Update Part 1

So itโ€™s been a while since Iโ€™ve done much of anything on this blog ^^; School had consumed pretty much my entire existence so Iโ€™ve been behind on prompts and shirking the Zepheera-Visions, and Iโ€™ve also gotten myself deeply involved with the @brothersapart universe.

But thatโ€™s not all Iโ€™ve been up to.

Introducing Borrowed Magic, my first co-written AU in the BTaS universe!

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Art ยฉ @lotminx [Deviantart] a lovely commission of the babs

@neonthewrite has lent me her Bowman to join in the shenanigans of my borrower OC Zepheera and the Tenth Doctor in my crossover series Borrowed Time and Space. Fittingly enough, weโ€™ve named this AU Borrowed Magic.

Iโ€™ve poked at ideas for AUs of BTaS before, mostly to allow for interactions with more of the Tenth Doctorโ€™s companions, but this one has the potential for so much fun. Not only is Bowman a spitfire of a sassball, but itโ€™s interesting to throw yet another non-human companion into the mix! His life in Wellwood has in no way prepared him for travel in time and space, and it doesnโ€™t help that heโ€™s the youngest and the smallest on board (due to the slight scale difference, Zepheera ends up a whole half-inch taller than the sprite, much to his annoyance). 

This is a young AU, but Neon and I do have plans in store for these dorks. Iโ€™ll start posting excerpts semi-regularly, and weโ€™ll take any questions involving the AU!

For now, hereโ€™s a sneak peek at our first completed story!


โ€œZepheera, answer me!โ€


Who is Zepheera?

The insistent call deepened the concerned frown on Bowmanโ€™s face. He watched the tall man with hardly-blinking eyes for a moment before registering that there could be another human out there. That made his wings fan open and closed as he scanned the forest for another giant nearby.

He was thinking he might have to fly a short distance to find another giant crashing around in the woods. Keeping track of all intruders was imperative for the safety of the village. Bowman turned, aiming to look behind himself first.

He did a double take at the sight of someone on the branch with him.

โ€œSpiritโ€™s dance!โ€ he yelped, flinching backwards. He stumbled off the end of the branch, but his wings caught him easily, flaring open and pulling him back up to hover level with one of the strangest people heโ€™d ever seen. They had skin that looked a bit pale compared to his own, but not as pale as the tall human a distance away. Most important was the lack of any sort of wings on their back, despite otherwise being sprite-sized.

โ€œWhat โ€ฆ who are you?!โ€


Look out for Part 2 of this update, coming soon

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Prompt: Rainbow

((Iโ€™m back! Fell into a bit of a writerโ€™s block earlier in the week, but Iโ€™m slowly getting back on track! Anyway, hereโ€™s another prompt from this list of one-word prompts. Feel free to send in one!))


Zepheera crept furtively up to the drawing room where she was sure to find her husband. They both kept supplies for their personal crafts in there โ€“ pinched fabric and old socks and small pins for Zepheeraโ€™s sewing and knitting, and paper scraps and pencil tips for Orrickโ€™s drawing โ€“ but Orrick used it most often. There was a sizable crack in the floorboard that made up the ceiling in the small room, giving him ideal lighting (second only to sketching outside, which was risky for a five-inch-tall man).

He sat with his back to the door, granting Zepheera the perfect opportunity to sneak up on him and plant a quick kiss on his fair cheek.

โ€œHappy anniversary,โ€ she chirped, wrapping her arms around his shoulders from behind.

Orrick started, then sighed and took one of Zepheeraโ€™s hands in his left one (his right was used for drawing and therefore covered in graphite). โ€œAh yes, how festive. Celebrating five years of marriage with a heart attack. Love you too, Zeph.โ€

Sarcasm aside, he smiled and pecked the back of Zepheeraโ€™s hand. She chuckled and pulled away, pulling up an empty spool to sit alongside him.

โ€œAnd I was still thoughtful enough to make you this.โ€ She presented a coil of rope sheโ€™d made to replace the one that had snapped on him a month and a half prior. This one sheโ€™d twisted herself using three lengths of dark-colored sewing thread to allow for more stability and durability. โ€œCouldnโ€™t manage to swipe your hook, but now that itโ€™s officially yours we can attach it later.โ€

Orrickโ€™s mouth hung open as he hastily cleaned his hands on a damp cloth. He took the rope in a firm grip, testing its strength and observing the feel of it.

โ€œSo this is what youโ€™ve been sneakinโ€™ around to do,โ€ he smirked.

She nudged him playfully. โ€œUnlike some, Iโ€™ve been borrowing since I was ten. Iโ€™ve long since mastered the art of the sneak.โ€

He pulled Zepheera in close, her slim frame fitting right into the crook of his arm. โ€œI love it. Thanks.โ€

Zepheera smiled and leaned into his chest.

โ€œAlright, letโ€™s see what youโ€™ve drawn for me this time.โ€

Regardless of how long sheโ€™d known him, Orrickโ€™s skill still managed to impress Zepheera. Not only was his talent for pencil sketches unmatched by anyone sheโ€™d had ever met, but he was able to remember moments and images with uncanny accuracy and then transfer them into a drawing without flaw.

He never got tired of drawing Zepheera. There didnโ€™t even need to be an occasion, but Zepheera was sure to receive a drawing from her husband for her birthday or an anniversary. Usually of herself and always unprompted.

She recognized this yearโ€™s portrait as a scene from their trip to the garden two weeks before. It had been raining for four days straight, keeping the humans in the house at all times, which in turn all but trapped the borrowers in their own home under the floor. Orrick and Zepheera knew it was irrational to be afraid of a flood washing away their livelihood since the house was on elevated ground, but after days of being cooped up they started to worry. Finally a bright, sunny day came along and the humans went into town too resupply and socialize. This left Zepheera and Orrick ample time to meander about the less waterlogged parts of the garden.

In the picture, Zepheera was leaning back on her hands, basking in the sunlight with her eyes closed. She remembered the exact moment: the way the warm breeze had blown through her long, dark hair and blessedly filled her lungs with the fresh air they had been deprived of all week. She just hadnโ€™t realized Orrick had been watching.

She gaped at the level of detail in the sketch, from the tiny four-petal flower Orrick had picked and tucked behind Zepheeraโ€™s ear, to the clouds in the sky andโ€ฆ

โ€œWhatโ€™s that?โ€ She pointed to a gray streak that stretched across the sky, darker and more linear than the fluffy clouds.

โ€œItโ€™s a rainbow,โ€ he explained.

Zepheera frowned at it for a moment. โ€œC’mon, I pointed it out to you. Donโ€™t you remember?โ€

Recognition lit up Zepheeraโ€™s deep violet eyes. โ€œOh yeah, I remember. But that was later on, I was half-asleep.โ€

โ€œIt was still there, even if I didnโ€™t notice it at the moment. I was justโ€ฆadmiring a more beautiful view.โ€

Orrick shook his head at the cheesiness of his own line.

Zepheera smiled anyway, moving the drawing from his lap to her own. The rainbow didnโ€™t really matter too much. At the end of the day, it was a background detail in a portrait that was focused entirely on Zepheera.

โ€œThanks, love. Itโ€™s wonderful.โ€

Orrick gave her shoulders a squeeze and kissed her hair, which had been pulled back into a messy, careless bun.

With a smirk, she added, โ€œI do appreciate how you tried to distinguish the colors from each other.

โ€œWell!โ€ Orrick scoffed, a mirthful smile playing across his lips. โ€œIf you want a life-like rainbow, then youโ€™re going to have to borrow your poor deprived husband some colored pencil tips.โ€

โ€œIn this house? With possibly the least artistic humans in existence?โ€ Zepheera giggled.

โ€œExactly.โ€

Now it was Zepheeraโ€™s turn to shake her head.

โ€œYouโ€™re a dunce,โ€ she sighed.

โ€œYeah, but Iโ€™m your dunce.โ€

Zepheera smirked and lifted her chin to meet his bright blue gaze. โ€œAnd donโ€™t you forget it.โ€

She leaned up as he leaned down to press his lips against hers. In that moment, they couldnโ€™t be more content.

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Prompt: Hollow

Part one of a three-part story which combines two prompts from @wingedkuriboh27, one of which is shown below. The second prompt will be revealed tomorrow in the third part, which is a Zepheera-Vision.

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This is in reference to this list of one-word prompts. Feel free to send me one!


Earth, 2085 A.D.

No matter how adaptable borrowers could be to their environments, they couldnโ€™t escape the rise of technology for long. They werenโ€™t a worldwide phenomenon yet, but a few poor souls had fallen into the hands of human scientists. The lucky ones were studied humanely. Others were experimented on.

Zepheera supposed her luck would have had to run out eventually.

She didnโ€™t regret it, not for a second. Her sacrifice distracted the searchers from a hidden colony sheโ€™d established long ago. Rather than lose all those lives and their hard work, Zepheera led the humans far away and allowed herself to be captured.

For the good of her people.

As a result, Zepheera ended up in the custody of scientists whose main role was to test new drugs. Until the recent discovery of borrowers, theyโ€™d had to resort to testing on rodents. In their minds, borrowers were close enough in physiology to humans that they made perfect test subjects. However, theyโ€™d only managed to scrounge up a handful of the tiny people along with Zepheera, so they kept the rodents around as a fallback.

This turned out to be a smart move as all of the other borrower test subjects died under the scientists’โ€ฆcare. Either they overdosed or starved themselves out or passed away from some other incidental circumstance. The humans did little to prevent their deaths, happy to perform autopsies and postmortems on the miniature cadavers.

Zepheera, on the other hand, they fought to keep her alive. She wasnโ€™t like the others. They found out quickly that she could heal wounds momentarily; sheโ€™d been nicked by the pair of scissors theyโ€™d used to snip off the clothes sheโ€™d been wearing. They gave her a simple frock and decided she was their most valuable specimen, to be kept alive at any cost. They even force fed her when she participated in the hunger strike with the few friends sheโ€™d been able to make in that hell.

Now, she could barely remember any of their names, her brain was so addled with drugs.

They had her on a rotation. Theyโ€™d give her one drug one day, give her two days to recover, and then start again with a different drug. She never learned the names of these drugs, but she recognized them from how they made her feel. One made her hyper and restless, another filled her with manic rage, and yet another made her unreasonably happy.

Todayโ€™s drug simply made her feel hollow.


Part 1ย | Part 2 | Part 2.5 | Part 3


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Prompt: Evanesce

Hope you were expecting angst! (though honestly, how could you not with a word likeย โ€˜evanesceโ€™ xD)

This is actually a bit of a sneak peek into a future plot point for my main story. Itโ€™s not an excerpt, but itโ€™s a little look into an otherwise unseen character whose story will be told soon.

In reference to this list of one-word prompts. Feel free to send me one!


It was the cold that drew Orrick Shelf from sleep. The bed he shared with his wife was always warm when he woke up. If she was awake before him, she waited for him so they could make, or in some cases find breakfast together.

So he was confused when he groggily reached a hand to her side of the bed to find it empty.

He sat up in bed, wrapping the blanket tightly around himself as his head cleared of the fog of sleep. Rubbing his bright blue eyes, he distantly wondered where his wife could be. A quick look around the room told him it was empty. Just like the bed.

With the blanket still draped over his shoulders, he got up and checked the storeroom just adjacent to the bedroom. Still there was no sign of his wife. None of the food had even been touched.

The kitchen and sitting rooms turned up empty as well. By then Orrick was fully awake and worried.

Then he remembered. His wife would sometimes go borrowing on her own. Sheโ€™d never done it this early in the morning, but on many occasions Orrick would wake up from a nap to a note on her pillow explaining where sheโ€™d gone. Maybe she had done the same here. After all, if she was out in the humansโ€™ territory of the house, she must be dead-set on getting something.

A wave of relief swept over Orrick when he returned to the bedroom and saw a slip of paper on the pillow. He sighed heavily, shaking his head at his own inattention. It was with a smile that he picked up and unfolded the note, a little excited to hear about what was so important as to warrant such an early borrowing.

His smile melted and ice shot through his gut as he read the mere two words scratched onto the scrap of paper.

Iโ€™m sorry

He frowned, rereading and turning the note over to ensure sheโ€™d left him nothing else. What the hell does that mean?

Orrickโ€™s heart was racing, blood roaring in his ears. She couldn’tโ€ฆ She wouldnโ€™t! He simply could not conceive a plausible reason for the love of his life to vanish into thin air!

He ran from room to room, this time calling her name almost nonstop. He got dressed and spent the entire day checking every safe square inch of the house, and all night he searched the humansโ€™ rooms, hoping beyond hope.

In the end, he returned to the home that now only belonged to him. Exhausted, but he couldnโ€™t bear to sleep. Hungry, but he couldnโ€™t bring himself to eat. He dropped his gear off near the door and sat wearily in the nearest chair.

Running his hands through his sharp red hair, he willed himself to pull it together. He couldnโ€™t afford to wallow in misery over his wifeโ€™s disappearance. He could almost hear her now, repeating the words she would always say when they went through rough times. Itโ€™s okay. We can survive this.

Surviving was a far cry from understanding. It just didnโ€™t make sense. They were happy, always had been. He hadnโ€™t been treating her any differently recently than he had in all the time he knew her โ€“ and even if he had without realizing it, she would let him know in no uncertain terms. In hindsight, his wife had seemed a bit distracted the last few days, but nothing sheโ€™d said or done even remotely hinted at her intentions to leave.

Orrick let out a long breath and hugged his knees close to his chest. None of that mattered. Looking into the past would do nothing to change the fact that his wife was gone. And she seemed to have done so willingly, leaving no hint as to a reason why or an intention to ever come back.

Zepheera may have disappeared, but his love for her would never evanesce.

Stuck in the Middle

BTaS Canon: No
Episode: Day of the Doctor
Doctor(s): Tenth, Eleventh, and War Doctors
Companions: Zepheera

Previously


Zepheera had resigned herself to keep quiet while the two most recent incarnations of the Doctor rode out the novelty of being together with their four and a half inch tall companion. Ten, who hadnโ€™t met Zepheera yet in his timeline, kept trying to surreptitiously learn about what was in store for him and the borrower. She or Eleven, depending on who spoke first, would always answer these types of questions with the word โ€œSpoilers,โ€ and Ten would moan about how the timelines were โ€œtoo wibbly and I wonโ€™t remember anyway!โ€ This only earned him a shrug and elicited a short-lived pout.

Zepheera hadnโ€™t realized how much she had missed that pout.

Eventually the youngest incarnation of the Doctor insisted that they should be making some progress with the whole Zygon-invasion-and-painting-of-Gallifrey problem. The other two conceded and stood in unison. Zepheera got to her feet as well, throwing her single-strapped rucksack over her shoulder.

She turned to find two upturned hands in front of her, both acting as platform for her to climb on. When she looked up, the Doctors were staring each other down.

โ€œBack off, Sandshoes!โ€ hissed the Eleventh Doctor, nudging his counterpart away. โ€œSheโ€™s not your companion yet!โ€

โ€œExactly! You can spend all the time you like with her, and I wanna know what I have to look forward to! Iโ€™m dying for a sneak peek.โ€ Ten exclaimed.

Zepheera bit back a cringe at his phrasing.

Eleven shot back, โ€œYou havenโ€™t met her yet. She hasnโ€™t had time to properly train you up.โ€

โ€œOh, come on, you know sheโ€™s not the first life form her size Iโ€™ve encountered!โ€

โ€œWell itโ€™s different when you live with one, and take it from me who took it from her, you are a shrugger!โ€

This took the Tenth Doctor aback. He glanced between his future self and his future companion. โ€œI am?โ€ he asked, sounding subdued.

Eleven nodded emphatically. โ€œAnd a fidgeter.โ€

โ€œOh, for Godโ€™s sake!โ€ sighed the War Doctor, waiting semi-patiently as the other two squabbled. โ€œYou fools are arguing over the lady as though she isnโ€™t here! If anyoneโ€™s going to decide who she goes along with, it should be her.โ€

Ten and Eleven shared a sheepish look and nodded, mumbling apologies to Zepheera. They stood quietly, waiting for the borrower to make her choice.

Zepheera smiled gratefully at the War Doctor, who nodded once in return. He was an enigmatic one, that much was certain, but he seemed just as sweet and caring as the Doctors she knew and loved. She made a mental note to find some time alone with him later, sit down and get to know the Doctor before she knew him.

But for now, she had a decision to make. After a short moment of deliberation, she took a deep breath and approached Eleven. He clapped his hands triumphantly before offering her one to climb onto. Ten sighed but accepted Zepheeraโ€™s choice. As Eleven lifted her to his shoulder, she shot Ten an apologetic look.

โ€œYou are fidgety. And a shrugger,โ€ she admitted. Ten nodded, barely suppressing a pout at Elevenโ€™s smug look.

A small smirk tugged at Zepheeraโ€™s lip. โ€œTo your credit, though, you did train up faster than this one.โ€

Ten snorted and Elevenโ€™s jaw dropped in indignation. โ€œOh, thanks a lot there, pipsqueak! Letโ€™s just go already.โ€

โ€œFinally,โ€ muttered the War Doctor.

As they were leaving, Ten crept up behind Eleven and softly asked Zepheera, โ€œHow on Earth do you even stay up there with, y’knowโ€ฆโ€ He rubbed his chin, raising a questioning eyebrow at the small woman.

โ€œHe slouches,โ€ hissed Zepheera in reply, twisting around to wink conspiratorially at Ten.

โ€œOh, leave off, you two!โ€ grumbled Eleven.

Ten smirked. โ€œI have a feeling I like you, Zepheera.โ€

โ€œI should hope so,โ€ she said, facing front again before he could catch the hint of sadness that made it into her smile and eyes.

Iโ€™ve missed you.


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Timey-Wimey Tidbits #09

More of a headcanon with regard to Ten

Officially, Time Lords are fairly immune to the affects of alcohol, and can only get drunk if they want to. In addition, they can very easily snap themselves out of it.

The Doctor, in his Tenth incarnation, is both a silly drunk and a sad drunk, depending on the circumstances and the level of drunk he allows himself to be. There is no in between.

Imagine Zepheera stumbling upon her Time Lord after heโ€™s had way more than a few. Heโ€™s either singing loudly and off-key and laughing at/with inanimate objects, or heโ€™s curled up in a ball of despair shaking with silent sobs. Either way, the borrower will eventually get noticed and heโ€™ll suddenly become very still, all effects of inebriation leaving him at once.

Zepheera will comfort him without even questioning what drove him to get so drunk in the first place, especially in the latter situation. Sheโ€™ll remind him that whatโ€™s done is in the past, and heโ€™s not alone anymore.

Zepheera-Vision — Geronimo!

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The power of the Doctorโ€™s regeneration knocked Zepheera over, her back hitting the console hard. The heat was incredibly intense, and she scrambled away before she could be too badly burnt. Then the console beneath her sparked forcefully, throwing Zepheera off completely. She landed on the catwalk floor, all the air shoved out of her lungs from the blow.ย 

Her eyes darted around anxiously as she caught her breath. Everything was on fire. Hot, molten sparks poured from the ceiling, tongues of flame erupted from the floor. A particularly large burst of fire destroyed the integrity of one of the coral supports surrounding the console and, with its connections to both the ceiling and the floor gone, it began to tip inward.

Right toward Zepheera.

Her wits snapped into place at the sight of the massive falling structure, and she shot to her feet and darted toward the underside of the console. The controls themselves would act as a (woefully shallow) awning to hopefully protect her from being crushed, but just in case she ran along the bottom edge in an attempt to get as far away from the danger as possible.

The support crashed into the floor loudly, the actual impact landing far from Zepheera. But it immediately crumbled into pieces, which tumbled next to the console. The tremors caused by the fragments cost Zepheera her balance once again, only this time she was able to catch herself before her face could smash into the harsh metal. Opting to not risk another fall, Zepheera crawled away from the debris.

A voice broke through the rumbling chaos, a scream coming from the Doctorโ€™s direction. Zepheera looked up to find that she was behind the Time Lord, so close that she had to flip onto her back just to make out his head. She watched as his hair suddenly became longer and the scream gave way into an entirely new manโ€™s voice. The regeneration energy dissipated and he went quiet.

But the TARDIS was still falling apart, and a loud crash prompted the Doctor to turn around. Whether it was because he was not used to his new body or if it was simply in his nature to be out-of-balance now, he stumbled around from the momentum of the simple action. Zepheera hadnโ€™t even had time to register what he looked like now, because her focus was entirely on those aimless feet that were a little too close for her liking. Donโ€™t step on me donโ€™t step on me please donโ€™t,ย she thought frantically as she backed away from him.

โ€œLegs!โ€ the new voice cried as one of the feet lifted into the air. โ€œIโ€™ve still got legs!โ€ She looked up to find the Doctor grasping his knee and kissing it gratefully.ย โ€œGood!โ€ He let his leg fall back into place.

โ€œDoctor!โ€ Zepheera called up, but he was preoccupied. His gaze wandered about his body, checking to make sure everything was in order, all with wide and curious eyes.

โ€œArms!โ€ he exclaimed.ย โ€œHands! Ooh, fingers! Lots of fingers!โ€ He wiggled them in front of his face, further distracting him from the borrower trying to get his attention.

Looking around, Zepheera found that one of her ladders to the console had somehow survived the destruction mostly unscathed; it was missing a few rungs and was slightly singed, but Zepheera had climbed worse. She hurried over and ascended the ladder as fast as she could while the Doctor carried on:ย โ€œEars: yes. Eyes: two. Nose…mm, Iโ€™ve had worse. Chin…blimey! Hair…Iโ€™m a girl!โ€

Zepheera automatically rolled her eyes at the notion that longer hair indicated he was female, but as she pulled herself up onto the console he found his Adamโ€™s apple and decided that he was not a girl. Before she could start to wave her arms or call his name again, he turned away to inspect his hair closer, pulling it in front of his eyes to the best of his ability.

โ€œAnd still not ginger!โ€

โ€œDoctor!โ€ Zepheera shouted, but it seemed that he was consumed in his own thoughts.

โ€œThereโ€™s something else,โ€ he realized, turning to look around without focus.ย โ€œSomething important, Iโ€™m…Iโ€™m, Iโ€™m–โ€

โ€œDOC–!โ€ An enormous BANGย cut Zepheera short and threw her as well as the Time Lord off-balance. The Doctor caught himself on the console right next to Zepheera, laughing ecstatically.

โ€œCrashing!โ€

Losing patience, Zepheera jumped to her feet and yelled,ย โ€œWould you look at me, you giant idiot?!โ€

That finally drew the Doctorโ€™s wide, now-hazel eyes toward her. He looked at her for a drawn-out moment before his already massive grin grew.

โ€œZepheera!โ€ he exclaimed, pulling himself along the console until his brand-new face was inches from where she stood. It was all she could do to hold her ground at the enormous manโ€™s approach.ย โ€œOh, look at you! I hardly recognized you, you look so different! But the same! Or maybe thatโ€™s just my eyes, same but different!โ€

Another crash cut his ramble short, and Zepheera wavered in the tremors. Suddenly her feet were pushed out from under her and she landed on something soft, warm, and rising in the air. The Doctor had scooped her up and lifted her to his shoulder. Before she could scold him for not warning her, he was circling the console toward the monitor and she needed to hang on tight.

Same old suit,ย she thought absently as she gripped the familiar fabric with white knuckles, then looked up at the Doctorโ€™s profile. Brand new man.

The Doctor was whooping enthusiastically, all the rumbles and the image of the planet spiraling on the screen exciting him even more. The TARDIS was falling to Earth, and the Doctor couldnโ€™t be happier.

โ€œGERONIMOOOO!โ€ bellowed the Doctor.

On top of trying not to panic, Zepheera made a mental note to retrain the Doctorโ€™s volume control.


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Part 1 | Part 2


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Zepheera-Vision — I Donโ€™t Wanna Go

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Zepheera waited patiently for the Doctor to return to the TARDIS. This was his last stop, his last chance to see Rose Tyler, so it was understandable that he would be taking his time. But as the minutes dragged on, she began to wander the console aimlessly, wondering if something had happened to him.

A voice came to her head, giving her pause. They were singing in Latin. She had no idea where the song was coming from, but somehow she knew every word as they came, and who it was all for.

She didnโ€™t realize sheโ€™d been singing along until the doors of the TARDIS opened and closed heavily, and she held her tongue. The Doctor leaned wearily on the doors. After a breath or two, he made his way up the slight incline to the main platform of the room, relying on the short railing. This alone sent an icy pang of worry through Zepheeraโ€™s stomach.ย 

The way he moved, even in an action as simple as shedding his coat and tossing it onto its typical support, made it clear to her that everything hurt. He hesitated, lifting his right hand to eye level. Regeneration energy flowed from it as he turned his wrist, watching golden streaks dance around his fingers. After a moment he curled the hand into a loose fist and let it hang by his side, turning to the console to lock eyes with his four and a half inch tall companion.

It wouldnโ€™t be long now, and they both knew it.

โ€œSo…What happens now?โ€ The borrower knew well enough by now the technical details of regeneration, but she wasnโ€™t sure if she should say something meaningful or sing that song that was still going in the back of her head. She didnโ€™t know if a goodbye was in order since heโ€™d still be the Doctor at the end of the day, just a little different.

The Doctor made his way laboriously around the console, passing Zepheera by entirely.ย โ€œNow…Iโ€™m taking you home,โ€ he said steadily.

Zepheera followed him, frowning in confusion. Disregarding the fact that she didnโ€™t haveย a home outside the TARDIS, she went straight for the important question.

โ€œWhy? Did I do something wrong?โ€

This stopped him in his tracks and he sighed deeply, lowering his gaze to the floor.ย โ€œNo, Zepheera, itโ€™s not like that.โ€

โ€œThen why canโ€™t I stay?โ€ she demanded.

โ€œBecause itโ€™s not safe!โ€ he snapped. He paused to catch his breath from the short outburst, then lowered himself to a kneel with evident effort. Then his brown eyes met her small deep violets.ย โ€œI can feel it, Zepheera. I dunno how, but this oneโ€™s gonna be violent, I just know it. For all I know, I could destroy everything, and…I donโ€™t want to risk you.โ€

Zepheera considered his words, never breaking eye contact. After a deep breath, she crossed her arms and planted her feet on the uneven surface of the console.

โ€œIโ€™ll be careful then,โ€ she asserted. โ€œYou shouldnโ€™t be alone for this. I always told you Iโ€™d be here for you, no matter what. That Iโ€™d never be afraid of you. I donโ€™t care if you change your face, Doctor, Iโ€™m keeping that bloody promise.โ€

Even so, the Doctor looked conflicted, and his gaze wandered indecisively.

In the silence between them, Zepheera noticed the song in her head gaining momentum. Deciding it couldnโ€™t hurt, she joined in with the chorus once again.

โ€œVale decem…โ€

The Doctorโ€™s attention snapped back to the borrower.ย โ€œYou hear it, too,โ€ he realized.

In answer, Zepheera smiled sadly as she sang. The words, though foreign to her, were a perfect representation of her feelings. It was a farewell, but also a comfort. The Doctor returned the smile and pushed himself to his feet. Clearly her mind would not be changed. And honestly, she was right. He needed the company.

Nunquam singularis…

He pulled the lever to send the TARDIS flying into orbit above the Earth. That gorgeous noise filled the air alongside the sound of the universe singing the Doctor to his sleep.

Nunquam…

He glanced down to find tears streaming down his small friendโ€™s face, reaching a gentle hand to wipe them away. Zepheera, still singing, trembled at this contact, and before he could pull his finger away she grabbed hold of it, pulling it into a tight embrace.

Dum spiro fido…

It was only when his hand began to glow again that he pulled it away from her grasp. He ruffled her hair with a finger like he always used to, but without the usual humor, and walked to the other side of the console to separate himself from her. Zepheera just barely refrained from following, heeding his earlier warning, but as the chorus in her mind repeated valeย over and over, she circled the other way to see his face one last time before it disappeared.

His breaths were shallow and his eyes were shining.ย โ€œI donโ€™t wanna go,โ€ he declared, a small tremble in his voice. Regeneration energy surrounded his face and flowed from his hands with ever-growing intensity.

The song was over.


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Celebrating 50 followers.

Part 1ย | Part 2 coming tomorrow, more info to follow.


Asks and Prompts are open! | Submissions, too!

Zepheera! (I don’t know the others Dx )

skybluesweatband:

(Thatโ€™s fine, I was just spouting off a bunch of my secondary characters ^^)

Full Name: Just Zepheera.
Gender and Sexuality: Female, demisexual and biromantic
Pronouns: She/her/hers
Ethnicity/Species: Biracial / borrower
Birthplace and Birthdate: London, England; February 8th, 1927.
Guilty Pleasures:ย Dancing and Noel Coward
Phobias: Cats. Bad experiencesโ€ฆ
What They Would Be Famous For: Probably her longevity and how much she can accomplish with her long life.
What They Would Get Arrested For: Idk how sheโ€™d ever get arrested, but Iโ€™d say probably for alleged thievery or civil disobedience.
OC You Ship Them With: His nameโ€™s Orrick, another borrower of course. Heโ€™s adorable. If only I could just let them be happy ;^;
OC Most Likely To Murder Them: I donโ€™t think I have one yet. >.>
Favorite Movie/Book Genre: Fantasy
Least Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: Romance and horror.
Talents and/or Powers: Sheโ€™s a great borrower, a master at hiding, sneaking, and general intrusion and espionage / Healing factor and augmented lifespan.
Why Someone Might Love Them: She is caring and passionate, with an occasionally motherly personality.
Why Someone Might Hate Them: She can be pretty closed off about herself to strangers, so I suppose that could come off as cold.
How They Change: She learns that she doesnโ€™t have to settle. She can make her own destiny and live the life she wants.
Why You Love Them: She is my smol child, and yet I want to grow up to be her x3