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A Clever Companion (Part 1)A WhoLock Fan Fiction
The Doctor pushed his way through the milling crowds in Central London. He never should have come here. That note had to be delivered, but now he had places to go, things to do, galaxies to explore and—
Not him. They were talking to someone else, had to be. There were plenty of men named "John" in London.
"John!" the muffled cry came again. Definitely him. The Doctor sighed. He wondered briefly if he should find another alias. After all, he had been going by 'John Smith' since even before Jamie suggested it—and that had been hundreds of years ago (just how many, the Doctor wasn't sure). If he could just make it one more block, the TARDIS was right around the corner, and—
The Doctor froze. In all his years, he had always gone by 'Smith,' Always. Never deviated except for that one time in Victorian London when he thought it would be fun, just this once, to try a new name.
It never would have mattered if that man (Stamcroft or Swa
Blue Eyes in FlamesWhen the prince sees the flower bloom from the palm of her hand, he orders her arrest.
She is only seven years old.
He takes the flower from her and keeps it, even though he knows he shouldn't. He puts it a vase, or, rather, his servant does that for him. The flower doesn't ever die, even years later.
It's dawn of a December morning, and he's cold. But still, he stands next to his father dutifully and looks at the little girl with blue eyes that are now black from seven nights sleeping on a cold, dungeon floor behind bars. They cut off her dark brown hair during that time. She's tied to the pyre, and there are seven guards around her, holding sharper swords than normal, not that she could get away. There's one man dressed in black holding an unlit torch, with a mask over his face to prevent his death. His father raises his arm, and the torch is lit.
She locks her gaze to his, and he blinks at her. It's like she expects him to prevent it. He couldn't, though, he can't. She scares him, w
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