A/N: Hot dang, it's been a while since I updated this fic. The news about Jenna spreading and making everyone feel down made me wanna post something fluffy, so here's something fluffy.

Rough ages are as follows: Johan at 69, Clara at 50, Lena at 19, Astra and Tara at 17, Sterling at 13, Maglina at 11, and Seren at 6.

Chapter Sixteen: The Common Anniversary

"Alright, now listen to Lena and Astra while we're gone," the Marchioness gently ordered, leaning down to kiss Seren on the forehead. All the family was gathered in the stables, before the dawn, with the parents dressed in common clothes and the children crowded around to wish them goodbye. The youngest of them pouted grumpily, furrowing the thick brows he inherited from his father.

"…but I want to go too!" he whined sleepily. "Mama, you're not going to the front, so why can't I go with you?"

"…because sometimes even mamas and papas need some time alone with no children around, as much as they may love them," the Marquis explained. He ruffled his youngest son's hair and gave him a smile. "You're the one who has to make sure the older ones behave, you know that, right?"

"Okay, Papa! You can count on me!" Seren said. He grit his face in determination, not about to let his father down. His older siblings all hid their laughter—any sort of ploy to get their brother to behave.

"Are you sure you'll be fine if we leave you in charge?" the Marquis asked Lena quietly. "You know it's not that I don't trust you, but you know how I worry…"

"We'll be fine, Papa," Lena smirked. She kissed his cheek and pushed him closer towards the saddled horse that awaited him. "If Astra and I can't handle a week without the two of you, then we might as well start scrubbing the floors alongside the maids. Go on."

"She's right, Johan. Let's go," the Marchioness chuckled. She had her husband help her up onto the saddle—a double-seater so she could ride the large draft horse side-saddle in the back while he rode astride and tend to the reins—and grabbed hold of his midsection once he was on the horse himself. "See you kids in a week!"

"Bye Mama! Bye Papa!" came the chorus of children as the Marquis urged the horse forward and they left the stables. Before long the Marquis and Marchioness were riding through the waking Gallifreyan streets. The city was quiet and peaceful, the sort of serenity that came with a content people and an understanding pair of rulers.

As the sun peeked over the wooded horizon, the couple had going through the main gate to the city and were on the road westward. They rode on throughout the day, passing through tiny towns and taking breaks along babbling streams. Dinner was much the same as lunch, bread and cheese and wine from a skin, and they slept cuddling under the stars. The next morning involved a lie-in and another humble meal, ending as they prepared to head back on the road again.

"This is so nice," the Marchioness said as she rested against her husband's back. She had spent the entire time riding clung to him, holding herself steady over the worn, uneven path. "No children, no entourage, no work… just us."

"It will be one of our better anniversaries, I should believe," the Marquis chuckled. He scratched at his goatee in thought as they went along. "Remind me when we get home to put this road higher on the list of the ones that need to be gone over by the workmen."

"No being a lord, Johan, you promised," she huffed. "We're going to be just a normal, average married couple passing through, seeing the countryside, a part of the kingdom we haven't been through in years and acting no one's liege lord or lady. Stress-free, remember?"

"Yes, dearest, I do remember," he replied, touching one hand to the pair clasped in front of his stomach. "Seeing the countryside without having a schedule to keep is going to be relaxing, that's for certain."

Continuing on, the Marquis and Marchioness came to rest in a village nestled in the rolling hills, surrounded by sheep and wheat and plenty of wide-open spaces. It was midday when they stopped, meaning the entire community was bustling with the day's routine.

"Let's have lunch here," the Marquis suggested as he helped his wife down from the horse. "The local ale is supposed to be extraordinary from what I remember Grandpapa telling me."

"That sounds like a plan," she agreed. After tying up their horse near a trough, they entered the local pub and ordered their food and drinks. They chatted about regular things—the scenery, how they felt the children were coming along in their education, everything they wanted to see—whilst holding hands and giving one another suggestive looks across the table. When their food finally came, the waitress chuckled at them as she put the plates down before them.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say the two of you were eloping," she smirked. The Marquis blushed furiously into his drink, but the Marchioness joined in on the laughter.

"We're both a little grey for something as exciting as eloping, wouldn't you agree Johan?"

"For you, my dear, I'd elope every week like clockwork," he admitted. "Though, I think the children would be sick of us after a month and go to live with your father."

"Them's kids for you," the waitress said. She left them alone, only for the Marquis to lean forward and lower his voice.

"Please don't call me 'Johan' while we're out," he requested. "We're supposed to be incognito, not announcing to everyone we're coming through."

"We'll be fine," she sighed. "There are plenty of men named Johan in Kasterborous in imitation of the Doctors, and chances are at least a couple would be celebrating a wedding around this time… weddings that had been planned for much longer than ours was."

"Still, we need to be careful—you and I both love the people, but sometimes that love goes unrequited and you fully know that." He took a bite of his lunch and grinned happily, his mood changed. "Now this is some hearty food. We eat this and we won't need to stop for another two days."

"That's because it's meant for farmers, not city-dwellers," the Marchioness laughed behind her hand. Her laughter changed to surprise, however, when the waitress returned with two individually-sized fruit pies, setting them down on the table. "Oh! I'm sorry, but we didn't order these…"

"It's on the house," the waitress said. "Getting away from the kids is a grand occasion in of itself; congratulations Johan and…?"

The Marchioness went blank for a split second, formulating a cover story almost immediately with the first name that came to her mind. "Melody."

"Aw, now isn't that sweet," the waitress exhaled dreamily. "Like our poor marquis and his first wife… though I guess you get that a lot."

"Loads, but I don't mind. We were a bit hesitant about a relationship at first because of it, but now we're glad we never let what happened in the past dictate how we handle ourselves today."

"Well, good on the two of you—a happy marriage with children and a sustained spark is hard to come by. I'm glad at least one Johan and Melody were able to make do." Another patron then called her over and she excused herself.

"'Melody'…?!" the Marquis growled, trying not to sound like he was going insane. "What possessed you to go with Melody?!"

"I don't know why, but it was the first name I could think of that wasn't one of the children's," she hissed back. "It's your fault for insisting on being secretive about this and making me panic!"

"…and I wasn't the one who caused the need for an alias by using a given name in the first place," he reminded her. The Marchioness pouted as her husband returned to his food, giving her a look that said he knew that they both knew he was the one who was right.

They both let the matter go for the time being and continued eating, finishing every last bite including the pies, before a roll of thunder made them both pause and look at one another with worry. A moment later and the sky opened up, rain coming down in torrents. The Marquis rushed outside and brought in their saddlebags, making it so that their things were only slightly wet.

"The sky was perfectly clear when we came inside for lunch—I don't understand," he huffed, trying to catch his breath. "What happened?"

"That's just a storm off of the ocean," one of the locals explained. He chuckled at the Marquis's boggled face and elaborated with, "Sometimes storms make landfall off the sea that are so powerful, they go and barrel right through the costal lands and don't slow down until they reach us."

"I've lived in Kasterborous all my life; I know about the odd sea storms," the Marquis replied. "I didn't think this was the season for them."

"You're right, it's not, but sometimes the odd sea storm makes landfall at odd times. It should clear up by late tonight, so if you're going anywhere in particular it won't be that bad a delay.

"We're not in a hurry by any means, but thank you." The Marquis went back to the booth where his wife was and sank into his side. "It won't stop until after nightfall."

"I guess we're staying the night, then," the Marchioness sighed. She caught the waitress's attention, bringing her over. "Do you have any rooms upstairs to let?"

"We do, but the beds are a bit small…"

"That's fine; we'll take one," she said.

"Then you can have number twelve, when you're ready. The key's inside the room and I'll have one of the lads bring your horse to the stables."

"Thanks." She then turned to her husband and gave him a kind look. "Since there's not much to do, why don't we go have a lie-down? It'll be good to have a bed after a day and a half on the road."

"I don't know what I'd do without you," the Marquis said. They went up the stairs and found their room. It was sparse, with a small table, chair, and nightstand joining the bed. A mirror hung on the wall and the window was open, letting in the cool breeze from outside. Rain hit the metal eaves, making a sharp pitter-patter sound, and the tree just outside rustled gently. Once the saddlebags were placed on the table, the Marquis immediately laid in the bed, curling up so that he could fit the short mattress better. The Marchioness set herself so she contoured along his back, holding her husband as the rain lulled them close to sleep.

"The staff is nice, the bed is soft, the bugs are minimal, and the food was good; I'd say this is the least awful a detour could go," she muttered into his hair. "If this place had more to do, then I'd say we should just stay here until we need to go back home."

Rolling over, the Marquis tucked his head beneath his wife's chin and nuzzled her shoulder with his whiskers. "Promise me you won't do that again?"

"Won't do what again?"

"Use her name as your own. I put her death behind me a long time ago, so talking about her isn't an issue, but claiming to be her…"

"I didn't claim to be anyone," she retorted. "All I did was use her name, and that was because I was thinking on the spot. I'm sorry, but it just happened."

"Please don't pretend you're her," he murmured, wrapping his arms around the Marchioness tightly. "The past twenty-five years of my life have belonged to you, even before either of us knew what was happening. They have been yours and no one else's."

"…and there are few honors greater in this world than being your wife," she replied, stroking his back.

"Oh?" He grinned against her skin, knowing he caught her. "There are greater honors?"

"Of course," she giggled. "Being your Doctor, for starters; mothering each and every one of our children, for another…"

"Okay, okay, I get your point," he chuckled. He pressed a kiss to her breast, right above her heart, and hummed contently. "The moon in my sky, lovely as she begins to put silver in her hair to match my own, the mother of my stars and ultimate source of the light in my night, I am yours because of you, first and foremost. I would have long ago been killed in recklessness on the border if it weren't for the thought of losing precious time with you."

"Hush now," she whispered. "There will be plenty of time for reminiscing on how foolish we've been when there are grandchildren on our laps and the governance chair is Lena's domain." She placed her nose in his hair and sighed happily, drifting closer to sleep. "That time is not that far off anymore, you know that, right?"

"I do, and I look forward to it with each passing day." He paused in thought before groaning into his wife's chest. "Can't we just skip straight to grandstarlets?"

The Marchioness laughed at that. "What do you mean 'skip straight to grandstarlets'? We need to have at least one wedding before that happens, likely Lena's, and before that there needs to be at least a courtship, since she doesn't seem like the sort to have a political marriage…"

"Precisely; I don't want my hair to turn white just yet," he mumbled, already half asleep. He wrapped his legs around her own and pulled her in close. His Doctor, his Marchioness, his savior... his wife.