fic_of_fork: (Default)
[personal profile] fic_of_fork
Word Count: 2484
Summary:  Echoes of the past spill into the present, when the Doctor crash lands on a planet he's never visited. A crossover with the Warcraft universe in World of Warcraft.  Thanks to [livejournal.com profile] zurcherart  ,[livejournal.com profile] persiflage_1  ,  the Hoopy Frood, and [livejournal.com profile] mtemplar_fic  for the betas!
Warnings: None
Rating: PG
Characters: Tenth Doctor
Genre: Action/Adventure, Crossover, General
Author's Note:  More spoilers for the Death Knight quests
Disclaimer:  I don't own Doctor Who, Torchwood, Bernice Summerfield, or any of its characters, and I'm receiving no profit from this beyond the joy of writing.  While I raid with a level 80 warlock, I don't own World of Warcraft, either.

Prologue


In a dense wood, at the very threshold of evening, a blue box appeared from nowhere in a rush of wind and amidst a loud grating noise that sent deer and other once-sleeping wildlife running for their very lives. A bevy of startled quail fled screeching through the twilight, but a lone figure near a campfire watched the blue box, her hand hovering close to a large bastard sword.

Calmly, she observed how the door to the box opened, belching smoke. A man who looked human spilled out of the box while blasting the insides from a large metal container. Peering behind him through the smoke, she could barely make out a golden room inside with a great dais in the center. As the man sprayed the frosty substance over the myriad of small fires that sprung up all around the dais, he coughed and gasped for breath. She watched the scene with interest. The man from the box didn't appear to be armed, and wore no armor. Something within her tensed as she heard a fizzle from within the box.

"Get down!" she yelled. The man was oblivious to her warning, still spraying the inside surfaces. She heard another fizzle and dove for him, cursing the fact that she still wore her plate armor.

The two of them toppled over each other, and sparks and flares erupted from the box. Carefully, she pulled herself off him, but the man didn't move. For a moment she wondered if she'd seriously injured the man. Finally, he groaned, then scraped himself off the ground while brushing away dirt and grass stains.

"Hell of an entrance, and I'm sorry for interrupting your tea," he said.

"Are you injured?" she said. She pulled off her great horned helm, remembering at the last moment the effect her full suit of armor had on people.

"Oh, just a bit bruised, and that's only my dignity," the man said. "That's quite a suit of armor you have there," he said while fully noticing her. "By the way, I'm the Doctor."

She warily eyed the Doctor, suspicious of his every move. "My name and my business are my own," she said, taking her place by her campfire, sitting on a fallen tree, ever close to her sword.

"Fair enough," the Doctor said. He studied the woman before the campfire. She was as tall as he was, perhaps a hair taller in her armor. The armor was black and seemed to absorb the darkness around her, while parts of it glinted dark blue. Always near her was a bare two-handed sword that glinted in the moonlight. It was etched in various runes the Doctor couldn't read, and it glowed with its own light.

She held out a canteen of water, which the Doctor gratefully accepted. "To chance meetings," he said as he took a sip.

"There aren't many who would share a drink with my kind," she said calmly. "You're clearly human. What do you do to earn your keep? Are you a mage? A priest?"

Without her helmet, the Doctor could clearly see her face. It was oval, and her eyes glowed silver--it wasn't just an effect of the helmet. Her skin appeared to be pale, while her hair--in a long braid--was so black it appeared blue. What was most remarkable about her, though, were her spectacularly long, pointed ears.

"Yeah, common mistake, that. I'm not human," the Doctor replied. "Say, what planet is this, anyway?"

"Azeroth," she replied.

“Azeroth? You know, I don't believe I've been here before. That's saying something, given all the places and times I've been. I can hardly believe my good luck. Broken down someplace I've never been. By the way, just what are you? I don't think I've ever seen your kind before. You almost look like an elf,” the Doctor babbled, barely able to restrain his glee.

“Night Elf,” she replied.

Something within her tone told the Doctor to not press his line of investigation into her origins further. His suspicions were confirmed when she briefly couldn't look at him directly. "Quite right," the Doctor responded quietly.

Jumping up, he paced back to the box, which made her jump slightly and grab her sword. "Now then. Had a spot of trouble with the TARDIS--that's my ship. She's out of commission while she repairs herself, and the coaxial stabilizers are fried. Say, you wouldn't know where I could get some new ones, would you? Failing that, I need some sort of crystalline substance and an energy source."

"You might be able to find something like that in Stormwind. The Gnomes and Dwarves have a presence there and are skilled in engineering. I know the Draenei use crystals for power, and there might be one you can trade with."

"Oh brilliant," the Doctor said. "Can hardly believe my good luck." He sat back down opposite the woman and grinned broadly. "You don't mind, do you?" he asked. "No need for me to be rude. Just point me on my way."

"You're unarmed and without any kind of protection," she scoffed. "You wouldn't last a mile against most of the things living in these woods, and I'd give you a quarter of a mile against the rest.”

“I'm quite resourceful.” The Doctor waited for the elf to quit laughing. "Best wait until dawn, then? By the way, what do I call you?" he asked.

"Whatever you like," she said, with a hint of melancholy edging into her voice.

“Well, pick something,” the Doctor said. “I can't very well call you Dobby. “

"I have no right to my name. Not that I expect a stranger to understand, " she said, her voice heavy with shame.

"Oh, I think you'll find me a sympathetic listener," the Doctor said.

She heard the arrow before she felt it, where it embedded in the joint between her leg pieces. Growling, she replaced her helm and turned towards the direction the arrow came from as she readied her sword. Purple lightning arced from one of her hands, and a bandit flew towards her still holding his bow, as if the purple light were a leash. She raised her sword to strike the bandit, when she heard the Doctor's voice thundering behind her.

"Stop it! Stop it right now," he yelled. "You do not want to make an enemy of me."

Still attached to her with the purple ray of light, The bandit quaked in the presence of both of them. Turning her head, she looked at the Doctor, and the blaze in his eyes made some part of her churn. His sense of command she had seen before, after a battle, near a chapel far away from where she was presently. Grudgingly, she let the bandit go, the purple light fading. The bandit ran away from them as she slowly turned to face the Doctor.

From deep within her armor, her voice echoed. More than ever, she looked like a demon or a lich in armor. "Do you know what I am?" her voice rasped, as her eyes glowed deep within the great horned helmet. She held her sword in one hand, with the point of it in the Doctor's direction. The runes on it blazed.

"Wounded," the Doctor said, motioning to the arrow sticking out of her thigh. "You'd better let me take a look at that before you loose too much blood," he said.

"It's nothing," she said, removing her helmet.

"Nothing?" the Doctor asked, his voice rising in incredulity. "You've got an arrow sticking out of your leg. That's hardly nothing. Hold on, let me fetch something for it, and we'll get it out of there."

"No need," she said, as she grasped the shaft of the arrow and pulled.

The Doctor yelped in empathy. "That was the wrong way to remove an arrow," he stammered. "You daft? You just made it worse!"

The woman laughed with a laugh as dry as her voice. "Look," she said as she removed the leg plate.

Through the gray trousers she wore underneath her armor, the Doctor could see a jagged tear, where the arrow had pierced. But the flesh underneath was whole. "Interesting," the Doctor said, examining where the arrow was. "Didn't think your kind had regenerative properties. How are you doing that? Should take some massive energy influx, and I know a thing or two about regeneration."

"You have no idea who or what I am," she said sadly, not believing the man who chose to keep her company.

"Nope," the Doctor responded, sitting back down on his log. "You've got me stumped, and that's saying a lot. Takes a lot to stump a Time Lord."

“Would you believe I can't die?”

The Doctor put on a pair of thick-rimmed glasses and studied her for a moment. “You're not like Captain Jack–time actually flows backwards for him when he dies.” He removed his glasses. “Nope. No idea how you're doing that.”

The Night Elf replaced her leg plate, and as she worked, she seemed to fade in with the shadows. She slung her sword in its scabbard over a shoulder and kicked dirt onto the small campfire. Satisfied that the fire was extinguished, she grabbed her pack and turned her attention to the Doctor.

“Are you coming? I have business in Stormwind. I can take you as far as the city gates.”

“I thought you said we wouldn't last against whatever's in that forest?” the Doctor asked.

“I said you wouldn't last. Nothing in these woods can touch me,” she calmly replied. “Can you ride?”

“I don't see a horse,” the Doctor responded.

“Can you ride a horse without falling off?” she asked again. “Or do I have to tie you over the saddle?”

The Doctor gave an affronted sniff. He couldn't help noticing how shadows were swirling around his traveling companion. “I'll have you know I'm an accomplished equestrian.”

Before the Doctor could finish, the shadows swirled faster around the elf, and a horse screamed, its echo piercing the calm around them. When the Doctor looked again, she was sedately mounted on a dark horse. The Doctor hadn't ever seen a creature like its kind before: great horns curved around its head, and it wore armor similar to the plate worn by its rider. Whenever its hooves struck the ground, silver sparks and fire shot up.

“I didn't say I was walking,” she replied. “We can arrive as the city gates open. I'd rather not put off my business in Stormwind any longer than I have to.”

“Fair enough,” the Doctor said. Grinning, he ignored her arm and vaulted to a spot behind her.

“Hold on,” she said.

“We've only just met!” the Doctor objected. Sighing, he slipped an arm around her waist.

“Tighter!” she commanded. “I'm not going back to pick you up, if you fall off.”

The Doctor did as he was told, but before he knew what happened, they were off. Breathless with excitement, he reveled in the speed at which they flew over the ground. The horse deftly picked its way around boulders, while easily vaulting over low obstructions.

A few hours later, the Night Elf had to wonder about her passenger. His excitement gave way to wonder. And while anyone else would be grumbling, he'd started singing various songs. She reasoned that beer must be an important commodity where he was from, given the length of one of the songs he sung about ninety-nine bottles of beer. Wonderful, she thought to herself, I'm stuck with a deranged mage, who was raised by dwarves.

***


The Doctor was about to ask for a few moments to stop and stretch his legs, when they slowed to a halt in front of great bridge. The sun was just beginning to rise, and they could make out the walls of a large city ahead of them in the early morning mist. He had to wonder why they had carefully skirted around a town on the main path, only rejoining it when they were well beyond the town's boundaries.

The Night Elf dismounted and held the horse still, so that the Doctor could also dismount. When he did, the horse disappeared in a rush of wind and shadow. “You may not want to be seen with me,” she said as she warily looked at the gates ahead.

The Doctor said nothing, but watched her with intense curiosity for a moment. “I've no reason not to trust you,” he finally said.

Removing her helm, she tucked it under an arm and said, “Let's get this over with.”

They walked in silence the rest of the way to the gates of Stormwind. Just as they were about to cross over the bridge, a tomato splattered on the center of the Doctor's companion's breastplate.

“Murderer!” a guard shouted.

“Get the rope, boys! We're going to have ourselves a hanging!” another yelled as he spat at the Night Elf.

All along the road into Stormwind people began to assemble, barely restrained by the guards. People threw whatever they had at her, as she walked along. Rocks bounced off her armor, and soon the path was slimy with rotten food, spit, and overturned chamber pots. Throughout it all, she held her head high.

The Doctor followed by her side, dodging rocks and trying to plead with people. More than once he got hit by flying refuse himself.

“The Scourge killed my family! How dare you associate with that thing!” one woman shouted at him, after she spat at him.

The Doctor said nothing, but reached out for the Night Elf's hand. He grasped it and gave it a gentle squeeze as they walked. She turned, momentarily stunned, and gaped at the Doctor, but said nothing. Finally they were before the gates of a palace.

“I don't know about you,” the Doctor said, “but that put me off salad for a bit.” He tried to wipe away at one spot on his brown suit. “Aw, and I used to like bananas, too.” The Doctor saw a great shadow on the ground that blotted out the sun, but when the Doctor looked up, the sky was clear.

She smiled, and for once, was glad that the Doctor remained with her. Guards blocked her way. "Let me pass. My business is with the king."

"Yeah right," the one guard said. "Next you'll be saying you have a letter from Tirion Fordring, himself."

She carefully reached into her pack. "Actually," she said, "I do."

The guard took her letter and examined the seal. The Night Elf looked over at the Doctor, and marveled at the change in his demeanor. His change was nothing she could put a finger on, but it was obvious that he had been in the presence of royalty before, if he wasn't royalty himself. The guard straightened, muttered a half-hearted apology, and escorted them both inside.
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