How Temperance and Solitude Fared in the Bath
“Oh! That’s lovely, but... oi! Why are you touching me there?”
“We are to prepare you. The Lady has proclaimed it.”
The new new new new new new new new new new Doctor ran his hands through his floppy brown hair and sighed. At least the locals in his memory were friendly... if a bit empty headed.
“Wait! What Lady? I haven’t seen any Lady but my TARDIS Iraj, and she’s disappeared to Rassilon knows where! Speaking of where, where is this Lady of yours? I have this sudden, insatiable desire to slap-”
But before he could finish his snap a woman’s voice pervaded him, like the breath of strong wind off a storm-battered cliff, and he was afraid. Suddenly he could feel the flutter of something soft on his neck, embracing him, a shroud of feathers weaving themselves about his body. Curious even in his trembling, he opened one eye to see what was engulfing him, and cried out its name in the music of his own tongue as golden light entwined itself through his brain, which was floating somewhere else, probably in his skull. He hoped so, anyway.
“Not... not feathers... hair! Long. Golden. Hair! It’s You! Daleg Ulv! You’re still... you’re still inside me?”
Then he wasn’t afraid anymore, because the Darkness came on him, and he blinked, only to glimpse three crisp roses lying on snow, like in a fairy tale told to children. He bent to pick each bloom delicately from the ice but was pricked as he retrieved each one, one prick, two pricks, three pricks. Blood welled along his finger and fell in three drops. Then a triplicate movement stirred in his long-lost belly, and he opened his eyes once more to the sound of rushing water, the hard gush of a cross-flow spilling from between his legs.
It was then, in the clutch of the first, the foreign liquid, that the pain came upon him. But when he screamed, only fluid filled his mouth.