fannishliss (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fannishliss) wrote2012-02-24 05:13 pm
fannishliss) wrote2012-02-24 05:13 pm
Entry tags:
- crack,
- eccleston rules,
- fic,
- nine,
- rose,
- the doctor,
- who
who fic: "the Black Swan" (Nine/Rose, PG)
title: The Black Swan, or, the Doctor Dances -- to Swan Lake!
author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fannishliss
genre: romance, comment fic [cracky premise!]
rating: PG
pairing: Nine/Rose
Summary: in which the Doctor dances to let off a little stress, and Rose enjoys the view!
Note: in the movie Elizabeth, Mr. Eccleston shows that he can make even the most ridiculous Elizabethan breeches look good.fogsblue and bloose09 began to speculate about how Chris with his swagger could make anything look good which culminated in the following prompt from bloose : "So Rose walks into a room she has never been in before and sees Nine leaping about in a black tutu...." and thus this ficlet was born. Both fogsblue and bloose09 mentioned paying good money... but STILL no profit is being made from this fic!! :P
Thanks to Mr. Eccleston for taking such good care of his fine physique and for sharing it with us appreciative members of the viewing public at every opportunity. And to Tchaikovsky, because he ROCKS.
===
Twilight in the Tardis could be a magical time. The Doctor loved to point out his superior Time Lord physiology, as Rose well knew, and he needed very little sleep. The console room was almost always brightly lit to standards of Gallifreyan daylight.
The rest of the Tardis, though, could be a little more atmospheric. The Tardis, a thoughtful creature, often dimmed the lights around her sleeping travellers. Rose loved night on the Tardis... padding through quietly humming corridors for a latenight toddy of some sort -- and usually, the toddy was waiting steaming in its cupboard when Rose reached the galley.
Sometimes there came an in-between hour. Rose and the Doctor had had a real scare, imprisoned, separated -- harrowing. He offered to take Rose home to be with her mum -- but the last thing Rose wanted was to be apart from him.
Upon finally returning to the Tardis, Rose had gone straight to her room, showered, and fallen asleep. She slept heavily all night, lulled by the familiar vibrations of the comforting ship all around her... and maybe the Tardis sent her some extra lulling, who could say?
She didn't see the Doctor at breakfast, so she went to the console room. She found him under the console, humming and tinkering. He seemed happy and relieved to be home as well, so she went off, roaming the ship, visiting all her favorite places on board.
She stopped back at the galley to fix a bit of lunch and decided to see just how far the ship would let her walk. The familiar rooms she and the Doctor frequented the most -- library, pool, bedrooms, galley -- the Tardis kept close together. But there were thousands of rooms, layer after layer of them, wonderful vast rooms wide open and full of amazing things. Rose knew the Tardis would never let her find anything dangerous, and she knew when she got tired the ship would lead her home, so she just kept walking.
She walked down endless corridors of coral, and some that branched off into carved white wood; some that were very spartan and mechanical; some that were dusty, or even grimy; and some that were just like halls in an old manor house, and all the doors were locked.
She found bedrooms, laboratories, storage rooms, gymnasiums. Her favorite were the rooms more like outdoors, and so the Tardis led her from place to place -- orchards, gardens, parks; and there were even balconies off of hallways that looked out over amazing vistas that seemed so real, as if they were right there, real enough to touch.
At last it was getting past teatime and the Tardis was fading her lights into twilight. Rose was ready to head back when she heard the faintest strains of music. The day was all about satisfying her curiosity so she went looking.
She found the door. It was a massive double wooden door, beautifully carved, with brass fittings -- and it was slightly ajar.
The strains of music were louder now -- orchestral music -- violins? some type of flute? Rose didn't know that much about orchestral music beyond what she remembered dimly from music class when she was a kid. The music was louder now -- horns? Emboldened by the cover of sound, she peeped through the door.
It was a vast dim ballroom, dark except where powerful focused spotlights shone on the floor -- where someone was dancing.
It was the Doctor. He was dancing.
Really -- dancing -- as the music soared and vibrated the air of the room around him. Rose was transfixed, watching him in awe as he leapt and spun.
His strong legs carried him across the floor -- his arms gracefully arching away from his body -- his head proud and high on his corded neck.
And what he was wearing -- was practically nothing -- no shirt, no shoes -- just a layered skirt of black tulle, falling from his waist to just below his knees -- that when he leapt, floated around him like a cloud.
He was gorgeous.
The Doctor was in a tutu, and Rose had never seen anything more mouth-watering and luscious in her life.
As the music built to its crescendo, the Doctor's dance was so powerful and athletic that Rose almost expected his leaps to break into flight. He circled the floor, jumping and arching his back as though to defy the laws of gravity. Rose thought the Tardis might have bent the rules a little when she saw the heights he attained.
Finally the music dwindled into silence and the Doctor was left in the center of the room, kneeling, his forehead to the floor, his arms thrown wide.
As silence fell, Rose could hear his gasping breath. The muscles of his back and sides rippled as the breaths tore through him.
Cautiously she entered the room. On silent feet she stole forward.
She had almost reached him when he looked up. His brilliant blue eyes glittered in the dim light.
"Rose," he breathed. She tried to keep her eyes modestly on his face as he sat up. The tulle skirt billowed around him on the floor, but the muscular lines of his naked body were all she could see.
"Doctor," she answered, "that was beautiful."
"Told you I could dance," he said, still breathing hard.
"I never thought you meant ballet!" she laughed.
"Nothing like it, really, for working through heavy emotion," he admitted.
Rose was astonished. She couldn't believe he was being so open.
"I nearly lost you," he said, and reached for her hand. Kneeling down on the floor beside him, she gave it. His hand was uncharacteristically warm-- from the dance, she supposed -- but the feeling of comfort and rightness that flowed into her from that hand was always the same.
"I knew you'd save me," she said. "I never doubted it."
"I did," he said. "But losing you just wasn't an option."
"I never want to be apart from you like that again!" she cried out.
"I know," he said softly.
She dared to look at him. He was staring at her with that intense gaze as though he could see deep inside her.
She wanted to say something to him to break the heavy tension that had grown up between them. She wanted to put into words everything she felt, but words wouldn't do. She leaned toward him, and miraculously, he leaned toward her as well, and their lips touched, lightly.
As their breath mingled, the Doctor whispered, "Stay, Rose -- stay with me always!"
Rose had dreamed of the moment when he would implore her so -- but she'd always feared the day would never come. Now that it was really happening, she felt dizzy with joy and gratitude for the amazing man who had finally taken the chance on letting her in.
"Forever," Rose swore with all her heart, and kissed him like her life depended on it.
And later, if she found out what it was like to tear at tulle with her teeth, she never chose to elaborate on the subject.
author:
fannishlissgenre: romance, comment fic [cracky premise!]
rating: PG
pairing: Nine/Rose
Summary: in which the Doctor dances to let off a little stress, and Rose enjoys the view!
Note: in the movie Elizabeth, Mr. Eccleston shows that he can make even the most ridiculous Elizabethan breeches look good.
fogsblue and bloose09 began to speculate about how Chris with his swagger could make anything look good which culminated in the following prompt from bloose : "So Rose walks into a room she has never been in before and sees Nine leaping about in a black tutu...." and thus this ficlet was born. Both fogsblue and bloose09 mentioned paying good money... but STILL no profit is being made from this fic!! :PThanks to Mr. Eccleston for taking such good care of his fine physique and for sharing it with us appreciative members of the viewing public at every opportunity. And to Tchaikovsky, because he ROCKS.
===
Twilight in the Tardis could be a magical time. The Doctor loved to point out his superior Time Lord physiology, as Rose well knew, and he needed very little sleep. The console room was almost always brightly lit to standards of Gallifreyan daylight.
The rest of the Tardis, though, could be a little more atmospheric. The Tardis, a thoughtful creature, often dimmed the lights around her sleeping travellers. Rose loved night on the Tardis... padding through quietly humming corridors for a latenight toddy of some sort -- and usually, the toddy was waiting steaming in its cupboard when Rose reached the galley.
Sometimes there came an in-between hour. Rose and the Doctor had had a real scare, imprisoned, separated -- harrowing. He offered to take Rose home to be with her mum -- but the last thing Rose wanted was to be apart from him.
Upon finally returning to the Tardis, Rose had gone straight to her room, showered, and fallen asleep. She slept heavily all night, lulled by the familiar vibrations of the comforting ship all around her... and maybe the Tardis sent her some extra lulling, who could say?
She didn't see the Doctor at breakfast, so she went to the console room. She found him under the console, humming and tinkering. He seemed happy and relieved to be home as well, so she went off, roaming the ship, visiting all her favorite places on board.
She stopped back at the galley to fix a bit of lunch and decided to see just how far the ship would let her walk. The familiar rooms she and the Doctor frequented the most -- library, pool, bedrooms, galley -- the Tardis kept close together. But there were thousands of rooms, layer after layer of them, wonderful vast rooms wide open and full of amazing things. Rose knew the Tardis would never let her find anything dangerous, and she knew when she got tired the ship would lead her home, so she just kept walking.
She walked down endless corridors of coral, and some that branched off into carved white wood; some that were very spartan and mechanical; some that were dusty, or even grimy; and some that were just like halls in an old manor house, and all the doors were locked.
She found bedrooms, laboratories, storage rooms, gymnasiums. Her favorite were the rooms more like outdoors, and so the Tardis led her from place to place -- orchards, gardens, parks; and there were even balconies off of hallways that looked out over amazing vistas that seemed so real, as if they were right there, real enough to touch.
At last it was getting past teatime and the Tardis was fading her lights into twilight. Rose was ready to head back when she heard the faintest strains of music. The day was all about satisfying her curiosity so she went looking.
She found the door. It was a massive double wooden door, beautifully carved, with brass fittings -- and it was slightly ajar.
The strains of music were louder now -- orchestral music -- violins? some type of flute? Rose didn't know that much about orchestral music beyond what she remembered dimly from music class when she was a kid. The music was louder now -- horns? Emboldened by the cover of sound, she peeped through the door.
It was a vast dim ballroom, dark except where powerful focused spotlights shone on the floor -- where someone was dancing.
It was the Doctor. He was dancing.
Really -- dancing -- as the music soared and vibrated the air of the room around him. Rose was transfixed, watching him in awe as he leapt and spun.
His strong legs carried him across the floor -- his arms gracefully arching away from his body -- his head proud and high on his corded neck.
And what he was wearing -- was practically nothing -- no shirt, no shoes -- just a layered skirt of black tulle, falling from his waist to just below his knees -- that when he leapt, floated around him like a cloud.
He was gorgeous.
The Doctor was in a tutu, and Rose had never seen anything more mouth-watering and luscious in her life.
As the music built to its crescendo, the Doctor's dance was so powerful and athletic that Rose almost expected his leaps to break into flight. He circled the floor, jumping and arching his back as though to defy the laws of gravity. Rose thought the Tardis might have bent the rules a little when she saw the heights he attained.
Finally the music dwindled into silence and the Doctor was left in the center of the room, kneeling, his forehead to the floor, his arms thrown wide.
As silence fell, Rose could hear his gasping breath. The muscles of his back and sides rippled as the breaths tore through him.
Cautiously she entered the room. On silent feet she stole forward.
She had almost reached him when he looked up. His brilliant blue eyes glittered in the dim light.
"Rose," he breathed. She tried to keep her eyes modestly on his face as he sat up. The tulle skirt billowed around him on the floor, but the muscular lines of his naked body were all she could see.
"Doctor," she answered, "that was beautiful."
"Told you I could dance," he said, still breathing hard.
"I never thought you meant ballet!" she laughed.
"Nothing like it, really, for working through heavy emotion," he admitted.
Rose was astonished. She couldn't believe he was being so open.
"I nearly lost you," he said, and reached for her hand. Kneeling down on the floor beside him, she gave it. His hand was uncharacteristically warm-- from the dance, she supposed -- but the feeling of comfort and rightness that flowed into her from that hand was always the same.
"I knew you'd save me," she said. "I never doubted it."
"I did," he said. "But losing you just wasn't an option."
"I never want to be apart from you like that again!" she cried out.
"I know," he said softly.
She dared to look at him. He was staring at her with that intense gaze as though he could see deep inside her.
She wanted to say something to him to break the heavy tension that had grown up between them. She wanted to put into words everything she felt, but words wouldn't do. She leaned toward him, and miraculously, he leaned toward her as well, and their lips touched, lightly.
As their breath mingled, the Doctor whispered, "Stay, Rose -- stay with me always!"
Rose had dreamed of the moment when he would implore her so -- but she'd always feared the day would never come. Now that it was really happening, she felt dizzy with joy and gratitude for the amazing man who had finally taken the chance on letting her in.
"Forever," Rose swore with all her heart, and kissed him like her life depended on it.
And later, if she found out what it was like to tear at tulle with her teeth, she never chose to elaborate on the subject.
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:D
Thanks for your sweet words!
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I loved your description of Rose wandering the TARDIS exploring her depths and then moving towards the room containing the Doctor dancing as the strains of Tchaikovsky build to a crescendo. Then we are met with your unforgettable vision of CE is black tulle with his muscles on display for all to see. *mind wanders* Oh where was I? Oh yeah, rippling muscles.
I loved this description so much:As the music built to its crescendo, the Doctor's dance was so powerful and athletic that Rose almost expected his leaps to break into flight. He circled the floor, jumping and arching his back as though to defy the laws of gravity. Rose thought the Tardis might have bent the rules a little when she saw the heights he attained.
Finally the music dwindled into silence and the Doctor was left in the center of the room, kneeling, his forehead to the floor, his arms thrown wide.
Then you bring us down slowly with the beautiful, tender conversation between Rose and the Doctor about 'forever'. *sighs*
But this was coup de théâtre:
And later, if she found out what it was like to tear at tulle with her teeth, she never chose to elaborate on the subject.
Brava!
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In all honesty, I prefer the Doctor rippling and beautiful in a skirt of heavier, flowing material. Mnnn, yummy hot and very masculine! Ballet Trockadero wore tulle, and I have this vision of Eleven, Jack, Ten, and the Master doing les cygnettes. Please PLEASE wash my brain out with drano! Or crack that one for us next? :b
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I'm sorry, I just can't get Jack etal out of my mind, and I thought I'd tease you into some insanely brilliant reason for the dance. Even I am not demented enough to come up with that offhand.
I really like the reason you give for the Doctor dancing. It makes complete sense to me. And yes, men in just the skirts are damned hot. (Ballet dancers are damned hot) I was looking on youtube for videos, but I can't remember the names of the dances.
Since you like dance, play around Youtube. Start with ABT, American Ballet Theatre.
I love "At Last" by River North, modern danced by dancers with classical technique http://rivernorthchicago.com/repertoire.asp
Here is Rudolph Nureyev http://www.google.com/search?client=safari&rls=en&q=youtube+nureyev&ie=UTF-8&oe=UTF-8 You MUST find his Swine Lake with Miss Piggy.
Since you love dance and we are both serious in the points of our stories often, I'm putting out one suggestion for the story, with respect and admiration. Watch a video where the men are wearing the long skirts and then consider changing the Doctor's to something different than tulle. The story won't have any crack (except in the eyes of some readers), and will be a lot more serious all the way through. Or, if you prefer, send me a message and we can talk. I've been trying to find videos or photos of man in skirt for you, so far don't remember the name of the dance :(
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And later, if she found out what it was like to tear at tulle with her teeth, she never chose to elaborate on the subject.
You're a legend!
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