I've had a large portion of this written for months. I originally intended for it to take place before HN but then I realized it would be better if it happened afterwards. You'll see why.
Beta'ed by whoinwhoville.
When Rose opened her eyes the first thing she saw was a mop of brown hair. She blinked and glanced down. The Doctor's body was curled around her and his head was resting against her chest. He appeared to be sleeping. She started to shift into a more comfortable position but his arms tightened around her. He was awake after all.
"Don't move," he whispered. She settled back down. "I'm listening to your heart."
She smiled and slowly ran her fingers through his hair. He made a quiet noise of contentment. After a few minutes of this, he began to tap out the beat of her heart on her back. Tap-tap. Tap-tap. Then he changed it up. Alternating between two fingers, he tapped out a new beat. Tap-tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap-tap. She tried to figure out why that was so familiar.
"Is that yours?" she asked softly.
He nodded and replied at the same volume, "Identical to yours, just doubled."
The Doctor tilted his head and smiled at her, stretching up to press a gentle kiss to her lips. "Morning," he whispered after. "If you're all done sleeping, we should get up."
"Mmm, I think I want to stay in bed."
He rolled his eyes. "You and your sleep."
"Who said anything about sleeping?"
He chuckled quietly and kissed her once more, briefly, then sat up. She let out a whimper of protest.
"Hey—"
"As much as I'd like to stay, the TARDIS has informed me that Martha is awake and would very much like to regain the use of her hands. There was also something about relocating you and the bed if I didn't go now."
She blew a puff of air through her lips.
He leaned back down and kissed her forehead. "Sleep as long as you want, but don't forget, we do have somewhere to be and as I recall, you still don't know where it is."
She frowned. "You cheated."
"'All's fair in love and war,'" he quoted.
She stuck her tongue out at him then rolled over. He chuckled quietly then quickly gathered his clothes, got dressed, and headed out of the room. She waited until he was gone then sighed heavily and stretched her entire body. She sat up and massaged the crick out of her neck.
After a quick shower, she joined them in the infirmary. Martha was sitting in the exam chair with both her hands unbound and the Doctor was having her do certain movements and motions with her hands. She glanced up at Rose, smiled, and waved, wiggling her fingers all around.
"So how's it lookin'?" Rose asked.
"Motor functions seem mostly back to normal, and nerves are responding appropriately. Really, the only lasting damage are the scars, but they'll fade over time." He patted Martha's arm. "Meanwhile, I recommend you come up with a good explanation."
"What? 'Alien coppers tried to arrest me' isn't good enough?"
"Well, if you wanna get sectioned…"
They ate breakfast and Martha delighted in being able to feed herself once more. Then she went to shower ("Dress for warm weather!" the Doctor ordered) and Rose went to change out of her track pants into a denim skirt with black knee-length leggings that went with her light pink t-shirt.
An hour later when they'd landed, Rose opened the door eagerly to see this planet he had refused to tell her about.
There was pink everywhere. The blossoms on the trees and bushes, the grass, the moss on the rocks, and even the bark was tinged pink. They'd landed on a small island in the middle of a large pond surrounded by many similar islands. Each were connected to each other by small bridges that seemed to be part of the land itself. There was a light mist in the air and the water in the pond (slightly pink) rippled subtly. Below the surface they glimpsed a pair of yellow fish zip by.
"It's so…pink." Martha remarked after a moment.
"It's spring time," the Doctor explained behind them. They stepped out of the TARDIS and he shut the door behind them. He spun around in a circle, admiring the place. "Everything here blooms pink and as they mature they change to the proper color. In two months time this place will be every color of the rainbow, in dozens of shades. Look, see?" he pointed. "Those flowers are already turning purple."
"It's beautiful," Rose sighed. "But there's nothing here."
"Oh, I wouldn't say there's nothing." He raised his voice and called out, "Hello there! Sorry for the scare. We come in peace."
Rose followed his gaze over to a large white flower a few islands away. It was about the size of a human, had a dark green stem that paled towards the top, and white blossoms that cascaded down the front oddly, and—hang on. Were those clothes? For a moment it remained completely still. And then from what she had thought to be the back of the stem, two eyes appeared. Then she noticed a squashed nose and a mouth parted beneath it. Two arms detached themselves from the main stem and the bottom split into two legs.
"A Faloran," the Doctor explained.
"Spell that," Martha ordered.
"F-a-l-o-r-a-n."
She mouthed it to herself for a moment. "Oh. I thought it sounded familiar. Flora, like flowers."
"Exactly. The added 'a' is to distinguish them from non-sentient plant life."
The Faloran seemed to glide across the ground. At first Rose thought it was female since it was wearing a skirt the exact shade of the petals, which she now realized were more like hair, but on closer inspection she realized it was a male. Apart from the skirt he wore a sash across one shoulder that covered most of his front.
He stopped on the bridge between the next island and theirs. "Strangers," he greeted in a light timbre.
"Hello!" the Doctor chirped. "I apologize for the scare but do your people trade with off-worlders?"
Trade? Rose looked at him in surprise.
The Faloran considered them for a moment. "Yes. But could you please move your ship out of this area?"
"If he tries to move it out of the area he'll probably wind up on the next planet over," Rose said, much to the Doctor's chagrin. "Is there a problem?"
"Today we celebrate Sorkora. Some of festivities tonight will take place along these islands. We are in the middle of preparations."
The Doctor's eyes lit up. "Really?"
"What's Sorkora?" Rose asked.
"It's a holiday," the Doctor explained. "Today is the exact middle of spring. It's a celebration of new things and remembrance of old ones." He looked at them thoughtfully then asked the Faloran, "I don't suppose outsiders can participate?"
"I…am just an apprentice decorator," he said. "I-I'm not allowed to make such calls. Unless—forgive me for assuming—but you look human."
"We are," Rose said. Not all of us, thank God, she silently added.
"Then, yes, you are welcome." He smiled friendlily. "Humans are always welcome here. Your ship, though, it's really in the way."
The Doctor rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I'll tell you what. If you tell us how to get to the town then you can decorate her. No paint or anything, but if you'd like to put flowers or vines around the outsides, then by all means."
He considered the proposition then moved to inspect the TARDIS up close. He walked around the sides, looking at the top, and feeling the exterior. He seemed surprise to discover it was made of wood but the same realization seemed to be enough to convince him. He turned back to the travelers. "You're in the town outskirts right now," he said. "You said you were looking to trade? And if you wish to participate I think you should wear the appropriate dress. You'll want our mercantile islands. I can lead you there. I need to find my master and inform him of the new addition, anyway." He eyed the TARDIS again.
"You're a slave?" Martha asked in surprise.
The Faloran was baffled. "Slave?"
"He's an apprentice," the Doctor corrected. "He's training to be a decorator. By 'master' he means 'teacher.'"
She nodded, looking relieved.
They accepted his offer and he introduced himself as Cloud. They followed him across the tiny islands and bridges towards the quite hum of voices they could hear. The Doctor asked him questions like what title he was hoping to be given (Painter), what year it was for them, what the village was called, and what kind of flower he was descended from, which lead to Rose asking what he was talking about.
Cloud and all the people on this planet were descendants of a race created by fusing flower and human DNA in order to preserve aspects of Earth. They were much like Jabe, the Tree woman they had met on Platform One, from the Forest of Cheem. She had been a descendant of the original experiments. Both experimental races had been given their own planets made similarly to Earth. Unlike the Trees, this lot mostly kept to themselves, rarely venturing beyond the planet, never colonizing, but welcoming to outsiders, particularly humans, as they shared the same DNA.
"Most villages have a standard trading system in place for visitors. There's a monetary system for the locals but for outsiders like us they usually barter. I brought a lot of fruit, among other things. They love fruit."
"You know much about us," Cloud said.
"I know a lot about many things."
"What's your name?"
"Oh, sorry! I'm the Doctor, and this is Martha and Rose."
Cloud turned in surprise. "Your name is Rose? But that is a type of flower."
"I know a lot of humans named after flowers. It's really common."
"Oh."
The entire village was built on islands in the middle of a large lake. The outer islands were further apart and connected by little bridges like the ones out where the TARDIS had landed. As they grew closer to the center of the village the space between islands decreased and the water became shallow enough that if someone wished to, one could hop or step through the water. Buildings started popping up, usually one on a smaller island, maybe two, and up to five on the larger islands.
It was obvious on sight that while they were accustomed to alien visitors, the people here never ventured beyond their planet. There was almost no metal or steel anywhere. Everything was made of mud, grass, wood, and stone, held together with twine, vine, and twig. The denizens were descendants of genetic experiments who traded with off-worlders so there had to be technology somewhere, just not out in the open.
The roads were unpaved but smooth from generations of feet treading the same paths. Where the roads ended, soft grass and moss provided a clear border and for the most part remained untrampled. Rose saw a recent set of footprints in the dirt and glanced at Cloud's feet. They were mostly the same shape, although where there would be toes, his slanted into a point, like elf shoes in Christmas drawings. The point curved slightly indicating that it could be used for some sort of grip. She looked at his hands curiously. Four fingers and a thumb on each, but the tips were pointed much like his feet, but without the added curl.
He really did seem to be a perfect blend of a human man and a white lily. Where he should have had hair, there were layers of long white petals, like those of a lily, which fell to mid-back. Looking around at the other Falorans (who were staring at their guests with interest) she saw they were all much the same. Their skin color varied in shades of greens and whites, and there were dozens of different petals and patterns, but they all looked like blooming flowers.
"Are they blooming?" she asked the Doctor.
"Yes," he said, pleased.
Martha looked around thoughtfully. "Don't some flowers bloom in different seasons? How can they all be blooming?"
"It was considered to be something that could cause discrimination," he replied. "The scientists played around with the genetics so everyone would bloom in spring. Their petals will continue to grow until they reach a certain length, and then they'll stay the same until early autumn when it starts getting cold. Then their hair will start to grow in quickly, usually the same colors and patterns as their petals, and the petals will fall out. They spend the winter looking mostly human. Then as it starts to get warm, their petals will start to grow and their hair is assimilated into them. It's quite an interesting process that—"
"Are you a scholar?" Cloud interrupted, glancing at him.
The Doctor smiled. "Yes, I suppose you could say that. Planet-bound you may be, but your people are an important part of history. All of you," he added when he noticed the disbelief on the young Faloran's face. "Even decorators. Especially decorators. You're job is to make ordinary things beautiful. Life would be boring with beauty, don't you think?"
You did it again, Rose thought with a small smile. Made someone who'd probably never considered himself special beam with pride. She loved him for it.
After giving them directions to a shop he knew selling the appropriate attire for the occasion, Cloud disappeared inside a cabin, presumably to speak to his master. The three of them headed off in the direction of the shop Cloud had spoken of. It was round and made of sturdy stone—a sign of wealth, according to the Doctor—painted a beautiful shade of sky blue.
The door was open, inviting, and the Doctor's head accidentally bumped the tiny bell above it, announcing their presence. He rubbed his forehead sourly.
"Be right with you!" a female voice called from the back.
The shop was comprised of one large room with a doorway in the back that led elsewhere. The room was filled with racks and shelves of clothes—dresses, skirts, trousers, shorts, sashes, wraps, and shirts—every color and shade of the rainbow. The right corner of the room was sectioned off by several curtains and looked like a changing room.
A Faloran woman emerged from the back doorway a moment later. Her body was dark, greenish brown, that faded to pale near her head just like all the others, and her petals were layered thickly and orange around her head and a bright yellow the rest of the way. The dress she wore matched her petals, a thick, yet elegant skirt made from layers of silk, a tight fitting orange bodice, and matching bell sleeves with a split that ran from the shoulder, ending just before the hem.
Her eyes widened when they found her customers. "Oh!"
"Hello." Rose waved.
"Humans? Are you here to celebrate Sorkora?"
"I guess we are."
"Well, then, you'll all be needing dresses, of course."
"Ah, not me. I'm fine." The Doctor held up his hands quickly. "But could you give me directions? I me særto gon fyu. Wihæk yâu sols ek fralïlaæc?"
Rose blinked in surprise at the sudden block in her mind. It was tiny, so small she wouldn't have probably noticed it if the Doctor hadn't stopped speaking English at the exact same time. She glanced at Martha but she was just as confused, especially when the Faloran's reply was also in the wrong language. She and the Doctor talked back and forth for a moment, neither seeming to be aware that the two humans were at a loss, until Rose poked him sharply in the ribs.
"Will you speak English?" she demanded.
He grinned unapologetically. "Sorry, but it was a secret. You'll see. Sun Weaver will help you both find something to wear and I'll be back soon."
Rose frowned. "Where are you going?"
"Secret!" He repeated then turned back to the Faloran woman, Sun Weaver, and pulled a brown paper bag from his pocket. She retrieved a bowl from behind the counter and he dumped about ten pieces of fruit into it. He started talking in the Faloran's language again, gesturing to each piece of fruit in turn while the shopkeeper listened intently, occasionally lifting one to inspect and sniffing it.
Rose had her hands on her hips and Martha folded her arms, both of them quickly fed up with the gibberish.
She felt the block in her mind disappear and exhaled in relief. "Two dresses, five pieces each." Sun Weaver said and she and the Doctor shook hands. She carried the bowl into the back.
Rose waited until she was out of sight then grabbed the Doctor by his tie and pulled him down to eye-level. He went without protest.
"I don't appreciate that."
"I told you it's a se—"
"It felt like someone slipped a wall between me an' the TARDIS. Don't do it again."
He made a face. "Sorry. I didn't think about how it might feel to you."
"I didn't feel anything," Martha piped. "You all just stopped makin' sense."
"That's how it should've been." The Doctor pointed to her. "I'll be back later. Wish me luck!"
"Um, good luck?" Rose laughed unsurely, eyebrows raised. "But where are you going?"
He grinned, kissed her once on the lips, then whisked out of the shop.
Rose watched him leave and when she turned back, Sun Weaver was staring at her curiously. "He is your husband?"
"Well, no. Not technically."
"But you are courting." It wasn't a question.
"Suppose so."
She nodded. "Well, I am Sun Weaver. You are…?"
"I'm Martha," the med student greeted. "This is Rose."
"Rose? But that is a flower." She cocked her head like the very notion was baffling to her.
"I'm gonna get that a lot today, aren't I?" Rose sighed and glanced at Martha. "Good job your name's not Lily or somethin'."
Sun Weaver looked her up and down, tapping her top lip. "Perhaps…no, no. I do not think you should dress as a rose." She circled them both, looking up and down thoughtfully.
"What do you mean?"
"It is custom during our festivals for us to dress as the flower we are descended from. Outsiders who join in are free to choose whichever flower they wish. Dressing you as a rose would be boring and predictable. Well, good thing we have plenty of time!"
She stepped back and gestured to the desk where a single, thick book sat waiting. "Feel free to browse! I have something for all the flowers in there.
Nothing with a lot of foofaraw, they both agreed on that straight off. They flitted through the pages, choosing the flowers they thought pretty while Sun Weaver moved around the racks, selecting the appropriate dresses. Then she showed them to the changing rooms. They took turns coming out to look at themselves in the full-length mirror and receive opinions from the other, as well as Sun Weaver, who also told them what flower the dress was based off of. They were all Earth flowers, too. Some from Rose and Martha's time, they recognized those names, and some came from millennia after. Rose favored bright colors, nothing too vibrant, and particularly pastels. Martha stuck to more darker, muted colored dresses.
Rose found one based off a light blue daisy that she really liked. Sun Weaver nodded, lips pressed together. "It does look good on you," she decided after a moment. "That shade compliments your hair."
Martha tilted her head thoughtfully. "She's right. Put that aside as a definite maybe."
In the end the dress that earned approval all around was a strapless number based off hollyhock. Simply pretty and not extravagant, like Rose herself, Sun Weaver declared as they stood in front of the mirror.
Rose turned from side to side. The dress was pale yellow, strapless, and fell to her knees. It flared slightly just below her waist where the white sash would be tied. From there the bottom of the dress was light, a thin layer of silky fabric that fluttered as she turned this way and that. It hugged her curves but didn't cling and the color complimented the light tan she'd developed over the past month, as well as her hair.
"It looks better than the blue daisy," Martha piped up from the corner. Rose glanced at her in the mirror. "You should definitely go with that one." She smiled then retreated behind the privacy curtain to finish changing.
Rose ran her hands over her ribcage then down her skirt. She turned from side to side again, watching the bottoms swish.
Sun Weaver seemed to sense that Rose had made up her mind and stepped up behind her, sliding the white sash around her waist. She tied it in an intricate knot at the small of her back and adjusted the train. It looked nice with the dress, but the more she thought about it, she knew the white sash would probably only cause trouble. Really, the Doctor could be a jealous sod sometimes. She hadn't forgotten the time he'd pouted at the tabby cat because she had complimented it and not him.
Would it be such a big deal if she wore purple?
But Sun Weaver would have none of it. "You are not married, you wear white. Besides, I have no shades of purple left that would match and this dress looks simply stunning on you. Martha," she called, "I can tell you are done in there."
Martha emerged from behind the curtain and smiled timidly before twirling. The dress was black with deep burgundy accents. With a smooth halter-top, it clung to her body, flaring slightly at her hips to give her room to maneuver. The front ended just above her knees and in the back continued down to her calves, ending in curled point.
"Black calla lily," Sun Weaver murmured. She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Pretty, not flashy. Come look at yourself."
Rose got out of the way so Martha could have room in front of the mirror. She watched her friend twist and spin and smile at her reflection. It was a very nice dress. Simple but elegant, the kind that would cause gazes to linger but not turn heads; would make her seem beautiful but not draw attention to herself. It fit Martha's personality.
"I like it," Martha said.
Rose frowned. It did fit her personality… a little too well. Almost perfectly, really. Martha spent so much time unnoticed whether she wanted to be or not. Rose was not an idiot, she knew Martha purposefully made herself invisible or scarce all the time for her and the Doctor. She'd nearly lost her hands yesterday because she had been trying to give them space! Rose very much enjoyed time with just the Doctor, but Martha didn't deserve to be so completely and utterly regulated to third wheel status. Well, it wasn't happening today.
Somehow Sun Weaver seemed to follow Rose's train of thought again. "Tell me, Rose, does your friend often resign herself to plain or dark colors?"
"All the time."
"I suspected as much. We'll have to do something about it."
Martha looked between them nervously. "What?"
Sun Weaver marched into the changing area and came back out with every single dress, including the ones Martha had yet to try. Rose noted that all of them were dark or muted and simple. Then the Faloran shoved Martha back in there and ordered her to hand over the dress. Rose perched on the stool and flipped through the book for ideas. Sun Weaver joined her a moment later and they quickly chose a small list of bright and vibrant flowers that they thought would look good on Martha.
She flitted around her shop, pulling dresses from the wracks and folding them over her arm. Martha's head stuck out from behind the curtain and watched apprehensively, her eyes widening at all the bright colors and intricate designs. She balked when she was presented with twenty dresses based on several types of orchids, roses, dahlias, tulips, pansies, peonies; a hydrangea, an iris, a lavender, and a marigold. But it was two to one and since Sun Weaver had also removed Martha's regular clothes from the room, she had no choice but to try them on.
The marigold and dahlias were deemed too much, the pansies and lavender too simple, the peonies too bright or pale. Martha and Rose turned their noses up at the orchids and iris. They laughed at the rose dresses and mutually vetoed them, though Sun Weaver didn't see the problem since Rose wasn't actually a rose. There was a blue hydrangea dress she really liked but agreed that it didn't go well with her skin.
"I really did like the calla lily dress," she said as Sun Weaver went to look for more dresses.
The Faloran woman considered her for a moment then started searching with the determination of someone after something specific. A moment later she plucked an orange gown from among the other calla lilies and carried it over. Martha accepted it with more enthusiasm than she had with the others and disappeared behind the curtain.
Rose and Sun Weaver exchanged smug looks. A minute later Martha reappeared wearing the dress. It, like the other one, was simple yet elegant and hugged her upper body enticingly. Where the other dress had been black and red, this was orange and yellow. It complimented her skin tone rather nicely and would definitely cause heads to turn.
She bit her lip nervously and stepped in front of the mirror. They waited quietly while she examined herself, turning from side to side and shifting her body around to test the feel.
"Well?" Rose finally asked.
Martha looked at her. "Isn't it a bit much?"
"Uh, remember the dahlia dresses? Those were a bit much."
"Some of the dahlia-descended agree with you," Sun Weaver said offhandedly. "Martha, it's not too much. The other dress matched you hair, yes, but you looked like a shadow and you would be easily lost among them. But in this you stand out and you look absolutely gorgeous. You should definitely pick this one."
Rose nodded enthusiastically.
Martha pursed her lips thoughtfully and looked at herself in the mirror again. "Alright," she decided. "This one, then."
Sun Weaver produced another white sash and tied it around Martha's waist.
Naturally, they thought shoes would be the next things to locate, but Sun Weaver just shook her head. Shoes were for the colder months only. They would be better going barefoot like everyone else. They might get people staring at their feet but they were used to being stared at on alien planets.
The Doctor wasn't back yet so she offered to help them fix their hair. She braided Rose's hair across her head in a headband and left the rest down. Martha's hair proved more difficult to work with and Sun Weaver was baffled by the strange texture. Martha waited patiently while she ran it through her fingers and tested the durability and strength of it. When she was done with her inspection, she twisted two small braids across the top of Martha's head then pulled the rest into a low bun at the nape of her neck.
Sun Weaver stood back to admire them both. "You look stunning. No one will be able to take their eyes off you."
Rose smiled wryly. "Not just because we're human?"
"Not just because you are human," she agreed.
From outside, the sounds of merriment were beginning to grow. They could hear the hum of voices in conversation and the fresh laughs of children. A few men passed by the door talking loudly over each other. A band had struck up a song somewhere not too far away and their festive music made Rose's foot tap to the beat before she even realized what she was doing. Every so often there were a few loud pops nearby that sounded like something from a carnival game.
Martha looked at the door thoughtfully. "Do you think we should go out or wait 'til he gets back?"
"What's takin' him so long, anyway?" Rose glanced at Sun Weaver. "What did he ask you?"
She shook her head. "He asked me not to say." But a smile was tugging at her lips.
The Doctor finally turned up a few minutes later with a satisfied smile on his face. It quickly shifted into one of shock, and then delight when he saw them. He hugged Rose, nuzzling her cheek with his nose. "You're beautiful," he told her quietly before turning to Martha. "And you…wow."
Martha looked down shyly.
"I mean that in a good way!" he promised quickly. "I've just never seen you wear anything that…bright."
"Exactly," said Rose.
Sun Weaver chuckled quietly.
The Doctor smiled. "Teamed up on you, did they? Don't worry—you look beautiful. Shall we?" he held out his arms.
Rose slid her arm through his. "Are you coming out, Sun Weaver?"
"In a few minutes. I have to finish putting away these dresses."
"D'you want a hand?"
"No, no. Go out and enjoy Sorkora." She smiled kindly. "It will not take me long."
"Alright. Thank you for your help."
"Yes, thank you." Martha agreed.
Sun Weaver handed over their old clothes, which the Doctor tucked into his pocket, then demanded he remove his shoes as well. At first he tried to protest, then Martha reminded him of the time he was barefoot on the moon, and Rose started listing all the other times he'd gone barefoot. So, with a sigh, he pulled off his socks and trainers, tucking them into his pocket, and then Sun Weaver bowed them out of the shop.
Outside, the midday events of Sorkora were in full swing. Stalls and tables lined the streets with food to eat, trinkets to buy, and games to play set out on them. Most of the food was free, as were all of the games, but none of the trinkets. Fortunately, the Doctor had stopped at their equivalent of a bank on the way back and traded the remaining fruit for the local currency.
The food stalls had a variety of fruits, vegetables, nuts, and meats for people to sample. "They eat fruits and vegetables?" Martha whispered in shock.
"Why wouldn't they?" the Doctor muttered back.
"They're plants!"
"And you're a mammal but that doesn't stop you from eating steak."
The games were very similar to those found in carnivals around the universe. Things like knocking over bottles, tossing darts, wheel spins, plucking wooden balls with numbers carved into the bottom from a small pool. Then, of course, there were plenty they didn't recognize. A game where you had to spin two wheels and try to get them to land on the same color, one to see who could make the longest braid in a certain amount of time, and out on the islands near the TARDIS: a tree-climbing race, island hopping, and swimming.
The trinket stalls had a variety of jewelry and baubles, bits of clothing, toys, and hairpieces. They found one stall that did face and body art. Rose got an intricate swirling design painted along the side of her face in shimmering gold. Martha asked for her tattoo to be traced in the same shade of gold. When they were done, they looked at the Doctor expectantly, but he refused.
There didn't seem to be any other humans around and so they got a lot of stares, as predicted. The Falorans that wore attire similar to Martha or Rose's beamed or smiled smugly when they saw what they were wearing, but no one could understand what the Doctor was dressed as. A tulip woman came up and asked him if he was dressed as one of the Trees. He laughed until he realized she was serious and then he explained that he wasn't dressed as anything.
Rose elbowed him after she left. "See? Shoulda dressed properly."
He looked at the Falorans around them for a moment and then shook his head. "You've already got me barefoot. I'm keepin' me suit."
The next time the Doctor's back was turned, Rose muttered in Martha's ear. "Bet you I can get him in somethin' festive within the hour."
Martha laughed quietly. "That's a sucker's bet."
The first challenge was to find something worth convincing him over. She browsed through one of the stalls selling clothes and found a shoulder sash like all the men were wearing that the vendor said was based off a rose. She grinned mischievously and forked over some money for it then went back to the Doctor with the garment hidden behind her back.
The fact that she was hiding something was blatantly obvious and it got his attention immediately, just like she expected.
"What have you got there?"
"Secret," she replied.
The Doctor arched his eyebrows and tried to dart around her to have a look but she was expecting that and she danced neatly out of the way.
She wagged a finger at him. "Ah, ah, ah. I don't think so. You've been keeping a secret from me all day. I'm allowed one of my own." He frowned, looking very much like a kicked puppy. "Besides, you wouldn't be interested in it, anyway."
Martha made a show of looking behind Rose's back and then shook her head. "Nah, not at all."
He eyed them suspiciously. "Alright, what are you up to?"
The two women exchanged conspiratorial looks then Rose sprang forward and slung the sash over his head. "What in—?" he yelped, looking at it wildly for a moment. Then he sighed. "Rose…" But he still slipped his arm though it obediently and let her settle it around his torso. "And what was the point of putting me in this inane thing?"
She smiled. "Now you look festive."
"I look silly."
"It's supposed to be a rose…and I already paid for it," she wheedled. "Please?" She gave him the best puppy-eyed, pleading look she could, rocking from foot to foot, and rested her chin on his shoulder. It was her greatest weapon. He'd never been able to resist before.
The Doctor glanced down at it again and after a long moment he surrendered with a sigh. "Alright, I'll wear it."
Rose beamed.
As the sun sank lower in the sky, the festivities seemed to shift. The stalls began to clear away their wares and replaced with trays and bowls of food. Not the snacks from earlier, but food fit for a feast. Naturally, Rose asked the Doctor what was going on but admitted that he didn't know all of the particulars of Sorkora. So they asked the nearest Faloran—an older lotus woman who was adjusting a platter of smoked vegetables—about it.
Sorkora was divided into four parts, one for each season, starting at sunrise. First came Spring, during which time the town was decorated and set up and families ate a meal together. The trio had arrived near the end of this phase. At midday, summer began, and it was essentially a town-wide fair. Then during the late afternoon were the preparations for autumn, which began promptly at sunset, and was a large community feast and dance. Winter began near midnight and everyone slept out under the stars, snuggled together to share warmth.
"And this is autumn now?" Rose asked.
"Very nearly," the lotus woman replied. "We're almost done setting up. When you hear the music start again then you'll know it's time."
"Alright, thank you."
"You're very welcome. Have a nice night." She smiled at them then went back to her work.
"One thing I still wanna know," Martha said as they walked away. "Why's it called Sorkora?"
The Doctor waved his hand. "Oh, that's easy. 'Sor' is taken from 'Soræn' which is their word for center, or middle. 'Kora' means Spring. So Sorkora literally means Midspring. Of course, if they wanted to be more grammatically correct, it would be Rene Soræn tön Kora, the Middle of Spring, but I guess they didn't like the way that sounded or they didn't want to confuse the holiday with the actual time. There're a lot of holidays like that all over the universe. Like Blin—"
"Okay, I got it." Martha interrupted before he could start a lecture. He frowned petulantly but then he perked up as he realized there was music playing, which meant autumn had begun, and they could get food.
They were given plates, sporks and knives, and cups and told to help themselves to anything at any of the tables. So they wandered from table to table like the Falorans, selecting from the many dishes they were offered. Fruits and vegetables, breads and pastries, nuts and seeds, and all varieties of meats; sauces, syrups, and dips; a plethora of juices, sweet water, plain water, and coconut milk from the tropics. They even found a table of cheeses, which were a rare delicacy since Falorans were not farmers by nature. The time travelers decided to leave the cheese for the natives and went to explore the next table over. When their plates were loaded and their cups filled, they headed for the town square, where the band was playing, and sat on the soft ground amongst the group already there listening while they ate.
Rose picked a piece of meat off her plate. It was some sort of poultry, she was almost certain, and covered in a dark purple sauce. She bit into it carefully and wracked her brain to find a comparison for the meat and sauce. She finally had to ask the Doctor and he plucked a piece from his plate, biting into it and chewing thoughtfully before announcing it was some sort of duck with blackberry sauce. Some of the things she recognized on her own because they were things from her time that had been placed on Falora for preservation, like red apples (baked with cinnamon), and the smoked carrots. She ate until she felt ready to burst.
"Whew, good thing we run so much," Martha said as she set down her fork. Rose laughed.
The band played quite a variety of music. At first it was cheerful, flowing, and perfect to fill the background as people chatted and ate. Then as the evening wore on, the sun sank behind the horizon, and the lanterns and torches were lit and strings of lights wrapped along the buildings, trees, and poles were turned on, the songs became louder, morphing into dance music.
Those still eating moved to the side streets and the town square turned into a dance floor. Rose and Martha, of course, jumped right in. Some dances everybody went freestyle, others were line dances with their own steps and moves and Rose and Martha hung back until they felt like they got the hang of it. The other dancers were quite patient with them, too. When there was a couple's dance, everyone with purple sashes and belts found their spouses, and those with white sashes paired off, but none of them approached either human woman.
Finally, when the next couple dance came around, she marched over to the mossy log where the Doctor was sitting. He'd forgone his jacket, she noticed, but left the rose sash on, and when she got closer she realized he wasn't alone. At least ten young Falorans were gathered around him, watching and listening raptly. She frowned, trying to figure out what he was doing with that little daisy girl's petals, and then she laughed. The Doctor, Last of the Time Lords and the Oncoming Storm, was showing a group of half-flower children how to braid their petals.
"—and as long as you don't twist or pull too hard, they shouldn't rip," he was saying as he twisted three pink petals into a braid. "They're pretty set in your head, just like your hair, but they are still flower petals which, I'm sure you know, are very delicate. But you still feel fine, don't you?"
"Yep," said the daisy girl.
Rose laughed again and stepped around the log. They all looked up at her. "Hey kids. Sorry to interrupt, but I need to borrow him."
"But he's not done with my petals!" the daisy girl protested.
"I'll bring him back." She held out her hand. "Come on, Doctor. The world isn't gonna end."
His brow furrowed as he tried to work out what she meant. Then he smiled and nodded. The Doctor twisted a small hair tie (and where had he gotten that?) around the braid he was working on and patted the child's shoulder. "I'll finish it soon," he promised.
He stood up and accepted Rose's hand. "Do you know the moves?" he murmured into her ear.
She glanced at the dancers. It was an upbeat song and partners were spinning and dancing around each other but there didn't seem to be a pattern. "I don't think there are any."
"Well, then."
"Is she your wife?" one of the children asked.
"She's got white," another muttered.
The Doctor smiled. "This is Rose. She's my plus-one."
She pulled him out onto the dance floor. It was their favorite kind of dance. No rules, no chance of getting thrown out for getting it wrong, just moving in a way that felt right to the music. Laughing and smiling, hands gripping and sliding, hips bumping, and eyes only for each other.
It changed to a more cheerful, fast tempo and he raised one of her arms and she spun underneath. They moved around each other in a swing, and a few of the other couples stopped to watch. By this time period, swing dancing was something of ancient history, only known by the most dedicated Earth historians. The Falorans had never even heard of it, let alone seen it.
When he dipped her backwards, her head fell back and she glimpsed Martha on the edge of the crowd. The Doctor pulled her back up and she leaded forward to whisper in his ear, "Martha hasn't been asked to dance at all."
The Doctor nodded once then let go of her and she backed to the edge of the crowd. A curious murmur swept through the Falorans as the Doctor approached Martha and held out his hand. She glanced around in embarrassment and Rose saw him wink. Martha smiled in shy excitement, accepting his hand, and he whirled her onto the dance floor.
Martha couldn't swing, but a lifetime of formal events had given her some dancing knowledge. Rose couldn't tell what it was, something similar to the swing but not quite as wild. Whatever it was, the Doctor picked up on it quickly. They didn't have the synchrony she did with him but they did well enough considering it was one of the only times they had ever danced. She heard Martha laughing and smirked. The song ended on with a flourish on the fiddle just as Martha stopped spinning.
The crowd clapped and whistled in appreciation.
Martha bit her lip and looked around, cheeks flaming. The Doctor winked and said something in her ear. Her embarrassment faded and she hugged him. Letting go, she retreated to the edge of the dance floor again and the Doctor came over to Rose.
"Good idea," he said.
"'s been known to happen," she replied.
The music started again, slower and calming. The Doctor smiled. "Shall we?"
Rose slid her arms around his neck and he put his hands on her hips. They danced slowly in place and the Falorans, realizing the show had transitioned to something private, drifted off or started dancing themselves. The music continued, sweet and gentle, and Rose rested her head on his chest. His hearts beat in her ear, tha-tha-thump-thump, tha-tha-thump-thump, and she smiled, running her hand up and down his back.
"Rose?" he murmured. She raised her head. The strings of lights reflected in the Doctor's dark eyes. "Did you have fun?"
She nodded. "You sure you didn't plan on bringing us here today?"
"No, I just picked a random date in this time period. Or the TARDIS ignored that and made sure we landed today."
"Mm. My money's on the TARDIS."
"You doubt me?"
Rose shook her head. "Never."
His teasing smile faded into something more solemn and he rested his forehead against hers. "But I really did bring us here for a reason."
"So are you finally gonna tell me?"
"Hmm…."
"You're such a tease."
"Oh, I know."
"Arse."
"Hey, now, if you're going to name-call then I could always take it back."
"Take what back? Did you get me something? Is that why we're here?"
He chuckled quietly and kissed her forehead, taking her by the hand. "Come on, come over here."
He led her away from the dancers to the mossy log he'd been by earlier. The children had dispersed, though she wondered how long it would be until they came back. They had been so enthralled by his handiwork, after all, and the daisy girl had seemed adamant about getting her petals braided. But his jacket was still there, untouched.
They sat down and he immediately reached into his jacket pocket. The first thing he removed was a key. Her TARDIS key—she'd left it in her skirt pocket earlier.
"Easy to lose, this," the Doctor said as he placed it in her palm. "I'm sorry your necklace broke."
"Didn't break, exactly."
"Still." He looked down at her hand, running his fingers across hers, tracing the dimples between the bases of her fingers. He was silent for a long time and she was resisting the urge to fidget when he spoke again. "Do you remember the day before we met Martha?"
She had to think about it for a minute. "We…were in London. We visited Shareen, went to get chips, and then we saw the coil things—"
"Do you remember what you told Shareen about this?" He touched the key.
"I—" she frowned. "No. I don't."
"You told her this was more important to you than anything else. No ring would ever come close."
"Oh. Yeah, I did say that, didn't I?" she mused. "W-well it's true, I mean, it is."
"Do you remember what happened when we were leaving?"
"Yeah, that I do. Shareen yanked you down by your tie—scared you to death, too—and said something about us shaggin' and you not abandonin' me. Then she…" her brow furrowed as she struggled to recall distant, details that had seemed inconsequential at the time. Her eyes widened. "She whispered something to you."
He nodded. "She said she didn't care what it was, but I'd better give you something better than a key."
Rose blinked once then swallowed, connecting the dots in her head. He hadn't chosen this place on a whim; he had come here for something specific. But what did the flower people make that was so special?
Seeing the question on her face, he pulled a box from his trouser pocket. It was large, bigger than both her hands. He opened it slowly, revealing a thin, shiny, silver necklace.
"It's got many names. Essïnof Laso to the Falorans. Nievr Bas, Cincza, Carola'sGift, Plyra Seut to my people, but it's most commonly known as 'Soul Silver.' It's a special material, not metallic even though it would appear to be so, it's not even silver, but it's got a natural bio-lock. It will only respond to the first creature that touches it." He smiled expectantly and she just stared at him.
Rose's mind was racing. Did he—was he—no, surely he wasn't. Was he? Better than a key, he'd said.
"Are you…" she stopped, licked her lips, and tried again. "Are you asking me to marry you?"
His eyes widened. "N-not exactly," he stammered. "Not that I've got a problem with it or anything—I don't—but, Rose, marriage doesn't mean the same thing in our two cultures, and in mine it involves more than you'd expect. We've already promised each other forever, and consummated it, and, really, that's good enough for me. If you want to have a proper ceremony, well, we could. But this," he raised the box, "this was to ensure you never lose your key since it means so much to you. And no one can ever take it away from you, either. You'll always be able to get into the TARDIS and won't ever have to worry about not being able to come home."
She searched his eyes for a long moment. If he actually had been proposing she would not have refused, but in a way she was glad he had not. Marriage was big and they had barely even broached the topic. She had suspected there would be loads of cultural differences and they would have to be discussed. Now was neither the time nor the place for that conversation. Looking down, she studied the necklace again.
"There's no clasp. How do I put it on?"
"First you have to touch it so it identifies your genetic code."
Rose set the key on her knee and reached out, fingering the necklace carefully before picking it up. Other than a little tingle in the tips of her fingers, nothing happened.
"Now pinch a small area between your fingers and pull."
She did and the necklace separated like a piece of wet paper. She very nearly dropped it. "Did I break it?!"
"No, no, that's just how you take it off." He assured her, setting the case aside. "It's virtually indestructible. No one but you will ever be able to remove it. Not me, not your mum, no one."
Rose picked up her key and fed one end of the necklace through the hole. Then she slid the necklace around her neck and pressed the two ends together. She felt them merge and when she fingered the area she found no trace they'd ever parted. Her eyes widened in astonishment. Slipping her hand under her key, she held it up in her palm and stared at it and the necklace.
"Do you—do you like it?" the Doctor asked timidly.
She blinked away the tears forming in her eyes and gave him her widest smile. "I love it," she assured him, and let the key fall against her chest. "Thank you." Then she leaned forward and kissed him full on the mouth. He returned the kiss with enthusiasm.
Martha, standing about twenty yards away, smiled at them. She hadn't been able to hear what he said but she'd certainly seen enough. So that was why he had brought them here.
The Faloran standing next to her, a male a few inches taller than her with a single, red petal on his head, folded his arms. "Now, I'm not sure how things work in your culture, but that looked like a proposal to me."
She shrugged. "Well, it wouldn't really be in my culture, but I dunno about his." A smile slowly spread across her features. "Oh, but I hope it is!"
"Well," said the Faloran happily. "In that case…" He lifted his fingers to his mouth and let out a loud whistle before clapping his hands.
Other people spotted the couple locked in a passionate embrace, started applauding and whistling as well. Martha shrugged once then joined him, letting out a loud whoop.
Rose and the Doctor broke apart and Rose looked around, cheeks flaming red. She laughed and buried her face in his chest in embarrassment. The Doctor gazed around proudly, seemingly unbothered that they had been noticed. He caught Martha's eye and she gave him a thumbs up. He smiled at her warmly before resting his head on top of Rose's.
So... I may have lied to you guys just a bit. Or, well, I didn't lie. I just changed plans last minute. Blink isn't next. Blink is going to be it's own standalone story that takes place after The Last of the Time Lords and before Voyage of the Damned.