Actions

Work Header

Those Left Unwritten

Summary:

“Don’t worry, it won’t be dangerous this time.”

After all, it was a Victorian farmers market, what could go wrong?

Yazmin Khan currently felt obligated to punch the Doctor in the face for that remark.

Notes:

I haven't seen much of the 13th doctor, so I'm writing this pre-timeless child.

(Back when stuff was more or less happy).

Please let me know what you think (I post once or twice a week with my entire account, and I try to post for the stories that seem to have actual readers).

Comments and kudos are always appreciated!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: Just a Peaceful Trip

Chapter Text

 

“Don’t worry, it won’t be dangerous this time.”

 

After all, it was a Victorian farmers market, what could go wrong?

 

Yazmin Khan currently felt obligated to punch the Doctor in the face for that remark.

 

It was supposed to have been a simple sort of trip to Victorian London, a chance to see the sights and enjoy the lack of technology (or, alternatively, hate it and regret every decision that had brought you to this point).

 

That, especially, was something Yaz was considering, hunched against a large sack, attempting to compact her voluminous skirt into the smallest possible amount of space while the Doctor went off (significantly more worried than normal) to get back Graham and Ryan from wherever they’d been captured to.

 

She’d taken refuge behind the closest unattended market stall, desperately hoping whoever owned it would be taking the day off, be kind enough to let her continue hiding, or have died.

 

It wasn’t a pretty thought, but she didn’t want to be interrupted and sentenced with the others (or killed).

 

So, scrunched up between an almost frightening amount of apples, she found herself considering how the hell she’d ended up here in the first place.

 

The day had started as they normally did, another new adventure with its own new rules and regulations. 

 

(None of which the Doctor actually followed).

 

However, it was when they’d encountered the robots that Yaz knew her day was shot.

 

The Doctor hadn’t mentioned what they were, just that they were dangerous and to be on guard. 

 

To her, they seemed almost steampunk, gears and clockwork audible if you happened to listen. 

 

Then Ryan and Graham had gotten kidnapped when the Doctor had found herself distracted by a clockwork squirrel (that was somehow better than her own).

 

Lost in thought, it took a moment for her to notice the girl.

 

She seemed young, blonde hair pulled up and intricately braided, much like her demeanor, holding herself the way royalty would, stately and calm with an air of pride. Her navy blue dress didn’t do anything to hinder her ideal status either, a deep blue brocade set with impressive needlework.

 

However, what her bun and hat failed to completely hide were a pair of sharply pointed ears.

 

Yaz had seen those ears before, racking her brain as the mystery woman went from stall to stall until landing on hers.

 

“You don’t have your hair Boleyn style.” She leaned over the counter, giving Yaz a better look at her face, eyes much too old for the youth the rest of it seemed to hold. Giving her a smirk, she coolly made her way over to the other side, placing herself down on a barrel. “No rejoiner?”

 

The smirk, the eyes, the cadence of her voice. It hit her who she was. “Alice?”

 

“You remembered me, I wasn’t sure you would, seeing as you were eavesdropping a good deal away from the Doctor and I.”

 

Her face flushed, remembering the queer girl who had shown up, speaking with the Doctor like an old friend. “What the hell are you doing here?”

 

“I got a ride, I’m on my way to tea, and I thought I’d take a look at the market. Jenny does love the summer strawberries.” She traced a basket of them resting on a crate. “What’s going on with you?”

 

Alice’s smirk turned into a grimace as she relayed the story, she paused for a moment to take it all in. “That can’t be it, the clockwork people were months ago.”

 

“So you’ve seen them?”

 

“Not personally, that was back with Twelve and Clara.” She bit her lip. “It doesn’t add up though, they were destroyed.”

 

“Someone must have taken them out of the rubble, or gotten them beforehand.” Gently, she eased herself onto one of the other barrels.

 

“But who?” Alice took a moment to survey the crowd, eyes narrowing as they landed on a woman purchasing a small bundle of pears. “That’s odd.”

 

“What?” Yaz looked in her direction. “I don’t see anything.”

 

“Her,” Alice gestured vaguely, “Her clothes detail her to be in the lower end of the middle class, but-”

 

“Her earrings.”

 

“Exactly!” Her grin returned. “They’re too expensive for her to have, much less wear on a normal outing, besides, they’re too old.”

 

Yaz leaned back in her seat, skeptically. “If they’re too old, they could just be an heirloom.”

 

“Heirlooms traditionally have reverence attached. They seem to be from the Tudor era, with a pearl drop like that. Also,” she gestured to another woman, “she’s wearing a Roman necklace, see how blocky it is? It’s meant for a man, I think.” She turned back to Yaz. “No one in their class could afford it, much less pay for it. Anyone who knew the proper Victorian way wouldn’t dare to wear them out like this.”

 

“So they’re not human?” She considered the thought.

 

“Definitely not, besides,” her eyes widened once more as she ran her fingers across the side of a box. “Look at this.”

 

Yaz bent forward to get a better look. The boards fit together seamlessly, as if, “they’d grown to bond with it.”

 

By now, Alice was grinning like a Cheshire. “No wonder she didn't tell you what they were, she didn't know. Faeries don’t exist in the whoverse.”

 

“Faeries?”

 

“Celtic folklore faeries. The sort of fey that would steal your children and curse you, etc. They’re trying to blend in with a sort of illusion, using past tributes and things they’ve pilfered to reveal who they are to others. There’s no nails in this because they have no use with their abilities. Look around,” she jerked her head, “I'll bet you won’t find a single piece of iron around here, they can’t touch it. I don’t know if they’re my sort of fey, but they’re definitely fey of some sort.”

 

“So what do we do?” She’d opted to ignore the part about ‘her own fey.’ The Doctor went off on the same sorts of tangents without bothering to acknowledge questions, with the tirade Alice was on, she seemed to be the same.

 

“You are going to Madame Vastra’s,” she extracted a few slips of paper from her skirt, along with a notepad, absentmindedly handing the paper while scribbling out a message. “Take this to her and let me know when you get there, my number’s at the bottom.” She stopped cold. “You do have your phone, right?” 

 

“Yeah,” she took the paper. “What are you going to do?”

 

Alice pulled out a hand mirror and removed her blue slip of a hat, revealing a tiara inlaid with red stones. “This was a tribute to mother, I should fit right in.” She rolled her eyes at Yaz’s expression. “I’m a faerie myself and I’m not about to leave the Doctor unsupervised. Here,” hefting up her skirt, she pulled a futuristic looking pistol from a garter. 

 

“What am I supposed to do with this?” Paper stowed away, she held it awkwardly.

 

“It’s not lethal, don’t worry.” Alice rolled her eyes again, taking another and fitting it into a pocket. “I can’t do anything about the design, but they’re perfectly safe. Nat won’t let me go anywhere without at least two. You’re a cop, right?”

 

Grudgingly, Yaz hid it within the folds of her skirt. “I know how to shoot, but I’m not an American, we don’t resort to them as easily.” She raised her eyes, almost pleadingly. “Let me help, I'm not about to hide while you go off on your own.”

 

“The most good you can do right now is get to Vastra’s,” she gave herself a once over in her mirror before returning it (to wherever the hell she was getting these things), putting a hand up at Yaz’s protests. “This isn’t supposed to exist, so I can’t exactly guarantee your safety. I wasn’t there for Clara or Bill, but I’m damn sure I’m going to keep you alive.” She stood. “Don’t worry about all this, no one’s going to notice any scheming. The address is on the card and you can go up to any policemen and ask where it is. They’ll know.” She gave a quick smile before disappearing into the crowd, her last words so quick and quiet Yaz almost lost them. 

 

“I’ll let you know if I need Pond.”