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calufraxTitle: many's the time i ran with you down
Author: saywheeeee
Rating: All Ages
Word Count: 2898
Author's Summary: Amy and the Doctor visit Aularind. Based off a scene in "crowns of snow." Winner of Challenge #2 at big_jumps.
Characters/Pairings: Eleven, Amy. Mild Eleven/Amy or friendship
Warnings: None
Recc'ed Because: I had forgotten how beautiful and poetic this story was. That means that I got to re-read and rediscover it. The world-building is beautiful, the characters and settings vibrant and alive, and the ending is a bittersweet reminder of how the Doctor lives from one moment to another, rarely looking back.
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The music starts at high noon. The whole village is awake by then: the cobblestone streets are filled with flowers and children and tables piled with food. Amy has feasted on blackberries, persimmons, peaches, grapes and pine nuts; the musicians’ wives have plied her with dumplings and fresh perch in parsley and honey and something called sea moss; she has had at least four mugs of spiced milk and cinnamon, several glasses of mulled wine, and one excruciating swallow of “fire tea.” She doesn’t know where the Doctor is–getting into trouble somewhere on the other side of the square, she imagines–but she doesn’t care. She leans back in her seat, absently stroking the hair of the five year old girl who has claimed her as a chair, and thinks she could sleep for the rest of the year.
But then the music starts–and suddenly everyone is moving. The little girl jumps off her lap. All around her, the men are striking up harps and mandolins and ziqa, bursting into melody, a cacophony of notes, outrageous harmonies, strange chords and foreign rhythms. The village begins to sing–then the village begins to dance.
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Author: saywheeeee
Rating: All Ages
Word Count: 2898
Author's Summary: Amy and the Doctor visit Aularind. Based off a scene in "crowns of snow." Winner of Challenge #2 at big_jumps.
Characters/Pairings: Eleven, Amy. Mild Eleven/Amy or friendship
Warnings: None
Recc'ed Because: I had forgotten how beautiful and poetic this story was. That means that I got to re-read and rediscover it. The world-building is beautiful, the characters and settings vibrant and alive, and the ending is a bittersweet reminder of how the Doctor lives from one moment to another, rarely looking back.
----------
The music starts at high noon. The whole village is awake by then: the cobblestone streets are filled with flowers and children and tables piled with food. Amy has feasted on blackberries, persimmons, peaches, grapes and pine nuts; the musicians’ wives have plied her with dumplings and fresh perch in parsley and honey and something called sea moss; she has had at least four mugs of spiced milk and cinnamon, several glasses of mulled wine, and one excruciating swallow of “fire tea.” She doesn’t know where the Doctor is–getting into trouble somewhere on the other side of the square, she imagines–but she doesn’t care. She leans back in her seat, absently stroking the hair of the five year old girl who has claimed her as a chair, and thinks she could sleep for the rest of the year.
But then the music starts–and suddenly everyone is moving. The little girl jumps off her lap. All around her, the men are striking up harps and mandolins and ziqa, bursting into melody, a cacophony of notes, outrageous harmonies, strange chords and foreign rhythms. The village begins to sing–then the village begins to dance.
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