The Rose & Crown

Chapter Twenty-Three

The air felt frigid and damp upon his pale skin, bringing with it a sense of familiarity only the oncoming storm could provide. Far in the distance, beyond the rigid mountainous highlands, a streak of lightning claimed the evening sky like splintering glass. The earth rumbled beneath his feet as the boom of thunder echoed all around him. His calculating eyes were fixed upon an unmasked figure standing several paces ahead. Her long black cloak rustled with the howling wind. Neither made a move as the tension in the air grew between them. His hearts raced with anticipation at her benighted presence before him. Whatever reason for her ultimate quest to discover his location, there was only one thing he truly needed to know.

"How did you find me?"

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Amidst the silence that had befallen the interior walls of the TARDIS main control room stood the form of her silver-haired Time Lord on the top platform. A maroon-coloured velvet coat hung on display upon the metal rack beside him. He hesitantly reached out and allowed his hand to graze over the fabric of the sleeve as if searching for imperfections. Lifting it by its collar, he removed it from its position of rest and gracefully placed on his armour. His fingers slowly traced the seams of the lapels towards the buttons on the front as the garment embraced him like an old friend. Inhaling a deep breath in preparation for what was to come, he took hold of the railing and descended the stairs. He came to a sudden stop near the last few steps as his eyes met with Clara's favourite chair, now empty and cold. He was alone. The memory of their last conversation from that very spot bled into his mind so clearly, it was as if she never left it.

The Doctor stood quietly at the console, his attention fixed to the viewscreen as he manually updated the interface with data from his recent maintenance. Though tedious and time-consuming, he rather enjoyed the distraction from the constant apprehension he felt towards their impending future. Patience had never been one of his strongest attributes. He was a man of action, constantly moving forward, the first to react whenever the moment called for it. His own personal agenda for any given circumstance had almost always paralleled each other; swoop in, save the day, rinse and repeat. But now, as the anticipation lingered in the air, he felt every bit of it tightening the rope bound around his hands. Unless all the cards were to suddenly play out in his favour, he had no choice but to hang up his coat in defeat. As strange and exposing as that felt, after everything he and his companion had been through, perhaps that wasn't so terrible a thought after all.

Clara took to her reading while he worked, her legs comfortably propped on the railing as she took up occupancy in her chair. Her fingers softly grazed the familiar pages of Jane Austen's "Pride and Prejudice" for what felt like the hundredth time since coming on board. The moment of descent into the world of a truly enthralling story was the closest she could come to exploring on her own without the threat of danger lurking in any given direction. The people she found there were oftentimes the only example of humanity she had left to cling to. Being the sole representative of the human race on board the TARDIS, the only person qualified enough to remind her of where she came from was herself.

His wistful eyes shifted towards her for a moment before returning to the screen. "If you're hoping to discover an alternative ending, I'm afraid I have some bad news for you," he offered.

"I don't read it because I know how it ends," she noted, her attention drawn towards the page. "No matter how many times I've read it, I always find something I hadn't noticed before. An unrealised emotion, a meaningful glance, a deeper understanding of the characters. It's as if I'm meeting them for the first time all over again. I find it quite inspiring, actually."