired form.
"Are you living a fantastic life, like I asked?" the man Ignis assumed to be the Doctor asked as he looked down at her tenderly.
"I am now," she said, turning her head to Ignis with a bright smile, and his heart seemed to skip a beat at her words and the look in her eyes. "This was what the Doctor looked like when I first met him. He's a full Time Lord, and when he dies, he regenerates—every cell in his body changes to save himself. One of our adventures went a bit . . . wrong, and he died to save me."
"I thought you told me your husband was half-human, half-Time Lord," Ignis said, though he supposed he should have expected something overly complex the moment she'd mentioned 'multiple bodies' the previous evening.
"Oi, I'm standin' right 'ere, d'you mind?" the Doctor asked, the pitch in his voice going up in offense.
"Forgive me, I do beg your pardon," Ignis said as he bowed his head in contrition.
Though the Doctor was the same height as he, he seemed to tower over him as he drew close, his blue eyes turning even icier as he studied Ignis intensely, seeming to stare into his soul. Recognizing this as a challenge, Ignis stood his ground, pulling his spine straight and setting his features to the cold expression he reserved for gaining ground in diplomatic relations.
"Bloody hell, the testosterone," he heard Rose say, "Don't let him wind you up."
"So . . . it's finally happened; you've gone domestic again. This him then?" the Doctor asked sternly, still glaring inches away from Ignis's face.
"His name is Ignis," she replied. "Be nice!"
"He's a bit pretty."
"Hadn't noticed," she said sarcastically.
Were they truly bantering about his physical appearance, flattering though it was, while the man who may or may not have been her late husband stared him down?
I told you you were beautiful. And he certainly has no reason to lie.
The Doctor's face transformed again, his eyes growing bright and that mad grin he sometimes saw Rose imitate spreading across his face.
"Very well then! A pleasure to meet you, Eustace! Should probably get goin' though. Don' wanna be late for the main event," he said stepping away with a cheery wave and disappearing.
"Ignis," he corrected automatically to the empty air in front of him, and Rose chuckled, wrapping her arm around his and leaning into his shoulder.
"Honestly love, that's his version of polite. Not everyone is as gentlemanly as you are."
"Clearly," he remarked. "And how does this Time Lord relate to your half-Time Lord husband? I assume it has something to do with his . . . transformation?"
"Regeneration, it's called. And . . . sort of," she said, nodding to the door that led to the back of the ship.
A frenetic ball of energy stalked out of the door, rushing to the control panel as though the world were about to end, flipping switches, pumping handles, and spinning dials seemingly at random. He seemed to dance and spin around the circular panel carelessly with a familiar mad grin as he continued to work.
He was completely unrecognizable from the last man they'd met—tall and thin, dark brown hair arranged haphazardly in spikes, thick-rimmed glasses, and a brown suit with blue pinstripes.
Plimsolls with a suit? he asked dubiously.
Says the man currently wearing a coeurl-print dress shirt with a studded collar, she said, smiling and sticking her tongue out at him.
He couldn't help but notice the physical similarities between this man and himself, dress-sense notwithstanding, and for the first time this evening, he felt a stirring of uneasiness. Was she only attracted to him because he reminded her of the Doctor?
Absolutely not, she said vehemently. There are some minor surface similarities in your physical descriptions, yes, though I'd argue that you're more elegant. You're both extremely intelligent and have a penchant for wearing glasses you don't need. But believe me, the comparison stops there. You'll see all too clearly in a moment that I love you for who you are, not for who he is. You're nothing alike in personality.
"Where to next, Rose?" the Doctor asked as he continued to dance around the control panel. "We could go to Gajarik Bfphtorak next. They've got the absolute best banana milkshakes this side of the cosmos! And if we go in the 34th century, they've got an anti-gravity buffet—superb rejit krispies! But you'll need to change into a plastisuit first, you know—the mess. Or! We could hit up the planet Barcelona to see the dogs with no noses. Never did get around to doing that, did we? Hold on—"
He skidded to a halt and whipped his head up to face them.
"Oh! Hello! Sorry to be rude, but that's me: rude and not ginger, but who are you? I'm the Doctor! Welllll, not really," he rattled, squinting and rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm more of a temporal flashback brought to life by the firing of groups of neurons in Rose's brain in the same pattern that created the original experience . . . wellll, not really; it's complicated; she's combined my memories and brainwave patterns accessed through her bond with the TARDIS with her own. But oh! I suppose you wouldn't understand that yet; she hasn't gotten around to that part, has she? Sorry!"
Heavens, did he always go on like this?
Ha! That man could talk for England—talk his way out of any war, prison cell, or monarch interested in executing us.
"This was the man you spoke of that refused to use a weapon?"
"That's right! Don't need weapons when you've got words! And your trusty sonic screwdriver," the Doctor said, holding up a device and giving Ignis a click of the tongue and a wink.
"And this man was the one who became your husband? The one you bonded with?"
"Wellll, no, not exactly," the Doctor said as he thrust his head between them with a finger raised. "You see, I'm still a full Time Lord. Rose and I were never . . . anyway. I went ahead and died again, but I didn't want to change. Why would I? Just look at me!" He sniffed and straightened his tie, thrusting his chin high into the air. "Used the regeneration energy to heal myself, but as soon as that was done, I didn't need to change. So, to stop the energy going all the way, I siphoned off the rest into a handy bio-matching receptacle, namely my hand. My hand there," he said, nodding to a bubbling jar at the base of the control panel, in which sat a severed hand. "My handy spare hand."
"Do Time Lords typically have more than two hands?" Ignis asked him, searching for where a third appendage might have been.
"Nahhhh," he said, holding up his right hand and wiggling his fingers. "Got cut off in a swordfight with a Sycorax in the first fifteen hours of my regeneration cycle and grew it back."
"Which led to the events that created me, of course," said a second man as he emerged from behind the control panel. "Hello! I'm the Doctor! Or James, as Rose sometimes likes to call me, just to differentiate me from this spaceman over here," he said, jerking a thumb over at the first Doctor.
"Oi! Watch it!" the first Doctor threatened.
Ignis turned to Rose, his eyes widening, completely dumbfounded. "It's no wonder you're completely mad," he whispered.
The second man was absolutely identical to the first, except that he wore a blue suit over a purple t-shirt. He had the same wild, brown eyes; the same wild, spiky hair; and the same frenetic manner.
The blue suited Doctor turned back to Ignis. "All that regeneration energy went into the hand," he said, holding up his right hand, and Ignis cast a glance back down to the bubbling jar, which was now empty. "Look at that hand—I love that hand—but then Donna Noble touched it. WHAM! Instantaneous biological metacrisis! Part-Time Lord, part-human—one heart, no regenerations, one life to live. You see, I'm sort of a clone, but from two people, and I've got all the Time Lord's memories."
"Oi! Not a clone—a metacrisis," the brown-suited Doctor corrected.
"Oh, come on, you prawn," he argued, gesturing at Ignis. "The man may be a genius, but he's not going to understand what a metacrisis is. I'm a unique event in time and space as it is!"
"All right, that's enough, you two," Rose interrupted, and they both turned to look at her, falling silent.
"I suppose it would be easier to explain the rest without us here bickering at each other," James said, rubbing at the back of his neck and wincing.
"I suppose . . . Rose Tyler," the brown-suited man said with a cheeky grin and luminous eyes, waving as he disappeared.
"He didn't even ask for your name, did he?" James said, shaking his head. "Suppose it doesn't matter. It isn't as though either of us will remember this." He sighed heavily, stepping up to Rose. "Love the new look," he said, running a finger along her chin before pulling away. "It was a fantastic life, Rose Tyler." He turned to Ignis, his eyes curious as he tilted his head. "Take care of her, and she'll give you a fantastic life too."
When he disappeared, Ignis breathed in slow and deep, that indefinable scent that he would sometimes catch on Rose rushing into his lungs before he let it out slowly.
"Are you all right?" she asked, looking up at him and placing a hand over his heart.
"It's certainly not what I expected, but it never is with you. You needn't worry. I'm not so delicate that I'm about to run screaming back into my own head," he said with a soft smile. "It's plain that they all loved you dearly. You can tell just by the way they say your name."
She hummed at him, standing up on her toes to give him a soft kiss on the cheek. "It's the same way you say my name, love."
"But what is the rest of the story? How did you end up with James and not the Time Lord? I assume the Time Lord's lifespan would be more appropriate to your own."
"We all thought I was human back then, so the Time Lord left us on a parallel Earth with my mum and a parallel version of my dad."
"But this man, the Doctor, the Time Lord, is still out there somewhere."
"Correct."
"He's the one you're searching for, isn't he? The one you've been jumping universes for."
She hesitated. "I started out jumping dimensions after the war with my people to look for him, yes. But it's been so long now. He wouldn't even recognize me anymore—my body or my personality. He may have regenerated again, or even died permanently. I'm not certain if you could say I was solely looking for him any longer."
"Seven thousand years is a very long time."
"That it is. He himself was only nine hundred there, or so he claims."
"He was a nine-hundred-year-old man who absconded with you at nineteen?"
She laughed. "You should talk! You do realize that you are a twenty-two-year-old man who has been abducted by a seven-thousand-year-old woman in a similar manner? And I've known you since you were nine years old."
"I suppose you have a point," he said, frowning.
"Would you like to stop for now? Because it's about to get weirder."
"Are we meeting your low-bonded partners now? Please, proceed. I said that I wanted to get to know you, and I meant it."
Honestly, you can cease coddling me. I knew I was jumping feet first into a mad adventure when I married you. You're only giving me what I wanted, he said, lowering his head to kiss her briefly before stepping back and gesturing for her to continue.
She nodded and walked up the ramp to the control panel, placing her hands reverently along the edge and stroking the controls gently with her fingertips. Ignis couldn't be certain, but he thought he heard the hum of the ship swell for a moment before settling into the background. A gold sparkling tendril of light snaked up her hands, wrapping around her arms and encircling her shoulders, and when she looked up, her eyes contained those streaks of gold he would sometimes see. He hadn't thought to use his extra senses in his place, and when he reached out to detect her aura, the power of the magic of Eos emanating from her and the TARDIS sent him staggering back down the ramp until he could close the sense again. That energy, and the presence along with it, felt real in a sense the others hadn't.
"She is real," Laura said quietly, caressing the gold. "She's really here in my head, not a memory. The Doctor, the very first one you met, was in trouble. She and I bonded, became the Bad Wolf, the Goddess of Time—able to see all of time and space and change it as we saw fit— to save him. That Doctor died taking the power from me, regenerating into the second one you saw, but she left this piece of her in me, too small to be noticeable until hundreds of years later. From her, I gained the traits of Time Lord and TARDIS alike, eventually. It's why my people considered me a freakish hybrid; I am part Lliamérian, Time Lady, and TARDIS."
"You know that hardly matters to me," he said, coming up behind her and placing a hand over hers. "What does 'having traits of Time Lord and TARDIS alike' entail?"
"A few traits my own people don't have: two hearts, respiratory bypass, healing coma, time sense, the ability to let go of corporeal form and time travel. I may not have the complete power of the Bad Wolf within me, but I am still able to call up her shadow should I need her, as you've seen."
"If you're part Time Lord, does that mean you'll regenerate when you die? As the Doctor did?" He'd already been given a taste of what it would be like for her to inhabit another body, and he believed he could grow used to it if necessary.
She paled at his query. "I don't know," she whispered, "I hope not. Gods, could you imagine my lifespan then? I've come very close many times, but I've never gotten the chance to find out."
As the gold retreated back into the console, he said, "I realize this may be a selfish notion, but given the level of danger we seem to keep running into, I'm somewhat relieved to hear that it is, at least, a possibility."
The look she gave him was unfathomable, but before he could reach out to comfort her, she closed her eyes and shook her head, melting the interior of the TARDIS away to reveal a small clearing surrounded by the tallest, largest trees Ignis had ever seen—some even larger and wider around than the Citadel towers. Ignis looked up to see the pale blue sky dotted with little white puffs of clouds, and as the breeze blew through his hair, he noted that the scent of pine was similar to Laura's.
"This is just outside Lliaméra. Are you ready to meet Eilendil? Remember," she warned, "He's not a memory either. He's very real, but he won't stay long. He never was terribly sociable, even when he was alive."
"I shall be on my very best behavior," he said with a smirk, but he couldn't help but notice that everyone she'd introduced him to thus far had been rather impolite in some fashion or another. Given her influences, it was a wonder she wasn't completely feral.
Her answering chuckle was drowned out by an incredible roar that shook the grassy soil beneath their feet, making him stumble back a couple paces before regaining his composure. He heard the deep, heavy percussions of what sounded like an enormous drum being pounded at regular intervals. It seemed to come from everywhere at once, and as he searched the clearing for the source, the ear-shattering sound only seemed to grow more overwhelming.
I should also mention that he's a terrible showoff—immortals and their dramatics, she said, rolling her eyes.
As the light from the sun was blotted out, Ignis looked up to see the source of the sound. To say that it was an enormous creature would be an understatement, as he believed he himself would only stand up to the first joint of its foreleg. He'd never seen its exact like on Eos, though he'd read descriptions of similar animals on his home planet. It appeared to be part reptile, part bird—the size of the zu they'd seen outside Galdin, but with glittering silver scales that caught the sunlight as it landed and refracted to cover the entire meadow with millions of prisms of light.
His species, he's called a dragon.
The dragon folded its massive leathery wings and lowered its spiked head to blink at them with a clicking eyelid and a monstrous silver eye. Ignis hadn't been afraid of any of the people he'd met thus far, and he wasn't truly afraid now, for he knew that Rose would never introduce him to a creature that would harm him. But he would be deceiving himself if he said he was completely unconcerned at the creature that could quite easily bite him in half or swallow him whole.
"Ignis Scientia," he managed politely, taking a step back from the rather dangerous-looking spiked crest that ran up the beast's neck and culminated in two rather magnificent horns on his head. He bowed in respect. "It's a pleasure to meet your acquaintance."
The dragon took a heavy step forward and sniffed at him, his hot breath sounding more like an oncoming storm than an inhalation, and Ignis had to fight the urge to summon his daggers.
"He'd like to speak with you. Would you mind a shallow connection? Like the one I made with Noct," Laura asked.
So the creature was not only intelligent, he also seemed to follow the same strict rules for communication with apaths as Laura. That, at least, was encouraging.
Ignis looked up at Eilendil. "Yes, you have my permission for a shallow connection any time you like."
He didn't feel a change inside his head to indicate Eilendil's presence as his deep, growling bass said, The Firebreather meets Fire. Well met, Ignis Scientia. I am Eilendil.
"It's custom for members of Lliamérian royalty and noble families to form a bond with a dragon as a symbol of the peace treaty between the two races we enacted many centuries ago. Together, the two form a team and keep the peace throughout the land, whatever that may entail," Laura said.
"If you don't mind my asking," Ignis said, looking to the dragon's eye still hovering at eye level to him, "where is your body now, if your mind is here?"
Dead. My mind lives on in my heart around Laurelín's neck, he said, his nose shifting minutely tothe blue crystal that she never took off. It is a way of life for my kind. Laurelín is my only view to the world outside after death.
"He's also a source of our native energy should I ever need it, but there's not much he can give."
This world is strange, it's life force an abomination to yours. And yet you stay, for them. Eilendil turned his head to Ignis, seeming to glare as he narrowed his eyes, and Ignis got the impression the dragon disapproved.
Eilendil blinked again and turned back to Laura. You are getting sloppy in your meditation, Laurelín. I clipped a wing against the edge of the canopy. You placed the trees too far apart.
"Oh," she said airily, "and I suppose it has nothing to do with the fact that you were never this large in real life? Like a father with a shotgun, you are."
You may be correct. Still, I hope you have not grown sloppy in matters of the real realm as well. He clicked an eyelid again in Ignis's direction before saying, Farewell, Ignis Scientia.
When Eilendil had faded, Laura turned to him with a tremulous smile. "And that was Eilendil. Are you ready for one more nice, normal, short adventure through time and space before we wake up, or would you like some time to recover first?"
He blew out a breath, chuckling and shaking his head. "Never in my life would I have thought any trip in time and space to be normal, but yes. Take us somewhere exotic, and perhaps we can finally find that pugilistic man named Moose you're so obsessed with."
Her answering smile was full of life as she leaned up to kiss him, and out of the corner of his eye, he could see colors swirling around them and coalescing into a bustling marketplace that seemed to stretch on forever to the horizon. He pulled back to see that each little stall was no more than a crude shelter of wood and cloth, but there were hundreds within the range of his view. The air was humid and warm, far warmer than Caem, and the air hung heavy with unfamiliar spices as the steady breeze carried the scent through the aisle.
He gazed down the row they were standing in to see hundreds of people walking, shopping, bartering, arguing, and carrying wares. But there wasn't a single human in sight; people with tentacles, long necks, skins of all colors and textures, many appendages, no appendages, and every other type of being he had never imagined waddled, walked, slithered, crawled, and danced their way through the aisles as they went about their daily lives. The foreign sounds of a thousand languages, all of which he'd never heard before and many of which he couldn't even reproduce with his own mouth, were nearly enough to distract him from the sight of so many unidentifiable spices, fruits, vegetables, meats, souvenirs, and Astrals only knew what else.
The row they were standing on ended with a beach, of sorts, except the sand was a deep purple and the water was a dark, shimmering turquoise. A blue-green sun was setting into the crashing waves, casting the lavender sky in an odd light.
"Well, the colors are certainly . . . something," he remarked as casually as he could manage, as though he'd been to a thousand garishly bright planets before.
She turned toward him and held out her hand. As he took it with a grin, a slow smile spread across her face. "Come on then. Let's explore."