Thanks for your suggestions! Some of them were really good, but I think I've decided to go with my original idea. However, I am still very willing and interested to hear more of your suggestions for how the Doctor finds out about Rose's secret, and what his reaction would be. And, I have a surprise, extra chapter planned that you may find interesting. Once I manage to get there, though, as I had planned for three chapters originally, and it looks to have grown to about five right now.
Cut through the heart, cold and clear!
Strike for love and strike for fear!
There's beauty and there's danger here
Split the ice apart!
Beware the frozen heart
- Frozen, "Frozen Heart"
Fear will be your greatest enemy.
This is written in her family book, one phrase that sticks in her mind (along with 'an act of true, unselfish love'). It is important to remember, even if it takes her some time to understand the meaning. When Rose is a child, she thinks it means other people's fear of her, of what she can do, and she has learned about the witch hunts in school. That is why they keep it secret.
As she grows older she realizes that this can mean herself. That her magic can escape her if she lets fear rule. That she can lose control, expose herself, hurt others.
She grows up and realizes that it means all these things and more. That it applies to more than just herself, more than just the people in her family who are born with ice in their veins.
It is not fear that wrecks havoc on her control, however, but succumbing to her insecurities and lack of self-worth. Jimmy left his mark, and though she herself resists the thought of having been traumatized, Rose suspects that her magic might have been. For weeks after being released from the hospital and her haze of numbness and drugs, she had not been able to leave the apartment for the frost that followed her, and the ice and snow that escaped her. Only when she had built herself back up to a semblance of normality and confidence with bravado and sheer stubbornness had she regained some measure of control.
In fact, since meeting the Doctor, Rose discovers that when she is afraid, when she is placed in a life-or-death situation, things become clearer. After the first burst of panic, she calms and begins to think, to act, and react. Her control over herself is solid, and extends to her effortless restraint of her magic. There is no threat that her magic will react without her consent, and she is relieved that keeping her secret will not become any more difficult than usual. Particularly since the Doctor is so observant, in addition to his genius and greater number of senses than humans will ever develop.
Honestly, even having only begun to travel through time and space, she is a little troubled at how often self-preservation takes a back seat to keeping her secret. The power of a lifetime of fear, or habit, she supposes, but it has protected her from any who might try to snatch and dissect her. And she hasn't died yet, after all.
In any case, there are few instances in which her ability would have given her a significant advantage, or defense. Rose's very first adventure, after all, would have pitted her ice against the sun. There is no competition there. And the metal of the sealed door would never have yielded either. Simple steel was difficult enough, the bare handful of times she tried when she was younger, and even iron, which would become brittle, requires a great deal of effort. But the metal of doors meant to withstand the vacuum of space, the unknown (to her) alloys of advanced civilizations. They do not have weaknesses that she can exploit (though over time, a thought flickers despite her efforts to lock it away, that the Doctor's screwdriver opens all doors but wood, and wood is no match for her ice).
When Rose returns home a year late, the guilt is like a blow to the stomach, and a creeping, living thing (she cannot blame the Doctor, not really, for his honest mistake, and there is nothing to be done to make it better). Because she knows exactly what her mother thought had happened, that her greatest fear seemed to have been realized (the government, the Institute, all over again, just like Rose's ancestor). She knows that her mother bullied the police with little real hope of ever seeing her daughter again, because the police are part of the government.
But still, Rose cannot stay. She has glimpsed the size of the universe, the wonders and the horrors, and she cannot return voluntarily to her cage. The only consolation she can offer her mother is that she will be far out of reach of any possible experimentation by the British government (and does not reveal just how dangerous life with the Doctor can be, although the Downing Street incident is certainly a good indication). Rose promises to phone and visit, and that is the best she can offer her mum and Mickey. She also promises her mum that she will be careful, that she has hidden her abilities all of her life, and she will not become lazy now.
It is both difficult and simple to hide part of herself from the Time Lord. He can be remarkably intelligent and observant, and yet spectacularly dense at times (the London Eye, for example).
He complains of the peroxide used to bleach her hair, strong to his sensitive nose, and takes her to the 32nd century, where swallowing a simple capsule will give her the color she desires for a month. She speaks with the pharmacist about a custom design while he wanders off, making a face and muttering about domestics. When she comes out, stocked up with two years worth of pills, and her hair blonde, but retaining its dark roots, eyebrows, and eyelashes, he raises an eyebrow but does not comment. He convinces himself that he is not curious about why she would keep what seems to be a somewhat sloppy dye job, and is instead grateful that harsh chemicals do not interfere with her natural scent.
For her part, Rose is pleased. While she has become accustomed over the years to religiously keeping her nearly white hair from peeking through the hair dyes, and carefully coloring her eyebrows, it is a considerable relief not to worry about it while travelling, never mind the potential damage to her hair years of peroxide use can cause. She keeps the seemingly dark roots, and still cakes on the mascara because she feels safer with the disguise. She prefers to be thought of as a natural brunette, as far from her natural color as possible.
The TARDIS helps as well. It takes time for Rose to understand just how alive and aware the ship is. She panics when the Doctor first tells her how the TARDIS can get into her head; it is not just the violation of someone or something able to root around in her mind and change it, it is also that she is an extremely private person. She has a secret she has hidden her entire life, and the thought that someone can simply plucking it out of her head is terrifying.
Later, after Platform One, she asks the Doctor about telepathy, and after his explanation he shows her how the books in the library are organized, as well as how to use the TARDIS database to look up information. She is relieved that telepathy powerful enough to break through the natural shields she would have built up subconsciously to hide her secret is extremely rare. Over time, he helps her to set up some simple mental shields, and she is content for the most part with that protection.
Over time, as Rose studies the Doctor's interaction with his ship, as well as the TARDIS's interaction with her, she begins to understand her feelings and personality, becoming aware of her true complexity. Rose learns how to open her mind enough to send feelings and images to the TARDIS, and learns the meanings in the changes and pitch of the ship's humming. They bond, Rose feels. All girls together.
There is no place within the ship that the TARDIS is unaware of, and likely she has seen Rose's unusual abilities within her mind, so Rose eventually becomes comfortable enough to do little magic tricks within the safety of her room once again. She keeps Rose's secret from her pilot, and once even flashes her lights in warning before the Doctor bursts unceremoniously into her room, excited and almost manic at their current destination.
Until meeting the Doctor, Rose has never considered that she might descend from aliens. The generally accepted belief is that they came from another Earth, a parallel universe. For a time after he appears in her life, she wonders if her family comes from the stars instead.
She waits with bated breath, as the Doctor gives her a full medical checkup, as well as a few injections once she agrees to travel with him. But, to her relief, he finds nothing strange or unusual. The hospitals she visits never have, but his equipment is so much more advanced that she worries a little.
So perhaps this means that her family's original assumption is correct. But that does not mean that there is not a people somewhere with abilities like hers. She must do research, but carefully. If she seems to be after specific information, specific answers, the Doctor will connect the dots easily, although what he might conclude Rose cannot guess.
She progresses slowly. They do not have a lot of down time, eager as always to find adventure. Even then, when she is not sleeping, Rose prefers to keep the Doctor company, comfortable with both conversation and silence. They complement each other well, and she does not think that anyone in her life has ever understood her the way he does.
And it is not as though she has a lot to go on. The most specific place-name she knows is Arendelle, and she cannot say whether that is a city, province, kingdom, or country, and what she does find in the TARDIS database does not match what is described in her family book. So, sometimes she asks about alien species that resemble (perhaps inspire?) creatures of fantasy – witches, for example, and trolls, among others. Rose does not have to feign an interest in the genre, and listens avidly as the Doctor lectures her on whatever comes to mind in response to her questions, devouring alien fairytales that he points out to her. Some of the stories soothe a part of her she did not realize remained braced for ridicule and rejection because while the winter witches of Earth are almost never good (the Snow Queen, and the White Witch, and yuki-onna), elsewhere in the universe they protect and defend.
Over time, after a number of false leads, Rose lets the matter drop. There are humanoid species that thrive in the cold, and a number of machines that can create winter weather on small and large scales, and even one species that can manipulate ice and snow in ways similar to her, so long as it is already present. But there is no account that she can find of anyone with abilities like hers. So she labels it magic, accepts that she is alone in it, and pushes the thoughts away, the same way she buries her magic within herself (her father tells her the stories first-hand while the world ends around them, imparts details that her mother has long forgotten, but while much of it is new, little is particularly helpful).
Rose runs and rests, laughs and cries, and above all, loves. She learns so much about the universe, about the Doctor, and even (perhaps especially) about herself.
Sometimes (rarely), the urge to let loose, to challenge herself as she had a handful of times in childhood, comes upon her. Sometimes, she just wants to play. To relax and let go, and not worry about her abilities, because they are wonderful (magical, fairytale).
Woman Wept is one of her very favorites, an absolutely gorgeous ice planet frozen in an instant. The Doctor takes her hand and shows her the wonders, supports her as she walks upon the waves. She grips his arm as he holds her close in an effort to combat the cold (never knowing that she is not as cold as she appears), and Rose turns her head into his leather jacket and for an instant allows herself to feel the burning (terrifying) overwhelming love she has for this alien (she has never been so frightened because, as she learned with Jimmy, when she loves she holds nothing of herself back, and why would the Time Lord ever love a dim, worthless dropout, a stupid ape like her?).
However, it is the winter festival of Yulaaniruv IV where the insistent urge to do something (reckless and fun) overcomes her better judgment. She, the Doctor, and Jack had spent the better part of the evening wandering the stalls, speaking with the people, and even ice skating. And then the Doctor, grinning manically, had shown her the field of ice sculptures. Her hands twitch, her soul itches with the need to create as she, with breathless awe, examines the works of art. It wouldn't be fair to enter the competition, and she could hardly afford the questions or possible witnesses should anyone see what she would sculpt, or how.
But Rose needs to do something. This is her element, and just once, she wants others to see that her abilities can be beautiful.
The Doctor agrees to stay until the next day, when the winner of the contest is announced. The TARDIS helps Rose to sneak away unnoticed in the dead of the night, and she finds her way back to a corner of the sculpture field, making very certain that no one is nearby and that the area is relatively hidden (the Doctor and Jack had told her enough about the society to know that recorded surveillance is beyond their current technological level, or she would never risk this). She bites her lip, almost bouncing with giddy excitement as adrenaline rushes through her body. She takes a deep breath, pictures what she wants the results to be…and begins.
A stomp of her foot, and a smooth sheet of ice spreads equidistance around her. Raising her hands, walls grow in fractal patterns from the edges, as the base rises several centimeters above the snow. One large rectangular hole serves as a door, while she allows the walls to grow organically around whatever fractal shapes would serve as windows (she has found that it is best to have a picture of the results she wants in mind, but to allow her magic to fill in the details as it wishes). One hand drops as Rose concentrates on one side of the building, and then the other as the roof comes together in points. Then she flings both hands out and spins, barely keeping a laugh of sheer delight from escaping her lips as a walkway extends from the walls about halfway up, and grows a banister for safety. And finally, with a twist of her wrist, and a furrow of concentration, stairs of ice circle the walls from the ground floor to the ledge.
Ducking a bit to get through the doorway, Rose turns and takes in her creation, bathed in moonlight. Carved anonymously and well past the contest deadline, but she did not do it for recognition or attention.
It is a palace of ice, the perfect size for the children of this planet to play in.
A thought strikes her, and she coats the floor with a blanket of snow before leaving. An ice floor is probably a bit too slick and hard for playing.
Rose half expects either the Doctor or Jack to be waiting up for her, suspicious and curious at her absence, but she makes her way to her bed without anyone the wiser to her little escapade.
Of course, the next day they are running for their lives from some monstrous, six-legged alien, and attempting to draw the creature away from the crowds at the festival grounds. She is a little disappointed that they never make it back to the ice sculpture field, but she hopes that the children enjoyed their miniature palace.
The next time she uses her magic on an adventure, she must force herself to overcome mental blocks and do what needs to be done (because what else can she do when Jack and the Doctor are about to die and she can help?). She and Jack need to destroy a control node on a spaceship to kick start the backup controls, or else it is going to violently impact with a nearby planet. The Doctor is on the other end of the ship desperately attempting to get the life support running before the remaining crew and passengers run out of air. The node's delicate internal parts are protected by a nigh-indestructible metal, locked with deadlock seals, and they have about a two minutes before they enter the planet's atmosphere.
Jack swears under his breath because he left his sonic blaster behind, and kicking the thing only causes immense pain. He shouts at her to see if she can find something to pry it open with, while he runs off to where he remembers seeing the mechanics closet nearby.
Rose wastes time looking around the room frantically as she tries to find another option. But there is nothing for it, and she leaps for the node, slapping a hand down on top of its metal surface and forcing a truly great amount of frost and ice beneath to its vulnerable innards. She hears the cracking as (what she assumes are) gears attempt to resist, to continue their function. And then she screams and stumbles back as the node itself explodes, shrapnel and fire marking her hands and arms.
Jack comes racing back with an axe in hand, which he drops immediately when he sees her. His curiosity regarding how she'd done it takes a back seat to his concern at her injuries, and by the time they return to the TARDIS, exhausted, heart-sore, and triumphant, he forgets to ask.
Despite the heartache and danger, Rose loves this life, loves Jack, and (she can at last admit to herself) she is deeply in love with the Doctor. Once, she even considers allowing the Doctor to know her secret. She does not think that she can bring herself to say it outright, having never in her life told another soul, but she wonders if she could, perhaps, simply show him. Allow him to witness her magic, and call it a confession. She thinks she could answer his questions. She feels protected in his presence, and perhaps that would be enough to overcome a lifetime of conditioned fear and allow her to speak of her one great secret.
But the fear still seizes her, and she flinches away from this thought.
And then Bad Wolf happens, and everything changes. Jack is gone, and the Doctor is (isn't?) gone (who is this young, skinny man?), and her already battered heart threatens to shatter completely (why had he left her, why hadn't he told her?).
In the week that follows (they leave after New Year's Day), Rose and the Doctor tentatively orbit the other, searching for their former camaraderie. By the time they New Earth and Cassandra occur (and she has never been so grateful for the natural shields that bury her secret beyond the 'last human's' reach), Rose is comfortable with him once again. It is ridiculous, really (and still terrifying), that it takes so little time to fall in love with this new new Doctor. But she sees him, now, who he is at the core of him, independent of appearances and quirks.
She knows some of his past, too, continues her attempts to get him to open up to her, because she wants to know him and she thinks that speaking of it will help him. She does not pry too hard, because she does not wish to hurt him, nor to be hypocritical. After all, she has not told him everything either (he tells her that she became Bad Wolf, glowing golden and burning like the sun, and she finds it best that others associate her with heat and summer, although the aurora borealis equivalents on other planets often glow gold, and frost is known to burn).
Rose thinks she knows him now.
And then they meet Sarah Jane Smith.
The shock is not that he has had companions before her, not really. After all, his past self had hinted at the fact that he had travelled with others. She is not so naïve as to believe she has been the first in over 900 years, although admittedly she had not given it much thought. No, it is the way in which the Doctor had left Sarah Jane, had cared so much and yet never spoke of her.
Rose hates to admit her jealousy, too, of the way he abandons her to sit with the older woman, compounded by the barbs she cannot help but retaliate against. Mickey does not help, and when they spend the night at Sarah Jane's, away from the threat that inhabits the school, it takes more willpower than she thinks it should to refrain from loosing a killing frost in her garden (because insecurities disrupt her control). She hates to admit that she can be petty, but she is never petty with her magic.
She likes Sarah Jane, when all is said and done, but her confidence in her relationship with the Doctor (and her confidence in herself) is shaken.
Their next adventure, with Mickey and Madame de Pompadour, is a heartbreaking blow. She understands why he must go through the mirrors (all of history is at stake, and she would never put her own life above the good of the universe), but they are a team and should have gone together. Or he could have flown the TARDIS through the window, or programmed her to meet him after he stops the clockwork men. And those are just the ideas that spring to mind immediately; with his far greater genius, surely he could have thought of something?
But he crows with pride and delight at snogging Madame de Pompadour, allows her into his mind, dances with her while she and Mickey are captured by the clockwork men (her greatest nightmare come to life, strapped to a dissection table, but she scrambles desperately for her magic as the saw closes in on Mickey, and at least she knows that ice will stop them if only she could get past her terror and make it work), and invites her along without question or warning (and Rose feels ashamed at that thought, because it is the Doctor's ship and his decision, not hers).
Rose spends those five and a half hours in a state of numbness, but even that is completely lost when he practically ignores her and returns immediately for the most accomplished woman in Earth history. She holds on – barely – to her control when he comes back from his last visit appearing heartbroken. But then she asks if he is alright, and when he says that he is "always alright" (shutting her out), the numbness is gone.
Rose spirals into feelings of inferiority, every one of her insecurities rearing its ugly head, and she tenses every muscle as if physical restraint will hold back her magic. She hugs herself tightly, hiding her hands because she can feel the frost seeping into whatever her hands rest against. She cannot stay, cannot coax any sort of honest response from the Doctor, because she is losing control.
"I'm gonna get some rest. See you later, yeah?" she says, concentrating on breathing evenly, speaking evenly.
The Doctor does not respond (another crack to her heart and her control), but Mickey meets her eyes and nods. "Sure babe." He remembers how she had sequestered herself away after Jimmy, how there were days when her confidence (bravado) faltered and she had rushed home and away from other people.
The corridors shift, hiding her almost immediately from the console room, and the TARDIS puts an unfamiliar door in her path. It is a place for her to let loose, Rose understands. She understands the ship so much better since Bad Wolf.
"I won't hurt you?" she whispers, one hand already on the doorknob, which immediately grows white with frost.
The TARDIS's presence in her mind is reassuring and somewhat amused at the thought that this small, flesh and blood being who could perceive in only three dimensions would be able to generate enough ice and snow to seriously harm her.
Rose's mouth twitches as she attempts, and fails, to produce a smile. "Right." She clenches her hand around the doorknob and turns it, entering a large, cavernous room, with a small fountain at the far end, and water trickling down on wall. Her hands open and close as she makes her way to the center of the room, the door disappearing from the wall behind her.
"Don't let him find me," she says.
The lights flicker in acknowledgement, a wave of warmth and love washing over her.
Something in her chest snaps, and she bows under the pain of her emotions. A blizzard explodes from her, whipping her clothes around her, and snapping her hair against her face. The floor and walls are immediately coated in sheets of ice, mounds of snow piled at least a meter deep in places, snowflakes and bits of ice flying through the air.
Rose barely notices. She is nothing. She will never amount to anything, and what is she playing at, believing that she could do something, be better, make a difference? Why did she believe him when he said that he would never leave her behind, that she was different? She's stupid, always has been, just a stupid ape, stupid child, worthless girl. Good for a fuck, maybe, but not even that satisfying, or Jimmy wouldn't have had to find those other girls, and it's not my fault Rose, maybe lay off the junk food and try a little harder next time, yeah? Put your mouth to better use. And stop being so clumsy while you're at it, God, what are you, stupid or something?
And then the rage breaks over her for a moment, because the Doctor isn't supposed to be like that, is supposed to be better than that. She swipes her arms viciously through the air, and painful, vicious spikes of ice leap into existence.
But the anger is difficult to hold onto, returning only in short spurts, any semblance of self-confidence or self-worth gone so quickly.
She loses track of time. When the TARDIS warns her of the Doctor's approach, she is laying on her back, spread-eagled in the snow with her short-sleeved T-shirt and jeans. Rose is lethargic, completely spent, and control over her magic has been reasserted.
She was a fool to think that he might love her in return.
She stares blankly at the sharp points and flat edges of the icicles that hang from the ceiling like stalactites. Love melts her snow; before, on those few occasions she had been warned of his coming interruption, she had simply thought of the Doctor and been rid of the evidence before he caught her. That will not work this time.
But the ship is a place of wonders, and not even the Doctor knows every room. "Let him find me," Rose murmurs at last.
A few minutes later she hears the door open, but does not bother to move.
"There you are" he says. "Been wondering where you'd gotten to. Blimey. I've never seen this room before. Be good for a snowball fight, it would, maybe even sledding or, oohh, snowcastles! Like sandcastles, only bigger and better. Where've you been hiding it, Old Girl? Rose, you must be freezing! Come on, fragile human bodies should be far more covered if they're going to go traipsing through this sort of arctic tundra."
He extends a hand, and shifts nervously when she does not immediately reach for him. At last, Rose allows him to pull her to her feet and over to the door, helpfully brushing snow from her back.
"Here we go," he says once they are out in the corridor. "Nice and warm, much better for humans in thin and short-sleeved clothing." He beams, but his smile falters and his hearts clench. Because Rose's answering smile is small and false, and her eyes are guarded, shuttered where before they had been open and honest and held nothing back.
"Rose." The Doctor reaches for her, knowing that he has badly messed up, but having no idea how to fix things. A part of his mind desperately justifies his actions to himself, but it hardly helps.
"You're right," Rose says, and there is false happiness in her voice as she keeps her distance. "I'd best go take a hot shower before I catch a cold or something. I'll see you later."
The Doctor's hand is still partly extended to her. He watches her go, mouth partly opened, but no idea what to say or how to make it better. He broke something, he knows it, and already he wants it back desperately. Misses her (is terrified that he has lost her, that he has pushed her away too far, beyond what he meant to do).
Rose does not turn around.
