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Myfanwy 2

November 2017

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Myfanwy 2

A Mother's Life - Chapter Nine

A Mother's Life - Chapter Nine
Author: Milady Dragon
Series: Dragon-Verse
Rating: PG-13
Pairing(s): Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones, Anwyn Harkness-Jones/Gwaine, Phil Coulson/Clint Barton, Arthur/Merlin, Rowena Harkess-Jones/Henry Morgan, Other Pairings
Warnings: Fluff, a little Angst, Reincarnation, Lots of Timey Wimey.
Spoilers:  Small ones for Doctor Who and for Warehouse 13.
Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood, I would have treated it better.
Author's Note: This is the third story of the Samara Wells trilogy.  It does a little skip in time, taking place immediately after the events of "Lost and Found"

Summary:  Someone arrives in Samara's life that turns it upside down, and makes her a part of history she never knew she would be.


2 June 1891 (Old Earth Date)

London, England

 

Helena met them at ten minutes past midnight, carrying a burlap sack with her.

Samara would have felt much more unsafe if it hadn’t been for Rhys.  His sturdiness kept her nerves under control as they lingered in the shadows of the dirty alleyway, the distinctive sounds of rodents rummaging through the trash that littered the cobblestones.

She would be very glad to get back to her home time.

Certainly, the future wasn’t perfect, not by any stretch of the imagination.  But it was familiar, and Samara knew how to handle things then.  She would be able to openly carry her faithful rifle on such a mission, and Rhys would have been armed as well. 

But now, they had to be unarmed. 

At least River Song was up on the rooftop, keeping a watch.

“She’s here,” River’s voice whispered in Samara’s ear, through the comm unit she was wearing.  It had doubled as a translation device, which was a good thing as Samara didn’t speak Old Earth English.  Rhys did, however, and he’d used the opportunity to have his own translator shut down. 

His accent was slightly different than when his words were being translated, and Samara though she might very well miss the changes when they got back home.

She’d asked him, as they were waiting for midnight to get there, if he ever considered going back to his own time. 

“Nah,” he’d answered.  “I’ve got all I want now.  There’s no need to go back.”

She’d been glad of that.  She’d have missed him terribly if he left.

That realisation had stunned her a little.

They had only known each other for several days, and yet Samara had come to expect Rhys’ presence.  He’d slotted himself into her life seamlessly, as if he’d always belonged there.  It was considerably more than wanting to have sex with him; well, there was that, because she thought him quite pleasing to look at, and he made her laugh, plus he was quietly intelligent, and fiercely loyal to the people he cared about. 

Rhys wasn’t as serious as her Franklin had been, and had a sarcastic sense of humour. He was highly opinionated; Ianto had told her that his nickname back in the days of the old Torchwood team had been Rhys the Rant, because he had a tendency to carry on about things that he believed in.  He felt deeply and well, that being evident over Nathan and what had happened to her young great-grandson.  They’d been to visit on Hubworld, and she’d seen how much he cared for Nathan, and Nathan had adopted him as another uncle.  Samara knew he would make a wonderful father.

That was the drawback.  She was of an age where it would be nearly impossible for her to get pregnant again, and Rhys deserved to have children of his own.  She would never give him that, and in her mind that took her out of any sort of relationship equation.

Oh, not that she believed that her own self-worth was predicated on her ability to get pregnant.  That wasn’t the case at all.  But Rhys deserved to be happy, and Samara could tell that a family would do that for him.  She wasn’t about to stand in the way of that.

The scuff of a shoe on the cobblestones had Samara pushing her thoughts to the back of her mind.  One of the shadows was moving, and she was grateful that River had already warned them that it was Helena, or else she would have been more startled than she was.

She was wearing a black coat, which helped her blend into the darkness.  The lighter colour of the bag she held cradled in her arms negated the effect, but Helena didn’t seem to mind.  She smiled as she noticed Samara and Rhys waiting for her, but she didn’t say anything; she simply passed the bag to Rhys, who accepted it reverently, letting the burlap fall away to reveal two oval shapes that had Samara gasping in joy.

Her hands trembling, she reached out for one of the eggs.  It felt slightly gritty under her fingers, but she lifted it, pulling it to her and holding it against her chest, rocking it as if it were a child that was aware of their surroundings.  “Oh, there you are, sweetheart,” she crooned.  “You and your sibling are going to be so very loved in your new home…”

“If I had any doubts about this,” Helena murmured, “they were just dispelled.  You really do love those little dragons, and you haven’t even met them yet.”  She sighed.  “And you might not.  They’ve been exposed to high levels of neutraliser.  There’s no telling what that might do to them.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Rhys answered.  He was holding the other egg, and the expression on his face said that he was already besotted with the idea of the baby within.  “They’ll be going home, where they belong.”

“The future sounds wonderful,” Helena said wistfully. 

“It’s not perfect,” Rhys replied, echoing Samara’s earlier thoughts, “but it has its good side.  And family is the most important thing.”

“That it is,” Samara agreed. 

“Well,” Helena drawled, “as nice as this has been, I should really be getting home before those eggs are missed.  Not that I think it would be right away, but they will eventually, and I should solidify my alibi for this evening.”

“Thank you,” Samara told her gratefully.

“No, Mr Williams is correct…family is the important thing, and children are the future.  I was glad to do the right thing in this circumstance.”

“You did.  We’ll take very good care of these babies.”

“I doubt we shall see each other again, but I do wish you the best of luck with them.”  With a jaunty salute, Helena Wells turned on her heel and left, fading into the shadows.

Samara desperately wanted to call her back.  To repay her kindness by warning her about her daughter, and what was going to happen to her daughter, Christina, in the next month.  Family was important, and Helena didn’t deserve to lose hers this way.

But she couldn’t.

The future was balanced on Helena’s actions, and if Christina didn’t die then Samara herself would have never been born…which meant far too many consequences for the Empire…and for Samara’s family.

It came down to family in the end.

There was a rustling sound, and then River was joining them.  She was smiling somewhat smugly, but then Samara thought she’d earned it.  After all, it had been her idea for Samara to come back and try to convince Helena to help them get the eggs.

“Mission accomplished then,” River pronounced.  She flipped open her Vortex Manipulator.  “Let’s head back, shall we?”

She pushed a couple of buttons, then held out her wrist.  Without needing to be told, both Rhys and Samara rested their hands on the wrist strap, clutching their eggs tightly to them as River took them back to the future.





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