"Greetings, friends, and welcome! It has been a good while since we last had visitors. I am Duleian, the leader for this cycle. May I ask your names?" The stout man had arrived at their bench, and as Rose and the Doctor stood, she noticed that Duleian was eye-to-eye with the Doctor – though probably a good five or six stones heavier. The village head had an unruly mane of silvering brown hair and gentle brown eyes, and Rose thought he wore his homespun trousers and shirt with every bit as much dignity as the Prime Minister would have done in a natty suit. He wore a small, oddly luminescent green stone in a chain setting around his neck, which Rose supposed was a mark of office, but otherwise his attire appeared no different than that of the young man next to him.
The Doctor turned on his not-inconsiderable charm. "Hello, sir! I'm the Doctor, and this is Rose, and we've been so looking forward to coming here. We're from a good way away; might you have any accommodations available?" Rose figured she ought to cheese it up a bit too, as she really didn't fancy spending the night stretched out in the dank cool under an oversized palmetto, and mustered up her best beaming smile.
"Of course! Newcomers are a very welcome diversion for us. We would be honored to have you." A happy smile creased Duleian's ruddy face. "You must have been walking all day, and night is near upon us. I will see to it. Our guesthouse is not being used, so you shall have it to yourselves; Ellaran, would you run and ask Nianna to have it readied?" – here the young man nodded and dashed off – "I wish that more were out to greet you, but this is our evening mealtime. Would you like to have a meal with one of our families, or would you prefer to eat alone tonight and rest yourselves?"
The Doctor would have loved to dive right in, but one glance down at Rose's drawn face and heavy eyes convinced him that chatting could wait. "Er, as much as we'd love to get to know your people, I'm afraid that the walk here has rather worn us out. Would we offend if we waited until tomorrow to mingle?" He could feel Rose slump slightly in relief next to him, though her bright smile never faltered.
"Oh, my, no. We will all be pleased to talk to you whenever we can! I will have a meal sent to the guesthouse very soon; let us head that way. I imagine that Nianna has already gotten everything opened up and laid out; she is more excited about visitors than any person I have ever known!" He chuckled and began to lead the way past the stage and into a narrow but tidy lane.
The village was largely deserted as dark fell, though here and there the Doctor and Rose spotted similarly-dressed people ducking out of backlit doorways to settle animals or take in hanging linens for the night. The clay-tiled buildings seemed clean and sound, and the lanes, courtyards, and open areas were similarly well-kept. From behind them, the creaking sound of timbers and the low tones of men's voices indicated that the heavy gate through which they'd entered was being closed.
"Duleian, is your wall to keep out animals?" Rose asked, figuring she'd sleep better knowing the answer…after all, she'd take roaming animals over marauding psychos any day.
"Yes, but we have not had any trouble in several generations. We keep the walls and gate in good order, though we only close the gates at full dark, and even that is being very cautious. The larger animals very rarely leave the lowlands. But better to be safe than sorry, as every village head gets told many times before he takes over from the last. Besides, it saves us from having to post watch at night – those young men would dump me down a well for taking them from their hearths and mates and warm beds!"
Rounding a final corner by a silo-looking structure, the lane ended at a narrower path which led up to a small stone building. "Ah, here we are, and I see that my wife has indeed beat us to it!" As they approached, they could see flickering firelight through the slats of the window shutters.
Stepping onto the small porch, Duleian turned to them. "Please make yourselves comfortable. This is your dwelling for as long as you stay; no one will intrude on you, and there is a bar on the door. The east well is just on the other side of the storehouse there, and the jakes is behind the cottage. You should find what you might need, but should you want for something, ask anyone and they will either get it for you or find Nianna or myself. Now I will go and have a meal sent up, likewise in the morning. Pleasant dreams! I look forward to talking with you tomorrow." Duleian bowed slightly, kindly waved off their effusive thanks, and set off back up the path, turning onto the lane towards the village center.
"Well, let's check out the hotel. Better be a mint on my pillow." Rose was so tired that she really didn't care – she'd gladly kip on a clean floor – but curiosity was not to be denied, so she looked at the Doctor, who rotated the lever handle and ushered Rose into the guesthouse with a theatrically outstretched arm, then followed her in.
They were standing in a cozy stone cottage next to an intricately carved coatstand of dark, gnarled wood. A window on each wall was covered by solid wooden shutters, and the clean-swept wood floor was strewn with braided rugs. Around the room, several candles in wood holders flickered. Directly across the room from the door, a wide stone hearth surrounded the merrily crackling fireplace and held a sizable pile of wood. In one corner of the cottage were a low, double-sized bed with several blankets folded at the foot, and a rough but sturdy-looking chest of drawers. In another corner was a small table, topped by a bouquet of flowers in a clay vase and flanked by two straight-backed chairs.
In a third corner, a washstand was topped with a beautifully painted clay basin. Next to it a towel rack held four faded blue towels and some smaller cloths, and on the other side of it a narrow table held a full pitcher of water, a bar of what looked like soap, and several stoppered clay bottles. A narrow, unlatched door led to another, smaller room containing a warm-spring-fed pool. Roughly the size of a hot tub, it was sunken into the stone floor and carved out of the stone. Gentle wisps of steam rose from the surface in the crisp night air, and an occasional ripple and bubble meandered to the surface as the water moved rather briskly off to the side and down another crack, to be replaced by more warm water from below. Atop a wooden bench along one wall were more towels and a basket of rough, loofah-looking sponges.
"Dibs." Rose was hard-pressed not to drool as she imagined sinking into that lovely pool; she'd have to make sure the Doctor saved these coordinates!
Just then a knock came at the door, and the Doctor went to open it. Two young people – a girl and a boy, both maybe thirteen – handed the Doctor a large basket. The girl smiled. "Welcome! Duleian asked that we bring you an evening meal. There is vegetable stew, and cheese, and a loaf of bread, and some nauchnorra, and my mother's stonefruit pies. We will come back two hands after dawn with breakfast." Smiling broadly at the Doctor's appreciative sniffs and thanks, they both bowed and scampered back up the path.
"Well, so far we're ahead of our typical game, wouldn't you say? Nice accommodations, no angry mobs, free dinner?" The Doctor grinned and carried the basket over to the table and set it down, immediately digging through it as he catalogued the contents. Rose wasn't sorry to see it either; for lunch they'd eaten sandwiches they'd packed in the Doctor's cavernous pockets, but those were long gone.
The Doctor pulled his sonic screwdriver out of his pocket, twiddled with the settings, and passed it slowly and carefully over each of the items in the basket. "Allrighty, let's make sure we're not going to regret this meal later…ah! Excellent! All safe to eat, although that brown stuff in the bottle – I think that must be the nauchnorra? – is pretty potent. Nearly thirty-five percent alcohol by volume, so it's like double-strength fortified wine. Ah well, shall we?"
They unpacked the food and sat down at the small table, chatting idly about the planet and village while they ate. The stew was good, full of odd but tasty vegetables, and very filling, though a bit on the bland side. The cheese and bread could easily have come from Earth, despite the slight reddish tint to both (due to some weird mineral, which the Doctor nattered on about), and the dark, honeylike nauchnorra was indeed powerful stuff. Rose had one glass and the Doctor three - but then again, his Time Lord physiology didn't metabolize alcohol the way she did, so she doubted he'd be dancing on the tables anytime soon. She, on the other hand, was already feeling the effects of the drink, and on top of the exhaustion of the day, it was rapidly draining her. Such was her tiredness that she didn't even complain - too much – when the Doctor ate both his fruit pie and hers. After a quick trip to the outdoor loo, she'd realized that she didn't have much time left before she was a complete zombie, and she really wanted to get clean.
"D'you mind if I have a wash? I smell like…well, sweat and weird alien planet dirt, and I'm gonna crash soon." Rose didn't even wait for an answer. She grabbed her small knapsack from the spot by the door where she'd dropped it. Heading into the small bathing room, she stripped off and lowered herself into the steaming water, barely suppressing a groan. She could easily fall asleep in here, but she supposed that might lead to some mighty uncomfortable situations, so she forced herself to dig out her travel toiletries and scrub her hair and body clean. Lingering for just a few moments longer, she sighed and begrudgingly hauled herself out. She dug in her knapsack and retrieved clean undies, pink pajama bottoms, and a snug gray tank top. In a few moments she was dressed and had her hair at least acceptably dry – though she predicted plaits or a ponytail for tomorrow, for sure – and she left the blessed warmth of the bathing room for the chillier main room.
"You look happier," remarked the Doctor from the table area. He looked up from his paperback and took in her night attire and wet hair. "Better get in bed; this fire's on the way out, and once it does it'll get a lot colder in here." He stood and headed out the door; Rose took a minute to clean her teeth at the washstand, then tossed the water out the door and all but leapt into the low bed. She was still thrashing around trying to get the pillows and covers arranged to her liking when the Doctor came back in and headed for the bathing room, snagging the bar of local soap on his way.
Ten minutes later, Rose was drowsily watching the patterns of light flicker on the ceiling when the Doctor emerged, toweling his head and wearing navy pajama bottoms and a white t-shirt. "Mmphr uffr orrow?" he said, his voice entirely muffled by the towel. Rose snickered, then broke into helpless giggles when he removed the towel to reveal the wildest hair she'd ever seen on him…and that was saying a lot. "Hey, missy! Not all of us travel with potions and weapons to make our hair behave in all possible circumstances!" He ran his hands through the offending shock, which did actually tame it rather well, and stuck his tongue out impishly at Rose before turning to bar the door and blow out the candles. By the dim light of the fading fireplace, he approached the bed. "Mind if I share? No couch, and those chairs are going to be torture devices after an hour or so…"
"'Course. Get in. Just don't even think about stealing the covers." Rose scooted over and held back the covers, and the Doctor slid his lanky body in. The mattress filling, whatever it was, was remarkably supportive yet soft, and as his weight lowered the side of the bed, Rose was rolled slightly in toward him. To her surprise, he reached out and gently gathered her into his arms, curling his body up snugly with hers and tucking his head next to hers. Well, okay, she could most certainly live with this. Most certainly. She focused on enjoying every sensation she possibly could.
"All right?" he murmured against her hair. Personally, the Doctor was blissfully content – clean and fed, Rose in his arms, a new planet to explore tomorrow…it didn't get much better as far as he was concerned.
"Mmmmhmm…" Rose snuggled even closer, laying her hand on his chest to feel the odd yet comforting double-thump. Her cheek was pressed up against his jawline – ooh, he'd shaved - and she could smell the new tang of the local soap overlaid on the Doctor's individual scent. Her tired feet and legs tangled up with his and their Colgate-y breath mingled; this was as close to heaven as she'd possibly imagined, even with her being so exhausted that she didn't even have energy for naughty thoughts.
With the Doctor's fingers brushing out a gentle metronomic caress on her back, it didn't take long for Rose to drop off. The Doctor continued to hold her close as she slept, watching the firelight die and losing himself in the rare sensation of complete contentment. After several hours, even he, too, slept.