Disclaimer: Doctor Who belongs to the BBC. I do not own anything, nor do I get paid for it.

A/N Thanks for the lovely response on the last chapter. I am glad you all liked it.

So, as I mentioned last time, this story is going to be a bit different. It is heavily influenced by two of Eight's audios 'Stones of Venice' and 'The Natural History of Fear'. It will get confusing in places but read all the way through and feel free to ask me to clarify anything that you need to.

Oh, and those of you who know what Saviltride is, it doesn't mean the same thing as it did in 'Zagreus'. I just like the word. If at all possible, try not to let the spoiler out in the reviews since there are many who haven't listened to that audio.

Happy Reading!

The Venetian Tragedy: Everybody's Fool

"The Other," she said, looking straight at him. "It's you, isn't it?"

The Doctor's eyes went wide momentarily before his face hardened. "Rose…"

"Don't," she said. "Don't insult me by lying to me again." He fell silent as she started pacing again. "I should have seen it before. You practically told me but I didn't get it."

"Rose," he said, pleading now as he registered the hurt in her voice.

"What else haven't you told me?" she demanded. "What more do you know about Arkytior and Bad Wolf and Fenric that you don't want me to know?"

"Nothing," he said, looking astonished that she would doubt him now. After all they'd been through together.

Rose shook her head and he was startled to see tears glistening in her eyes. "Why should I believe you?" she asked. "You have kept secrets every step of the way. What reason do I have to believe you?"

The Doctor looked horrified as her face crumpled and tears slid down her cheeks. "Rose," he said, looking deeply ashamed and regretful. "Oh Rose," he said, moving towards her but Rose took a step back, stopping him in his tracks. "Please, Rose, you have to believe me. I never wanted to hurt you. I only wanted to protect you, I wanted to keep you safe. My darling Rose, I would never…"

Duchess Jessamine Celandine sniffed a little as she turned the page over. As much fun as it was to read about the Doctor and Rose's adventures, she never liked it when they fought. They were so in love, it would be easy for anyone with half a brain to see it.

Though she was on Rose's side this time. She deserved to know everything that the Doctor had been hiding from her. It was only fair.

She was about to start reading again, eager to know what happened next when there came a knock on her chamber doors. She set her bookmark between the pages of the book as her maid Rina opened the door. Judging by the way Rina sank into a bow, the Duchess guessed that it must be her husband.

Sure enough, a tall, broad-shouldered man entered her chamber bearing a smile and a bouquet of delicate white roses. The Duchess got to her feet and bestowed him with a charming smile.

"Good evening, my love," he greeted as he handed her the roses. "For you."

The Duchess accepted them and handed them off to Rina before placing a loving kiss on her husband's lips. "How was the meeting with the Council?" she asked as the two of them sat down at the table that had been set for their supper.

"Tedious as ever," he said as Rina and two other maids served them some steaming hot soup and poured wine into crystal goblets. "Some days, I wonder if it would be easier to abdicate my position."

"Nonsense, my love," said the Duchess with practised ease. "You are the best person to rule Venice. You have always been, and you shall always be. No one else is capable of doing what you do."

The Duke smiled at her, his silver-grey eyes softening as he did. She always knew the right thing to say to him. He was ever so grateful to have her. Especially since he had her back after so long. "How are you feeling today?" he asked in concern.

"I am absolutely fine," said the Duchess with a smile. "Truly, I am. Just give me a day or two and I shall even be well enough to venture outside the palace walls again."

The Duke's face darkened. "There will be no need for that," he said sternly. "I am not having you step outside the palace walls. Not when I just have you back."

The Duchess sighed and placed a soothing hand on his arm. "You can't keep coddling me, darling. I have to venture out sooner or later. I refuse to stay inside like a coward."

"No one doubts your bravery, my love," he said, trying to make her understand. "But what if it happens again? What if I cannot save you this time? What shall become of me without you?"

"Hush now, my love," she said as she got up from her place and walked over to his side to wrap her arms around him.

He rested his head on her bosom, taking in ragged breaths as he tried to maintain his composure. The servants left the chambers discreetly as the Duchess ran a soothing hand through the Duke's hair. "I'm here," she murmured. "I am not going anywhere. You have me here. Forever, just as I promised."

The Duke looked up at her and gave a watery smile. He had barely lived in the time that she was gone, and now that he had her back, he never ever intended to let her go. He let her sweet floral smell and wondrous smile comfort him as he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly.

She was his, and no one would take her away again.

Jarrett Vincent was counting the credits with well-practiced ease. Saviltride was a wonderful time of the year for his business. A full 45 days when couples were not permitted to copulate, meaning that practically every married and courting couple bought flowers in copious amounts to appease their spouses.

An hour ago, he'd even had the Duke's personal servant from the palace come in and buy the very expensive white roses. That sale alone would have covered his daily profit, but he kept the store open till the usual closing time.

"Evening Jarrett," Nolan from three shops over greeted him as he walked through Jarrett's flower shop. "Closing shop?"

"Yes," answered Jarrett, not even stumbling through his counting. "Got some white carnations left if you want to take them for your missus."

"No, she's allergic," he said mournfully. "I hate Saviltride. You're so lucky you don't have a wife, Jarrett."

"I don't think there's a woman in Venice who could tempt me to settle down, Nolan," said Jarrett with a laugh as he put away the credits into a box and triple locked it.

"Oh, I remember being your age. I used to be just like you. And I should have stayed that way," grumbled Nolan.

Jarrett managed not to roll his eyes but just barely. Fortunately he was prevented from having to respond as a man in priest's garb entered the shop. "Evening, Provost Errapel," he greeted politely.

"Evening, Jarrett, Nolan," said the Provost with a polite nod. "How much for the carnations, Jarrett?"

"Courting someone, Provost?" joked Nolan.

"No, as a matter of fact," said the Provost, a cool look in his blue-green eyes. "I am having them sent over at the hospital so that Wilson Fontaine's wife has some comfort while her husband fights for his life in the ICU."

Nolan flushed and looked down in shame. Jarrett plucked the white carnations from their vase and tied the stems with a ribbon. "Here, Provost," said Jarrett politely. "Free of charge."

The Provost looked at Jarrett and nodded back. "Thank you, Jarrett. I shall remember this," he said.

"Not at all," said Jarrett, though secretly proud of having pleased the dour priest.

The Provost took the flowers and left the shop after nodding at the two of them. As soon as he was gone, Nolan scowled at Jarrett. "What a bastard," he said. "Who does he think he is?"

"He's the Provost," said Jarrett. "Show some respect, Nolan."

"I'll show him respect when he starts showing some," said Nolan darkly. "Don't you think something's off about him?"

"Like what?" asked Jarrett.

"Like he's so young," said Nolan. "And the way he looks. Who has hair that long? Present company excluded, of course."

Jarrett ran a hand through his long, black hair and did not comment. His hair was definitely not as long as Provost Errapel's long, curly brown hair. "Appearance has nothing to do with it, Nolan," he said, slightly coolly.

"Fine," said Nolan sulkily. "But the way he looks at me creeps me out. Like he knows something about me that I don't."

"Don't be ridiculous, Nolan," said Jarrett. "He's a priest. He may come off as a bit stand-offish but from what I have heard, he has done more for Venice since he has arrived than what was being done before."

"Ah yes, I forgot you two arrived around the same time," said Nolan. "Well, you came at the right time, I tell you. The Duchess was found around then, and things in Venice have been much better since she's been found. The Duke has been mellower in his punishments and ordinary folks like us haven't had to pay more taxes to fund the troops to look for her."

"No one talks about what happened to her," said Jarrett.

"That's 'cos no one knows what happened," said Nolan, always eager to gossip. "Everyone's just glad she has been found."

"How long was she gone?" asked Jarrett.

"Don't know, really," said Nolan. "Feels like forever. Or so it felt like while I was paying the extra taxes."

He laughed heartily at his poor joke, and Jarrett forced a smile. "Right then, that's me done. See you tomorrow, Nolan," said Jarrett as he picked up the box with the credits.

"Goodbye, Jarrett."

"...and have it taken to Wilson Fontaine's wife," the Provost told his assistant. "Make sure she knows that we are all praying for his recovery."

"Yes Provost," agreed the young lad as he toddled off towards the hospital with the carnations.

The Provost sighed to himself and looked at the next thing to do on his list. There, written plainly in his own hand, was Attend the Duchess' Party.

In all honesty, the Provost had not met the Duchess personally yet. She had been found only a day after he had come to Venice. The Duke had made the announcement of her return but she was yet to make a proper public appearance. The Duke was being very careful with her security, which the Provost could understand.

He had seen portraits of the Duchess though, and had he not been a man of cloth, he would have envied the Duke for having such a lovely wife. She was younger than the Duke, had golden blonde hair, and eyes that seemed to sparkle even in those lifeless portraits. The Provost prided himself as being above the superficial ideas of beauty but something about the Duchess was captivating.

That was why he was dreading actually meeting her. Reality rarely ever lived up to imagination, and he didn't want to be disappointed if the Duchess was nothing like he thought she was. With another tired sigh, the Provost closed his appointment book and decided to retire for the night.

He could worry about the Duchess later.

That night, as was the norm for all nights of Saviltride, couples retired to separate beds all across Venice. The Duchess said goodnight to her husband and then let Rina run her a bath before bed. Once she had finished bathing, she got Rina to brush her hair and then dismissed her for the night.

Nights during Saviltride were often warmer, so the door to the balcony in her chambers was ajar to let the breeze in. The delicate silk curtains blew lazily in the wind and the Duchess chanced a quick look at the night sky.

The stars were all but invisible from Earth these days. Too much industrialisation, even if Venice was kept safe from all of that. The best thing that her husband's father, the late Duke of Venice, had done was separating Venice from the rest of the European nations. Theirs was a small but powerful country, where trade, art and philosophy flourished. Just like it had in history.

Jessamine was proud of being the Duchess of this wonderful place. She couldn't exactly remember what had happened when she was taken away, but the doctors had said that it was a matter of retrograde amnesia. She would remember in time, but she wasn't certain if she wanted to remember it. One day, she had been walking through the town square and the next, she remembered waking up in the palace, and being told that she had been missing for years until her husband had found her again.

It was jarring, to say the least. She didn't like to dwell upon it though, and had thrown herself right back into her duties. Tomorrow, she would be hosting a ball for the dignitaries. She had been planning for days now.

Deciding that she really did need sleep, she retired to her bedchamber and got into bed. The lights dimmed, and the Duchess sunk into sleep.

Across town, Jarrett made sure that he had his inventory done right. He had to be delivering flowers to the palace for the Duchess' party tomorrow, and it was bound to be a busy day.

In his modest priest's quarters, Provost Errapel said his nightly prayers and retired to bed.

Unbeknownst to the three of them, they each had the same dream that night.

"So, this is Venice in the 26th century?" asked Rose as they walked out of the TARDIS.

"Looks a bit old, doesn't it?" asked Fitz, remembering that they had been to the 26th century before but it had been America instead.

"They got into a fight with the rest of Europe over the over-industrialisation in the region. In a fit of anger, their Duke cordoned off Venice from the rest of Italy and Europe. Industry here has almost returned to late eighteenth, early nineteenth century quality," explained the Doctor.

"But look at the trade," said Rose, glancing around the marketplace that was bustling with people.

"Oh yes, it is flourishing," said the Doctor with a nod. "They cut back on technology and started encouraging trade and art instead. It has worked to some extent, but history says that it will soon be changing."

"Let me guess, we will be responsible for changing it," said Fitz with a sigh.

The Doctor grinned at him. "I have absolutely no idea, Fitz. This universe is new to me, remember? For all I know, us being here will do nothing."

"Fat chance of that, Doctor," said Fitz. "So, where do you want to go first?"

"Oi, you two! Look at this!" called Rose.

She had been standing in front of a beautiful old building while the Doctor and Fitz had been talking, and as the two of them walked over to her they saw what had made her sound so alarmed.

Her Royal Highness Duchess Jessamine Celandine Exhibition read the banner and underneath it was a portrait of the Duchess herself.

"Wow," said Fitz. "You could be twins."

"I know, right?" asked Rose. "She looks like I did when I was about nineteen. How is that possible?"

The Doctor raised his eyebrows. "It's curious," he said. "Spatial genetic multiplicity could explain it, though it is rare to happen across universes. Whoever she is, she's not you."

"I should hope not," said Rose, looking a bit unnerved at the sight of the portrait. "Don't wanna be carted off as her now, do I?"

The dream always ended right there. And come morning, all three of them forgot it completely.

A/N End of Part 1. So, what did you think?

This story will have some religious themes, and I will try and stay as respectful as possible but the religion in question will be a made up one that just derives its roots from Christianity. If it is something that offends you, do let me know.

Anyway, you can make up your mind about who the three people are. The next part will be up soon.

In other news, I just started a new story. It's called 'Battle in the Sky' and is a fix-it fic for the Time War, the 50th anniversary and Eleven's regeneration. EightxRose does feature heavily in it, so check it out if you want to.

See you soon!