A/N: Told you I am updating quickly! I have no more homework until February Break so I have been spending my time writing and relaxing. Quite fun actually. Hope you all enjoy this chapter, it was quite fun to write and very fun to research.
Chapter Five:
Rose woke up the next morning to the sound of clanging in the next room. She opened her eyes and went to reach for a clock to check the time groggily. When she looked over at the table beside the bed and saw only a candlestick, she remembered that there was no clock, let alone any electricity. She got up and stretched before checking the progress of the sun in the sky to judge the time. It had barely peeped over the edge of the trees and the sky was still red and pink. The moon was still visible she groaned internally. She looked down at her dress which had been slept in, noting the wrinkles and realized nothing could be done to straighten them out.
Sighing, Rose walked through the woven curtain and was met with a very homey scene. The Doctor was sitting contently at the table, munching on a piece of rustic bread with preserves. Mrs. Mac Gearailt was busying herself in the kitchen, washing dishes with some water from the well. A delicious smell was wafting from the pot over the fire. Rose stumbled to the kitchen and pulled up a chair, putting her head on the table. Áine brought her over a bowl of oats that had been cooking in the pot with a dollop of strawberry jam and a bit of honey. Rose realized that her host was pulling out all of her best cooking, attempting to impress, what she thought were, the posh Londoners.
"Not used to the early mornin' are ye?" She asked with a smirk. Rose lifted her head up for the food.
"No, in London we don't get up until later," Rose said vaguely, blowing on a spoonful of porridge.
"Well 'ere we 'ave to get up bright an' early to get the chores done," she explained. "Cathal goes an' helps with plowin' and sewin' the crops down at ó Ceallacháin's farm. He grows the wheat an' oats for the town, sells em' to us cheap when Cathal 'elps out. Got up early today to 'elp before church." The elderly lady eyed Rose, "you'll be needin' to remember yer bonnet."
Rose nodded, eating slowly. She almost forgot that it was Sunday and going to church would be expected. The Doctor had been strangely quiet through the exchange, just eating his bread and absentmindedly staring out the window. Probably pondering on what the footprint they had found last night meant.
"Yer goin' to be 'elping me feed the 'orses," Áine said to Rose, taking away the bowl from the table.
"Alright," she said. She hadn't been around many horses before, only the one on the spaceship when the clockwork robots had been trying to cut her open and she hadn't had a chance to approach it. She wasn't entirely sure how to act around them. She remembered reading they could sense fear. Great.
"An' you can go 'elp Cathal with the plowing. I know the good book says that Sunday is a day o' rest, but that isn't always possible when there's work to be done," Áine said offhandedly, talking to the Doctor. Rose thought he was going to choke for a split second. His eyes widened and he coughed around his bread. He was about to object when he looked at the older woman's resolute expression. Rose thought he visibly weakened under her glare. She'd have to learn how to do that. "You two can help us in the mornin' and then go 'bout yer business after church." The doctor nodded, acknowledging defeated.
"Now out the door with the two of ye, we can clean up when we get back." She hurried the Rose and the Doctor out the door. "Cathal will be o're there, ye can see him and Sean ó Ceallacháin with the donkey," she pointed to a far off field where Rose could see one man trying to convince the mule to move forward, and the other steadying the plow in the back. She almost felt sorry for the Doctor, she didn't think he'd done hard labour once in his long life.
The Doctor began walking towards the field, his shoulders low and his face arranged into a scowl. Rose turned away from him and began following Mrs. Mac Garealit.
"Here," she said, thrusting a wooden bucket into Rose's hands and taking one for herself. She stalked off towards a stone well that was on a communal property. Rose gingerly tied the bucket to the string and lowered in into the dark pit until she felt the rope slacken. She pulled up the bucket and saw it was brimming with cool water. Áine copied her actions and soon they had two very full buckets of water.
"This way," Áine said walking towards a rustic stable.
The barn was small and smelled strongly like farm animal. Rose had to hold her breath to keep her eyes from watering. There were two horses in the barn. One was very large and muscular; it was black and had white patches around its face and hooves, with copious amounts of hair. The name Clydesdale came to mind, but Rose wasn't entirely sure that was the correct term. The second was slight and light beige in colour with a blonde mane and tail. It trotted nervously when Rose entered the barn.
When the chores were done and the horses were fed and watered, they walked back to the house under a risen sun. Rose could see the Doctor in the distance, looking very out of place in the field. She suppressed a giggle and followed Áine back into the house.
"Now ye can't be wearin' that old dress to church," Rose's host said, rounding on her. "I think I've some old dresses from me, younger, days up in me chest. They should fit ye just fine." Áine patted her figure self-consciously before turning on her heel.
Rose watched her march up the stairs and heard her open something. She waited patiently for Áine to walk back down the stairs. She handed Rose a bundle of cloth and shooed her into the back room to get changed.
Rose quickly slipped on the new dress, admiring the fine linen cloth and slightly puffed sleeves. It was a mute red colour with black trimmings. Like the other dress, it cinched at the waist but it was more form fitting and showed off the top half of her figure, though the neckline was conservative just showing off her collarbones. The bottom half floated out gracefully in an a-line skirt. Rose put on the headdress and adjusted her hair before going out and showing Mrs. Mac Garealit.
The elderly woman was also changed into a nicer dress, a light blue colour that toned down her complexion.
Just as Rose was about to speak, the Doctor and Cathal Mac Garealit walked in. The Doctor looked positively shaken. It was the first time Rose had ever seen him disheveled with his tie partly undone and his suit sweated through. He had dirt up to his ankles and, somehow, on his face and nose. He gave Rose a look before going to his room to clean up.
"Well I don' think that one's made for 'ard labour," Mr. Mac Garealit laughed. He also went up stairs to change into his Sunday best.
By the time they got to the church, it was full of the townspeople. Rose, the Doctor, who had sonic'ed his clothing clean and looked much more put together, and the Mac Garealit's took a seat in one of the back pews. The Doctor and Rose took the time to take in the rest of the townspeople.
Rose noted the large blacksmith sitting at the front. He was next to an fourty-something petite woman with her dirty blonde hair pulled severely up into a bun and covered with a small bonnet. She had delicate features with astonishing blue eyes that were surrounded by laugh lines. Beside them were four young girls, ranging from the age of around twenty to five. Two young boys also sat with them, one a teenager and the other a toddler who was curled up in his mother's lap. The eldest, the so-called most beautiful girl in the town, certainly lived up to her reputation. Light blonde hair was tucked under a simple white bonnet, though some strands of gentle waves that struggled to escape nicely framed her heart-shaped face. She had her mother's delicate features but her father's warm green eyes. Her simple white dress clung to her small figure. Rose could see why she was the most beautiful in town.
While Aodhán spoke his sermon, Rose observed the rest of the town. There was another family sitting near the front, a harried looking man and large boned wife with five children in various states of shabby clothing. One of the older sons was eying the beautiful girl appreciatively. There was another man and his wife just behind them with one daughter, all sitting pin-rod straight and paying apt attention to Aodhán. A sad looking man, sitting just in front of Rose, tried to hold two young boys, twins, while they squirmed about on the seat. She saw Miss. Reid sitting with the rest of the widows, all in black clothing, looking solemnly at the podium.
Rose let her attention and imagination wander for the rest of the ceremony. She could see the Doctor doing the same thing, looking at people and silently making mental notes. Finally, Aodhán's speech came to a halt and the church mumbled 'Amen' in unison. The church filled with sounds of rustling as people began to get up and move around, socializing.
Mrs. Mac Garealit hurried Rose and the Doctor over to the closest family, ready to introduce everyone.
"An' this is Cian ó Dubhuir," Áine said, introducing them , once again, to the giant blacksmith.
"'Lo," he said waving a hand. "This is me wife, Róisín, an' me children, Dónal, Faolán, Treasa, Deirdre, Aisling, Sadhbh." He gestured a giant hand to his sons first, then his daughters, eldest first and youngest last. Each of them nodded their head in turn as he called their names. Treasa was the clearly the oldest, the rest of the children looked to be anywhere from early teens to young toddlers.
"My name is Rose Tyler, this is the Doctor," Rose introduced herself.
"Very pleased t'meet you Miss Tyler," the pretty daughter, Treasa, said.
"You as well, Treasa," she said in return, thankful for at least one name she could pronounce. Their hosts were in a deep conversation with Mr. ó Dubhuir and his wife, and most of the children had run off to play, wrestling and running around the main path.
Only Treasa was left standing in front of Rose. She smiled kindly, unsure of what to say. The Doctor muttered an excuse, and ran off to catch Aodhán, probably to inform him of their discover of Mr. Reid's donkey.
"Well, looks like it's just us girls," Rose said lightly. "Why don't we go for a stroll, yeah?"
The younger girl nodded, and followed Rose out of the church onto the main path where many of the church patrons were conversing pleasantly, gossiping about this and that.
"So I hear that you are recently engaged?" Rose asked, trying to stimulate some kind of conversation.
Treasa blushed, enhancing her beauty with a bit of colour on her pale cheeks. "Not really," she said quietly in a silvery voice. "A man asked my father for my hand, but he hasn't said yes yet."
"You don't sound very happy about it."
The girl blushed darker, and averted her eyes. "No."
"Is there a reason? Just between us girls." Rose smiled kindly, hoping to relax Treasa.
"I don' love him."
"And is there someone in particular you do love?" Rose thought she heard a note of longing in Treasa's voice.
"Well," Treasa said, but she didn't finish her thought. She glanced over to where her father was talking animatedly to an older man. Rose could hear his booming voice from where she was standing.
"I won't tell anyone if that's what you're worried about. I know a thing or two about love," Rose added wistfully.
"Is it that man ye came here with?" Treasa asked, her eyes wide. Rose could see the scandalous thoughts processing behind the blue eyes. They were, afterall, a young unmarried pair, travelling together without official supervision.
"It's complicated. He doesn't love me like that, but we're very close friends," there was a hint of frustration in her voice.
"I know how you feel. Ye see tha' man o're there? With the two wee babes?" She pointed towards the sad looking man with the two children that Rose had seen in church. Upon a closer inspection, she could see handsome features beneath the worn expression on his face. His messy hair was an auburn colour and there was distinct stubble around his square jaw, but Rose could imagine that he would look handsome if he polished up. "His name is Sean ó Ceallacháin ." Rose remembered that this was the man whose farm the Doctor had helped out on this morning. Treasa continued, "his wife died givin' birth to 'em babes just two years back. He and I were...friends growin' up. Spent more than a few days swimmin' in the river and talkin' when our parents were gone or workin'. His marriage was arranged before..." she stopped talking suddenly.
"He was going to propose to you?" Rose guessed. Treasa nodded solemnly.
"An' now father won't let me marry him because he's widowed. Says I deserve a better man." She sniffed tearfully.
"Well keep your chin up," Rose said, unsure of how to comfort the girl. She wasn't sure about customs in medieval times, but she patted the girls arm reassuringly. "Everythin' always works out in the end."
The girl nodded, unconvinced, but she wiped away her blue eyes and straightened her expression. "I'm meetin' him later today. He wants to tell me something, he said it's important."
"Well you never know," Rose smiled. She caught sight of the Doctor heading out of the church and said her goodbyes to the girl before walking back to the cluster of people.
She caught up with the Doctor and quickly grabbed his arm, pulling him away out of earshot.
"Did A... Aod...the priest say anything?"
"Just said that Mr. Reid most likely got lost in the woods. Didn't want to hear anything about anything supernatural," the Doctor said, frustrated. "He invited us to dinner with his family."
"Fantastic," Rose muttered. "I'm startin' to wonder if he has anything to do with this."
"I was thinking exactly the same thing," the Doctor smiled brightly.
Rose returned his grin. "Guess we'll just have to question him at dinner."
"You know that sometimes I think you just might enjoy all this."
"You know that sometimes I think you just might be right." And Rose didn't feel annoyed at all that the Doctor had been right again.
"Well that was useless," the Doctor muttered as they exited the house. They had had lunch with Aodhán, his son and daughter-in-law (Fearghus and Siobhán) and granddaughter (Ciara), who Rose remembered at the ones who had paid close attention during church. They kept the conversation neutral, sticking to things like the weather and speculating on the outcome of the harvest this year. Every attempt at bringing the conversation back to the goings on in the forest and been skilfully avoided. "Worse than useless!" he exclaimed. "If I could get my sonic close enough, maybe I could scan him." The Doctor looked thoughtful, no doubt trying to come up with a plan to do just that.
The Doctor brought a hand to his face and rubbed his brow, clearly stumped by the situation. Rose understood his frustration and was about to reach out and comfort him when a panicked voice arose over the crest of the hill.
The man that Treasa had pointed out, Sean ó Ceallacháin was sprinting towards Aodhán's house, shouting for help. He reached Rose and the Doctor and bent over to catch his breath. He was breathing very heavily.
"Treasa," he huffed.
"She isn't here," Rose said kindly.
The man looked up, his face was red and his cheeks were stained with tears. Rose took a step back as Aodhán and his family came out of the house to quiet the commotion.
"No," he gasped, tears still streaming down his face. "She's dead."
Dinner, in medieval times, was actually lunch. Supper was dinner. If that makes sense. What I am trying to do with this story, besides solve the mystery, is give a history surrounding medieval everyday life. It's a throwback to the pure historicals that Doctor Who once featured. I am a history student so the history portion of all this is very near and dear to my heart. I hope I am doing an okay job and, as always, please review if you have ANY questions/concerns/comments.
Like seriously, review. I only have one lonely comment and it's making me think this story isn't any good :(~ Hayley.