The TARDIS materialized in the woods near Maggie’s trailer. Vairë remembered the address. Magnolia had moved there during Spring Break the year she died. It was to be her and Josh’s first home together when they started their married life. It wasn’t large – a single-wide set back in the wooded area of a sprawling trailer park. It wasn’t fancy or new. But it had been Maggie’s and the woman had gone all out getting it set up.
Vairë walked through the woods, the sound of decaying leaves and gravel echoing her footsteps. The humid heat of a Southern summer pressed against her. Where it not for her body’s enhanced ability to regulate its temperature, she would have been dripping sweat. Instead, she could close her eyes, feel the slight breeze blowing off the nearby river, and savor the scent of wisteria, tomatoes, and pine trees that permeated the air.
She walked up into the back yard behind the trailer. She could see the car that Maggie would die in sitting in the shade, its hood open while some routine maintenance was being performed. Glancing at the sky, Vairë could tell it was close to supper time. She could see through the sliding glass doors that opened onto the back patio – a wooden structure the smelled of fresh lumber, newly built – and watch Maggie as she danced in the kitchen, cooking. The rumbling whine of an air conditioner kept Vairë from hearing the music her friend was listening to but she could guess what it would be. Walking up the wooden stairs and onto the deck, Vairë lifted a hand to knock at the back door.
Maggie spotted her before she could knock. The woman smiled broadly and ran to pull the door open with a loud bang. Sure enough, strains from Guns ‘N’ Roses filled the air. “Well, sakes alive, Rose-a-lee! I didn’t know you were over this way at all! Come on in here and hug my neck, girl! I ain’t seen you in a month of Sundays!” Maggie shouted gleefully.
“It’s been ages since anyone’s called me that,” Vairë grinned sadly as she stepped into the trailer and threw her arms around Maggie’s neck.
“What are you talking about, Rose-a-lily? Sure’n Mickey and Aunt Jackie call you by your name.”
“It’s…complicated.”
“Well, you come on in here and put your feet up, Rose-a-mund. I’ve got supper just about on the table and you can tell me just why people ain’t callin’ you by your right name. Though…wait a minute,” Maggie said, one hand on her hip and the other under her chin. She tapped the side of her nose like she did when she was deep in thought. “You’re older.”
“How old do you think I am?”Vairë asked calmly.
“Oh, ‘round about twenty from the face and body. Like the look, though. Sophisticated and sexy. Must have a string of men dancin’ attendance on you whenever you go out. Probably have your dance card filled up for the next decade. But your eyes, Rose. Your eyes tell me you’re way older than I’d guess. Way, way older.”
“Shoulda known you’d see it right off, Maggie,” Vairë sighed. “I’ve been around for…a while.”
“How long’s ‘a while?’”
“You may not believe it.”
“Speak the truth like God intended and I’ll believe it.”
“Well, I lost track shortly after my four hundredth birthday,” Vairë grinned sadly. “Figured it didn’t really matter that much anymore.”
“Four hundred years?” Maggie said flatly. “Huh. Lookin’ good for it, though. Lookin’ damned good.”
“You believe me?”
“You’ve never lied to me when I asked you for the truth right-out before. Why would you start now?” Maggie shrugged. “Might be hard for me to imagine but I figure there’s a good explanation behind it. One that you’ll give me once you get some food in that belly of yours. You’re too scrawny, Rose-a-lee. Ya got nice curves and all but men like a bit o’ meat on a woman. Now, what have people been callin’ you if they ain’t calling you Rose Tyler?”
“I had to change my name. Everyone thought I was dead. So, I started going by Vairë Carter.”
“Vairë like from The Silmarillion? Mandos’s wife? The weaver?”
“Yeah.”
“I like it. Told Josh I wanted to name our firstborn daughter Nienna Rose after you and after the Valier who taught Gandalf mercy and compassion. He said we’re not using anything too weird though so I’m going to argue for Rose and let him pick the other name.” Maggie shrugged again and returned to the kitchen. She turned the volume on her CD player down and began dishing out the food. She brought the plates to the table with a quick admonishment to Rose to go wash her face and hands while Maggie put ice in the glasses and poured out a generous helping of iced tea, the Southern house wine.
“Sweet or unsweet?” Vairë asked, pointing to her glass.
“Sweet as sin, of course, Rose-a-lee. You don’t mind me callin’ you that? I can call you Vairë if you want.”
“No,” Vairë whispered, tears in her eyes. “To you, I’ll always be Rose Tyler.”
“Right you are. Now, eat up. That’s good deer meat there. Josh bagged an eight-point back right after Thanksgivin’. Cooks up well, don’t it? Biscuits might be a mite tough, though. Sop ‘em in some gravy if you like.”
“Don’t you want me to tell you how I lived four hundred years?”
“Soon as you get supper in your stomach, yeah. Right now, I want you to relax and enjoy my cookin’. You look like you ain’t been enjoyin’ much lately, Rose-a-lynn. Once you’ve got that food in you where it can do you some good, I’ll listen to whatever you have to tell me. Then you can get you a good hot shower and we’ll keep each other up all night tellin’ tales like we did when we were younger. You oughta remember now, you’re in the South and we take hostin’ guests and hospitality real serious,” Maggie said with a smile.
Vairë coughed and forced herself to swallow the food in her mouth. Then she buried her face in her hands and began crying, her tears a mixture of joy, sorrow, and longing. It had been ages since someone had taken command of her and tried to make her feel welcome without her having done anything more spectacular than just show up unannounced on their back porch. Maggie moved over and put her arms around her friend, holding her against her chest as she stroked her hair and rocked her back and forth, letting her cry because, from what Magnolia could tell, it’d been far too long since someone held Rose and comforted her.
~*~*~*~
Once supper had been eaten and Maggie had cleared up the kitchen, she sent Rose to go wash her face off with cold water and began rummaging through her medicine cabinet. “You must need aspirin somethin’ bad after that,” Maggie called out.
“I can’t take aspirin. I’m deathly allergic to it, now.”
“Ibuprofen? Tylenol?”
“Better not to risk it,” Vairë sighed as she walked back into the kitchen.
“I see. Well, how about some old-fashioned medicine? My granny used to fix me up a blend of mint, yarrow, chamomile, and thorn-apple when I got one of my monthly migraines. Said it’s sovereign for headaches or any woman’s complaint.”
“Could give it a try.”
“I’ll spike it with some whisky. That’s the real trick,” Maggie grinned.
“You’ve got whisky? You’re only nineteen.”
“I’m nineteen and getting married next month. ‘Sides, it’s homebrewed.”
“Homebrewed whisky?”
“How the hell else do you think my great grandpappy put ten kids through the Sisters’ school?” Maggie laughed as she mixed up the drink. “Now, come on out on the porch and tell me the rest of the story while we watch the stars light up.”
Vairë followed Maggie’s orders. Maggie had always been able to take charge of her. The two girls might have, at one time, been the same age but Maggie was the leader between them. She could mother her friends without being condescending at all. It was just her way. Once they were sitting out on the back patio with the cool night breeze setting in, Vairë gathered her thoughts. Maggie sat back and listened to the long story about meeting the Doctor and traveling through space and time. She interrupted only to get clarification on a few points. By the time Vairë was done with her story, the stars were out in full force.
“Well, that explains your eyes, Rose-a-lee,” Maggie said softly as she topped off her drink – tea, this time – and poured a glass for Rose as well. “You’ve really been out there. This is your first time back on Earth in a while?” Vairë nodded. “And this Doctor, how old is he?”
“Nine hundred and something.”
“A Time Lord. A warrior. Man, that’s somethin’ else. And your mother slapped him for getting you home late?” she laughed. “God bless Aunt Jackie. She never changes. But him changing his face on you. That must have been scary.”
“It was, yeah. But I like his new face. I loved his old one, too.”
“Well, under the skin, he’s the same man, isn’t he? I mean, it’s like when Old Bill got caught in that house fire a few years back. He’s had to have a lot of skin grafts and surgeries and all. He looks a lot different now than he used to. But, underneath it all, he’s still Old Bill. Still the same sweet man what that looks out for all us youngsters at the Shell station up the road.”
“I never thought of it like that,” Vairë sighed.
“Well, I reckon you don’t know too many volunteer firefighters who got caught with a buildin’ collapsin’ on ‘em. Anyhow, you don’t say why he ran off to old France and that bitch Madame du Pompadour.”
“Bitch?”
“Yeah. That whore was responsible for the French and Indian War. She was a greedy, grasping, covetous, conniving slut. Hell, even the Cajuns don’t like her much and they’re Frank-o-files. She couldn’t stomach the thought of the Brits and the Colonials eclipsing the glory of France so she pressed for war and dragged the whole damned world into it. Why would anyone want to run off to her?”
“He…he was in love with her.”
“Like hell. A clever fellow like the Doctor? In love with her?” Magnolia’s mouth twisted in distaste as if she’d bitten into a particularly sour lemon.
“Well, she saw into his mind. I’ve told you about telepathy and all. She saw into his memories and he fell in love with her over it.”
“Bullshit,” the Southerner spat.
“He did. That’s why he left me and Mickey on that spaceship.”
“No, seriously. Bullshit. She might have seen into his memories. She might even have intrigued him. But if he spent five minutes with her, there’s no way he could have loved her. That woman loved power above all else. I’ve read my history books, Rose-a-mund. No, there was another reason why he ran off. I’m not accusin’ you of lyin’ or nothing. Just sayin’ that there’s more to the story than you’re tellin’, is all. Anyhow, that ship you’ve mentioned. The TARDIS…is it here?”
“Yeah. It’s parked down the hill over yonder a bit,” Vairë said, slipping into Southernisms like she always had when she visited Maggie. “You wanna see it?”
“A ship that travels in time and space and is bigger on the inside and named herself after me? No, Rose, I don’t want to see that more than I’ve wanted to see anything in my entire life,” Maggie drawled sarcastically. “Lemme go get a flash light and my .22. The snakes’ll be out.”
“You know I don’t like guns. The TARDIS doesn’t either.”
“Well, soon as you figure out a way to politely ask a rattler not to bite the ever-living crap out of us and to pretty please with tea and crumpets fuck off and die, I’ll quit carrying my pistol when I go in the woods. Until then, I’m carrying it and you’ll just have to deal with it. My daddy taught me that the only good snake is a dead snake and I intend to see only good snakes if’n you catch my drift.”
Vairë grinned and shook her head. Maggie would never change. She came back out onto the porch with a Maglite, her pistol, and a can of bug spray. After she’d doused herself and her guest, she gestured for Vairë to lead the way to the ship. Maggie grinned broadly when the TARDIS appeared. “A real live space ship,” she whispered. “God Almighty, I’ve always wanted to see one of these for real.” Vairë opened the door and Maggie walked up the ramp to the console. “Hello, TARDIS,” she said, patting the console fondly. “I’m not telepathic or nothin’ like Rose is so if you’re talkin’ to me like that, I’m not gonna understand. Flash some lights at me or somethin’ and I figger we’ll get on right good.”
The console blinked and the shades in the Time Rotors flashed in what could only be amusement and welcome. Maggie glanced over at Rose and Vairë grinned at her, nodding in approval. “She likes you. You’re one of the only people who accepts that she’s alive and intelligent.”
“Well, you told me she was and you don’t lie, Rose-a-lee,” Maggie shrugged. She turned back to the console, “Look here,” she said to the ship, “I know you don’t like guns or nothin’ but I’m gonna ask you not to mess with my pistol. It’s spring and there’re snakes out there that’ll bite us and put us in the hospital. I’ll put my pistol down on that seat and leave it be but I’ll need it when we go back up to the house. I’m sorry for bringin’ it inside you uninvited but I only know one way to deal with rattlers, cotton mouths, copper heads, and the other bajillion poisonous snakes we got livin’ in these parts and that’s to shoot ‘em afore they bite you.” The console flashed again and, once again, Vairë shook her head in amazement.
“She says it’s all right. That she understands. Just don’t shoot inside her or anything.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t. That’d be rude. Thanks for having me in here, TARDIS. Rose says you call yourself Maggie after me but if you don’t mind, I’ll call you TARDIS because it’d just be weird and confusin’ for me to call you by my own name.” The lights flashed again. “Yeah, I don’t mind you usin’ my name. Hell, I’m right honored. Now, I’m not ignorin’ you or nothin’ but I want to visit with Rose-a-lily a bit. Oh, do you need anything? Like gasoline or plutonium or somethin’? I can get you gas easy but if you need nuke-le-ur stuff, well, Old Bill has a friend whose cousin’s next-door-neighbor’s sister-in-law has a nephew who works down at Grand Gulf. The nephew owes Old Bill’s friend a favor and might be able to sneak somethin’ out in a pinch. If it’s for a good cause and all.”
Vairë threw her head back and roared with laughter. Maggie grinned at her, a little uncertain. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to play a proper hostess to an intelligent space ship but she was damned well going to try. “She doesn’t need anything like that,” Vairë explained. “When she gets low on fuel, there’s a rift in Cardiff we can visit and top her off there.”
“Right. Well, TARDIS, if you need anything I can provide, just tell Rose here and I’ll get it for you lickity-split. Don’t want to be rude to the first intelligent space ship I get to meet. We take being hospitable to our guests serious here. And you’re more than a guest. Rose is practically my sister and if you’re’n her sister, that makes you family. And family is always welcome in these parts. Now, if you’ll excuse us a bit?” The TARDIS flashed her lights again and Maggie nodded before turning back to Vairë. “Do you have any photos of this Doctor of yours? I’d like to see his face. Get a measure of this man you talk about. See if he’s worthy of your affections.”
“My affections?”
“Rose-a-lee, it’s clear as the nose on your face that you’re stupid in love with him. Just like it’s clear as my freckles that I’m stupid in love with Josh. I want to see this Doctor of yours, even if it’s just in photos, and be certain he’s worthy of you. Because if he’s not, if he’s like that sonuvabitch Jimmy Stone, I’ll get this here TARDIS to take me back to France and give him what-for.” The TARDIS flashed her lights in agreement. “And it looks like she’ll let me,” Maggie concluded with a broad grin.
Vairë raised her hands in surrender. “I think I have a few of him. Let me go get them.” She headed deeper into the ship while Maggie sat on the jump set.
“So, does he love her?” she asked the TARDIS. The TARDIS’s lights flashed uncertainly. “Well, I’ve been around a bit myself. If he loves her, it’ll show in the photos if there’s any of the two of them together.”
A few minutes later, Vairë returned with the albums she’d taken from her and Jackie’s flat after Canary Wharf. She hadn’t bothered to look at them before now. “Let’s go in the library. The couch there is more comfortable.”
“All right,” Maggie nodded as she followed the other woman deeper into the ship. “Place is huge.”
“Yeah. You get used to it, though.”
“I’ll bet.” They ducked into the library and Maggie’s eyes went wide. There were millions of books in the room. “Y’all really like to read a bit, don’t you?”
“Yeah, a bit.Takes a while to get temporal physics under your belt. The math is tricky.”
“Sounds like,” Maggie said blankly as she settled onto the sofa. Vairë sat next to her and handed her one of the albums. The Southerner began turning through it. “That him?” she asked, pointing to the Doctor in his ninth regeneration. “He looks…solid. Love a man who can pull off leather like that.” Her breath caught when she came across a few photos of the Doctor staring down at Rose. “Who took that one?” she asked.
“My mum. That was right after a space ship crashed into Big Ben. Turned out the whole thing had been a ruse. Some Slitheen were trying to get access to nuclear weapons so they could blow the Earth apart and sell the rubble to the highest bidders. We got caught in 10 Downing Street and had to blow the place up with a missile to kill the Slitheen. Of course, we were in there. Rode it out in a cupboard.”
“Like an earthquake or a tornado, then,” Maggie nodded. “Glad to see you paid attention to some of the things I taught you.”
“‘Leaves of three, leave ‘em be.’”
“Yep. Now, who is this fellow?” she asked, pointing to the tenth regeneration of the Doctor. Vairë sighed. She didn’t remember that photo being taken at all. She and the Doctor were sitting on the couch at her mother’s, watching the telly. It was just after Boxing Day. They’d been watching some special on the Egyptian pyramids, him laughing about rumors of alien assistance and her pointing out that he hadn’t so much as lifted a hammer. They’d been sitting close in companionable silence when the events of the past few days caught up to her and she’d fallen asleep. She’d woken later in her own bed. But in this photo, her head was resting against the Doctor’s chest and he had an arm draped over her, his hand on her waist. His cheek was pressed against the crown of her head and he looked as if he were half-asleep himself.
“That’s the Doctor after he regenerated.”
“Ah. What made him regenerate, again?”
“Me. I looked into the heart of the TARDIS so that I could get back to him. He’d sent me home because he thought he was about to be killed by Daleks. But, I got back to him and turned the Daleks into dust using the power of the Time Vortex. He had to take it out of me – not sure how he managed that,” Vairë sighed, “and it forced him to regenerate.”
“Looks like he’s a bit of a dandy,” Maggie said, pointing to the photograph.
“Never thought of him like that,” Vairë laughed softly. “He dresses like one but he’s not a dandy like you mean.”
“Naw. I know. Can tell from his eyes in this photo that he’s got a dark side to him. Hidden but still there. The eyes, they always tell you the truth of a person. And he’s a strong one. Not mean, just strong. Been through a lot in his life, I bet.”
“Yeah. The Time War,” Vairë sighed. “Having to kill all of his people to put an end to it.”
“He never talked to you about that, did he?”
“No. The TARDIS did. She was there too. She’s shown me her memories.”
“Well, then. Look, Rose-a-lee, it’s getting late and I’m getting sleepy. Let’s head back to the house and sack out for the night. We can talk more in the morning.”
~*~*~*~
Vairë sent her silent thanks to the TARDIS as she sat down in front of another breakfast with Maggie. Her friend would be gone forever in less than forty-eight hours. Her lightness, laughter, and quick wit would be erased by one drunken driver who should have been in prison. But the past few days had been a wonder to Vairë. Hearing her old name from her friend’s lips was a balm to her spirit. Having listened to Maggie wax eloquent on of Time Lord reproduction – the Looms – had made Vairë wish she could watch her friend give that lecture to the Doctor. She could have made a fortune selling tickets to that particular explosion – not counting how much popcorn she could have sold at the venue. It would, quite literally, have been the biggest explosion since the Big Bang.
“It occurs to me, Rose-a-lee,” Maggie said as she sat down and started eating, “that there’s a reason why you’re here now.”
“I came to see you. The TARDIS thought you could help me with my…depression, I guess is the best word to describe it.”
“You mean those voices you hear hollerin’ at you in your own head, never letting you get a bit o’ peace from ‘em?”
“How do you know…”
“T’wasn’t hard to figger out after listening to you thrash about in your sleep. Went and asked the TARDIS about it and she confirmed it. Me and that ship might not speak the same language, but we understand each other when it comes to you. But no, that’s not what I’m getting at. You’re here and now. Now, even if I’m married with a couple of young’uns in a few years when you meet the Doctor for the first time, you know I’d have come with you and dragged Josh and the kids along whatever he said. So, why wasn’t I with you?”
Vairë sighed. This had been such a good visit up to this point. Trust Maggie to work it out. “You do realize that this is why you’ve got a full-ride scholarship to Ol’ Miss and you’ve got the law school already itchin’ to take you?”
“I’m smart, I know. People from off hear me talk and deduct a hundred IQ points, but I’m no slouch, like you said. So, why here? Why now? Somethin’s about to happen to me, isn’t it? Somethin’ I’m not gonna walk away from.”
“I can’t tell you and I can’t stop it from happening. It’s a fixed point. I’ve told you about fixed points and…”
“Yeah, about you nearly causing the end of the universe because you saved your dad,” Maggie nodded. “Will it hurt?”
“I don’t know.”
“Could you keep an eye on Josh and my family for me, after, then? Make sure they’re gettin’ on all right? And make sure that Josh finds him another wife. Men are helpless in a lot of ways without someone to look after ‘em,” Maggie said softly, wiping the tears trickling down her cheeks. “If the Lord is gonna call me home, then I’ll go without a fight. Just…keep an eye on my family for me. I reckon whatever happens’ll be hard on them and I won’t be here to comfort them.”
“I will, that,” Vairë said hoarsely. “Oh, Maggie, you don’t know how much I wish I could just whisk you away with me in the TARDIS. Letting this happen…it’s going to be the hardest thing I’ll have done in ages. Almost as hard as just holding Dad’s hand while he died.”
“You’ll do it, though. I won’t have you sacrificing the universe for me,” Maggie sniffed. “I’d get right mad at you after I hugged you for it. I suppose…could I leave them letters? To be opened after. I won’t say anything. Just some words from me to hold them through the years until we’ll meet again? Or would that cause problems?”
“It’s like when you asked me not to tell you anything about the future so you couldn’t cause problems,” Vairë said softly. “I told you I could tell whatever you wanted to know – within reason, of course – and it’d be no different than me telling you that the Mississippi River flows south. You can’t alter its course with that knowledge alone. So, write your letters. I’ll check them with the TARDIS to be sure that nothing untoward will happen – she can analyze time-lines better than me – and I’ll see that they get to your family.”
“Thanks,” Maggie said gratefully as she finished wiping her face and the two girls continued breakfast. Vairë had thought it would be hard for her to swallow the food – to taste anything but ashes – once she realized that Maggie had figured out that her time was nigh. Instead, the Londoner found that Maggie had taken a great weight off her own shoulders. She ate and stared at her friend in amazement, wondering how someone who was only nineteen could be so wise. Her only concern was for those she’d be leaving behind, not for herself.
“Now that that unpleasantness is out of the way,” Maggie said with forced brightness that made Vairë laugh, “I find I have a few things I want to say to you and I want you to clean the dirt out of your ears and hear them.” Vairë chuckled and pretended to dig her fingers in her ears, cleaning them out. “Right, those voices of yours – they’re real, aren’t they? They’re real things that people have said to you and, for whatever reason, you can’t let go of them. Kinda like how you were after Jimmy Stone damned near kilt ya.”
“Yeah. A bit more intense than that, though, since I’ve got the telepathy bit now.”
“Well, you remember what I told you when I came over there after Aunt Jackie and Mickey told me about what happened to you?”
“Yeah.”
“It still applies. You are one of the most wonderful, intelligent, and beautiful people in all of God’s creation. And I’m not just talking about the Earth – I mean the cosmos, Rose Marion. And, you’ve gone and done so many great things, Rose-a-lee. You’ve fought a good fight. You’ve helped people reclaim their freedom. You’ve stood up for what was right when others ran away. And you’ll keep doing it until you die. I told you back then not to let that sonuvabitch Jimmy Stone – who I firmly intend to haunt and torment – put you down and make you feel like you’re less. Don’t you let yourself do that either,” she threw her arms around Rose and hugged the woman tightly. “Don’t you dare ever even let yourself think you’re anything other than wonderful.”
“But…”
“But nothing, Rose. Here,” she said, taking down her pair of Confederate officer swords from the mantle. Those swords had been handed down in her family for generations. “Take these with you. They fought once for slavery. Use them to fight for the right things. For the good things. And take this, too,” she added, handing over the .44 she’d been given on her eighteenth birthday, “because you’d have to be a pure-blind ignorant fool to carry a sword to a gun-fight.”
“You know I don’t like guns…”
“That’s why you’re the best one to carry one. I don’t like ‘em neither. Not really. I mean, yeah, I’ve been shootin’ since I was five. But I don’t like ‘em. I wish we lived in a world where violence was inconceivable. But, we don’t. And from what you tell me, there’s plenty of bad guys out there,” she gestured towards the sky. “So, take these with you and use them in a good cause. And since you dislike guns, you’ll use that one more wisely than most. You won’t be quick to draw it out. You won’t flash it around. And you damned well better not try shooting it with only one hand on it. Not unless you want those teeth knocked out by the recoil.”
“As you wish, Maggie,” Vairë said, taking the pistol and the holster. “But only because it’s you that’s askin’ this of me. Now,” she sighed, taking a deep breath, “I can’t take you with me through space and time…not the way I’d like to. But, I can take you on one trip.”
“Might be temptin’ fate to do that, Rose-a-lee.”
“I’ll risk it. If there was one person you could go visit, one place you could go see, who or where would it be?”
“Do you really mean it? I won’t let you take me on but one trip. One trip and we come right back here.”
“I mean it.”
“Then that’s a simple question to answer, Rose-a-lily. Bournemouth, England in 1970.”
“I should have guessed.”
“Let me go get my leather-bound editions,” Maggie grinned as she darted into her bedroom, returning with her most prized possessions – leather-bound prints of The Lord of the Ring, The Silmarillion, and The Hobbit. “I always wanted to meet Professor Tolkien and tell him what his stories meant to me. And now, thanks to you, the most wonderful woman in the entirety of space and time, I’ll get my wish.”
~*~*~*~
Maggie was happy but subdued when Vairë returned her home. She’d gotten to meet her favorite author of all time and he’d gladly signed her books. Now the two girls were sitting on the back porch, watching the stars come out, each lost in their own thoughts. Maggie had sat down that afternoon after their return and written out the letters to her family and to Josh. She’d written one for Rose as well – two, actually. One for the younger Rose and one for the Rose who had just taken her on the trip of a life-time. Still, she wanted to do something more substantial for her friend. She knew that these attacks were taking a lot out of the woman. She knew, in a way, that they could kill Rose. That her brain and body could only take so much more of the stress from the attacks before, even if she was “enhanced,” her body would fail and she would die. When the other woman was snoring lightly – Maggie had snuck a few sleeping pills into her drink – Maggie made her way down to the TARDIS. She didn’t need a key to get in once she explained her mission to the ship.
Her task done, Maggie snuck back up to the house, roused Rose enough to get her into bed instead of leaving her to sleep on the porch, and then went to sleep herself. She wasn’t surprised when, the next afternoon, Rose left. In a way, it brought home to the Southern girl that this was it. These were her last few hours on Earth. She took her time squaring things away in the trailer. She called and talked to her mother and father, making sure to tell them she loved them. She left a message for Josh on his answering machine saying she just wanted to let him know she loved him. Then she settled down to watch the sunset, wondering just what was going to happen.
Her phone rang. Her friend Big Dave had his truck break down on him and he needed her to come pick him up and take him on home. Sighing, Maggie checked the time. She was tempted to tell him “no” but he’d bailed her out of trouble before and she owed him. Promising that she’d be there shortly, she hopped in her car and headed out.
She was just a quarter-mile away from her destination when another driver came barreling out of a side road, T-boning her car and sending it spinning crazily until it slid off the road and wrapped around an oak tree. She looked over, dazed, and could have sworn she saw Rose standing there with a sorrowful look on her face. Maggie blinked and groaned. She hurt but the pain was beginning to fade.
Vairë watched the impact impassively. She couldn’t do a damned thing to change it. Just like her father’s death, Maggie’s death was a fixed point in time and space. But she could do this. She could stay with her friend, as she had stayed with her father, while she died. Vairë pulled out her super-phone and called 911, affecting a Southern accent. However, she knew that Maggie was gone already. She walked over to the mangled car and forced herself to swallow the gorge rising in her throat when she saw the extent of Maggie’s injuries. The driver’s side window was down – Maggie rarely bothered with the AC after sundown. Vairë bent down.
She was stunned speechless when Maggie turned her face and opened her eyes to look at her. “‘Member,” she whispered hoarsely, “yer wond’ful. Never f’rgit.” Then her blue eyes closed and Vairë could tell that the part of Maggie that was Maggie was gone.
“I won’t forget, Maggie. We’ll meet again, you and me, in the Undying Lands, there on the silver shores of Valinor,” Vairë whispered as she pressed her fingers to her lips and then placed them on her friend’s cooling forehead. An oath to the dead was sacred, she knew, especially one to Maggie. Untying the scarf from her neck, Vairë walked over and tied it to a branch on the tree that Maggie’s car had slammed in to. It would be the first – but not the last – offering left here to mark the spot where a remarkable woman’s life had ended far too soon and where a light had begun to blaze through the darkness, sparing woman another from an untimely death.
~*~*~*~
The TARDIS relaxed when her sister walked back in. She could sense the sorrow and grief in her sister’s heart but it was not of the despairing kind. Instead, the TARDIS could see that in such a short time, Magnolia had gone most of the way towards healing the Londoner. The storms would come again, in time. Vairë would always be walking the knife’s edge towards them unless the Doctor could dispel the last of her doubts and fears. But Magnolia Gloria had been a godsend. Vairë placed her hands on the console and began to sing, taking them into the Vortex. The moment she left the flow of time, she could feel her memories shifting slightly, taking in Maggie’s minor alterations to the time-lines. She could recall a letter she’d received after Maggie’s death and a package…a package so precious to her she would never have left it behind once she started traveling. She darted back to her room – the room that the Doctor had given her. She was not surprised to see the leather-bound and author-signed editions of Tolkien’s books sitting on her nightstand. Opening them up, she glanced over at her dresser and saw an unopened letter with Maggie’s clear cursive on the envelope. Carefully opening it, she began to read.
“Rose-a-lee,
If my calculations are correct, when this TARDIS hits 88 miles-per-hour, you’re gonna see some serious shit.
Sorry. Couldn’t resist the Back to the Future reference. Anyway, if I’m right, you’ll see this letter for the first time when you visit your “old room” in the TARDIS. I’ll probably be gone by then. I know that you’ll look after my family like you promised. So, this letter isn’t about them. It’s about you. It’s about what’s happened to you and what I think you ought to do about it. I know some of it might be very difficult for you to read and believe but you’ve always told me the truth and I won’t do any less for you.
First things first, move back in to your old room. It’s where it is for a reason. I know you’ve gotten more comfortable in the library. Hell, if I could sleep in a room with that many books, I’d never leave either. But the TARDIS and the Doctor placed your room where it is for a reason. I wish I could tell you that reason but I can’t say it’s so for 100% myself. But, I reckon you’ll figure it out in time. And, if you absolutely, positively, CAN’T move back to your old room, have the TARDIS fix up something a little nicer for you in the library. Eventually, that pallet is going to murder your back.
Next, you’re WONDERFUL. I don’t ever want you to forget that. You are wonderful. You are a loyal, kind, compassionate, caring, loving and beautiful woman. And, from what I’ve seen of you these last few days, you are smart, clever, knowledgeable, and even a little wise. That French Madame is nothing compared to you. Do you think she’d ever leave the comfort of a cozy palace to travel the stars? The first time she had to change her own stockings, she’d be ready to leave. The first time she encountered something truly different, she’d break. And the first time she had to run, she’d cry to go back home. You, on the other hand, have faced down horrors. You’ve conquered tyrants. You’ve fought, suffered, and killed for a good cause. You’re so much better than she is or ever could be. You are WONDERFUL. Don’t you dare forget that, Rose-a-lee! Don’t you DARE!
Lastly, you need to get back to the Doctor. Those voices you hear…I think he’s the only one who can get rid of them entirely. I know it will be hard going back to him. You’ve changed a lot, Rose-a-lee, and it will be hard. At first, he’ll see you as you were because he’s not been there to see you grow up into the incredible person you are right now. Still, if he’s worth his salt, he’ll see that you’ve only become MORE beautiful and wonderful. And yeah, he’s a man, Rose. Men are stupid and wondrously strange creatures. He’ll have done all kinds of stupid things before admitting the truth about how he feels to himself. Remember how I told you about Josh making out with that stupid cheerleader right before he asked me to marry him? Well, I think the Doctor’s doing the same thing. Men are men – regardless of species. I have a pretty strong feeling that the Doctor cares about you a lot. But that he’s scared of it. Because caring for you would mean making a commitment and if there’s one thing that men will run from, it’s commitment. It’s just their nature. That’s why us women have to be wiser and more patient. He’s going to have to fight himself over it, fight himself to realize that you’re good for him – no, that you’re PERFECT for him – so when he finally gets over his Time Lord Masculinity, go easy on him a bit. Once he’s over it though, and has made himself clear to you, smack him upside the back of his head and tell him that Magnolia is warning him not to ever even think about breaking your heart again. Tell him I WILL come back from Beyond if he ever hurts you again and he WON’T like getting his ass beaten by me. So, go back to him. Get him out of France and away from that French Madame, and then let him sort himself out. And take time to sort your own feelings out. I do think you love him. But give yourself time to think on it a bit. Could just be that you hero-worship him. Could just be that he’s different from any man you’ve ever known. Once you know your own mind, you’ll know better what to do.
At any rate, me and the TARDIS have had a lot of talks. If you need reminders now and again, she knows what to do. I love this ship of yours. I’m honored that she calls herself after me. And since she’s doing that and since I know you were planning to name your daughter after me and that will get confusing, how about you name your first-born daughter “River” after the Mississippi River I grew up on? If you do that, she can come visit the South and Ol’ Man River will recognize her as one of his own. Means she won’t get bitten by the skeeters so much.
I love you, Rose-a-lee. You’ve been the sister I always wanted. You’re fantastic and wonderful. I hope that you find happiness one day and raise up a whole bunch of children. Remember me. Tell your kids about their crazy gun-shooting Aunt Magnolia and tell them that I’m watching them from the Undying Lands. And you and I will meet there one day. On those white sands. We’ll meet again and look to the Deathless West and join in the Chorus of the Children of Men.
Your loving sister,
Magnolia “Maggie” Bard.”
Vairë sighed as she folded the letter and carefully tucked it back in the envelope. She put it in one of the inner pockets of her jacket. She would keep it with her always and, when the storms struck, she would remember it to help shield herself from them.
“I’ll go back for him,” she whispered, “but I doubt he cares about me as much as you think, Magnolia.” Standing up, she left her old room and headed for the console room. The TARDIS sent waves of gentle comfort to her sister. Vairë would still grieve for her friend but her grief would be the grief of healing, not of bitter sorrow. “So, think you could stomach a trip to France in, oh, say 1759? About six months after Sir Doctor of TARDIS mounted that horse and rode through the time window like a knight out of bloody legend?” Vairë asked.
I can stomach it, sister. But if he finds out what I did to save you…
“If he does anything to hurt you over that, I’ll stop him. He’ll have to kill me first.”
We need to stop at the Rift in Cardiff before we go to France. My fuel supplies are getting rather low.
“Right. We’ll do that. I’ll give Martha a call. Maybe she’d like to tag along. Could make a trip of it. Let’s stop off a week after that memorial thing she told us about, shall we? I’ll give her a call the day after it to tell her when and where to meet us.”