Mageverse Interlude: Rasayana
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gracie_musicaMageverse Interlude: Rasayana
Date Written: 5/4/10
Rating: PG-13/T
Word Count: 3,185
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Characters/Pairings: Solomon, Ten, Donna, Jack, mention of the others, Idris/Tosh
Spoilers: Doctor Who up through Season 04, Torchwood up through 02, Mageverse
Warnings: AU like whoa, het (I know, right?)
Author's Notes: Major thanks to my betas![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
totally4ryo and gingerlr, and to cjharknessgirl. This is for the completely charming, utterly understanding teachwriteslash who realized that my RL got a bit crazy. There's another a/n after the fic. I hope you enjoy!
Idris shrugged. 'Yeah, guess so. Sorry, did you say "Torchwood"? What's that then? Is that the new name for the Tourist Board?' Idris pointed at the stylized red dragon symbol on the small sign that read Croeso Cymru. 'Never learned much Welsh at school. Wrong generation.'
The older Englishman just smiled. 'So few people around here seem to be proud of their rich heritage, Mr...?'
'Oh sorry.' Idris offered his hand. 'Hopper. Idris Hopper. I work for the Council. So, probably should know Welsh, but you'd be surprised how easy it is to get by with the odd shwmae, os gwelwch yn dda, diolch, hwyl or nos da!'
-- The Twilight Streets by Gary Russell, pages 180-181
Uncle Solomon patted Idris' shoulder and gave him a reassuring grin. "Now, these two are a bit eccentric, but they're good people."
Idris, eighteen and slightly terrified, nodded. The Smith twins were walking the stables and checking on the horses, heads bent together as they spoke quietly amongst themselves. They were well-versed enough on horses to only need to turn to the stablehand next to them on occasion, but it was obvious that they were deferring to someone with more hands-on experience.
Their slow pace through the barn was excruciating, and by the time they drew up level with Idris and Solomon, the young man was sure he'd sweated straight through his shirt. "Mr. John, Ms. Donna," Solomon greeted, nodding. He put his hand on the small of Idris' back and gave him a little bit of a nudge, making his nephew take a step forward. "This is Idris, my nephew."
"Oh, the one you were telling us about!" John Smith's face split into a grin, and he took one of Idris' hands in both of his. "It's nice to meet you!"
"Your uncle brags on you all the time," Ms. Donna chimed in over her brother's shoulder, brushing her red hair back over her ear.
Idris shot his uncle a sharp look, and Solomon winked back at him.
"So! Mr. Hopper -- "
"Idris, please, sir," the young man managed to stammer.
"Very well, Idris. Solomon tells us that you want to work for us in the stables, hmn?"
"Yessir."
Mr. John nodded. "I'm not going to lie; it's a hard job, one of the most demanding ones here at the House. These horses become your life after a while. Sometimes they're needed at a moment's notice, at all times of the day or night. You must keep them in peak health because of this."
Idris had his mouth open before he realized he was about to speak. "Why would it just be because of that?"
The Head of Torchwood house folded his arms across his chest, regarding Idris. Behind him, Ms. Donna's eyebrows climbed up her forehead. "Why do you say just because of that?"
He could feel the color draining out of his face, and he cast a nervous look to Solomon. His uncle just grinned back serenely, the bastard. "B-because, Mr. John, sir," Idris said, "horses are living things. Why in Pythia's name would you not treat an animal the best you possibly can?"
The Smith twins broke out into identical smiles at his answer. Aha, so they were testing him. "That's good to hear, Idris," Donna praised. "How much do you actually know about horses?"
"A fair bit," Idris said confidently. "Our neighbor would sometimes let us use his older horses for things we needed them for in exchange for help in the barn or around his home."
Donna pointed to the stable next to him. There was a mare inside, looking back at them with big, soulful, brown eyes. "This is Barbara. She's about four months along with her first foal. Do you think you'll be able to help her through to delivery sometime before the new year?"
"No ma'am."
Her eyebrows climbed back up her forehead. "And why's that?"
"It'll be cold when Barbara foals," he said matter-of-factly. "Colder weather makes for a longer pregnancy. If she's at about four months, like you think, she'll probably foal after the Night of the God."
The Smith twins looked at Idris blankly.
"The longest night of the year," Solomon offered helpfully.
The twins made matching soft noises of realization before turning to look at each other. There was a full minute of uncomfortable silence as the two apparently had a little conversation in their heads, complete with head bobs and dubious facial expressions. Finally, they turned to look at Idris in unison. "Right!" they both said, clapping their hands together.
"Here's what we've come up with," Ms. Donna said.
Mr. John pointed at Idris. "We'll strike a deal with you. If Barbara foals after the solstice, the Night of the God, we'll hire you full-time. Granted there are no major catastrophes, of course."
"However, if you're wrong and she foals before your projected date, you're outta here with the turning of the year," Ms. Donna finished.
Another test. Joy of joys.
Idris spread his hands wide. "What have I got to lose?"
-----
As the months progressed, Idris started to find his footing in the hierarchy of the House. Solomon worked him just as hard as the other stablehands -- maybe even harder -- and the other servants treated him with an easy camaraderie. There were arses, of course, but Idris knew those lurked everywhere. Bilis Manger was a right uptight holier-than-thou bastard sometimes, but he didn't come to the stables much so it was easy to keep out of his way.
The students, too, mostly kept to themselves. Some of the more royal prats thought they could order him around at first, but something about the House seemed to change their attitudes. By the end of their first few months, they were friendly, pleasant, and making requests instead of orders.
It was the Mages of Torchwood House that intrigued him. Gwen Cooper was almost unbearably friendly sometimes, while Rhys Williams was one of the most easygoing people he'd ever met. John Hart was a terrible flirt who either didn't take hints or was doggedly over-determined. Owen Harper, when he graced the stables with his presence, was either foul-tempered because someone had done something stupid or was tight-lipped because someone was injured. Martha Jones, in contrast, was sweet with a nice bedside temperament. Jack Harkness reminded him a little too much of Mr. John, all enthusiasm and no deep thought process.
And the last one...
"Is it true that half of all females die in the wild giving birth?"
The softly accented voice came out of nowhere, and Idris dropped the shovel in surprise. Barbara shot him a nasty look at the noise, shuffling over to the other side of her stall.
He whirled around to find young Ms. Sato standing in the doorway, head cocked to one side. "I -- I don't know, ma'am," Idris admitted.
"Well, the mortality rate must be enough to keep producing continuing generations..." she muttered to herself, producing a scrap of paper and a pencil. She licked the tip of her pencil and scribbled on the paper.
After about three minutes, Idris couldn't take it any longer. "... Ms. Sato?"
The woman looked up at him and blinked, as if realizing that there was still someone else in her presence. "Yes, Mr. Hopper?"
"What exactly are you doing?"
"I'm taking notes."
"Why?"
"Because it's relevant to my studies," she said dismissively, bending back over her paper.
This time, Idris blinked at her. "Ms. Sato, I thought you were a Mage."
"I'm an Alchemist," she corrected. "Don't you know what that is?"
"Not really, ma'am."
Ms. Sato looked up at him again, folding the paper up and tucking it into her pocket again. "It's the application of both non-magic science and magical knowledge to break down something we already have and create something new, something better."
"Like turning lead into gold?" He'd heard of alchemists being able to do that, having a golden touch.
She grinned. "That's one use, yes." She crossed the stable to stroke Barbara's head. "We also study life and death. Creation and destruction."
The large horse nosed the slight, dark-haired woman fondly. She laughed as she stumbled back. Idris caught her easily, and she smiled up at him. "So who better to keep an eye on than an expecting mother?"
-----
"Mr. Hopper! I could use your help, please."
Uncle Solomon grinned when Idris looked up at Ms. Sato's voice. "Go on, lad," he encouraged with a wink. "Don't keep the lady waiting."
Idris offered his uncle a glare, who laughed in response, and shooed him away.
Ms. Sato was standing in Barbara's stall, pencil and paper in hand. Even though Idris privately thought it was a bit excessive, he would help keep Barbara steady for the Alchemist's daily inspections.
Today, however, the almond-eyed woman handed Idris the pencil and paper. "Here. You take down the figures today."
Cold panic swept through him. "But this is your project, ma'am."
"Nonsense," the woman said, waving a hand. "You're helping me out, it's practically our project."
"Ms. Sato -- "
But the woman wasn't listening to him, looping a string around Barbara's stomach. "Look at it this way, now I won't have to stop and write them down. She's comfortable enough now around me that you don't have to hold her steady."
"Ms. Sato, please."
"Honestly!" she laughed, her head popping up from behind Barbara's flank. "It's like you don't know how to write!"
Her words were light and teasing, but they cut him. Deeply.
"That's because I can't."
There was a sick pause, the aura of someone realizing just how much they'd screwed up starting to flow in his direction. "... What?"
"I can't write, Ms. Sato. I can't read, either." He felt his face flame up, hating the look she was giving him. She pitied him.
With anyone else, he could have just ignored them, or forgiven their misunderstanding. Providing for his family, sacrificing for his brothers and sisters, it wasn't shameful.
With anyone else, he wouldn't have felt so... insignificant.
If she was going to give him a look like that, she was going to have a reason to give it to him.
"It's not like you'd understand, though," he said sharply. "Being what you are."
Something flashed momentarily across the woman's pretty face. "And what would that be, exactly, Mr. Hopper?" she asked, walking from behind Barbara to come level with the young man.
Her tone was dangerous, but Idris couldn't stop his tongue. "A Mage. Well-born. I bet you've never had to go to bed hungry because it was either you eat or your brother. Never slept on a cold floor because your sisters should be in the bed. Worried about if you'd be forced out of the house by the little ones. Wondered if you were going to eat because there's no work to go around. Worked out how many ways you could beg to get out of stealing for basic needs."
"I had no more choice in being born with a gift than you had in being born without it!" she snapped. "And how dare you assume that I can't empathize with you!"
"Like you can! What am I supposed to assume, with all your stories about Japan and growing up with wealth?"
"And what was I supposed to assume, since your uncle can read and write?" Ms. Sato drew herself up to her full height and glared him down. "And you think I wouldn't love to be back with my brother and my parents? The reason why I'm here in Torchwood House is because I'm not allowed in Japan!"
The ready return argument died on Idris' lips as he stared at the slight woman in front of him. "You're not allowed in an entire country?"
"That's what the term exiled means, Mr. Hopper," she retorted, crossing her arms across her chest.
He glared at her in response. "I'm uneducated, Ms. Sato, not stupid."
"I know that!"
The two of them stared each other down for a few more moments, breathing heavily as they both tried to calm down. Their fight seemed just silly now.
Idris felt a tiny little prickle of awareness on the back of his neck and he slowly turned around. It seemed like every single stablehand working today was standing in the open doorway, having watched the entire exchange with obvious interest. Ms. Sato tisked and made a movement with her hand, and the gate slid shut. Groans of disappointment echoed from the cut-off crowd.
"Obviously, Mr. Hopper, we've both been operating under our own assumptions," the Japanese woman said. "Maybe we could start again with none and figure each other out as we go?" She held her hand out. "I'm Toshiko Sato."
The young man had to fight back a bit of a grin as he took her outstretched hand. "Idris Hopper." Impulsively, he bent and kissed the back of it. "It's a pleasure, Ms. Sato."
The grin came out full force when he saw the way her pale cheeks colored so prettily.
-----
"Why are you teaching me this?" Idris asked.
He and Ms. Sato were sitting in the stable long after sunset, just the two of them and the beasts that were slumbering in their stables. Barbara had been fidgety the last few days, and Idris had the sneaking suspicion she was going to go into labor soon. Ms. Sato, not wanting to miss the big event after being so invested in the process, had turned up with a basket of food and some books to keep him company.
Ms. Sato had started teaching Idris how to read and write not long after their little tiff. He'd initially been frustrated at how stupid he seemed -- it came so easily to her! -- but the dark-haired woman had simply reassured him that the fundamentals were hard for everyone. Once he'd grasped them, things would be easier. Now they were basically reading Alchemy texts, with Ms. Sat explaining it more in depth.
"I think everyone should know how to read and write," the woman replied, pulling an apple out of the basket. "It's very restrictive not being able to." She took a bite of the apple and then offered the fruit to Idris.
"That's not what I meant." He took the apple and bit into it as well, two perfect little ovals of white against the red. "Why are you teaching me?"
Ms. Sato laughed and thumped the cover of the book in Idris' lap. "Haven't you been paying attention?" she teased. "Equal exchange. You're helping me with my project. Why shouldn't I give you something in return?"
"I just..." Idris shrugged, his train of thought wandering off. "Most people would have just written me off."
"No one here in Torchwood House writes off anyone else," Ms. Sato informed him, swiping the apple out of his hand "And I... Well, I like spending time with you," she admitted before taking a healthy bite out of the apple.
Idris looked over at the slight woman sitting next to him, eyebrows raised in surprise. "Ms. Sato -- "
Barbara gave out a long, low groan on the other side of the wall, and the two of them leapt to their feet. The mare was lying down in the fresh hay in her stall, her back flank trembling violently. Idris moved to kneel down next to her, rubbing her swollen belly and making soothing noises.
"... It looks like she's blowing a bubble," Ms. Sato said, standing in the doorway.
"This might be a little rough on your delicate sensibilities, Ms. Sato," Idris teased, laughing when she made a rude gesture at him.
"You couldn't drag me away even if you tied me up to another horse," she snapped, kneeling down next to him. "What should I do?"
"Just keep making soothing noises," Idris instructed. "And keep calm, no matter what. Horses are like people, they sense moods."
He stood to check on the progress of the birth, grinning when he located both front hooves. "She's doing very well," he said.
"She seems tired," the Japanese woman replied, rubbing at Barbara's belly the way Idris had.
"Well, it's a painful and tiring process," he countered. He met her eyes and grinned. "Or so my mother complains whenever one of us act up. 'The pain you caused me, eight hours I was in labor with you,'" he echoed.
She laughed, high and a little nervous.
"Why are you so worried?" Idris asked.
"Fifty percent survival rate."
"In the wild."
"What if we screw up?"
"Toshiko." He gave her a gentle smile. "Trust me. Trust her. Her body knows what to do. And I know what to do if she gets too tired."
Barbara ended up doing most of the work herself, though, and soon enough the two of them were watching Barbara lick and nuzzle her new foal. Idris let out a little whoop of joy when the foal made its way onto wobbly new legs and grabbed Toshiko around the middle, hugging her tight. She laughed as well, her arms encircling his neck as she squeezed him back tightly.
The kiss was totally unexpected. He pulled back the moment he realized what he was doing, meeting Toshiko's wide, astonished eyes with a pair of his own. His entire body was thrumming deliciously while his heart tried to hammer its way out of his chest. "Tosh, I... Have been wanting to do that for months," he admitted.
"Oh thank the God and Goddess, so have I," she swore, tangling her hands in Idris' blonde hair to pull him in for another kiss. This one -- expected, welcomed -- made him feel like there was liquid fire running through his veins.
Maybe there was a bit of truth to all those Alchemical textbooks, he thought as he gathered Toshiko closer to him. One little magical touch and everything was golden and perfect.
-----
"Well, well, this certainly is a bit of difficult, isn't it?"
The Smith twins crossed their arms and tilted their heads in perfect sync, watching Barbara and her foal wander up and down the stable. It was too snowy to let the newborn out into the yard, but Solomon was intent on getting the wobble out of the youngling's legs.
"See, you said after the Night of the God," Mr. John continued.
"You said before, sir," Idris pointed out.
"But she foaled on the Night of the God," Ms. Donna said.
"No agreement was made on one specific date," her twin chimed in.
"Only before or after," the redheaded sing-songed. "Not on."
The two of them shook their head sadly in unison.
Idris looked imploring at Toshiko, who covered her mouth with her hand. Her eyes were dancing with amusement. He discretely shook his fist at her, smiling himself when she clasped her hand tighter over her mouth.
"If I can offer my opinion," Jack Harkness interjected from his place on Ms. Donna's other side. "He did take excellent care of Barbara while she was pregnant."
"This is true," Mr. John agreed.
"And he did observe her delivery," Harkness added.
"Solomon said it was great," Ms. Donna said.
There was a moment's pause before all three of them said, in perfect unison, "And Toshiko will miss him if we fire him."
Tosh's fair skin flushed prettily.
"So it's settled!" Mr. John said, clapping his hands together. "We'll keep him!"
"Seconded!" Ms. Donna exclaimed.
"Janet will need someone to care for her," Harkness said, walking over to Idris.
"Janet?" Toshiko asked.
"I like Janet." He patted Idris' shoulder fondly. "Welcome to the family."
"Just what I need," Idris quipped, even as Toshiko slipped her small hand into his. "More siblings to look after."
-----
A/N 2: A little geeky background explanation on the title. When I started writing DKoM, I went and bought The Complete Idiot's Guide to Alchemy. While reading, I discovered that an Arabic god of alchemy is Idris (I seriously burst out laughing at that). The title, Rasayana, is a Sanskrit word meaning "the path of the elixir". I'm translating 'elixir' here as 'the philosopher's stone', or the end goal that all alchemist strive for. Here, for Idris, it's employment at Torchwood House and the heart of his fair Toshiko.
Thanks for reading!
Date Written: 5/4/10
Rating: PG-13/T
Word Count: 3,185
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Characters/Pairings: Solomon, Ten, Donna, Jack, mention of the others, Idris/Tosh
Spoilers: Doctor Who up through Season 04, Torchwood up through 02, Mageverse
Warnings: AU like whoa, het (I know, right?)
Author's Notes: Major thanks to my betas
totally4ryo and gingerlr, and to cjharknessgirl. This is for the completely charming, utterly understanding teachwriteslash who realized that my RL got a bit crazy. There's another a/n after the fic. I hope you enjoy!
Idris shrugged. 'Yeah, guess so. Sorry, did you say "Torchwood"? What's that then? Is that the new name for the Tourist Board?' Idris pointed at the stylized red dragon symbol on the small sign that read Croeso Cymru. 'Never learned much Welsh at school. Wrong generation.'
The older Englishman just smiled. 'So few people around here seem to be proud of their rich heritage, Mr...?'
'Oh sorry.' Idris offered his hand. 'Hopper. Idris Hopper. I work for the Council. So, probably should know Welsh, but you'd be surprised how easy it is to get by with the odd shwmae, os gwelwch yn dda, diolch, hwyl or nos da!'
-- The Twilight Streets by Gary Russell, pages 180-181
Uncle Solomon patted Idris' shoulder and gave him a reassuring grin. "Now, these two are a bit eccentric, but they're good people."
Idris, eighteen and slightly terrified, nodded. The Smith twins were walking the stables and checking on the horses, heads bent together as they spoke quietly amongst themselves. They were well-versed enough on horses to only need to turn to the stablehand next to them on occasion, but it was obvious that they were deferring to someone with more hands-on experience.
Their slow pace through the barn was excruciating, and by the time they drew up level with Idris and Solomon, the young man was sure he'd sweated straight through his shirt. "Mr. John, Ms. Donna," Solomon greeted, nodding. He put his hand on the small of Idris' back and gave him a little bit of a nudge, making his nephew take a step forward. "This is Idris, my nephew."
"Oh, the one you were telling us about!" John Smith's face split into a grin, and he took one of Idris' hands in both of his. "It's nice to meet you!"
"Your uncle brags on you all the time," Ms. Donna chimed in over her brother's shoulder, brushing her red hair back over her ear.
Idris shot his uncle a sharp look, and Solomon winked back at him.
"So! Mr. Hopper -- "
"Idris, please, sir," the young man managed to stammer.
"Very well, Idris. Solomon tells us that you want to work for us in the stables, hmn?"
"Yessir."
Mr. John nodded. "I'm not going to lie; it's a hard job, one of the most demanding ones here at the House. These horses become your life after a while. Sometimes they're needed at a moment's notice, at all times of the day or night. You must keep them in peak health because of this."
Idris had his mouth open before he realized he was about to speak. "Why would it just be because of that?"
The Head of Torchwood house folded his arms across his chest, regarding Idris. Behind him, Ms. Donna's eyebrows climbed up her forehead. "Why do you say just because of that?"
He could feel the color draining out of his face, and he cast a nervous look to Solomon. His uncle just grinned back serenely, the bastard. "B-because, Mr. John, sir," Idris said, "horses are living things. Why in Pythia's name would you not treat an animal the best you possibly can?"
The Smith twins broke out into identical smiles at his answer. Aha, so they were testing him. "That's good to hear, Idris," Donna praised. "How much do you actually know about horses?"
"A fair bit," Idris said confidently. "Our neighbor would sometimes let us use his older horses for things we needed them for in exchange for help in the barn or around his home."
Donna pointed to the stable next to him. There was a mare inside, looking back at them with big, soulful, brown eyes. "This is Barbara. She's about four months along with her first foal. Do you think you'll be able to help her through to delivery sometime before the new year?"
"No ma'am."
Her eyebrows climbed back up her forehead. "And why's that?"
"It'll be cold when Barbara foals," he said matter-of-factly. "Colder weather makes for a longer pregnancy. If she's at about four months, like you think, she'll probably foal after the Night of the God."
The Smith twins looked at Idris blankly.
"The longest night of the year," Solomon offered helpfully.
The twins made matching soft noises of realization before turning to look at each other. There was a full minute of uncomfortable silence as the two apparently had a little conversation in their heads, complete with head bobs and dubious facial expressions. Finally, they turned to look at Idris in unison. "Right!" they both said, clapping their hands together.
"Here's what we've come up with," Ms. Donna said.
Mr. John pointed at Idris. "We'll strike a deal with you. If Barbara foals after the solstice, the Night of the God, we'll hire you full-time. Granted there are no major catastrophes, of course."
"However, if you're wrong and she foals before your projected date, you're outta here with the turning of the year," Ms. Donna finished.
Another test. Joy of joys.
Idris spread his hands wide. "What have I got to lose?"
-----
As the months progressed, Idris started to find his footing in the hierarchy of the House. Solomon worked him just as hard as the other stablehands -- maybe even harder -- and the other servants treated him with an easy camaraderie. There were arses, of course, but Idris knew those lurked everywhere. Bilis Manger was a right uptight holier-than-thou bastard sometimes, but he didn't come to the stables much so it was easy to keep out of his way.
The students, too, mostly kept to themselves. Some of the more royal prats thought they could order him around at first, but something about the House seemed to change their attitudes. By the end of their first few months, they were friendly, pleasant, and making requests instead of orders.
It was the Mages of Torchwood House that intrigued him. Gwen Cooper was almost unbearably friendly sometimes, while Rhys Williams was one of the most easygoing people he'd ever met. John Hart was a terrible flirt who either didn't take hints or was doggedly over-determined. Owen Harper, when he graced the stables with his presence, was either foul-tempered because someone had done something stupid or was tight-lipped because someone was injured. Martha Jones, in contrast, was sweet with a nice bedside temperament. Jack Harkness reminded him a little too much of Mr. John, all enthusiasm and no deep thought process.
And the last one...
"Is it true that half of all females die in the wild giving birth?"
The softly accented voice came out of nowhere, and Idris dropped the shovel in surprise. Barbara shot him a nasty look at the noise, shuffling over to the other side of her stall.
He whirled around to find young Ms. Sato standing in the doorway, head cocked to one side. "I -- I don't know, ma'am," Idris admitted.
"Well, the mortality rate must be enough to keep producing continuing generations..." she muttered to herself, producing a scrap of paper and a pencil. She licked the tip of her pencil and scribbled on the paper.
After about three minutes, Idris couldn't take it any longer. "... Ms. Sato?"
The woman looked up at him and blinked, as if realizing that there was still someone else in her presence. "Yes, Mr. Hopper?"
"What exactly are you doing?"
"I'm taking notes."
"Why?"
"Because it's relevant to my studies," she said dismissively, bending back over her paper.
This time, Idris blinked at her. "Ms. Sato, I thought you were a Mage."
"I'm an Alchemist," she corrected. "Don't you know what that is?"
"Not really, ma'am."
Ms. Sato looked up at him again, folding the paper up and tucking it into her pocket again. "It's the application of both non-magic science and magical knowledge to break down something we already have and create something new, something better."
"Like turning lead into gold?" He'd heard of alchemists being able to do that, having a golden touch.
She grinned. "That's one use, yes." She crossed the stable to stroke Barbara's head. "We also study life and death. Creation and destruction."
The large horse nosed the slight, dark-haired woman fondly. She laughed as she stumbled back. Idris caught her easily, and she smiled up at him. "So who better to keep an eye on than an expecting mother?"
-----
"Mr. Hopper! I could use your help, please."
Uncle Solomon grinned when Idris looked up at Ms. Sato's voice. "Go on, lad," he encouraged with a wink. "Don't keep the lady waiting."
Idris offered his uncle a glare, who laughed in response, and shooed him away.
Ms. Sato was standing in Barbara's stall, pencil and paper in hand. Even though Idris privately thought it was a bit excessive, he would help keep Barbara steady for the Alchemist's daily inspections.
Today, however, the almond-eyed woman handed Idris the pencil and paper. "Here. You take down the figures today."
Cold panic swept through him. "But this is your project, ma'am."
"Nonsense," the woman said, waving a hand. "You're helping me out, it's practically our project."
"Ms. Sato -- "
But the woman wasn't listening to him, looping a string around Barbara's stomach. "Look at it this way, now I won't have to stop and write them down. She's comfortable enough now around me that you don't have to hold her steady."
"Ms. Sato, please."
"Honestly!" she laughed, her head popping up from behind Barbara's flank. "It's like you don't know how to write!"
Her words were light and teasing, but they cut him. Deeply.
"That's because I can't."
There was a sick pause, the aura of someone realizing just how much they'd screwed up starting to flow in his direction. "... What?"
"I can't write, Ms. Sato. I can't read, either." He felt his face flame up, hating the look she was giving him. She pitied him.
With anyone else, he could have just ignored them, or forgiven their misunderstanding. Providing for his family, sacrificing for his brothers and sisters, it wasn't shameful.
With anyone else, he wouldn't have felt so... insignificant.
If she was going to give him a look like that, she was going to have a reason to give it to him.
"It's not like you'd understand, though," he said sharply. "Being what you are."
Something flashed momentarily across the woman's pretty face. "And what would that be, exactly, Mr. Hopper?" she asked, walking from behind Barbara to come level with the young man.
Her tone was dangerous, but Idris couldn't stop his tongue. "A Mage. Well-born. I bet you've never had to go to bed hungry because it was either you eat or your brother. Never slept on a cold floor because your sisters should be in the bed. Worried about if you'd be forced out of the house by the little ones. Wondered if you were going to eat because there's no work to go around. Worked out how many ways you could beg to get out of stealing for basic needs."
"I had no more choice in being born with a gift than you had in being born without it!" she snapped. "And how dare you assume that I can't empathize with you!"
"Like you can! What am I supposed to assume, with all your stories about Japan and growing up with wealth?"
"And what was I supposed to assume, since your uncle can read and write?" Ms. Sato drew herself up to her full height and glared him down. "And you think I wouldn't love to be back with my brother and my parents? The reason why I'm here in Torchwood House is because I'm not allowed in Japan!"
The ready return argument died on Idris' lips as he stared at the slight woman in front of him. "You're not allowed in an entire country?"
"That's what the term exiled means, Mr. Hopper," she retorted, crossing her arms across her chest.
He glared at her in response. "I'm uneducated, Ms. Sato, not stupid."
"I know that!"
The two of them stared each other down for a few more moments, breathing heavily as they both tried to calm down. Their fight seemed just silly now.
Idris felt a tiny little prickle of awareness on the back of his neck and he slowly turned around. It seemed like every single stablehand working today was standing in the open doorway, having watched the entire exchange with obvious interest. Ms. Sato tisked and made a movement with her hand, and the gate slid shut. Groans of disappointment echoed from the cut-off crowd.
"Obviously, Mr. Hopper, we've both been operating under our own assumptions," the Japanese woman said. "Maybe we could start again with none and figure each other out as we go?" She held her hand out. "I'm Toshiko Sato."
The young man had to fight back a bit of a grin as he took her outstretched hand. "Idris Hopper." Impulsively, he bent and kissed the back of it. "It's a pleasure, Ms. Sato."
The grin came out full force when he saw the way her pale cheeks colored so prettily.
-----
"Why are you teaching me this?" Idris asked.
He and Ms. Sato were sitting in the stable long after sunset, just the two of them and the beasts that were slumbering in their stables. Barbara had been fidgety the last few days, and Idris had the sneaking suspicion she was going to go into labor soon. Ms. Sato, not wanting to miss the big event after being so invested in the process, had turned up with a basket of food and some books to keep him company.
Ms. Sato had started teaching Idris how to read and write not long after their little tiff. He'd initially been frustrated at how stupid he seemed -- it came so easily to her! -- but the dark-haired woman had simply reassured him that the fundamentals were hard for everyone. Once he'd grasped them, things would be easier. Now they were basically reading Alchemy texts, with Ms. Sat explaining it more in depth.
"I think everyone should know how to read and write," the woman replied, pulling an apple out of the basket. "It's very restrictive not being able to." She took a bite of the apple and then offered the fruit to Idris.
"That's not what I meant." He took the apple and bit into it as well, two perfect little ovals of white against the red. "Why are you teaching me?"
Ms. Sato laughed and thumped the cover of the book in Idris' lap. "Haven't you been paying attention?" she teased. "Equal exchange. You're helping me with my project. Why shouldn't I give you something in return?"
"I just..." Idris shrugged, his train of thought wandering off. "Most people would have just written me off."
"No one here in Torchwood House writes off anyone else," Ms. Sato informed him, swiping the apple out of his hand "And I... Well, I like spending time with you," she admitted before taking a healthy bite out of the apple.
Idris looked over at the slight woman sitting next to him, eyebrows raised in surprise. "Ms. Sato -- "
Barbara gave out a long, low groan on the other side of the wall, and the two of them leapt to their feet. The mare was lying down in the fresh hay in her stall, her back flank trembling violently. Idris moved to kneel down next to her, rubbing her swollen belly and making soothing noises.
"... It looks like she's blowing a bubble," Ms. Sato said, standing in the doorway.
"This might be a little rough on your delicate sensibilities, Ms. Sato," Idris teased, laughing when she made a rude gesture at him.
"You couldn't drag me away even if you tied me up to another horse," she snapped, kneeling down next to him. "What should I do?"
"Just keep making soothing noises," Idris instructed. "And keep calm, no matter what. Horses are like people, they sense moods."
He stood to check on the progress of the birth, grinning when he located both front hooves. "She's doing very well," he said.
"She seems tired," the Japanese woman replied, rubbing at Barbara's belly the way Idris had.
"Well, it's a painful and tiring process," he countered. He met her eyes and grinned. "Or so my mother complains whenever one of us act up. 'The pain you caused me, eight hours I was in labor with you,'" he echoed.
She laughed, high and a little nervous.
"Why are you so worried?" Idris asked.
"Fifty percent survival rate."
"In the wild."
"What if we screw up?"
"Toshiko." He gave her a gentle smile. "Trust me. Trust her. Her body knows what to do. And I know what to do if she gets too tired."
Barbara ended up doing most of the work herself, though, and soon enough the two of them were watching Barbara lick and nuzzle her new foal. Idris let out a little whoop of joy when the foal made its way onto wobbly new legs and grabbed Toshiko around the middle, hugging her tight. She laughed as well, her arms encircling his neck as she squeezed him back tightly.
The kiss was totally unexpected. He pulled back the moment he realized what he was doing, meeting Toshiko's wide, astonished eyes with a pair of his own. His entire body was thrumming deliciously while his heart tried to hammer its way out of his chest. "Tosh, I... Have been wanting to do that for months," he admitted.
"Oh thank the God and Goddess, so have I," she swore, tangling her hands in Idris' blonde hair to pull him in for another kiss. This one -- expected, welcomed -- made him feel like there was liquid fire running through his veins.
Maybe there was a bit of truth to all those Alchemical textbooks, he thought as he gathered Toshiko closer to him. One little magical touch and everything was golden and perfect.
-----
"Well, well, this certainly is a bit of difficult, isn't it?"
The Smith twins crossed their arms and tilted their heads in perfect sync, watching Barbara and her foal wander up and down the stable. It was too snowy to let the newborn out into the yard, but Solomon was intent on getting the wobble out of the youngling's legs.
"See, you said after the Night of the God," Mr. John continued.
"You said before, sir," Idris pointed out.
"But she foaled on the Night of the God," Ms. Donna said.
"No agreement was made on one specific date," her twin chimed in.
"Only before or after," the redheaded sing-songed. "Not on."
The two of them shook their head sadly in unison.
Idris looked imploring at Toshiko, who covered her mouth with her hand. Her eyes were dancing with amusement. He discretely shook his fist at her, smiling himself when she clasped her hand tighter over her mouth.
"If I can offer my opinion," Jack Harkness interjected from his place on Ms. Donna's other side. "He did take excellent care of Barbara while she was pregnant."
"This is true," Mr. John agreed.
"And he did observe her delivery," Harkness added.
"Solomon said it was great," Ms. Donna said.
There was a moment's pause before all three of them said, in perfect unison, "And Toshiko will miss him if we fire him."
Tosh's fair skin flushed prettily.
"So it's settled!" Mr. John said, clapping his hands together. "We'll keep him!"
"Seconded!" Ms. Donna exclaimed.
"Janet will need someone to care for her," Harkness said, walking over to Idris.
"Janet?" Toshiko asked.
"I like Janet." He patted Idris' shoulder fondly. "Welcome to the family."
"Just what I need," Idris quipped, even as Toshiko slipped her small hand into his. "More siblings to look after."
-----
A/N 2: A little geeky background explanation on the title. When I started writing DKoM, I went and bought The Complete Idiot's Guide to Alchemy. While reading, I discovered that an Arabic god of alchemy is Idris (I seriously burst out laughing at that). The title, Rasayana, is a Sanskrit word meaning "the path of the elixir". I'm translating 'elixir' here as 'the philosopher's stone', or the end goal that all alchemist strive for. Here, for Idris, it's employment at Torchwood House and the heart of his fair Toshiko.
Thanks for reading!
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Date: 2010-05-08 03:22 am (UTC)And even better, YAY IT GOT THESE MUSES GOING AGAIN!