Author's Note:
Here it is everyone, the final installment of The Plague of the Niscorites! Thank you for sticking with me guys, but remember the epilogue will be out soon! With the epilogue will be a "preview" of my next story. I will be taking a few days break to get started on the new story, but I hope you enjoy that one just as much as this one if not more! Please do leave any comments, reviews, critiques, or anything else for me! I love reading your opinions and reactions!
Happy reading!
Chapter Eight: The Young Queen
Clara didn't understand what was happening. One moment the Doctor was fidgeting in his seat, the next he had his lips crushed to hers in earnest. There was a wash of pain in her body and it flooded through her veins until, just as suddenly as it had come, it was gone. She was left with her heart racing in her chest and words garbled up in her head. She could feel the Doctor's fingertips against her cheek and along her jawline, and suddenly it was too much to handle. Clara felt overwhelmed, she couldn't think, so she did the first thing that came to her.
She slapped him.
The Doctor reeled back, one hand flying to his face. "Ow!" He said, looking at Clara with disbelief. "That hurt, what did you do that for?"
Clara wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, sitting up in her cot. "You kissed me!"
"Yes, I kissed you! You humans have a tendency to point out the obvious." A smile began to break out over his face as he rubbed his jaw. His face, sometimes so old and worn, looked young and vibrant again. He was happy.
"What are you smiling at?" Clara asked, pursing her lips to stop her own smile. He looked so childish when he smiled like that.
"You're still wearing the fez."
Clara had completely forgotten about the fez. She laughed and took the silly looking hat off her head.
"I had forgotten about it." She placed the fez on his head, pulling so it was snug. "It suits you much better."
"It suits you just fine, it's a fez. Fezzes are cool."
Clara listened to him laugh with a smile. She yawned, stretching her arms over her head. Her limbs were heavy, as though she had been stiff for days. The Doctor was still watching her with a gentle grin.
"What? What are you looking at now?" She inquired. "Why are you smiling like that?"
The Doctor pressed his hands to the sides of her face and kissed her forehead. He sighed in relief as he held her to his chest, fingers buried in her hair.
"Because you're blushing," The Doctor answered softly. Clara could feel both hearts beating in his chest. It was strange, but it was comforting.
"Well I hardly think that's my fault." Clara defended.
The Doctor pulled back and took her face into his hands. He was smiling so warmly and for a moment Clara thought he might cry.
"No, you don't understand. You're blushing, there's color in your face. You're not pale anymore." The Doctor pressed another chaste kiss to her forehead. "Do you feel sick? Are you still in pain?"
Clara pulled away from the Doctor to test it, wiggling in her cot before she looked at the Doctor with a pleasantly surprised expression. "You kissed me and made me better, how?" She asked with her eyes narrowed.
"The Philomites feed off the life of whoever they're taking over, that's what all that pain is. They take that life, all your feelings and emotions and they gorge themselves like little microscopic overfed pigs. But a kiss, a kiss is a rush of pure epinephrine, or adrenaline. Adrenaline is like pure life force, and when it floods the body in large quantities it—"
"Drowns them?" Clara finished breathlessly.
The Doctor smiled fondly at Clara, his Clara. He tapped the tip of her nose with his finger. "Exactly. Now all we have to do is simultaneously make every infected person have an adrenaline rush while somehow managing to get the rest of the Philomites to leave this planet." He rubbed his fingers together and pursed his lips, a tell-tale sign that he had no plan.
"Oh, well," Clara shrugged and took a deep breath. "Sounds easy enough."
"It will be. Once I figure out how to do it." The Doctor took Clara's hand and stood, bringing her to stand up with him. He quickly grasped her shoulder and looked her over, flipping his sonic in his hand before he waved it over her. "And you're sure you're not feeling faint or dizzy or anything?" He asked carefully. Clara rolled her eyes and took his sonic from him before tucking it back in his jacket pocket.
"I'm fine, Doctor. There are more important things than me right now. Where's Artima?"
"Right now she's getting my Tardis back." The Doctor moved towards the foyer. He took out his sonic and let it sound. As the sound reverberated from the walls, his expression slowly fell.
"That's funny." He murmured, though it didn't sound funny at all. "I'm trying to home in on her so she can land but she's still not landing."
"What does that mean?"
The Doctor held his sonic in both hands, swaying back and forth a little. "It means Artima is in trouble."
"Artima!" The Doctor shouted. He took the stairs two at a time, rushing to find Artima. Clara followed behind him as quickly as she could.
"Artima!" He called again, reaching the top of the steps. He immediately covered his nose and mouth so he would not breathe in the dust. "Clara, don't breathe in the dust. Cover your nose, hold your breath, do anything you can to not breathe it in."
Just inside the ornate archway, covered in a fine layer of dust as though she had been there for years, lay a very still Artima. Clara immediately tried to rush to her, but the Doctor grasped her arm to stop her.
"Don't," He said quietly, taking a few steps so he was right under the arch. "She's still alive. Look, her chest is still moving. Just barely. Artima," He spoke gently. "Artima, can you hear me? Can you move?"
Artima twitched and shifted. She stood with clumsy limbs, her bright eyes duller than they had been.
The Doctor's jaw clenched as he watched her stare blankly at him with those wide, clouded eyes.
"You didn't have to kill her!" He bellowed in anger. "She was only a little girl!"
When Artima opened her mouth to speak, it was not her voice that resonated. "She is not…dead…yet. She is…necessary for…our…empire. She is…the Queen."
"She's not a Queen; she's just a little girl!" Clara defended. The Doctor looked back at Clara before turning to face Artima again.
"Yes she is." He straightened his bow tie. "She has always been the Queen, Clara. Don't you remember what she said? Her grandfather built this church. This church was built six thousand years ago by the King of Bahl, making her Queen Artima the…what is it, the third?
"But she's so young; she's just a little girl!"
"She looks young, yes, but so do I." The Doctor gestured to his face. "We're both ancient by human standards."
"She…is Queen…and therefore…she must die." The Philomites rasped.
"Oh is that your conclusion?" The Doctor raised one eyebrow as he strolled up to Artima, looking her in the eyes where she knew the Philomites could see him. "Sounds like a logical one, you kill the Queen and the people are helpless. But there's one thing that you have forgotten." The Doctor spun around on his heels and pointed to Clara.
"You've forgotten about her. Look at her, tell me what you see."
Artima did not move, but she remained silent for a short period. "She is…human. How is this…relevant…Doctor?"
The Doctor laughed darkly as he turned back to them. "You're not really looking, because if you were really looking you would notice that she is alive. She is alive. Do you want to know how that is possible?"
Artima opened her mouth to speak but the Doctor interjected.
"It's because I saved her. I saved her from you and I can save Artima from you. So if I were you, I would get out of that body before I get really mad. And you wouldn't like me when I'm angry."
The Doctor looked back at Clara with his lips turned into a Cheshire grin. Clara rolled her eyes at him and folded her arms at his reference.
The sound of the Philomites laughing was unbearable. They smirked in Artima's body, leaving her face contorted into a sinister grin.
"You…are foolish…Doctor." The Philomites wheezed. "Believing you…could save her. We…are many. We…are stronger…in her."
"You're foolish for underestimating her. Artima is stronger than you think she is."
Again, the Philomites laughed. "She…is weak. She is…a coward. You should have…heard her…scream. So…afraid. So…pathetic."
The Doctor's jaw locked and he bent so he was eye to eye with Artima. He could still see her in there somewhere, frightened and alone in her own head.
"Artima, do you remember what I told you?" He murmured quietly. The smirk on Artima's lips fell. "I know you can hear me in there, Artima. I know you're listening. Do you remember what I told you?"
The Philomites in her head began to grow angry. "Stop." They ordered. The Doctor did not listen to them.
"Do you remember? You are brave, Artima. You are one of the bravest people I have ever known, and I have known a lot of people." The Doctor smiled softly. "Your love for your people brought you here, not me. You found me because you needed my help. You defied your fear and came up here to save your people. Well your people need you right now, Artima, this isn't over just yet. I need you to fight this. And I know you can do it, Artima."
"Stop!" The voice cracked, her eyes starting to grow wide. "Stop it!"
"Fight them, Artima! It's your head, not theirs! I know you can do it, you clever girl!"
The Philomites protested urgently, their protests turning to screams until finally Artima collapsed. The Doctor caught her before she hit the floor and brushed some of her silver hair from her face.
"Artima, can you hear me?" He murmured, leaning his head a little so he could look at her entire face. After a moment Artima gasped and her eyes flew open. They were her eyes, bright and silvery as they should be. The Doctor beamed at her and quickly pulled her to her feet.
"Doctor!" Artima breathed, smiling up at him. "How did you do it?"
"I didn't do anything, Artima. You fought the Philomites back into your brain. They're still there, but we can take care of that."
"No, I mean Clara. She's better, how did you do it?"
The Doctor turned on his heels to Clara and with the biggest, happiest smile he could possibly produce.
"I snogged her!" The Doctor's voice was so boisterous, so proud, that Clara and Artima both began laughing. The Doctor blinked at them in confusion. "Oi, what's so funny?"
Clara placed a hand on the Doctor's shoulder and rolled her eyes. "I'll tell you when you're older."
The Doctor pouted like a child, his shoulders falling. "I'm over a thousand years old, what do you mean when I'm older?"
"Doctor," Artima called his name to get his attention. She had her hand on a small lever. "What about your Tardis?"
"NO not that one!" The Doctor said quickly, going up to her and fidgeting with his fingers. He pointed to each of the controls as he worked it out in his head before he looked down at her. "My mistake, that one is fine. Just don't touch any of the other buttons or things might get a little wibbly, then a little wobbly, and it all ends with a big BOOM!" The Doctor splayed his hands out from his head to mime an explosion. Artima grinned at him before she yanked the lever down.
The room shook a little, and at first Clara feared they had pulled the wrong lever. But then she could hear the tell-tale sound of the Tardis. When the floor stopped moving, the Doctor whipped out his sonic and let it buzz.
"Oh you sexy thing! She's landed herself right in the foyer." The Doctor immediately set off down the stairs, following the sound of the sonic. Clara and Artima followed close behind.
The Tardis, just as the Doctor had said, was waiting for them in the middle of the foyer. The Doctor ran up to her and kissed the side of it.
"Oh you beauty!" He exclaimed loudly, unlocking the door and stepping inside.
"Did you really just kiss the Tardis?" Clara laughed as she followed him. Artima was right behind, but she took no more than two steps into the Tardis before her eyes grew wide. She backed out of the Tardis again, walked around the outside, then popped her head inside the doors again.
"Doctor…" She said, looking over the console. The Doctor smiled proudly, waiting for his most favorite line.
"It's so much smaller on the outside." Artima finished. The Doctor's smile fell and he pouted.
"Hey, you're doing it all wrong! All of you, you're doing it all wrong." He huffed. The Doctor began rummaging for something in the same chest he had pulled the fez and bow tie from. He took the fez off his head and placed it back in the chest before pulling out what looked like a large syringe full of a strange yellow liquid.
"Here we go; this is what I'm looking for!" The Doctor waved the syringe. "Adrenaline!"
Clara made a face, wrinkling her nose. "You keep adrenaline in a syringe?"
"You never know when you're going to need an adrenaline rush." He said pointedly. He grabbed one other item from the chest before he closed it.
"What are you going to do with a syringe of adrenaline? You can't just go around giving it to everyone infected. And what about the others, the bodies that have already been stolen?"
"That's what this is for." The Doctor grinned and held up a small metal device. "It's a monoatmos fibulator converter!"
"That sounds made up." Clara said with her arms folded. The Doctor looked at her and tossed the object in the air before catching it again.
"It is made up, I was being clever." The Doctor strolled past Artima and Clara with the device in his hand, continuing to speak as they made their way back up the stairs. "The monoatmos fibulator converter is a tricky little thing, it can magnetize the amount of anything you put into it and make it bigger, a lot bigger!"
"So we're going to put the adrenaline in the thingy and then what?"
"Hey, no, it's not a thingy! Thingies are much less interesting. Well, unless they're blink-y thingies or thingies that float, those are pretty terrific!" The Doctor stopped for a moment and held the device in front of Clara and Artima. "We're going to attach it to the atmospheric converter and turn their machine against them! We're going to make it rain adrenaline!"
Clara wrinkled her nose, but she followed the Doctor up the stairs anyway. "So the adrenaline is rained into the streets, but what happens to the Niscorites?"
Again, the Doctor stopped and turned on his heel. "The adrenaline will soak into their bodies and drown out the Philomites. The sick ones will get better, but there's nothing I can do about the rest, they're already gone."
"Doctor, we can't just let them die!" Artima interjected. "They're my people, there has to be a way to make them better!"
"I'm sorry Artima, there's nothing we can do. It would take a miracle to bring them back." The Doctor looked at her with an apologetic frown. "Now I am sorry, but right now we have to think about everyone we could save. We can save the rest, Artima. They don't have to suffer. Let's focus on that."
As the Doctor and Clara ran up the stairs, Artima lagged behind a little. There had to be a way to save her people. There just had to be.
When they reached the top of the stairs, the Doctor and Clara immediately started to work. Hundreds of lights were flashing on the atmospheric converter, and outside thunder boomed. The Doctor began typing furiously on a little keypad, his eyes flickering to and fro on the screen.
"Clara, I need you to attach the monoatmos fibulator converter to the big pointy top there."
"Doctor, stop with the long word and call it what it is!" Clara yelled over the thunder as she attached the device.
"Alright it's a thingy!" The Doctor huffed. His fingers were clicking on the keys at an unimaginable pace, and Artima watched them with a thoughtful expression. She was deep in thought, mulling over a few possibilities.
"Great, excellent!" The Doctor exclaimed with a wide smile. He pressed the enter key and grabbed the syringe. "Artima, I need you to—"
"Is there a way they can take mine?" Artima looked up at the Doctor suddenly. "Doctor, is there a way your device can give my life to those who lost theirs?"
The Doctor and Clara looked at Artima with disbelief. The Doctor opened and closed his mouth before he swallowed.
"…no." He said finally. "Artima, I won't allow you to."
"You're a terrible liar, Doctor." Artima smiled and grabbed the syringe. "Tell me the truth, is there a way I can give my life to them."
The Doctor pulled at his hair before he ran his hands down his face. He was struggling to lie to her again.
"Yes but there's no way you can survive it Artima. Think about your people, they need—"
"I will decide what my people need, Doctor." Artima interrupted. "And my people need to live. I cannot allow families to be ripped apart like that. I will not allow so many of their lives to be lost, Doctor. Please," She took a deep breath. "Tell me how."
"Artima, you don't have to—"
"NOW, Doctor!" Artima stood as tall as she could. "I order you to tell me how."
The Doctor tightened and relaxed his jaw, wiping his hands down his face. He was conflicted; he didn't know what to do. On the one hand, he could save an entire third of a species. On another, he could lose his friend. The Doctor looked at Artima with ancient, sad eyes.
"We'd have to hook you up to the converter. As soon as we press the button your life would leave you and you would die."
"It's a risk I'm willing to take for the sake of my people." She smiled sadly at the Doctor. "Don't look so sad, Doctor. This is what I want. Please help me save my people."
The Doctor turned his head from her before he took the syringe and hooked it up to the device. He stilled his hands when he was left with two wires. He looked up at Artima, but did not look into her eyes.
"It's going to hurt." He murmured, still trying to dissuade her.
"How do I hook it up?" She asked firmly, sitting down next to the machine. The Doctor looked at her sadly before he handed her the wires.
"Hold onto these with all your might and don't let go."
"Hey," Artima said, grabbing the Doctor's jacket so he wouldn't walk away so quickly. "Doctor, please listen to me. You told me I was braver than I thought I was, and you're right. I was a coward before I met you, but I'm strong now. I'm strong enough to do what's right. Don't you dare blame yourself for what I choose to do, Doctor. As their queen, it is my job to do what is right for my people." She smiled softly at him. "I am brave, Doctor."
The Doctor pursed his lips before he brought his hand to the back of her head and kissed her forehead. "You are very brave, Artima."
Artima grinned at him before she looked up at Clara.
"Clara, get him out of here. I can't let him try and stop me. And please," Artima took a deep breath. "Take care of him."
Clara placed a hand on the Doctor's shoulder and nodded at Artima. The Doctor looked completely torn. His ancient features were weathered and worn, as though he had suddenly relived a thousand bad memories.
"Now go!" Artima cried before she pressed the large red button in the middle. The thunder roared furiously, and Artima screamed in pain. The Doctor moved to save her, but Clara pulled on his hand for him to follow. He looked back at her before looking back at Artima.
"I'm sorry!" He cried out. "I'm so sorry!"
The rains fell. For a while, the air was filled with the screams of the Philomites before finally, there was a hush. When the rain stopped, the Doctor did not rejoice. Those who had been saved celebrated with their families, laughter and joy filled the air, but the Doctor did not celebrate. He went back into his Tardis and leaned against the console, staring blankly into the center. Clara closed the door to the Tardis and came up beside him to lean on the console as well.
"She was just a little girl." The Doctor murmured angrily. "And I killed her." He was angry with himself. Clara sighed, looking up at him.
"You didn't kill her. Doctor, she became what she always wanted to be. She became the brave Queen she wanted to be. And she's not dead, not really. Her body is dead, but she passed on her life to thousands of people. She's alive, Doctor. She's alive in everyone that she saved."
The Doctor sighed before he looked over at Clara with a sad smile. "Clara Oswald, what would I do without you?"
Clara grinned and shrugged. "Get into trouble." She tapped his nose before she folded her arms across her chest. "So, chin boy in his snog box once again. Where are we going this time?"
"It's not a snog box." The Doctor said, making a face at her.
"Oh are you sure? I'm sorry; I could have sworn you snogged me back there." Clara's grin was cheeky.
"Well you…" The Doctor pointed at her before he made another face. "You snogged me first!"
"Did not!"
"Did too, it was just another you." He stuck his tongue out at her and she laughed. The Doctor laughed as well, watching her. He loved to make her laugh.
"Excuses! Excuses!" Clara moved a hand over his shoulder and smirked. The Doctor took her hand and kissed the back of it, grateful to have her around.
"Thank you, Clara Oswald." He said suddenly. "For everything."
"There you go being melodramatic again." Clara flicked his nose before she leaned on the console.
"So," She smiled. "Where to next?"
End