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locker_monsterTitle: The Boy Who Waited (10/49)
Rating: PG
Characters: Rory, with appearances from Barbara
Timeline: set between "The Pandorica Opens" and "The Big Bang"
Summary: London, 1996. Barbara Wright prepares the Pandorica for exhibit at the National Museum. As the work unfolds, she recounts the lengthy history of the stone box and its loyal protector, the Lone Centurion.
Disclaimer: Doctor Who belongs to the BBC. Everything else is me taking liberties with history.
A/N: A huge thank you to my beta![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
punch_kicker15. This story would still be sitting on my hard drive if it weren't for you.
It was safe to say that technology was not Barbara’s friend. It was probably because she was a historian. She could see the value in keeping the old ways alive. So, to her, the computer on her desk was a necessary evil. The museum was relying on computers more and more and she would have to, too, if she wanted to continue doing her job.
She sat and watched apathetically as a woman from the museum’s technical department fiddled around with her computer. The thing had stopped working all of a sudden, right while she had been in the middle of typing up some notes. If computers were supposed to be the way of the future, then they needed some more work first.
The woman glanced over at her and smiled apologetically. It wasn’t just a smile to placate Barbara. It was a genuine smile of reassurance. With her curly ginger hair and bubbly personality, it seemed like she could put anyone at ease. “We’re trying to set up a new network. Looks like it was too much for some of these older computers.”
Barbara didn’t bother to point out that she only got the machine six months ago. It also didn’t help that the woman helping her was likely half her age. “Network?” She could still remember using slide rulers.
“It would link all of the computers together and give the museum staff a central place to store all of the documents for easy access.” It sounded like the woman could go on and on about computers all day.
“Uh, excuse me, Miss…” Barbara trailed off, realizing she hadn’t even asked what the woman’s name was.
“Melanie Bush. Mel,” the woman insisted.
“Mel. Is this going to take long?”
“That depends on your computer. Some of these things have a mind of their own.” Mel smiled again, likely referencing a personal joke of hers. She looked around at the papers covering Barbara’s desk. “Oh, you’re looking after the Anomalies.”
Barbara was impressed. There were numerous papers on her desk and not all of them were obviously titled. Mel seemed like one of the lucky few endowed with a photographic memory. “Yes, I am.”
“I loved reading about the Pandorica as a child. There’s a mystery about it that just pulls you in. I’ll have this fixed as soon as possible.”
There was nothing else that needed to be said. Mel dived back into her work, becoming completely absorbed in her task. Barbara quietly left her office to allow the woman to work in peace. With nothing to do for the moment, she headed into the museum to check on the progress of the exhibits. When she last left it, Dorothy had been supervising the installation of the dinosaurs on ice.
The dinosaurs were indeed on their fake blocks of polystyrene ice when she entered the exhibit hall. The penguins in the Nile were also set up. She passed by the stone idols, at home in their jungle setting, and entered the main exhibit room.
Not surprisingly, she found she wasn’t alone. A familiar figure dressed in security guard black stared up at the newly hung poster outlining the Pandorica’s timeline.
As Barbara got closer, she noticed that the security guard’s attention was fixed on a certain date. She was only a step away when he said, “Marco Polo.”
For a brief moment she thought he was playing the children’s game, but then she saw the date and description at which he stared. 1275 A.D.; Sold by Marco Polo. “That’s wrong.” Barbara couldn’t help saying so.
The security guard looked over at her. “Oh?”
“Marco was only seventeen when he left Venice for China in 1271. I doubt he was the one who convinced the Vatican to sell the Pandorica. That should really read ‘Sold by the Polos.’”
“Why haven’t you changed it then?” asked the security guard.
“It’s a misconception that’s been perpetuated throughout history and it’s so deeply engrained into our culture that it’s become the truth. To change it now would be like telling people today that the Earth isn’t the centre of the universe.”
The security guard didn’t say anything. Barbara cleared her throat to cover up the awkward silence. She hadn’t meant to sound so overly dramatic. “But that’s just my opinion,” she added.
“I like your opinion.” The young man spoke plainly. He wasn’t trying to butter her up; he was just offering the truth. He looked back up at the poster, missing Barbara’s look of quiet admiration. “So why did the Polos need the Pandorica to go to China?”
“Call it a late addition to the expedition.”
* * *
Acre, 1271 A.D.
It seemed in bad taste to punch a Cardinal, but that didn’t mean Rory wasn’t tempted.
“Who said you could move the Pandorica?” he demanded in Italian. He could only watch as a group of Knights Hospitaller hauled the stone box out of the room. Rory had no qualms about attacking a knight, even if that knight worked for the Church, but he couldn’t do much if he was being guarded by three more knights, all with their swords drawn.
Cardinal Salvatore mopped his sweaty brow with a lacy handkerchief. “We have orders.”
“From whom?”
“The Pope.”
The last Rory had heard, the College of Cardinals were still trying to decide on who should be the new Pope. It sounded like they had finally reached a decision after three years of debate. And, of course, the man’s first act in his new role had to involve the Pandorica. It wasn’t as if Rory was causing trouble. He had been a fine house guest since the Knights Templar moved their headquarters from Jerusalem to Acre.
The one hope Rory had was that the Pandorica was being moved to Italy. Maybe the new Pope wanted the mysterious object stored in the official papal residence at Viterbo. Italy was a lot closer to England than Acre was.
“What is the Pandorica’s destination?” asked Rory, trying to sound civil.
“Cathay,” replied Salvatore, though he spoke slowly as if afraid he was giving away vital information.
It took Rory a second to figure out where that was and when he did, a feeling of dread descended up on him. He had seen plenty of maps while with the Knights Templar. Cathay was what they called China in this time period. They were moving the Pandorica to China.
He shook his head. “No.” He had remained in the Holy Land because he had the protection of the knights and the Church. In China, he didn’t know what would happen to him or the Pandorica. Rory pushed past his guards, not caring if he was run through by one of their swords. He felt one blade graze his armour, but his guards were too shocked to do much beyond gawk and they let him pass.
Further down the corridor, the other Knights Hospitaller dragged the Pandorica along using ropes, leaving behind scratches on the floor. All of their attention was on their task and they didn’t see Rory.
He quietly drew his sword. These knights had become his friends, just like de Payens and his men. They were just following orders, but he couldn’t let them take away the only thing of importance in his life. He would avoid killing them, but there would be casualties. Good thing these knights were doctors, too.
Just as Rory raised his sword, Cardinal Salvatore cried out. “Wait!”
The Knights Hospitaller looked up and back, finally noticing Rory. He hesitated.
And good thing, too. “The Pope is here in Acre,” said Salvatore, running down the corridor towards Rory. He fought to speak and catch his breath at the same time. “We can avoid bloodshed.”
For a second, Rory’s sword remained raised above his head. The knight closest to him, a young man named Richard, swallowed nervously. He had just joined the order last month, fresh from a little town in the British Midlands. The young man looked no older than Rory himself. He doubted he had seen any battles yet.
Carefully, Rory lowered his sword. The other knights breathed a sigh of relief, but Richard regarded him with a wary gaze, almost in fear. Rory averted his gaze and concentrated on returning his sword to his sheath.
Salvatore huffed over. He was well into his sixties and the warmer climate of Acre never seemed to agree with him. With his red face, he looked ready to collapse. “The Pope… Pandorica…” He waved his handkerchief vaguely in the direction of the courtyard.
The knights took that as their cue. Tugging on the ropes, and with liberal amounts of grunting, they slowly got the Pandorica moving again. Rory thought of joining them and giving them a boost of strength, but then he recalled the look he had seen on Richard’s face. Instead, he hung back with Salvatore, watching to make sure that the Cardinal didn’t pass out.
“It is for the best, Centurion,” Salvatore said between gasps.
“How?” Rory muttered darkly. It was a cruel joke in his mind. He and the Pandorica were getting further and further away from England.
“God works in mysterious ways.” Salvatore chuckled but it quickly turned into a cough.
They walked out into the bright sunshine and it took a second for Rory’s eyes to adjust. When his vision did clear, he immediately noticed four men chatting in the courtyard. Three of them were unfamiliar to him. There were two older men and a teenaged boy, all with dark hair and an olive complexion. The similar features made him wonder if they were related. The last man, with a large, hooked nose, was someone Rory had seen numerous times around the stronghold. They had conversed often when the man wasn’t off with the knights fighting in the latest Crusade.
The arrival of the Pandorica did not go amiss. The four men in the courtyard stopped their conversation to watch the Knights Hospitaller deliver the stone box. There were looks of awe from the newcomers and the other man looked on proudly, like he had personally discovered the Pandorica and it was his to parade around.
Rory strode past the box and headed straight for his acquaintance. The man’s proud expression quickly fell and was replaced with one of surprise. He hadn’t expected to see Rory here. The man had been planning to move the Pandorica without telling him.
The realization stirred Rory’s temper. “Tebaldo,” he greeted, nodding at the man. There was no doubt that Tebaldo Visconti was the new Pope, but just to irk the man, he chose not to address him appropriately.
“Centurion.” The greeting was civil, but Visconti’s voice sounded strained.
“I am told you gave the order to move the Pandorica.”
“I did, yes. These fine men have agreed to sell the Pandorica on behalf of the Church.” Visconti looked past Rory, probably in hopes of including the three men into the conversation to ease tensions, but Rory stepped in front of the newly elected Pope, blocking his eye line.
“The Pandorica is not yours to sell,” Rory said through gritted teeth.
“The Knights Templar donated it to the Vatican.” Visconti’s voice rose slightly as he fought to stay calm. “It is our property and thus we are free to do what we want with it.”
“I am the Pandorica’s protector.” He was nearly 1200 years old. Didn’t that entitle him to have some say in the matter?
“And you have done a wonderful job.” Visconti’s tone made it clear that this was the end of the argument. He dodged around Rory to speak with the two older gentlemen. “I know you do not wish to delay any further, but I offer you one last gift.”
Rory eyed the Pandorica, wishing it was smaller and lighter. His life would have been so much easier if he had been able to keep the box in his pocket.
“… offer you the services of the Centurion.”
Rory looked up sharply. He hadn’t been paying attention to Visconti, but he had caught the tail end of his sentence. “You what?” he nearly shouted, stepping up next to the man.
“The Centurion will ensure that no harm befalls the Pandorica during your journey,” continued Visconti, acting like Rory hadn’t spoken. “He is also a strong, able-bodied warrior and I am sure he will be able to assist you in times of trouble.”
“I’m not-” Rory began in English and he had to pause and take a deep breath. “I am not a commodity to be traded,” he said in Italian. Everyone present in the courtyard looked unpleasantly awkward. They all probably wished that they could be elsewhere right now, instead of witnessing a heated argument.
“Then the choice is yours, Centurion. You can remain here in Acre, you can travel to another city, free from your burden, or you can travel with the Pandorica.”
Rory felt like cursing Visconti. The man was leaving him with no choice at all. He was bound to the Pandorica. He would have to leave for China with these men regardless. For a man of the Church, Visconti was exceptionally cunning. “I choose the Pandorica.” He tried to make it sound like an honour, but he still came off as begrudging.
“I wish you a safe journey, Centurion.” Visconti held out his hand to Rory.
Rory ignored him and walked off to help load the Pandorica onto a large wagon.
Rating: PG
Characters: Rory, with appearances from Barbara
Timeline: set between "The Pandorica Opens" and "The Big Bang"
Summary: London, 1996. Barbara Wright prepares the Pandorica for exhibit at the National Museum. As the work unfolds, she recounts the lengthy history of the stone box and its loyal protector, the Lone Centurion.
Disclaimer: Doctor Who belongs to the BBC. Everything else is me taking liberties with history.
A/N: A huge thank you to my beta
punch_kicker15. This story would still be sitting on my hard drive if it weren't for you.1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43 | 44 | 45 | 46 | 47 | 48 | 49
Part Four: Journey to Cathay
It was safe to say that technology was not Barbara’s friend. It was probably because she was a historian. She could see the value in keeping the old ways alive. So, to her, the computer on her desk was a necessary evil. The museum was relying on computers more and more and she would have to, too, if she wanted to continue doing her job.
She sat and watched apathetically as a woman from the museum’s technical department fiddled around with her computer. The thing had stopped working all of a sudden, right while she had been in the middle of typing up some notes. If computers were supposed to be the way of the future, then they needed some more work first.
The woman glanced over at her and smiled apologetically. It wasn’t just a smile to placate Barbara. It was a genuine smile of reassurance. With her curly ginger hair and bubbly personality, it seemed like she could put anyone at ease. “We’re trying to set up a new network. Looks like it was too much for some of these older computers.”
Barbara didn’t bother to point out that she only got the machine six months ago. It also didn’t help that the woman helping her was likely half her age. “Network?” She could still remember using slide rulers.
“It would link all of the computers together and give the museum staff a central place to store all of the documents for easy access.” It sounded like the woman could go on and on about computers all day.
“Uh, excuse me, Miss…” Barbara trailed off, realizing she hadn’t even asked what the woman’s name was.
“Melanie Bush. Mel,” the woman insisted.
“Mel. Is this going to take long?”
“That depends on your computer. Some of these things have a mind of their own.” Mel smiled again, likely referencing a personal joke of hers. She looked around at the papers covering Barbara’s desk. “Oh, you’re looking after the Anomalies.”
Barbara was impressed. There were numerous papers on her desk and not all of them were obviously titled. Mel seemed like one of the lucky few endowed with a photographic memory. “Yes, I am.”
“I loved reading about the Pandorica as a child. There’s a mystery about it that just pulls you in. I’ll have this fixed as soon as possible.”
There was nothing else that needed to be said. Mel dived back into her work, becoming completely absorbed in her task. Barbara quietly left her office to allow the woman to work in peace. With nothing to do for the moment, she headed into the museum to check on the progress of the exhibits. When she last left it, Dorothy had been supervising the installation of the dinosaurs on ice.
The dinosaurs were indeed on their fake blocks of polystyrene ice when she entered the exhibit hall. The penguins in the Nile were also set up. She passed by the stone idols, at home in their jungle setting, and entered the main exhibit room.
Not surprisingly, she found she wasn’t alone. A familiar figure dressed in security guard black stared up at the newly hung poster outlining the Pandorica’s timeline.
As Barbara got closer, she noticed that the security guard’s attention was fixed on a certain date. She was only a step away when he said, “Marco Polo.”
For a brief moment she thought he was playing the children’s game, but then she saw the date and description at which he stared. 1275 A.D.; Sold by Marco Polo. “That’s wrong.” Barbara couldn’t help saying so.
The security guard looked over at her. “Oh?”
“Marco was only seventeen when he left Venice for China in 1271. I doubt he was the one who convinced the Vatican to sell the Pandorica. That should really read ‘Sold by the Polos.’”
“Why haven’t you changed it then?” asked the security guard.
“It’s a misconception that’s been perpetuated throughout history and it’s so deeply engrained into our culture that it’s become the truth. To change it now would be like telling people today that the Earth isn’t the centre of the universe.”
The security guard didn’t say anything. Barbara cleared her throat to cover up the awkward silence. She hadn’t meant to sound so overly dramatic. “But that’s just my opinion,” she added.
“I like your opinion.” The young man spoke plainly. He wasn’t trying to butter her up; he was just offering the truth. He looked back up at the poster, missing Barbara’s look of quiet admiration. “So why did the Polos need the Pandorica to go to China?”
“Call it a late addition to the expedition.”
* * *
Acre, 1271 A.D.
It seemed in bad taste to punch a Cardinal, but that didn’t mean Rory wasn’t tempted.
“Who said you could move the Pandorica?” he demanded in Italian. He could only watch as a group of Knights Hospitaller hauled the stone box out of the room. Rory had no qualms about attacking a knight, even if that knight worked for the Church, but he couldn’t do much if he was being guarded by three more knights, all with their swords drawn.
Cardinal Salvatore mopped his sweaty brow with a lacy handkerchief. “We have orders.”
“From whom?”
“The Pope.”
The last Rory had heard, the College of Cardinals were still trying to decide on who should be the new Pope. It sounded like they had finally reached a decision after three years of debate. And, of course, the man’s first act in his new role had to involve the Pandorica. It wasn’t as if Rory was causing trouble. He had been a fine house guest since the Knights Templar moved their headquarters from Jerusalem to Acre.
The one hope Rory had was that the Pandorica was being moved to Italy. Maybe the new Pope wanted the mysterious object stored in the official papal residence at Viterbo. Italy was a lot closer to England than Acre was.
“What is the Pandorica’s destination?” asked Rory, trying to sound civil.
“Cathay,” replied Salvatore, though he spoke slowly as if afraid he was giving away vital information.
It took Rory a second to figure out where that was and when he did, a feeling of dread descended up on him. He had seen plenty of maps while with the Knights Templar. Cathay was what they called China in this time period. They were moving the Pandorica to China.
He shook his head. “No.” He had remained in the Holy Land because he had the protection of the knights and the Church. In China, he didn’t know what would happen to him or the Pandorica. Rory pushed past his guards, not caring if he was run through by one of their swords. He felt one blade graze his armour, but his guards were too shocked to do much beyond gawk and they let him pass.
Further down the corridor, the other Knights Hospitaller dragged the Pandorica along using ropes, leaving behind scratches on the floor. All of their attention was on their task and they didn’t see Rory.
He quietly drew his sword. These knights had become his friends, just like de Payens and his men. They were just following orders, but he couldn’t let them take away the only thing of importance in his life. He would avoid killing them, but there would be casualties. Good thing these knights were doctors, too.
Just as Rory raised his sword, Cardinal Salvatore cried out. “Wait!”
The Knights Hospitaller looked up and back, finally noticing Rory. He hesitated.
And good thing, too. “The Pope is here in Acre,” said Salvatore, running down the corridor towards Rory. He fought to speak and catch his breath at the same time. “We can avoid bloodshed.”
For a second, Rory’s sword remained raised above his head. The knight closest to him, a young man named Richard, swallowed nervously. He had just joined the order last month, fresh from a little town in the British Midlands. The young man looked no older than Rory himself. He doubted he had seen any battles yet.
Carefully, Rory lowered his sword. The other knights breathed a sigh of relief, but Richard regarded him with a wary gaze, almost in fear. Rory averted his gaze and concentrated on returning his sword to his sheath.
Salvatore huffed over. He was well into his sixties and the warmer climate of Acre never seemed to agree with him. With his red face, he looked ready to collapse. “The Pope… Pandorica…” He waved his handkerchief vaguely in the direction of the courtyard.
The knights took that as their cue. Tugging on the ropes, and with liberal amounts of grunting, they slowly got the Pandorica moving again. Rory thought of joining them and giving them a boost of strength, but then he recalled the look he had seen on Richard’s face. Instead, he hung back with Salvatore, watching to make sure that the Cardinal didn’t pass out.
“It is for the best, Centurion,” Salvatore said between gasps.
“How?” Rory muttered darkly. It was a cruel joke in his mind. He and the Pandorica were getting further and further away from England.
“God works in mysterious ways.” Salvatore chuckled but it quickly turned into a cough.
They walked out into the bright sunshine and it took a second for Rory’s eyes to adjust. When his vision did clear, he immediately noticed four men chatting in the courtyard. Three of them were unfamiliar to him. There were two older men and a teenaged boy, all with dark hair and an olive complexion. The similar features made him wonder if they were related. The last man, with a large, hooked nose, was someone Rory had seen numerous times around the stronghold. They had conversed often when the man wasn’t off with the knights fighting in the latest Crusade.
The arrival of the Pandorica did not go amiss. The four men in the courtyard stopped their conversation to watch the Knights Hospitaller deliver the stone box. There were looks of awe from the newcomers and the other man looked on proudly, like he had personally discovered the Pandorica and it was his to parade around.
Rory strode past the box and headed straight for his acquaintance. The man’s proud expression quickly fell and was replaced with one of surprise. He hadn’t expected to see Rory here. The man had been planning to move the Pandorica without telling him.
The realization stirred Rory’s temper. “Tebaldo,” he greeted, nodding at the man. There was no doubt that Tebaldo Visconti was the new Pope, but just to irk the man, he chose not to address him appropriately.
“Centurion.” The greeting was civil, but Visconti’s voice sounded strained.
“I am told you gave the order to move the Pandorica.”
“I did, yes. These fine men have agreed to sell the Pandorica on behalf of the Church.” Visconti looked past Rory, probably in hopes of including the three men into the conversation to ease tensions, but Rory stepped in front of the newly elected Pope, blocking his eye line.
“The Pandorica is not yours to sell,” Rory said through gritted teeth.
“The Knights Templar donated it to the Vatican.” Visconti’s voice rose slightly as he fought to stay calm. “It is our property and thus we are free to do what we want with it.”
“I am the Pandorica’s protector.” He was nearly 1200 years old. Didn’t that entitle him to have some say in the matter?
“And you have done a wonderful job.” Visconti’s tone made it clear that this was the end of the argument. He dodged around Rory to speak with the two older gentlemen. “I know you do not wish to delay any further, but I offer you one last gift.”
Rory eyed the Pandorica, wishing it was smaller and lighter. His life would have been so much easier if he had been able to keep the box in his pocket.
“… offer you the services of the Centurion.”
Rory looked up sharply. He hadn’t been paying attention to Visconti, but he had caught the tail end of his sentence. “You what?” he nearly shouted, stepping up next to the man.
“The Centurion will ensure that no harm befalls the Pandorica during your journey,” continued Visconti, acting like Rory hadn’t spoken. “He is also a strong, able-bodied warrior and I am sure he will be able to assist you in times of trouble.”
“I’m not-” Rory began in English and he had to pause and take a deep breath. “I am not a commodity to be traded,” he said in Italian. Everyone present in the courtyard looked unpleasantly awkward. They all probably wished that they could be elsewhere right now, instead of witnessing a heated argument.
“Then the choice is yours, Centurion. You can remain here in Acre, you can travel to another city, free from your burden, or you can travel with the Pandorica.”
Rory felt like cursing Visconti. The man was leaving him with no choice at all. He was bound to the Pandorica. He would have to leave for China with these men regardless. For a man of the Church, Visconti was exceptionally cunning. “I choose the Pandorica.” He tried to make it sound like an honour, but he still came off as begrudging.
“I wish you a safe journey, Centurion.” Visconti held out his hand to Rory.
Rory ignored him and walked off to help load the Pandorica onto a large wagon.
Tags:
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Date: 2013-05-19 07:41 pm (UTC)Awesome chapter, lovie!!
*HUGS*
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Date: 2013-05-20 01:23 am (UTC)I like to think that the Church was wary of Rory and this was their way of forcing him to leave their purview.
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Date: 2013-05-20 01:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-05-19 11:26 pm (UTC)and bonus Surprise Mel! Awesome.
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Date: 2013-05-20 01:26 am (UTC)