A/N: Hello all, thanks for sticking with this. It has been a long week, filled with frightful essays and midterms (yikes). I finally got this chapter finished on my plane ride home and am publishing it while I am waiting for my baggage to arrive. Literally. I seriously researched the best I could into some funeral practices, so I hope you enjoy the history. And as always, I edited the best I could but I was on a bumpy plane and so there may be a few errors. Point 'em out, or ignore them please and thank you :) I really hope you enjoy and REVIEW! Cookies if you review. Or Doctor kisses. Either or ;)
Chapter Seven:
The Doctor did the absolute last thing that Rose expected.
He threw back his head and laughed. A loud, rancorous sound echoed off the trees and a handful of birds took wing at the terrifying noise.
Rose was taken aback, her mind was racing. Maybe the light drove people to madness. Maybe the Doctor had already been seduced by it and was in mortal danger. She saw his body lying on the ground, slashed open like Treasa's had been and both his hearts taken, eaten by the foul creature. She refused to let that happen. Rose pulled the Doctor's arm, shielding her eyes from the light to avoid it from corrupting her mind. Quickly she pulled him through the forest and through the river, not bothering to step on the stones and soaking the hemline of her dress, the Doctor in tow. He seemed to be following willingly, but maybe his senses had been lost, maybe he was willing to follow whatever coerced him. Rose kept running and only stopped when she reached the open field, in full view of the houses.
"Is it followin' us?" She asked, catching her breath, ready to run again at the Doctor's answer.
"No, Rose," the Doctor said, traces of mirth still escaped from his lips. He seemed to be amused by Rose's reaction to the light. "You don't see it, do you?"
"See what?" She put her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow, copying his famous expression and daring him to mock her ignorance.
"There's no danger in the forest," he said. "Well, at least not from that thing."
"What do you mean there is no danger in the forest? That thing tore Treasa apart, you saw it! It took her heart and ripped her intestines right out of her body," Rose felt queasy just saying that.
"No, no, no no no no," the Doctor wagged his finger excitedly.
Rose glared at it contemptibly, she felt an overwhelming desire to bite the finger that wagged in her face. "Well then what did?" She was getting exceedingly irritable.
"I don't know," he said and Rose opened her mouth to talk, a loud protest already on her lips. "But," the Doctor exclaimed loudly, interrupting her, "I do know what that was."
"Well what was it? An alien weapon? Laser residue? A figment of my imagination?"
"That was a Doradalos."
That stopped Rose's anger in its tracks. "A what?"
"A Doradalos," the Doctor said brightly. "Oh this is brilliant. They are these little tiny creatures that float about space. They aren't very intelligent, sort of like bugs that get stuck on the windshield of your spaceship if you're unlucky. But they sort of float around until they find planets with intelligent life and then they settle in and live off of carbon decay in the atmosphere. You see them hanging around bogs and decaying matter, humans mistake them for the oxidation of phosphine, diophosphine and methane or bioluminescence but it's really little aliens. Cool, eh?" He smiled devilishly.
"They're...bugs," Rose said incredulously.
"Well space bugs. They are actually little things, just the size of my pinky finger nail, but they let off the blue glowy stuff when they've eaten. Sometimes they float about space, helping people in need guiding them with their light to safe places. They are helpful little things, though not necessarily intelligent. Once I was on a moon in the Rexabatorix galaxy and I was wondering around in the Tardis, and one of those things led me away from a black hole. It's actually a funny story, see I was..."
"So, they're bugs," Rose interrupted, still trying to piece everything together. "They aren't hinkypinkies or will-o-the-wisps because they are bugs."
"Yes."
"They can't kill anyone, or do anything to harm them...because they're bugs."
"Nope," the Doctor popped his 'p'.
"Well then what killed Treasa?"
"Well that I don't know, but we can figure it out."
"How?"
The Doctor pointed back to the forest and said, "those little bugs can tell us."
"You speak... Doradalonigan I suppose," Rose said sarcastically, making up the word on the spot.
"Well no, but give me time, and I'll get the answer."
Rose shot him a glance, snorted, and looked over towards the houses in the village. From over the roofs, Rose could hear that there was some kind of an uproar erupting from the town centre. Angry voices were carrying over the field.
"Come on, we'd best find out what that is," Rose said, picking up her skirt and rushing towards the town. The Doctor followed closely behind her.
The entire town was gathered around the church steps. Angry voices rose like a cacophonic orchestra, shouting and yelling and pointing fingers. Aodhán stood on the steps with two other older men, holding the crowd at bay. Cian was also there, leaning against the doors, looking resigned to the mess that was unfolding around him. The crowd seemed to be divided into two groups, each accusing the other of something. It looked as though a fight was going to break out at any second. Or worse a riot. Rose didn't want to see a mob of angry villagers with pitchforks. Not only would it be too cliché, she was certain that her and the Doctor would be the first targets of a xenophobic hunt.
The Doctor ran through the crowd, pulling Rose through the tightly packed bodies. She caught snippets of conversations as they wrestled their way to the front steps.
"I want to see that boy hanged." An angry young man yelled.
"Aye, string him up in the tree and leave 'im fer the crows," another agreed wholeheartedly.
"Show 'im some mercy, it can' have been 'im," an older man shouted back.
"I 'eard her body was torn apart, it'll be a witch tha's done it. Black magic sorcery," a lady said wisely. "Find the witch, aye."
There was a round of rancorous 'Ayes' that followed. Rose gulped. The town wanted blood and they weren't going to rest until they got it. Rose feared that she or the Doctor might be accused. It was suspicious, she conceded, that they had shown up just as Treasa had been killed. Terror gripped her throat. She looked to the Doctor for an answer but found him missing from her side.
The Doctor managed to struggle his way to the front. He nodded quickly to Aodhán who surrendered the floor, so to speak. The Doctor turned to the crowd, silencing the townsfolk with a time lord glare. They hushed quickly.
"I examined the body after it was found. In my experience as a doctor," he emphasized the word strongly, "it is my professional opinion that it was the wolves that killed Miss. ó Dubhuir. There is no evidence of foul play, nor evidence of witchcraft," he eyed the lady who had brought up the topic to begin with. "Though it is a tragedy, it was a natural death, and Treasa ó Dubhuir is now in a better place."
The townsfolk had the decency to look abashed. They respected Aodhán enough to trust the Doctor's word. Rose breathed a sigh of relief. He had managed to diffuse the situation and placated the townspeople with a natural, rather than supernatural, explanation.
Aodhán stepped forward, addressing the crowd once again. "The funeral will be tonight, at dusk. Mr. ó Dubhuir wishes to bring his daughter to rest as soon as possible, so please join us when the sun falls behind the mountain."
With his word, the people dispersed, still gossiping in hushed whispers about the death, but no longer calling for Sean's blood. The Doctor and Rose were left with the town elders and Cian on the door step of the church.
"I know them marks weren' made by no wolves," Aodhán said, "but they don' need to be knowin' that. Come, we'll get in the church. The rest o' the ó Dubhuir's'll be in there, an' Sean too."
They entered the church to a tearful family. Treasa's mother, Róisín was holding the youngest toddler, who clearly had no concept of what was happening and was happily sucking on his thumb. Róisín on the other hand was weeping freely, holding her oldest son's hand. The three other daughters were all huddled together, all clearly in different stages of grief. Sean was sitting at a distance from the family, his eyes fixed on the front of the church where his lover was placed. Treasa's body lay on the table that normally held the transubstantiation equipment, covered with a new white cloth which remained, thankfully, white. A simple pine coffin stood up against the wall, reminding everyone unnecessarily of the sobering situation.
Rose went to sit with the family, unsure of what to do or where her place was. "I'm sorry for your loss," she whispered to Róisín. The grieving mother nodded and reached out for Rose's hand, which willingly accepted and squeezed comfortingly. She watched Cian walk over to Sean and sat down wordlessly beside him. He looked the younger man once over and put a comforting arm around him, patting his back, as he would have his own son. Sean looked at Cian gratefully as the two men came to a silent, mutual understanding.
Once again, Aodhán took charge of the situation, walking to the front and addressing the family like he would have preached a sermon. "We are goin' to have to get her in the coffin," he began. "An' then ye can plan out what ye want to say, if there are any bible passages ye would like included in the ceremony."
Róisín sniffed but nodded. Cian gave a mumble of confirmation that he heard, but didn't add anything to the conversation.
"I'd like to say...something," Rose piped up, her voice hushed. "I know I only met her this mornin', but," she searched for the right words. "I want to say goodbye. If that's alright," she added hastily.
Róisín looked at her, her eyes wide and expression curious. Rose didn't think she say any hostility but something flashed behind her eyes as she processed the request. "Aye, I think that'll be okay," she mumbled, her voice low and thick with emotion. Cian looked at Rose thankfully.
That evening the funeral took place. It was a simple affair and nothing like the grandiose funerals that Rose had been to in her own time. When her Grandmum had passed, half of the neighbourhood had been invited to the ceremony, along with anyone that the family had made contact with in the past twenty years, it seemed. There were gaudy flower arrangements and an expensive coffin and a guestbook at the funeral house. Rose said goodbye in her own way, instead of looking the open casket and voicing her grief like the others did. The affair felt, to Rose, more like an excuse to show off her Nan's wealth and prestige, rather than to say goodbye and celebrate her memory.
The ceremony that was held in honour of Treasa was natural. She lay in a simple closed pine box at the head of the church with a simple bouquet of wildflowers that one of her sisters had picked and laid on top. The pews were filled with the townsfolk who were still smartly dressed in their Sunday church clothes, all quietly bowing their heads in memory of the beautiful girl. Aodhán stood in his natural place at the podium, speaking of the better life that Treasa was now experiencing in Heaven, with her grandparents, passed siblings and God. There was mourning as well, as Cian got up and spoke of Treasa's purity and goodness in life. His wife cried as he sat down and he put a comforting arm around her, while his other held his eldest son's hand.
When it was Rose's turn to speak, she let go of the Doctor's hand, which she had been squeezing extremely tightly, and walked to the front of the church. She ignored the curious and somewhat suspicious looks from some of the people in the pews, and walked to the podium to say her part.
"I know I didn't know Treasa as long as you have," she began quietly and respectfully, "but from the little time we spent together, I learned that she was a passionate girl with a large heart. She loved her family, respected her father and the church and Aodhán," (she proudly did not stumble on his name). "She wasn't afraid to follow her heart, which cannot be said for most people that live through life. Treasa did not deserve to leave you so young, but she had good years with people who loved her, and took care of her, and that's all that matters," she finished somewhat lamely. But her words seemed to have left an impact on the ó Dubhuir family, and indeed on the rest of the Church. They stared at her silently as she walked back to her seat.
Aodhán took the podium again, said the Lord's Prayer, the rest of the church followed in unison. Even the Doctor hung his head and mumbled a few words, including the "Amen" at the end.
"Now I will call the coffin bearers to the front and we will begin our way to the cemetery," Aodhán said. Four men, Cian and his eldest and two men Rose did not recognize by name, rose to the front of the church and lifted the coffin upon their shoulders. They slowly walked out the front door, the church congregation following them. The main path was washed with red light from the setting sun, which threw bloody shadows onto the town. Darkness would fall soon. During the walk to the cemetery, the tears flowed freely, led chiefly by the silent sobs that wracked Cian as he clutched his daughter's coffin until his fingernails dug into the wood. His wife followed close behind, clutching their youngest to her breast who only now seemed to have grasped the gravity of the situation. He was tearfully calling out for his oldest sister, searching among his siblings and reaching his cubby arms out to be held by her. The other family members remained silent, choosing to show their grief through the tears that rolled down their cheeks.
Rose held back a few tears herself and reached for the Doctor's hand. He grasped it and gave her a squeeze of comfort before she leaned onto his shoulder. She didn't much care what her behaviour said about their relationship to the townsfolk who would no doubt see it as improper. She only knew she wanted to be held and comforted and told that everything would be okay, like she had when her Nan had died. She looked up at the Doctor's face and he looked deeply into her eyes. There was something that Rose couldn't identify, hidden in the dark pools. She tried to wordlessly ask him what was wrong, but he looked away and kept his eyes fixed forward on the coffin that led the way through the streets.
At the edge of the grave yard, the Doctor hung back, keeping Rose beside him as all the people filled into the tiny field that was marked with simple wooden or stone markers. Rose looked over the grave yard. It was beautiful in a morbid, gothic way. The stones that marked the graves were simple smoothed rocks with inscriptions about the deceased; their names, their day of births and deaths. Some said a few extra words like 'loving mother' or 'dedicated father' or 'beloved child'. A few had rudimentary runes or symbols carved on them. One, which marked the death of an elderly woman, held an ouroboros engraving. The wooden crosses reserved for people who couldn't afford stone grave markers were in various states of decay. The older ones were almost entirely rotted and the names were indiscernible, fading away just like the memories of the people who were buried beneath them. The field itself was dotted with wildflowers in shades of purple and yellow, though the bloody sunlight cast these into unsettling shades of red. A few of the graves had bundles of flowers on them from family members mourning the recent loss of a loved one. The Doctor kept his hand of Rose as the rest of the people made their way to Treasa's final resting place.
"What is it?" Rose whispered, eager to pay her last respects to Treasa before they lowered her into the ground.
"I'm going to go into the forest, see if I can communicate with the Doradalosi about what is happening out there. See if they can tell me about the thing that killed her," he motioned with his eyes to the funeral proceedings.
"You can't even wait to say goodbye?" Rose asked angrily.
The Doctor looked uncomfortable, but brushed off Rose's comment. "I think that this is more important."
Rose struggled with the volume of her voice before she answered the Doctor, unwilling to disturb the funeral that was taking place at the other side of the field. The result was a cool, controlled tone that threatened to break into a thunderous roar at any given moment, like lava under a rocky surface, "if you think that whatever you are doin' cannot wait the half hour it would take to say goodbye to his poor girl," her voice threatened to break, "then everything I thought about you has been wrong, and you are not the man I thought you were." She turned on her heel and stalked off towards the group of people who were gathered around the open grave, leaving the Doctor on the edge of the graveyard.
When the final goodbyes were underway and Aodhán was saying a few more verses, Rose looked towards where she had last left the bewildered Doctor. He had left.
I know this was depressing but it was necessary Also now were are entering into the climax of the plot and we are really going to figure out what is going on. Any ideas? Conspiracy theories? Space bug enthusiasts? If so, tell me in your review.
Next chapter to come soon, hopefully in a few days :)