The Queen and the Rose

Chapter 10

I wasn't going to post this until tomorrow, but everyone was like "WHAT??" So I took mercy.

She woke up laying on a bed, and by bed she sort of meant just a table.  But somehow she knew it was a bed.  Upon opening her eyes, she racked her brain.  She knew one thing.  Her name was Rose.

She sat up slowly, holding her head.  It hurt a bit, but not enough for her to be worried.  "Hello?" She called out, her voice hoarse.  She looked down at herself and saw that she was wearing a long, white, flowing gown, a large, decorative collar adorning her throat and gold cuffs on her wrists.  She furrowed her brows and stared down at her bare feet. 

Where was she?  Who was she, besides Rose?  She called out again, and she heard a hoarse groan from next to her.  She looked over to what was apparently another bed with a rather fit man lying on top of it.  She felt her stomach jump oddly just because she was looking at him.  And just who was this?  He was wearing a linen toga, covering what she was sure would be an impressive chest, and a collar similar and cuffs similar to her own.

Before she could think about it, she slid off her own bed, took a moment to get her bearings, and went to the man's side, touching his shoulder gently.  His brows were furrowed, and he looked troubled.  He made a soft noise of anguish and she shushed him, hoping to calm him. 

He was restless, that much was obvious, and Rose found herself running a hand through his (frankly magnificent) hair.  Somehow, it seemed to calm him.  His face relaxed and once she sensed that he was starting to wake up, she pulled her hand back to let it rest lightly on his arm, not being able to not touch him at all.

His eyes opened slowly and looked straight up into hers.  He smiled softly.  "Hello."

She couldn't stop herself, she smiled as well.  "Hello."

Something twinged in her brain at the word, like she'd set it to him before.  She gazed down at his face for a moment.  "Have we met?"

The man sat up, making her step back to give him room.  He cocked his head, regarding her carefully.  "I don't know, I... I can't seem to remember anything."

"I can only remember my name," Rose offered, "Can you remember yours?"

He was looking at her, his eyes full of something playful.  "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."

She smiled.  "My name's Rose."

The man swung his legs around so his feet hit the floor.  He reached his hands out for hers, and, feeling rather scandalous, she placed her hands in his.  He rubbed his thumbs over her knuckles, and something about it felt breathtakingly familiar.  "I only remember that I'm a doctor," he said quietly, "A medicine man."

Rose shrugged.  "I'll call you 'Doctor', then."

"Doctor," he said, rolling the word over his tongue.  "I think I like that."

The two watched each other, that strange sense of familiarity flooding through both of them.  Rose found herself wanting to reach out and touch his face.  "Do we know each other at all?" She asked, itching to know if he was feeling the same odd connection that she was.

"Yes, I rather think we did," The Doctor said thoughtfully, "Perhaps we were married?"

She bit her lip, "You think we were married."

"Uh," the Doctor looked away and then back at her, "If not that, we were... Something rather special."

"I sort of gathered that as well."

"Oh, did you?  That's...  That's good, very good.  Well, Rose, what do you say we try and figure out what's happened to us?"

Rose was about to answer when a man and woman entered the room with them.  They looked to be the epitome of royalty, and both of them shot to stand tall, facing the other couple.