A/N: This one stars out fluffy, but gets dark after the break. It ends positively though, so no worries.
Rough ages are as follows: Johan at 59, Clara at 40, Lena at 9, Astra/Tara at 7, Sterling at 3, and Maglina at 1
Chapter Twenty-One: A Gift of Ancient Gallifrey
One grey morning, in the early Spring, the Marquis woke up to find that his bed was significantly more occupied than it was when he went to sleep. Not only was his son curled up in the bedding, but his youngest daughter as well. The Marchioness had one child on either side, with Sterling being the one wedged between them, the two having come in the red of night.
"Good morning, my moon and stars," he murmured lovingly, leaning over to kiss his wife. Her eyes fluttered open and she glanced at him hazily, still somewhat asleep.
"Can you get the older girls ready for the day?" she requested. "I think I'm going to have a small lie-in with these two."
"Are you feeling alright?" He placed his hand on her forehead, only to get a chuckle out of her instead.
"Yes, I'm fine, just tired still—Maglina and Sterling both were fussy last night, is all."
"You should have woken me."
"It wasn't terrible—it'll be alright."
"As long as all is well," he nodded. After another kiss he slid out of bed and quickly dressed himself, making sure he wore thicker fabrics to compensate for the chilly wind beating on the windowpanes, and walked into the nursery to find his eldest three daughters still asleep. He drew open the drapes and clapped his hands loudly. "Time to get up! Rise and shine!"
A round of groans and moans was the reply he was met with. Lena rolled out of her bed and allowed herself to drop solidly to the floor before getting up, while Tara and Astra remained curled up under their covers, burrowing their heads under their pillows.
"Come on now," their father warned. He patted the two blanket-lumps and watched them barely wriggle. "Don't go all pudding-brained on me now."
"They have a headache, Papa," Lena said as she rummaged through her wardrobe. She took out a pink dress and laid it out over her rumpled bed, inspecting it carefully. "They could barely sleep last night, because of all the twin-things they have to share, it's being ill."
"Now that won't do," he said. The Marquis peeled back Astra's blanket and saw the tight ball his little girl was curled into, making his heart shatter. "Let's get you up and maybe the physician can do something about this…" He touched her bare arm and a scream filled his head, making him flinch back.
"Our heads hurt," Astra whimpered.
"Yeah… there's a bunch of noises," Tara added.
"…oh," the Marquis muttered. He knelt down between the twins' beds and placed a hand on each of them. "Now, get dressed please. I know how to handle this headache problem."
"You do…?" Tara asked.
"Of course; have some breakfast if you feel you can eat, but meet me in the study afterward."
The twins' tiny voices squeaked in agreement and the Marquis left the girls to their own devices. He went down to breakfast, where he was eventually joined by Lena and Sterling, with Maglina still in the nursery with the Marchioness. It was not until the Marquis went to the family's private study did he finally see his twins again, huddled together with cups of sweet tea likely brought by a maid.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, bending down to look in their eyes.
"Still terrible," Tara frowned. "Why can we hear all these funny voices?"
"Magic," he replied. He tried not to laugh as his daughters looked at him funny while putting down their cups. "We, being Gallifreyans, are able to use the ancient magic of our peoples. It manifests differently in different people, and you, my dears, are telepaths."
"Telepaths…?" Astra wondered. "You mean, those are people's thoughts?"
"Yes, of course. I am a telepath too, thought I rarely use the power. It's a very rude thing to invade people's innermost thoughts without their permission, so I mostly use it to figure out what you children needed when you were babies that could not speak."
Tara scrunched up her nose critically. "…but you could use that kind of power to make court trials shorter and more effective. You don't use it then?"
"Never," her father said sternly. "Your thoughts belong to you and no one else. You can allow people into your mind, you may accidentally slip into someone unguarded, but forcing one's way into another person's head like that is a criminal offense. There are laws against it, and even though they are old and rarely-known, they still exist and are very capable of harming you. The fewer people who know you have the ability, the better."
"How do we control the voices, though, Papa?" Astra asked. Her brow was furrowed as though she was bracing herself against a constant noise.
"Sit down here, starlet," he replied, patting the cushion next to him. Both girls sat down, crowding in so they were side by side. The Marquis gingerly placed his pointer fingers on Astra's temples, with his thumbs close to the center of her forehead, and closed his eyes. "Do you feel something nudging your head? A sort of presence?"
"Yes, Papa."
"That's me. Let me in and I will help you build a wall of defense."
"You can come in, Papa. I trust you."
The Marquis entered Astra's mind and shifted her mental fortifications into place, helping her block the unwanted voices in the castle. When that was done, he moved to Tara, and made the same adjustments. Soon the girls were sitting with a look of relief on their faces, very happy their minds were now quiet.
"How did you do that?" Tara asked, her brown eyes wide in curiosity and wonder. "I didn't think that the ancient magic existed anymore."
"Anyone can use magic if they wish, but you are correct that not everyone knows the secrets, let alone practices in public," he affirmed. "The magic is strongest with those descended from Ancient Gallifrey, meanng it's no surprise that the two of you inherited this gift. People with Gallifreyan blood outside our lands often think of these things as curses, but I can assure you they're not. Even Lady Martha and Oriana might have inherited magic from their Gallifreyan roots, but I've never asked since these days it's often a private matter."
"Can Lena or Sterling hear people's thoughts?" Tara frowned. "Why is it just us?"
"It's only the two of you because that's how things happened. Lena knows a couple simple spells, but if she's a telepath then it hasn't manifested—I didn't know about my ability until I was fourteen, nearly fifteen." The Marquis put a mental block up and thought inwardly about that day, holding hands with his betrothed and the sudden rush of emotion that ensued, only ceasing when they parted. "Chances are you both will be more powerful than me some day, since you can already sense without the need of touch and I can barely manage that."
"…but if we can't go into other people's minds, what can we do?" Astra implored.
"Read their emotions," he said. "Most people wear their emotions on their sleeve, so to speak, and if you can't read someone's face, chances are that their unspoken emotions will be open to you. It will help you one day in sensing the honest person from the false one, whether that be someone asking for Lena's help as Marchioness, or an enemy soldier giving information, or even a suitor that wants your hand in marriage." He sighed internally at the thought of giving up his daughters, that one day they will be less his stars and more someone else's moon. They were too young to have that as a concern, but it was always going to be too early for them in his eyes.
"Don't worry, Papa," Tara said. "We know we're always your stars."
"Even if we're another's moon, we started as your stars," Astra added. Their father stared at them, his eyes wide and lips parted in bafflement.
"Did you two just read my mind? I didn't even feel your presence…"
"We felt your emotions, like you told us we could," Astra said. "You were sorta shouting it with your mind, and we could hear it. What's it like when that happens? Is that still reading thoughts?"
"If someone is projecting like that, then it's fine and not your fault," he exhaled in resignation, now knowing he was going to have to be more careful. "You will not get in trouble for something like that; promise."
"Okay, but Papa…?"
"Yes Tara?"
"I'm hungry."
"Yeah, I am too, Papa!"
"Then let's get you down to the kitchens, since I'm sure the footmen took care of the breakfast dishes already, and see what Cook has leftover that will keep you until lunch," the Marquis decided. His daughters cheered and each took a hand to lead him out of the study. They were going to be fine.
A while later, though none knew quite how long, it was a free day for all the children and thus all five attended court. Their tutor was spending the day with his wife, newly returned from the front for only a short while, which necessitated more than just the young earlessa's chair to be set up on the dais. While the Doctors and Earlessa sat at the front of the dais, a great, long bench was procured for the younger children to be sat in the back by the tapestry-covered wall. Maglina was still young enough to be passed between the Marquis and Marchioness, meaning Sterling, Tara, and Astra were all gently commanded to stay where they were unless absolutely necessary.
"I'm bored," Sterling mumbled. He drew up his knees and tucked his dress over his feet, covering his shoes. "I want to sit with Mama and Papa and Lena."
"We have to stay here," Astra insisted quietly. Even though the topic of discussion was only some spat over farmland versus grazing land boundaries, it was not something that could be interrupted lightly. "Do you want me to read you The Legend of Lady Rudo and Emeka the Noble?"
"No…"
"The Many Tales of Genovefa the Bold?"
"No… I think I'm gonna sleep," the boy said. He drew his cape around him and cuddled into her side.
Astra had no choice but to put an arm around him before leaning over to Tara and whispering, "He picked this up from you."
"You're the one suggesting dumb things to read," she replied. Tara then winced, as though a sharp pain went through her head. "Ow… what's going on…?"
"I don't know—are you okay?"
"It hurts, right here," Tara said, lightly tapping her skull. Astra glanced over the crowd and felt a twinge in her head as well.
"I feel it too, but it's slight," she confirmed. She quickly grabbed her sister's hand and they closed their eyes, their minds melding to become one. They reached out over the crowd and gently brushed up against the court attendants. Some were quiet and guarded, some were broadcasting rude thoughts about either the complainants or another member of the audience, and some were off in their own train of thought, thinking things about other men and women that made the twins uncomfortable. Finally, partway through the room, was a man that seemed almost hollow. He had no emotion except for one…
…utter, unabashed, intense hatred.
'Do we go in?' Astra debated. 'I don't want to get in trouble…'
'Even when Papa got spitting-mad at that rude soldier from the Capital last week, he still didn't feel like this,' Tara reasoned. 'Let's do it.'
Together the twins dove into the man's consciousness, finding that there was no resistance whatsoever. When they played about, trying to build their mental defenses, there was at least a little bit of push, and there was even stuff to get around in Maglina's mind when they tried to figure out what she wanted, but this mind was focused so horrifically on his horrible mission that they easily slipped in and discovered what it was: he wanted to kill the Marquis and Marchioness and kidnap Lena to bring back to the Allfather Davros as a handmaiden.
"DALEK!" they screamed shrilly, eyes snapping open in terror. Sterling jerked awake and court came to a sudden halt, many of the attendants muttering in disapproval. The Marquis and Marchioness stood and stopped the girls from dashing into the crowd.
"What is the matter with the two of you?!" their mother hissed.
"There's a Dalek in the hall!" Astra panicked. "He wants to take Lena!"
"…and kill you! I can take him!" Tara growled, wiggling in an attempt to get free. Their parents glanced back at their eldest daughter, who seemed perfectly safe in her chair with their youngest in her arms.
"Girls, you are disrupting court," their father scolded. "There are no Daleki soldiers within our borders, and those that breech the front haven't seen the walls of Gallifrey since the Great Dalek War."
Finally Tara was too much to hold on to and she broke his grip on her. She bolted into the main of the room and ran towards the rear door, jumping on the back of a man who was about to leave. Court broke out into chaos as she began hitting the man on the head, shouting as many rude words in the ceremonial tongue as she could muster. Before a guard could pry her off, she hit the right spot and his eye shattered, a false eye on the end of a stalk edging out.
Panic truly set in then. Lesser lords and untitled complainants were rushed towards the exit wings, soldiers attempting to calmly herd them while their comrades aided Tara. One pulled the girl off the converted Dalek and two more restrained the enemy, while the remainder protected the Marchioness and her other children. The Marquis, however, stormed forwards and drew the sword from his belt. He'd only worn it for ceremony, though it was the one he used in battle, and it had seen more blood than the man would ever admit.
"How dare you defile my court with your presence," he sneered. He placed the blade against the Daleki's throat, silently threatening his life, as he brought his voice to a low snarl. "Did my daughters speak the truth?"
"I don't know how, bUt thEY DID," the Dalek replied. His voice began to warp as he spoke, acquiring the harsh tones heard beyond Kasterborous's eastern border. "DEATH TO GALLIFREY. DEATH TO THE DOCTORS. LONG LIVE THE ALLFATHER. GLORY TO THE DALEK EMPIRE."
"Question him," the Marquis ordered in the ceremonial tongue. Before the guards had a chance to move, the Dalek pressed his neck further onto the blade, pushing down to cut his own throat. Violet blood spattered all over the shocked Marquis, even as he backed away and dropped his sword. Within moments the enemy soldier was dead and the threat neutralized.
Wide-eyed, the Marquis turned his gaze towards Tara, who was still nearby in a guard's arms. His lips parted as the shock set in and he fully realized what had happened. The guard released Tara and she ran to him, Astra appearing not long after he knelt down.
"What did you do…?" he asked shakily, pressing them close to his chest. Blood was blood, and they'd seen it on cut fingers and scraped limbs; the color made it not nearly as terrifying.
"We felt his hatred, Papa," Astra explained. "He hated so much that we wanted to double-check. If it was someone angry at the people arguing, we would have apologized, but he wanted to kill you and Mama and take Lena to his master! We had to do something!"
"…and I'm glad you did," he choked. The Marquis held his daughters as his wife came over, observing as the guards that had been restraining the assassin were now searching his body.
"What does he have?" she asked, resting Maglina on her hip.
"A couple unlit smoke bombs, from the looks of things, as well as a sheathed knife, a bit of rope, and…" The guard pulled a small leather collar out of a cloak pocket, which she dropped in disgust. "Hopefully that was just for show."
"Burn the body and effects, diffuse the bombs, and we're keeping the knife," the Marchioness decided. "I want that thing on my desk by the time luncheon is finished."
"Yes, ma'am." The guards began the cleanup and the Marchioness bent down, gently touching her husband's shoulder.
"It's alright, Johan… come to me."
Wordlessly, he let go of their daughters and leaned far enough to rest his forehead on her shoulder, breaking into strained sobs as she stroked his curls. Lena came over, Sterling clutching her skirts, and took her baby sister from their mother so she could give their father her full attention. Calmly, the earlessa asked one of the spare guards to perform a search of the castle to make sure there were no more Daleki spies milling about, while requesting another accompany them up to the nursery. The Pink-Joneses were to be informed, and offered room in the family's private wing until the grounds were deemed safe again. When the Marchioness silently nodded in approval, the guards began to do their duty, escorting and setting up a perimeter.
That night, after dinner in the nursery, Tara was gifted with the Daleki-made knife that nearly did her parents in. She put it on the shelf high above her bed, far beyond where Sterling could reach, and swore to wear it when she was older as a reminder of what the gift her and her sister shared brought them. When all four parents were in bed, with Lena in hers and Sterling, Maglina, and Oriana piled together in a mound of pillows and stuffed animals, Astra slipped out from under her covers and joined Tara. The twins laid facing one another, hands joined, as they talked into the blood-red night.
Their gift was dangerous, but their gift was also used for good that day. No one could ever try to tell them they were cursed, for they were heroes, and that was not a curse at all.