Until We Burn | Dr Who

Chapter Ninety-Nine: Till Death Do Us Part

For spontaneity, even this is a little too unexpected. Sat at the dressing table in the Tardis Wardrobe, I can hardly sit still. I keep shifting in my seat, worrying my rings, chewing on my bottom lip. My long skirts have been replaced by a knee-length white tulle dress, embroidered all over with silver stars that glitter however I turn. It was waiting for me when I first arrived, a gift from the Tardis.

Clara tries to turn my head back to face the mirror for the tenth time and huffs, waving the silver hairpin that Jack had gifted me. "You know, if you can't keep still, it won't be your hair this thing parts. Reckon the Doctor would rather you're intact for the wedding."

Wincing, I mutter, "Right. Sorry."

I work harder to remain still, resorting to simply fidgeting with my rings. She chuckles to herself and catches my eye in the mirror. "You nervous?"

"No. Just excited. For the first time in my life, this is the one thing I'm going into without a single doubt. I've never been more certain of anything. Is that weird?"

"Not at all. It's sweet." Now my hair has been parted into six separate sections, she begins to braid them. Our eyes meet again and she smiles at the sight of my unblinking focus on my own appearance. "How long have you known each other?"

Realising just how breathless I feel, I inhale deeply. "About three years, I think. Hard to know when you're a time traveller. Plus, there was a five-year gap." At her confused frown, I explain, "Stayed behind in a parallel universe. It's all very complicated. But we've basically been married for ages. Wore this ring for a year after we pretended to be Mr and Mrs Smith for an investigation. Then he gave me this other one more recently. It was meant to be a memento, 'cause there was this identical version of him who we had to drop back in the other universe. He was half-human. I could've aged with him and had a family and everything, but I stayed here, so none of that was very realistic anymore. Long story."

She is taken aback by the rambling outburst. "Oh. Wow. He wasn't kidding when he said it was complicated, then?"

"Not really. But Gods know we've deserved this wedding after everything we've been through."

Clara raises an eyebrow. "'Gods'? Which ones do you worship?"

Her curiosity is refreshing. I smile and trace my owl-engraved necklace as I say, "Minerva. Well, her and the rest of the pantheon."

"What, Roman ones?"

"The Romans came from us."

"Very cool," she praises. "I thought most religions had, like, rules or something."

I look back up at her and let her tilt my head to the side. "'Rules'?" I repeat questioningly.

She nods. "You know. Keeping the faith, marrying someone who believes the same thing. Does the Doctor believe in your gods?"

"No."

"And that doesn't bother you?"

Shrugging, I let my hands fall back into my lap. "Of course not," I reply. "Clara, I have seen a million different places, a million different religions. I believe in what I believe and others are free to do the same. If anything, I think he finds it as a comfort."

"'A comfort'? Why?"

There is no ill intent to her questions, simply a desire to understand. I find myself wishing that she could travel with us instead. We haven't had a friend since Donna. The reminder sparks a flicker of grief that I try to suppress with a chuckle. "Because even if I lose everything, even if I lose him, I'll still have something to keep me going. The Doctor may not worship my Gods but he loves them, because they love me. Besides, I've been alone, keeping the Gods in my heart, for a very long time. I can manage a little longer."