The interior of the shop was no less odd than its exterior; for inside almost every inch of wall space seemed to be covered in clocks. Hundreds and hundreds of clocks. Every sort of clock as well, from antique grandfather clocks that definitely didn't belong this far in the future to the holo-clocks so popular in the 52nd Century. There were water clocks, cuckoo clocks, even an incense clock that made his nose itch. It was… bizarre.
Bizarre and unsettling. He'd assumed that it was just the usually strong perception filter that had been playing havoc with his higher senses and that once past the boundary he'd be able to get a much clearer idea of what was going on.
He was wrong.
Inside was even worse than outside had been. All his Time Lord senses felt muffled, disorientated, almost… confused; like a compass which could no longer tell where north is when placed next to a magnet. Which meant only one thing: something here was interfering with Time. To the normal eye the shop – strange choice in décor aside – looked like any other, but as the Doctor had learnt all too well over the years, appearances were often deceptive: and this place was not what it seemed.
Still, a mystery was what he'd been after and a mystery is what he'd found and the Doctor wasn't going to let a little thing like a creepy number of time keeping devices and a time distortion field stop him from snooping and solving this delightful little distraction.
~*o0o*~
It was while he was poking the water clock in the vague hope of finding the off switch that he met the third surprise of the day.
The surprise announced itself politely with a gentle cough.
Spinning around at the sound, the Doctor lost his balance and careened into first one of the tables knocking several plates to the floor before bouncing off that and smashing into a pedestal holding what probably had been quite a valuable item before it's abrupt introduction to the Doctor's head and the tiled floor.
Ow. The Doctor rubbed his head ruefully. While this latest body was a great improvement on his previous ones in so many ways there were definitely times he missed the effortless grace of his last incarnation and the sure footedness of his ninth. This was one of those times.
Looking up at the reason for his new location on the floor, the Doctor grinned. The cough belonged a mid-height female humanoid with grey scale like skin and dark blue hair that contrasted with her orange pupilless eyes.
"Oh, you, beauty," the Doctor exclaimed delightedly jumping to his feet, "I know you – you're Erixian." He shook her hand forcefully, beyond pleased that the surprise turned out to be one of the most hospitable and friendly aliens races he'd met over the years.
"I am Gheheris, proprietor of this place," the alien corrected him sternly, pulling her hand free of his own with a displeased grimace. "Are you the lonely wanderer?" the newly named Gheheris asked, eyeing him as if hoping that he wasn't.
"Well, yes, I suppose you could call me that," The Doctor rambled with a manic grin, fingers reaching up to fiddle with his bowtie. "Been called worse. Amy – she's a friend of mine - calls me her madman in a box."
The woman blinked at him uncertainly for a moment before deciding to persist with her desire for answers. "Are you the man without a home?"
"Not as such, no. Had one once, obviously, but now I live in a box and have done for well over a millennia."
"A box?" Gheheris questioned with a baffled frown.
"Weeelll… I say a box. It's not really. I mean it is, but that's just her disguise. Sexy is a magnificent Time and Space ship."
The proprietor exhaled, biting her pale purple lip with sharply pointed teeth as she considered this response. "Then you one of the Lords of Time."
"Yep," The Doctor grinned again popping the p, "that's me. Hello. Time Lord, last of. But enough about me. What I'm interested in is what you're doing all the way out here?"
And wasn't that the question. Erix Prime was more than an hundred-thousand light years and several star systems from Shan Shen and while the Erixians had the technology for space travel their cultural obsession with remaining close to home meant that they seldom ventured very far and usually only within their own solar system. So, to find an Erixian here – a singular Erixian as well by the look of it – was not just unusual, it was downright peculiar. Where was her family? Her life-mate? Her species were famous for their close familial bonds, it was one of the reasons her species had such little desire to explore.
Gheheris regarded him for a moment with an unreadable expression, her violet eyes watchful and alert. "I am here to serve The Mother and her daughter, as do all the faithful."
The Doctor frowned and scratched the side of his head. "You have a mistress?" He asked looking around the shop as if he expected her to materialize out of the ether. That didn't make sense. Erixians were a free people – or, at least, they had been on his last visit to the paradise that was the collection of planets that made up the Erix system. The Erixians prided themselves on being a classless society, one with true equality and no concept of servitude. It was a beautiful place where the culture was based on home, family and unity.
The female Erixian shook her head, her mouth twitching into a mou of displeasure as if his stupidity was a disappointment. "I am here at the behest of The Lady to serve the daughter," she tried again, this time adding an odd inflection to her words.
The lady? What lady? Which lady? Should he know her? Gheheris' words made him suspect that she at least thought he should, but he knew plenty of ladies through his travels and adding a 'the' didn't really help narrow the field when he had acquaintances across the whole of time and space. And then there was the thing about the daughter. Most of the women he had even a passing friendship with were single or didn't have children.
Of course, there was one glaring exception to that general state of affairs, wasn't there. The Ponds. However, while he could quite see Amy enjoying the mystique around calling herself the Lady, he couldn't see River settling for 'the daughter', and then there was the whole Rory thing; where did he fit into this.
Letting out a distinctly put-upon sigh, his host looked pointedly at one of the many clocks decorating the establishment. It was a pretty thing, clearly from her home planet, with the typical four-part Erixian tableau painted around the outside of the 32 hour dial. Erixian clocks, he remembered, were often the focal point of the home and were usually decorated with cultural myths or family histories. This one clearly fell into the former type, depicting what the Doctor thought was a quasi-religious ceremony, with each section leading into the next. It was a beautiful sight, with exquisite detail and craftsmanship that cunningly led the eye back to the top quadrant where three figures were gathered in a rough trinity. In the center stood an androgenous figure in a dark blue dress, one hand holding an hourglass while her other rested on the head of what looked like a large dog with golden eyes. Below the pair, and off slightly to one side, knelt a knight in full armor, head bowed in supplication or respect to the central figure, something small and silvery grasped in his hands.
He stared at the picture, mesmerized by the vibrancy. It was… stunning.
"The Lady," Gheheris said again, gesturing at the clock.
There it was again, that name, and with it that vague tingle of recognition that told him he really ought to know who this lady was and what the picture denoted.
He stepped closer to examine the story being told and nearly had a hearts attack.
"She stands with the Mother and the…"
"You're with the Church," the Doctor snarled, whipping out the sonic to point it at the Erixian with murder in his eyes as everything fell into place. The thought ripped open the already gaping wound from Demon's Run and with it came the fury he'd been bottling since he'd first realized Amy had been taken. They were everywhere he went; everywhere and everywhen. Dogging his footsteps. Hounding him through Time.
Well, no more. Today was NOT the day for them to test him.
"No, Time lord, I am not!" the Erixian stated, sounding annoyed and not at all concerned about the furious man standing only a few feet away pointing what could be dangerous weapon at her. "My people have no need or desire to deal with the Church. We serve a greater god than they; the one to whom we must all answer eventually. Even you."
That took some of the wind from his sails, making the Doctor pause as he tried to regain his bearings at the sudden feeling of being wrong footed. But then what of the images in the second and third sections? Those symbols were ones used by the Church, he recognized them from the stronghold where they'd found Amy, and his mind had filled in the rest leaping rapidly to the obvious and inevitable conclusion. 'The Mother' was clearly a reference to the Mother Superior, Tasha Lem. The Lady likely River. It all made sense.
Gheheris shook her head, the grey of her scales glistening in the lamplight. "Foolish lord," she tutted, crossing her arms, "he looks but he does not see."
"And just what is it you think I should be seeing?" The Doctor demanded, "I know those symbols, thanks, they're ones used by the Church."
"But do you know what they mean or where they had their origin?" The Erixian demanded in a tone strongly reminiscent of the one adults use on recalcitrant or particularly stupid children. He shook his head, this wasn't a language that Tardis could – or, perhaps, wanted to – translate.
Gheheris sighed. "No, I thought not. The Church of the Papal Mainframe stole these sacred pictograms from us; they are the earliest form of writing used by my people and passed down through the generations so we would never forget our lady or her promise. When the Church called its crusade and they began to send their agents through Time in an attempt to gain the advantage in their war, some searched out other Time sensitive species. The Time Lords were no more, but there were others. They said they came in peace but in truth they came to steal our knowledge and to change Time in ways to give them the power they craved."
"Oh," the Doctor breathed, slouching back to lean against the conveniently placed wall as he finally recalled his lessons on the Erixians. What a dunderhead he was. The clocks. How could he have been so stupid not to have realized. He knew this – or used to anyway. Gheheris was Erixian. "Of course," he murmured softly in what might if you squinted sound like an apology, "your people are chronotheists." Erixians were famous for being one of only a handful of races that worshipped Time. They'd learnt about in the Academy.
The Time Lords had looked down upon most species as being primitive, uncivilized, and not worth their time, but the Erixians had come in for a special level of condescension from his people. Even Romana, who had been a great deal less xenophobic than most of their race, had once called them "a backwards people mired in superstition who squandered the gift they had been given." The gift in this case being their sensitivity to Time, which while not as developed as that of the Time Lords was still pretty impressive.
Time lords were strict atheists, there was no room in their logic driven mindset for gods and higher powers. The closest they came to acknowledging such forces were the Guardians and even that had been more of a grudging acceptance forced on them through repeated exposure than any philosophical enlightenment.
In comparison, the Erixian culture was formed around their beliefs and chosen religion to the point where it was almost impossible to separate the two.
It was why it had been a topic of derision at the Academy, and amongst Time Lords in general. One did not worship Time, Time was not a god. It was something to be mastered, to be controlled and brought to heel, just as the mighty Time Lords had done. Time was their bitch, not their master.
Gheheris' people though, they worshipped Time, separating it into two anthropomorphic forms: Mother Time and the legendary Daughter of Time.
The tableau wasn't depicting Madam Kovarian and her band of religious zealots, it was showing the Wheel of Time. The woman in blue was the Mother and the rest of it…
"The symbols the Church stole from us speak of Time and her guardians; her child and her champion. We have always worshipped Time as the mother of all," Gheheris' softly spoken words interrupted his thinking, jolting him back to the present. "For centuries she was our only god, but then one day in our greatest need her daughter came to us." Her eyes met the Doctors, shimmering violet full of anguish that made no sense to him. Erix was a peaceful system, a safe system. Right now they should be in the middle of the Second Great Abundance, a time of unparalleled peace and prosperity. Yet the way Gheheris was speaking sounded like this calamity – whatever it was – was recent.
"Fifty years ago, our planet was invaded by the Talpians." Okaaay, that definitely shouldn't have happened. He knew his history of the Erixian system was a little rusty, but he was pretty certain that rusty or not he would have remembered that. Had someone – the Church? – altered history like the Daleks had with what should have been the Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire? He knew that acolytes of the Kovarian chapter had been messing about in Earth history, but it had never occurred to him that they might have made other changes; bigger, more dangerous ones. If Gheheris was right and the Church was changing Time then it raised the very worrying question; what else had they changed… and could he fix it.
Oblivious to the Doctor's internal monologue, Gheheris carried on with her tale. "Evil and cruel as the usurpers were, we would not lose faith that Time would answer our prayers; though we may have suffered less had we converted to the Church as they wished. For decades we struggled, until she appeared; the golden girl with Time in her eyes and the heart of a wolf. She overthrew the invaders, wiping them from our world, saving us. She showed us that day that our faith was true and in turn we swore to guard her secrets."
The Doctor froze for a second, memories swamping him of a very particular golden haired girl with a talent for saving people. It couldn't be her though. She was long gone from this universe and from him. He must be more exhausted by recent events than he thought for his normally disciplined mind to be conjuring phantoms from his past based on vague similarities that could apply to hundreds – thousands – of other people. For all he knew it could be River who saved the Erixians; she certainly got around enough and had little compunction in meddling wherever she saw fit.
"She gave us a different name, but we knew her for who she really was. The Daughter of Time." Gheheris took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, before she continued. The first time The Lady came she saved us. The second she came to us for help. She needed assistance. Long ago she had been separated from her chosen life-mate, a wanderer beloved of Time and named her champion, trapped in another -"
The Erixian's words faded as the Doctor's mind whirled with all the chaotic force and destruction of a tornado.
No. It couldn't be. It couldn't. Not now! It couldn't be Rose. It couldn't be and yet his traitorous hearts leapt at the thought of her. Rose was living out her life, happy and safely away from him, with his clone in Pete's world. Yet, despite knowing this, hope, raw and devastating, threatened to choke him and he was left torn between wanting it so desperately he thought his hearts might burst and terrified at what it could mean. If this was Rose then it must have been during her dimension hopping days. Could he really see her again knowing he would have to let her go – knowing what he would be sending her off too. Could he do it?
Could he?
His stomach churned as his hearts and the nascent bond he'd spent the last three hundred years doing his best to ignore made their opinion known.
No. That was the answer, he knew it in the depths of his soul. No, he couldn't. It was like Kazran Sardick had once asked him; 'one last day with your beloved. Which day would you choose?'" He hadn't been able to answer the question back then and he still couldn't answer it now, because the truth was he never wanted to have that last day. He hated endings – always had and likely always would. As long as Rose was in Pete's world and he kept running then he could pretend that there would be more days to come, that he hadn't wasted their last precious time together.
He couldn't take this, not now when the wounds on what was left of his hearts was still so fresh. It wasn't Rose. Couldn't be her. Yet the symbols, the way Gheheris spoke of her, it was all so very reminiscent of his pink and yellow girl. It would be just like her to stop and help anyone who needed it; so very like the compassionate young human who'd held his hand and showed him how to live again.
"- so she asked for a volunteer, for one of us to come with her to deliver a message she herself could not. I was young the first time The Lady came, little more than an infant, but I remembered her kindness, her courage… and her sorrow. So, I offered my Time in return for the Time she had given us all when she saved us. She brought me here to this place and bid me wait for the day that he would come."
"And how were you supposed to recognize this 'he' exactly?" The Doctor asked flatly, his level tone a contrast the storm clouds gathering in his eyes.
Gheheris' orange eyes met the Doctor's darkening glare unflinchingly. "Because he would be the only one who would walk through the door.
"And why would he do that?"
"Because he's a man who runs towards trouble." Gheheris' answer was everything he feared it would be and it feels like a football made of lead has taken been magically inserted into his stomach as it occurs to him – rather belatedly – that this could well be a trap. The trap, if what he is beginning to suspect is true.
"So, me, then." The Doctor's expression was unreadable but for the fury in his gaze. "That's what you're saying, isn't it." With every sentence it became more and more likely that this was another of River's games and he felt all the anger and hurt of the past few months simmering dangerously under his skin. That bloody woman. Couldn't he have one day – just one day without her messing about with his life and his future. Was it too much to ask that he have this. Apparently so. Who knew, maybe this was the day she killed him.
True, Gheheris had said she wasn't involved with the Church, but then that's just the sort of thing one of Kovarian's nutters would say. After all, it's not like the Church was going to admit to any nefarious plans they may or may not have. It would completely defeat the point of trying to kill him if they gave him advanced notice of an assassination attempt.
Anticlimactic as it may be to be murdered in a horologist's paradise at least he wouldn't have long to stew and worry over when the inevitable was coming. And if it got him out of having to deal with any more of River's particular brand of insanity, then that was a definite bright side.
"She warned me that you would need proof. That you would not believe," Gheheris said, her grey cheeks turned a faint purple in a sign of her mounting vexation; though whether that was at his less than pleasant manner or him having rumbled her dastardly plan he didn't know.
"Wise lady. Now tell me who she is!" It was less a request and more a command, one barked out through gritted teeth; all pretense at politeness gone.
"It is forbidden to speak her name – a secret we keep for her own protection – but I can show you." Slowly – almost reluctantly – the Erixian unclasped the locket around her neck, holding it out for him to take.
It was a small thing made of a shimmering gold metal that looked almost comically dwarfed in the Doctor's hands as he flicked the lock and let it fall open. For a long, drawn out moment there was a preternatural stillness in the shop. It was the stillness of the calm before the storm or the pause between one wave crashing and the next. A stillness that spoke of imminent danger.
"How can you have this?" The Doctor growled, menace bleeding from every bitten out word as he pointed imperiously at the picture of a young looking blonde woman, a photo which confirmed every fear and half formed hope his tortured mind could conjure to torment him with. Because there, lying innocently in the palm of his hand, was definitely Rose; a Rose who was standing beside an Erixian that could only be a younger Gheheris and what looked like Gheheris' family. His Rose that looked exactly as he remembered her.
His Rose in a photo that shouldn't exist.
He glanced up, his gaze landing on the Erixian clock and the trinity at the top and felt his hearts stop as things fell into place. Not a dog, a wolf. Mother Time, her daughter and the champion. It may be three regenerations since he'd last worn the mantle of Time's Champion, but it wasn't one he was likely to forget in a hurry. That, then, would make Rose the legendary Daughter of Time.
But that was impossible, Despite what the ridiculous organs in his chest might wish, Rose was wonderfully, fantastically human. She wasn't a demi-goddess, she wasn't – couldn't be – the fabled child of Time that had been the cause of so much furious debate and fear at the Academy. She couldn't be. It was as simple as that. And yet… and yet, here he was in a shop that shouldn't exist, talking to someone who was convinced that she was, in fact, just that.
"I think you must be mistaken," the Doctor settled on at last, reluctantly handing the locket back to its visibly relieved owner, "my Rose was as human as they come." Which meant this had to be a trick. An elaborate, cruel trick, but a trick all the same.
The Erixian raised a scaled eyebrow but was otherwise silent as if she was waiting for something.
The Doctor exhaled as he tried to gather his scattered wits. He felt exhausted; stretched thin, like butter scraped over too much bread. This was meant to be a fun little adventure. Something to distract him from, well, everything; not whatever new hell this was. He had quite enough on his plate dealing with his current mistakes without having past regrets flung in his face as well.
He eyed the door longingly. Not thirty minutes ago he'd been desperate to get into this place, now he was desperate to get out.
He took a step towards the exit, then another, feeling like lead weights had been attached to his feet. He should leave. He needed to leave. Get away. Run. He couldn't deal with this. Not now. For one brief moment he'd hoped…
His hand had just touched the cold brass of the handle, though, when it hit him.
He spun around, this time thankfully managing to avoid both falling over and damaging anymore of the Erixian's possessions. "You said you were waiting here," the Doctor said. "Why?"
Gheheris looked at him with gleaming orange eyes. "To give you a message."