![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 |
Chapter 4: The Festival of the Goddess
The day of the festival dawned bright and clear. A servant brought Rose breakfast in bed and indicated that, when she was ready, she should join Helen in the courtyard. The women of the town would travel to the festival separately from the men and would be gathering to dress and decorate one another just before eleven. Rose munched on her breakfast and determined that perhaps it would be good for her and the Doctor to spend a bit of time apart. She’d felt so on edge ever since their visit to 1987 and a bit of quality girly time was just what she needed. With a happy spring in her step, she climbed out of bed and wandered over to the wardrobe to decide which of the lovely gowns the TARDIS had conjured up she should wear.
While Rose fussed over her outfit, the Doctor accompanied Adelphos to the town square to assist his host with the oversight of the final preparations for the festival. In the harsh morning light the somewhat sterile appearance of the town seemed all the more stark to the Doctor and, with some casual questions, he was able to determine that the winter rains were somewhat late this year and for that reason the festival was of particular importance, a supplication as it was for Persephone to return to her lord and plunge Phoses into winter. Without winter, there could be no spring, no summer, no rebirth or fruition. Before the Doctor could ask further questions, however, Nicholas appeared with some important problem to do with the offerings to be made. Adelphos politely excused himself and disappeared to take care of business, leaving the Doctor to coordinate the arrangement of the provender for the revellers. The things, he thought discontentedly, he did to keep Rose happy. Now he appeared to be a dinner lady. Typical.
As the morning progressed the men of the town gradually assembled, lining the edges of the square in preparation for the womenfolk’s arrival. Dressed in blacks and greys, they were intended to symbolise Hades and the darkness of the winter months. As the sun reached its pinnacle and the day began to wane, the women appeared. On a wave of laughter and in a cascade of colour and motion, they spilled into the square, twirling and dancing, flowers in their hair, ribbons trailing from their waists, music falling from their lips. Each in turn they sprung to the centre of the square and the statue of Persephone that stood there. Dipping into a deep curtsey, they dropped flowers at her feet, before swinging to stand facing the men at the edges of the square.
The Doctor watched Rose fulfil her part, his eyes never leaving their contemplation of her as she approached the statue, her skirts twirling in a vibrant rippling circle and exposing golden shapely limbs. Twisting and turning, one arm stretched above her head, the other curled about her waist, grasping her offering of flowers close to her breast, she danced her circle around Persephone. Her laughter was sweet and innocent as she dropped her posy at the feet of the goddess. It felt as if the whole square held its breath at the picture of youthful joy and vibrant beauty she made as, with a light and lilting step, she stepped away from the statue and joined the other women.
As the last woman deposited her offering, the musicians struck up and the men moved, claiming a partner for a dance, enacting the claiming of Persephone by the lord of the underworld. The Doctor stood, still as the statue of Persephone, as Nicholas approached Rose and claimed her hand. It was just as well, the Doctor thought gruffly; he didn’t dance.
As the dancing got underway, Rose looked for the Doctor. She hadn’t seen him all day and she’d missed him. It would be wonderful to dance with him, just once. She spotted him, silent and staring, leaning, leather clad arms crossed, against one of the pillars holding up the main building. She smiled at him invitingly, only for her view to be blocked by Nicholas.
‘Dance with me, Rose?’
Bother. Still, the Doctor clearly wasn’t going to ask her. With a regretful little sigh, she took Nicholas’s hand and let him lead her into the throng of dancers.
The Doctor glowered as he watched Nicholas’s lips move against Rose’s neck. His fingers itched to grab the boy by the scruff of the neck and drag him away from Rose. He flexed them tensely against his thigh, willing himself to look elsewhere but finding himself unable to tear his gaze from the gently swaying form of Rose. What did she think she was playing at? His ship was not a dating agency and he had no intention of allowing her to become the TARDIS bike. As the annoying assistant led Rose towards a small table of offerings at the base of the statue of Persephone, lifting a confection to her lips, his control snapped. Enough was enough. If she didn’t know how to behave properly then it was time he taught her.
Nicholas danced with Rose for four cycles and Rose found herself wishing that it was her Doctor and not Nicholas who was holding her close and whispering soft words in her ear. Nicholas was nice enough, but she suspected the Doctor would be a far more thrilling dance partner. As the latest dance drew to a close, Nicholas led her to a small table before the statue of Persephone. Strewn with flowers, it also held a small plate of sweets. He deftly picked up a small delicacy, adorned with seven red pomegranate seeds, and pressed it to her lips. Rose looked at him in surprise, but obliging opened her mouth, blushing as Nicholas popped the dainty treat onto her tongue. She bit down, taste buds glorying at the sweet’s lush taste, before swallowing hastily as she spied the Doctor bearing down upon them. He looked like thunder. Noticing the Doctor, Nicholas balked, his hand slipping from Rose’s waist. Pressing a respectful kiss to her hand, he hastily made his apologies, merging into the throng of dancers just as the Doctor drew into range.
‘What are you playing at?’ The Doctor barked, as soon as he was within earshot. Rose winced. He sounded really angry.
The Doctor stalked towards her, grabbing her arm and wrenching her away from the retreating form of Nicholas impatiently. ‘I’ve gone to a great deal of trouble to ensure they treat you with respect, Rose, and I didn’t do it so you could flirt with every bloke in the town. If you can’t control yourself we’ll have to leave.’
Rose felt her ire rise at the injustice of his accusation and the unreasonable behaviour. ‘What the hell’s wrong with you? It’s only Nicholas! Some holiday this is turning out to be! I don’t know why you brought me here if you won’t let me enjoy myself.’
She twisted away from him, eluding his reaching hand and stalked off to find someone to dance with. Tears flooded her eyes but she refused to let them fall. Straightening her spine, she tossed her hair and sniffed. If he wanted to see flirting she’d bloody well give him flirting.
*************
The male population of the town feted Rose all afternoon. One by one dark clad men claimed her for a dance, twirling her enthusiastically and smothering her with compliments. Some were ridiculously overblown; Rose knew she was attractive but to hear these men talk you’d think she was beauty personified. Still, it was nice to be showered with compliments, however exaggerated. To Rose’s surprise, the women did not seem in the slightest resentful of the male attention she was getting. Instead, they kept pressing flowers and small gifts into her hands until Nicholas had to supply her with a bag to store them all in. While Rose enjoyed the attention after an hour or so it became wearing and she was immensely grateful when Nicholas came to rescue her, divesting her of her bag of trinkets and leading her towards edge of the square.
‘Wow! You lot are really friendly,’ Rose exclaimed, breathless with exertion. Nicholas smiled, his eyes tender.
‘You are blessed, Rose, they simply wished to honour you.’
‘Well, that’s all very nice, but I’m really nothing special.’ She grinned at him, gripping his arm slightly as a wave of fatigue swept through her. Nicholas smiled softly as he guided her to some stone steps just beyond the square, solicitous of her need to rest.
‘You are named for a flower, Rose, that makes you kith of Persephone. It was as she gathered flowers that Hades fell in love with her and claimed her as his own. It was that act that brought us the seasons and our enduring prosperity.’ He helped her to sit before subsiding beside her, sighing. ‘Until now we had thought that that prosperity would never end.’
He sounded so sad, Rose’s eyes widened in sympathy. ‘Nicholas, what is it? What’s wrong?’
‘The winter has not come, Rose. The sun still shines and animals and plants wither beneath its glare. Persephone has abandoned her mate, forsaken her duty and chosen not to return to the underworld.’ He shifted so that he knelt before Rose, gazing into her eyes earnestly, his hand gripping hers tightly. She blinked at him, startled to discover him so close and momentarily disorientated.
‘Today’s festival was a supplication, a humble request for her mercy. But the hour grows late and the skies have not brought us rain. She has forsaken us.’
Rose drew in a deep breath, trying to still her spinning head. She really shouldn’t have had any wine. Leaning forward she touched Nicholas’s arm, trying to reassure him. ‘It will rain eventually, Nicholas.’
‘No, Rose. We have fallen out of favour with our protectress. We have waited and waited, but we can wait no longer. We have chosen to act. Hades must be offered a new bride, a substitute for Persephone.’
Rose felt a tendril of alarm. Why was he looking at her like that?
‘Wha?’ She could barely form the word. Everything seemed terribly remote all of a sudden.
‘Forgive me, Rose, but your name was clearly a sign. You are the offering we have been waiting for. One as fair as you will no doubt please Hades. With your passage to the underworld you will revive the fortunes of all of Phoses.’
‘You’re going to kill me?’ She mumbled, knowing she should run, call for the Doctor, anything, but finding herself entirely incapable of any of those things.
‘You will reign with Hades in the underworld, Rose.’
‘I’ll be dead!’ She tried to shriek, but the words were only as whisper. As she sagged forwards into Nicholas’s arms, he pressed her close, looking down at her pale face, sweeping her hair aside and pressing a reverent kiss to her parted lips.
‘You will be a goddess!’ He said.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
From:
no subject