Rosa Mystica: Chapter Four
Sep. 6th, 2010 10:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dancingbarefootTitle: Rosa Mystica
Chapter: 4/?
Written by: dancingbarefoot
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Beta: None but if anyone’s interested let me know.
Rating: PG up to R, we’ll see as it goes.
A/N: I’m a Romanov and Royalty buff and so decided to mix that with Torchwood and here we go.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. No copyright infringement is intended and the real folks in this own themselves.
“If this is going to be like my Vincent turning into Vanessa story then I think I’m going to need a drink.”
Ianto did confused expressions well. It was one of the perks of being Jack’s archivist as he shook his head. “Try to keep up with the train Jack, it’s nothing like that and you’re not helping me here.” He managed to untangle himself and led his lover to the bed, letting him get settled before he spoke again.
“I’m Ianto Jones, because I had my name changed when I was 13. I’m not a natural born Welshman.” He took a breath. “The reason I know so much is because I read a lot, I had plenty of time to study because I was very sick as a child. I know of the rift because – .”
Jack interrupted. “Because you worked at Torchwood One, I know that.”
“No, because I met your Doctor who dumped me here and allowed me to come into the clutches of Torchwood, Jack.”
He wasn’t expecting that, Ianto thought silently to himself, allowing Jack to try to work that in his head.
“Not that I had really much say, I was traumatized, I was bleeding to death and in hysterics when he rescued me out of the basement. There was so much blood; I can still smell the smoke.”
This detachment that Jack was hearing in Ianto’s voice scared him. “You mean Canary Wharf?”
“No Jack, I don’t.”
Ianto went to the closet just opposite to Jack’s side of the bed and came out with a leather bound album.
“I had to get this from her when I asked for the permission to allow you into the confidence.”
“Ask who?”
“Her Majesty, Jack.” Ianto pressed the photo album into Jack’s hands. “My cousin Elizabeth.”
“What did you take Ianto that would have you hallucinating like this.” Jack asked, ignoring the heavy weight in his hands. "Do I need to get Owen involved tomorrow?"
“Nothing Jack, I swear.” Ianto said seriously, pointing at the album. “That should actually be in our archives, not at Windsor. But I am telling you the truth.”
“Why should this be in Torchwood’s archives?”
“Because in 1920, at Windsor Castle, there was a conclave of Royal family members ordered by King George the Fifth, to come to an urgent family war council. It was also required that the Prime Minister of the time was there, along with the Privy Council and the head of Torchwood, Charles Gaskell.”
Jack’s eyes widened. “Why do I not know of this and you do?”
“I believe it was during your sojourn in India and I know of it because it was concerning me.”
“Ianto, you were born in 1983.”
“I was born in 1904.” He threw up his hands. “This album contains the whole story Jack. I’ll let you read it and I’m going to go make some coffee. This is going to take all night.”
*~*~*~*~*
1920 – Windsor
“Then why were we not told of this?”
Charles closed the file, allowing the room to attempt to calm down before speaking. Looking at everyone, he chose his words carefully.
“According to our physician, the young Tsarevich when he was found on the Plass was suffering from severe wounds. He had been shot twice in the head; he had been stabbed with bayonets.”
King George, seeing the looks on both Victoria and Irene held up a hand. “ENOUGH!”
Louis, at his wife’s side looked up. “If his wounds were so, then how did he get to be in Cardiff of all places?”
Charles once again took a moment.
“The Institute was created by the Queen after an encounter with an entity known as the Doctor. He travels in a large blue box shaped ship. Reports by an agent who was on the way back to our base who found the boy... the Prince, stated that the ship landed there and that the boy was specifically placed on a lift that is used to get into our base.”
“Then how did nobody notice a traumatized fatally injured boy?”
“How does anyone dismiss things that they’re not ready to admit to seeing?” Charles replied to the angry tones of Victoria.
“The thing is the Prince was saved.”
Jack paused at that moment, looking around the room a moment. “The Prince was saved...”
It explained so much about Ianto, that fatalistic streak that Jack had always chalked up to being part of Torchwood One and everything that had come from being part of Torchwood Three. The scars that Ianto would joke away when Jack’s lips ghosted over them in their more intimate moments, how could he come out and explain that they were from bayonets and bullets.
“You’re thinking too hard Jack.”
He turned slightly, looking at the speaker with a raised eyebrow.
“Am I?”
“You are.” Ianto chuckled, placing the tray down on the table and handing Jack his coffee and pointed at the treats he had assembled on a plate. “I can see the wheels clicking in that creative brain of yours.”
“All the time, when I would watch you and think that your eyes are old ... it’s really because they are.”
Ianto leaned into his corner of the couch. “I’m not as old as you are.”
“I can’t even joke anymore; you’ll have me thrown into the gulag.”
Ianto’s eyes twinkled. “The first time I ever revealed my sense of humour, I was no more than 3. As the heir my father took great pride in showing me off. I was allowed to be at table, to be at something that my sisters were not. But being such a little slip of a boy, I soon was bored and slipped under the table and my father’s voice was heard ordering me to come out from under the table.”
Jack couldn’t help but grin, picturing the small boy.
“What happened next?”
“Oh, well of course I did come out.” Ianto replied, scratching the back of his neck. “But once more I was bored and decided that a lady in waiting to my mother looked far more appealing with just one shoe.”
“Kinky at such a young age, Mr Jones.” Jack tut-tutted. “Whatever am I going to do with you?”
“Everything I should hope.” Ianto grinned merrily. “So when she protested, I did give back her shoe under my father’s orders once more.”
“I sense a but coming in there somewhere.”
“Well that would be because there is one.” Ianto burst out laughing. “I slipped a strawberry onto her toe before putting her shoe back on. That was when I learnt never make a woman scream like that, outside of the bedroom I mean.”
“So should I be calling you Your Imperial Majesty?”
“Only if you want to go on decaf for a month at least depending on my mercurial mood, I haven’t been that boy for a long time Jack.”
Chapter: 4/?
Written by: dancingbarefoot
Pairing: Jack/Ianto
Beta: None but if anyone’s interested let me know.
Rating: PG up to R, we’ll see as it goes.
A/N: I’m a Romanov and Royalty buff and so decided to mix that with Torchwood and here we go.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. No copyright infringement is intended and the real folks in this own themselves.
“If this is going to be like my Vincent turning into Vanessa story then I think I’m going to need a drink.”
Ianto did confused expressions well. It was one of the perks of being Jack’s archivist as he shook his head. “Try to keep up with the train Jack, it’s nothing like that and you’re not helping me here.” He managed to untangle himself and led his lover to the bed, letting him get settled before he spoke again.
“I’m Ianto Jones, because I had my name changed when I was 13. I’m not a natural born Welshman.” He took a breath. “The reason I know so much is because I read a lot, I had plenty of time to study because I was very sick as a child. I know of the rift because – .”
Jack interrupted. “Because you worked at Torchwood One, I know that.”
“No, because I met your Doctor who dumped me here and allowed me to come into the clutches of Torchwood, Jack.”
He wasn’t expecting that, Ianto thought silently to himself, allowing Jack to try to work that in his head.
“Not that I had really much say, I was traumatized, I was bleeding to death and in hysterics when he rescued me out of the basement. There was so much blood; I can still smell the smoke.”
This detachment that Jack was hearing in Ianto’s voice scared him. “You mean Canary Wharf?”
“No Jack, I don’t.”
Ianto went to the closet just opposite to Jack’s side of the bed and came out with a leather bound album.
“I had to get this from her when I asked for the permission to allow you into the confidence.”
“Ask who?”
“Her Majesty, Jack.” Ianto pressed the photo album into Jack’s hands. “My cousin Elizabeth.”
“What did you take Ianto that would have you hallucinating like this.” Jack asked, ignoring the heavy weight in his hands. "Do I need to get Owen involved tomorrow?"
“Nothing Jack, I swear.” Ianto said seriously, pointing at the album. “That should actually be in our archives, not at Windsor. But I am telling you the truth.”
“Why should this be in Torchwood’s archives?”
“Because in 1920, at Windsor Castle, there was a conclave of Royal family members ordered by King George the Fifth, to come to an urgent family war council. It was also required that the Prime Minister of the time was there, along with the Privy Council and the head of Torchwood, Charles Gaskell.”
Jack’s eyes widened. “Why do I not know of this and you do?”
“I believe it was during your sojourn in India and I know of it because it was concerning me.”
“Ianto, you were born in 1983.”
“I was born in 1904.” He threw up his hands. “This album contains the whole story Jack. I’ll let you read it and I’m going to go make some coffee. This is going to take all night.”
*~*~*~*~*
1920 – Windsor
“Then why were we not told of this?”
Charles closed the file, allowing the room to attempt to calm down before speaking. Looking at everyone, he chose his words carefully.
“According to our physician, the young Tsarevich when he was found on the Plass was suffering from severe wounds. He had been shot twice in the head; he had been stabbed with bayonets.”
King George, seeing the looks on both Victoria and Irene held up a hand. “ENOUGH!”
Louis, at his wife’s side looked up. “If his wounds were so, then how did he get to be in Cardiff of all places?”
Charles once again took a moment.
“The Institute was created by the Queen after an encounter with an entity known as the Doctor. He travels in a large blue box shaped ship. Reports by an agent who was on the way back to our base who found the boy... the Prince, stated that the ship landed there and that the boy was specifically placed on a lift that is used to get into our base.”
“Then how did nobody notice a traumatized fatally injured boy?”
“How does anyone dismiss things that they’re not ready to admit to seeing?” Charles replied to the angry tones of Victoria.
“The thing is the Prince was saved.”
Jack paused at that moment, looking around the room a moment. “The Prince was saved...”
It explained so much about Ianto, that fatalistic streak that Jack had always chalked up to being part of Torchwood One and everything that had come from being part of Torchwood Three. The scars that Ianto would joke away when Jack’s lips ghosted over them in their more intimate moments, how could he come out and explain that they were from bayonets and bullets.
“You’re thinking too hard Jack.”
He turned slightly, looking at the speaker with a raised eyebrow.
“Am I?”
“You are.” Ianto chuckled, placing the tray down on the table and handing Jack his coffee and pointed at the treats he had assembled on a plate. “I can see the wheels clicking in that creative brain of yours.”
“All the time, when I would watch you and think that your eyes are old ... it’s really because they are.”
Ianto leaned into his corner of the couch. “I’m not as old as you are.”
“I can’t even joke anymore; you’ll have me thrown into the gulag.”
Ianto’s eyes twinkled. “The first time I ever revealed my sense of humour, I was no more than 3. As the heir my father took great pride in showing me off. I was allowed to be at table, to be at something that my sisters were not. But being such a little slip of a boy, I soon was bored and slipped under the table and my father’s voice was heard ordering me to come out from under the table.”
Jack couldn’t help but grin, picturing the small boy.
“What happened next?”
“Oh, well of course I did come out.” Ianto replied, scratching the back of his neck. “But once more I was bored and decided that a lady in waiting to my mother looked far more appealing with just one shoe.”
“Kinky at such a young age, Mr Jones.” Jack tut-tutted. “Whatever am I going to do with you?”
“Everything I should hope.” Ianto grinned merrily. “So when she protested, I did give back her shoe under my father’s orders once more.”
“I sense a but coming in there somewhere.”
“Well that would be because there is one.” Ianto burst out laughing. “I slipped a strawberry onto her toe before putting her shoe back on. That was when I learnt never make a woman scream like that, outside of the bedroom I mean.”
“So should I be calling you Your Imperial Majesty?”
“Only if you want to go on decaf for a month at least depending on my mercurial mood, I haven’t been that boy for a long time Jack.”
