[ For timeforamy ; chivalric code ]

[mmkaternater]

There aren't a lot of perks in facing your imminent demise come sunrise, but the Doctor has managed to grab on to a few. Perk One: If they know that tonight could very well be your last night on earth, they're going to put you up in very posh lodgings. (Of course, in 14th century England, this roughly equates to a mite-free mattress and not having to share your chamber pot with three other people, but all's fair in love and Medieval diplomacy.) Perk Two: If you are allowed to choose the contents of your last meal and you ask for fish custard, the people who are guarding you are going to give you a very strange look but will not, for the most part, object to you saying that you want to pop down to the bin to make it yourself. Which is when you manage to lose them in the castle's maze of twisting, windy stone corridors.

Actually, this perk might be better than the one about the chamber pot.

Given the volume of the shouting coming from far distant hallways, the Doctor figures he has about fifteen minutes before his dine-and-dash tactic is discovered. 'Plenty of time to find Amy and see that this whole "upon the morning" business is sorted before anyone gets hurt. Specifically, the Doctor himself.

The hallways are like highways, clogged with people and very irritated guards, so the Doctor has taken the overpass. Actually, he's taken the ledge outside one of the castle windows, scooting along the narrow cropping of stone, fingers dug into the mortar. He pokes his head into a window, only to get a chorus of high-pitched screams in return --

"Sorry, ladies! I'll be on my way. Sorry for the intrusion. Lovely bathrobes, by the way!"

-- before he edges along the wall to the next set of windows.

On the massive, four-poster bed in one of the rooms, the Doctor sees a pair of black leggings and a leather jacket. Amy. He grips the window frame and leans in, tapping his knuckle against the leaded glass.

Comments

[timeforamy.livejournal.com]

She puts her hand in his, her fingers clasping over his own. "Don't blame me for the show of masculinity that's going to happen at dawn," she volleys back, her tone petulant. "It's very clear to me whose arm I'm on, and voluntarily. I don't understand why he's become so..angry with you."

[goodwithtime.livejournal.com]

"I suppose it all comes down to attitudes and perceptions. We are rather...familiar...with one another." He lifts her onto the ledge with him. "He probably thinks I'm a bit fresh for a knight."

[timeforamy.livejournal.com]

"He said something to me -"

Amy has a moment where she can't quite recall, but it comes back to her as quickly as it left. She remembers Sir Rorrick's eyes, the way he had looked at her, and it makes her wonder.

" - something about..he'd give his sword and shield to.."

She shakes her head. "It sounded poetic."

[goodwithtime.livejournal.com]

"Well, there's your first problem," the Doctor says dryly. "First poetry, then threats of violence? We really should be educating our children about the dangers of Keats and other ruffians who write like him. I wager far more young people have been hurt by poetry than the likes of video games."

He's kidding, of course. But what she said about Rorrick bothers him -- has been bothering him -- ever since they left the hall. The way the knight looked at Amy; the way she looked at him... It's almost as if she had been trying to pull memories through him.

The Doctor brushes his smarting palms on the front of his trousers. They're very close to the highest part of Dover Castle, on the rampart just below the top tower, and the view is incredible. From here, the sea looks like a vast, flat disc, unchanging. Though he knows their pursuers are close, too, the Doctor can't resist bounding over to the wall to look out at the ocean. He rests his elbows on the old, old stone and looks out on a thing as vast and timeless as the universe itself.

His expression is suddenly very far away.

[timeforamy.livejournal.com]

It doesn't take Amy long to join him, to rise over the wall and come to his side. There's something in his face that's hitting a place in her heart she doesn't want to feel, because there's pain there and the idea she might be causing it for him doesn't sit well in her lower stomach. But has he been keeping something from her?

And where did that thought come from?

If Amy's honest with herself, she's been wondering after it a little while now. There's something in the Doctor's face that is worrying at her subconscious, and while she can't place a finger on it, it's definitely there.

Her palm comes to rest against his shoulder, gentle.

"Look at me?"

[goodwithtime.livejournal.com]

He turns. "Hm?"

[timeforamy.livejournal.com]

"Did you think I'd leave with him?"

[goodwithtime.livejournal.com]

The Doctor's mind makes a frightening leap, skipping right over specifics and into a place where the mire is deep and his thoughts are less guarded. He thought she meant Rory. Did you think I'd leave with Rory? He swallows around several small stones. Would she leave? Maybe. Would she leave if she knew what she was missing? It twists the Doctor's stomach to speculate. He doesn't like that.

"Of course not." A pause while he grips the stone beneath his hands. "Would you have?"

[timeforamy.livejournal.com]

But he does think it - or at least something in her heart tells her that he might be afraid of it. Amy doesn't miss noticing the tension in his hands, the change in his grip. It stays with her, like an afterimage flash after a photograph is taken.

Amy tilts her head, pressing her forehead against his. She remembers a time he did the same thing to her - more than one time, at that - and what the gesture meant then. Now, it means very similar - and yet, some different - things.

"What do I have to do, or say, to convince you that I'm not going to leave you?"

[goodwithtime.livejournal.com]

"Amy, you don't understand. You can't begin to --" he pulls his attention away, out across the ocean. For a moment or two he tries to sync his breathing with the pull of the surf down below. 'Thinks that he's got it, only to note that the sea has changed on him.

"What do you remember?" he asks. "Our time together. Chasing through the stars. What do you remember about it?"

[timeforamy.livejournal.com]

What did she remember? What sort of a question was that? Amy wants to ask him if he's barmy, but she doesn't because she knows he's serious. Knows that there's something being unsaid that needs to be contended with, brought up and -

- and what?

"I remember it," she says, "you know that I do. You were there. The crack in my wall was following me, and it still is. And all the places we saw, the Daleks, the Weeping Angels - everything. Why are you asking me that, why does it matter? You were with me."

[goodwithtime.livejournal.com]

"Think, Amy. Try. What do you remember? Is that all of it? Or is there something else...something deep down...something that you think you know but aren't quite sure about. The thing inside you without a voice."

He turns his pale eyes to her. Intense. He needs her to remember. He does not want to do it for her.

"What's missing?"

[timeforamy.livejournal.com]

Something is hurting in the back of her mind, a dark spot that's bright and hard at the same time, and Amy wants to shut her eyes to tell it to go away. But she doesn't, instead she holds to his gaze. He's looking at her with a fierce intensity that's making her heart beat faster, and she knows that it means something she can't find words for.

A tear slips down her cheek, and she doesn't know where it came from.

"It..I.."

[goodwithtime.livejournal.com]

The Doctor takes in a breath and raises his hand, half shadow in the moonlight, to steady her by the shoulder. "Amy --"

"He's up here, lads!"

A splash of torches against gray stone and they're discovered. The Doctor takes Amy's hand and breaks into a run down the balustrade.

[timeforamy.livejournal.com]

Whatever has been brought up is forgotten for now, and Amy grasps the Doctor's hand as she breaks into a run with him. The guards - if that's what they are? - are chasing them and her shoes are slapping against the stone.

"Where are we going to go?" she cries.

[goodwithtime.livejournal.com]

"Wherever they aren't!" the Doctor shouts, turning to look over his shoulder as the first wave of guards stumbles out onto the archway. They are weighed down by their heavy armor, which is good, because it gives the Doctor and Amy -- in their lightweight tweed and velvet, respectively -- the chance to move quickly.

But the guards know the layout of the castle better than their quarry, and the Doctor scuffs to a hard stop before the edge of a drop-off, catching Amy by the arm before she goes over, too. He pulls her roughly against his chest and looks up: a rope and a rudimentary pulley system, used for moving rocks from one level of the castle to the other.

"Do you trust me?" he asks, darting a look back to her.

[timeforamy.livejournal.com]

What a silly question - and yet at the same time, Amy knows he needs to know the answer. It's important - to her, and to him. There's something dangerous coming up for them, and if she doesn't trust him -

"Of course I do."

Her fingers squeeze harder on his, and her eyes are wide and fierce.

[goodwithtime.livejournal.com]

"Good. Because I'm about to do something incredibly stupid. Jump!"

He lets go of her hand and suddenly he's airborne: jumping through the black, hands snatched out to grab one end of the rope. If Amy times it right (and he hopes to god that she does), her weight will counter balance his and they'll be out of range. Of swords, anyway. At the very least they'll have some time to plan around the arrows.

The Doctor's palms scream with raw pain as the rope scours his hands. He manages to hold on, though, and for a second or two gravity takes over and he's swinging comically through the air. "COME ON, POND!"

[timeforamy.livejournal.com]

Amy jumps.

She does it without thinking or considering or giving it any real sort of comprehension as to what might happen to her when she does it. It's just simple to her - she trusts him implicitly and if he's asking her to do something then that's exactly what she's going to do.

There's hard, rough rope under her palms and she's grasping at it for dear life, not bothering to quiet the shriek that breaks from her lips. Her eyes are clenched tightly shut but she forces them open, a rough breath coming from her lips

"Doctor!"

[goodwithtime.livejournal.com]

Amy's weight on the other end of the rope balances the pulley and the Doctor's shoulders are practically jacked out of their sockets by a sudden stop. Of course, he's a bit heavier than she is, so gravity's pulling him down while it's lifting her up -- right back to eye level with the guards.

"Amy!"

The guards are reaching for her. One of them holds the mail of the back of another so he can lean out far over the ledge, making a grab for the rope. The Doctor acts without thinking. 'Lets go of the rope and falls -- some ten feet -- to the ground. He lands on both feet with a hell of a clack of his jaw and dives toward the other side of the rope. Without a counter-balance, Amy's in freefall.

Why couldn't we have landed in a place with kinder gravity?

He puts out his arms. Stands. Prays.

[timeforamy.livejournal.com]

"Don't you touch meeeeee!"

Amy is none too fond of being grabbed at by strange men, let alone ones who are taking her away from where she wants to be. It doesn't sit well with her now, or at any other time. Her cry is petulant and annoyed, but she is also falling and there isn't any avoiding that notion.

Her stomach feels as if it has already plummeted to the ground below, but a wild hope of desperation sends her looking down to where the Doctor is waiting. She can't do anything to soften or cushion her weight, and Amy shuts her eyes tightly as she collides with him - in his arms.

[goodwithtime.livejournal.com]

She lands (mostly upright, though not completely dignified) and the Doctor is suddenly swimming in a sea of very heavy green brocade and frilly skirts. He tips awkwardly on his heels but manages to keep his balance, puffing a bit of lace out of his eyes.

"Hello," he greets, grinning from ear to ear, "so glad you could --" he doesn't get to trade in on the pun because the guards are already regrouping. He sets Amy very unceremoniously on her feet and grabs her hand. "Run."

[timeforamy.livejournal.com]

If there hadn't been an entourage of guards chasing after them, Amy would have taken a little longer to revel in how romantic the gesture was. Being swept into the Doctor's arms like that? It's something straight on out of a fairy tale.

But there are guards.

Amy twists her fingers tightly in his and breaks into a run alongside him.

"Where?" she asks, her voice rough. "Where are we going to go? They know this place - where are we going to go?"

Amy doesn't want to add that she might be a bit afraid. Not for herself, but for the Doctor and what might happen to him once their pursuers catch up with them.

[goodwithtime.livejournal.com]

"I don't know! I came up with the last plan -- it's high time you threw your weight around, Pond!" He's only half teasing. They could really use a strategy right about now. The Doctor can hear the guards behind them; an alarm starts to bleat from one of the towers. The Doctor is about out of options and they are about out of ground when --

"Over here!"

The Doctor looks off to his left. Lady Alice Fitzalan, wife-to-be of the good Earl of Kent, is standing in the doorway of a squat church, waving them inside. At this point, the Doctor's in no position to question the directive. He pulls Amy along and together they rush into the sanctuary of the, well, sanctuary. Lady Fitzalan herds them toward the confessional booth at the mouth of the apse. "Quick, inside!" she rushes. 'Shuts them inside. The Doctor is shirt buttons-to-corset with Amy in the small space. "Pardon," he apologizes, with a hint of a blush, trying to sort his limbs in the closeness.

Outside, he hears the guards advance on the church, and Lady Fitzalan's angry protests -- "Would you dare interrupt a bride at prayer? How dare you!" -- as she holds off the worst of their pursuers.

[timeforamy.livejournal.com]

Of all the things which could have happened, Amy wasn't expecting this. The Lady Alice, coming to their rescue? But that was exactly the case, and she wasn't going to put up any sort of argument or fight about it. Not when there was rescue, and it was very much begging for them to come take advantage of it.

The small, confined space barely gave enough room to breathe, but Amy doesn't much mind that kind of closeness. Not when it means they're safe, and - well, she doesn't quite mind being that close to him, either.

In the semidarkness she can only see little bits of his face, slivers of light daring to illuminate him to her. Amy feels her pulse roar in her ears and catches hold of his hands with hers when he tries to shift away from her.

"Don't." Her voice is a whisper in the air between them. "It's okay." Because she doesn't want him to move. Amy likes it when he's this close to her, very, very close and right against her.