Ballad of the Winter Rose A SW Rebels/Doctor Who Romance Written by: Nehru_Amidala Genre: Gothic romance, drama, hurt/comfort, dark fantasy, slight horror Characters: Grand Admiral Thrawn and Minerva Hektor (main), Governor Pryce, Agent Kallus, Eli Parck, Kanan Jarrus, Ghost Crew, River Song, Harriet Jones, others later on, Elena Cromwell (OC) Cast list: Minerva- Jenna Coleman, Thrawn- Lars Mikkelsen, Eli Parck- David Tennat, Elena Cromwell- Dame Maggie Smith, others to be announced in the following chapters. Pairings: Thrawn/Minerva (main), other pairing TBD. Rating: T/PG-13 for battle sequences, thematic elements, blood, snogging, SPOILERS for Thrawn Universe: Doctor Who and AU! Rebels Author’s note: For this story, Sy Baustri is equivalent to Greek. Greek text will be translated into English in parentheses. Chapter soundtrack: Overture/Ice Dance from Edward Scissorhands- Danny Elfman, Waltz of the Swans- Tchaikovsky, Resilience- Thomas Newman, Fairy Tale- Enya Chapter 1- When Twixt Two Lovers Meet England’s northern county of Tyne and Wear was wedged against the Scottish Highlands and the North Sea, its ancient forests dotted with ominous, blackened ruins of days gone by and rolling expanses of farm land occasionally marked by riots against the Labour party backed government led by the current PM, Margaret Thatcher. It was out here in the hinterlands where UNIT (and occasionally Torchwood) would conduct secret experiments at the behest of M1-6 and sometimes it was whispered, by those with darker intentions. Locals, who were used to strange goings on, said that the IRA had aligned itself with the Autons and were preparing for invasion. Other argued that it was Russians in league with either the Imperial Empire or the Daleks- even worse. The local magistrates were in utter fear of the local landed noble, a cold hearted harridan by the name of Elena Cromwell. From her estate outside the town of Newcastle-upon-Tyne, she ruled with an iron fist. She had the appearance of a strict headmistress with no concept of warmth. Indeed, the locals referred to her estate as Lowood. Indeed, it was surrounded by thick forests strewn with Anglo Saxon ruins, and the servants she employed were all as detached from their emotions as she was. The only spark of life in this bleak house was Elena’s young ward, a bright and talented mapmaker by the name of Minerva Hektor. She was tall and underweight for her age, which was 15 or so. Minerva had dark brown hair that fell in curls down to the middle of her back, with the most expressive blue-grey eyes. Her skin was fair for winter, as she was often forced to wear long sleeves even in summer because she was often beaten with a whip by her aunt for not justifiable reason. Certainly, she fought back but nobody ever came to the girl’s reason, because Elena had a selfish reason to keep Minerva outside and away from society. The reason was this, Minerva Hektor could create maps better than anyone before her, and even computer assisted maps were nowhere near as accurate as Minerva’s, and then there was the fact whenever she bled, golden light would escape from the wound and it would regenerate and her reflexes were downright Jedi like. This lead to the rumors that she was some sort of Jedi-Time Lord hybrid, and this was actually the truth. Her mother was River Song and her father was a Jedi by the name of Caleb Dume. The events that led to Minerva’s abduction at the age of two years by none other than John Saxon were sketchy, but what was true was that Lady Cromwell demanded her ward continue to live under her thumb and create maps that would be of use to the highest bidder. By the year 1991 when Minerva was 17, and when our story begins, she was already dealing with severe bouts of depression. Because she held herself to such a high standard and never let anyone in, Minerva would throw herself into her studies and not stop to eat or drink until she had finished. She had already finished her secondary schooling, and was taking classes at the local junior college. She was so brilliant, but so tall (she had reached her full height of five foot eight) and dreamy the other girls chased her and called her “Ghost Princess”. You would think that the depression would affect her more, but Minerva was a fighter in deed and spirit. She never bowed to her aunt’s discipline and she loved reading and studying languages, Greek in particular. She adored books, in particular Star Wars novels and the novels of Leo Tolstoy. To her, the people on the covers became her surrogate family. It was these fictional characters she would confide in, with all her hopes and fears. She would converse with them in Greek, she would joke and cry when her aunt’s abuses became too much for her to bear. She was nothing but resilient, and she needed to be. One dull, grey afternoon when Elena was out of town in London to drum up support to squash anti-Thatcher protesters in her districts, Minerva decided to walk downtown to go shopping at her favorite place in the entire world, “Around the Den” books. She would spend whole afternoons there, sitting in a cozy nook devouring some obscure novel relating to Greek philosophy or another wonder Star Wars novel form the 1970’s. The store’s owner did not mind the lanky teen sitting there, Minerva was a good, kind girl who always put whatever she pulled out back before she left, and when she did buy a book she always left a good review and made recommendations. This particular afternoon, Minerva was feeling lonelier than ever. Overhead, the BBC Radio 4 was playing the score from Swan Lake and the layered, tragic leitmotifs tugged at her heart. Out of all the talented young people in England, Minerva felt so different. She highly doubted if anyone else had to deal with people badgering her about her maps, or her Greek lessons, or why she was always talking to book covers. Surely, there had to be somebody out there in the vast multitude of galaxies who knew how lonely it was to be a virtual exile within the larger society. The store keeper had noticed Minerva’s funk and smiled, knowing how to cheer up the girl. “Good afternoon, Miss Hektor. Got a new shipment from America this morning, there’s a new Star Wars novel out.” She smiled, that would cheer her up. As it was, she was looking for something new to read. Minerva smiled, “Really- oh that’s right! The new Timothy Zahn novel- his other books were fun reads!” Eager to try something new, she darted up the carpeted stairs to the second level, and into a right labyrinth of mahogany shelving Minerva began wandering around. It was apparent that the shipment was new, she could smell packing peanuts and bits of cardboard lay on the floor. Outside, rain splattered onto the streets and Tchaikovsky’s score continued to play on. Looking on the second most top shelf to find out which novel was the new one, a soft, ghostly touch tenderly brushed her shoulder. “Eh, who’s there,” she called out behind her. There was nobody there, and she whacked her head on the bottom of the topmost shelf, when the sudden movement of her body caused a hardback novel to fall to the floor with a plop. Leaving the book on the floor, Minerva craned her head to see who had touched her, but there was nobody there. Wasn’t there? “Hello, is anyone here,” she called out. She had a taste for the whimsical and was sort of hoping to meet a ghost. She walked around the aisles, but to no avail. Disappointed, she made her way back to where she had been standing, and there on the floor was the new novel. The back cover was up, and she quickly read the synopsis before sitting down in an oversized leather chair to examine the cover. She glanced at Han and Leia, when someone caught her eye. It was an Imperial, but he was an alien. She felt her mouth draw into a smile, an alien Imperial- this was new. Holding up the cover to get a better look, the man’s red, glowing eyes somehow met hers and somehow a deep flush rushed to her cheeks. Indeed, when her eyes beheld his, something odd happened. He smiled kindly at her, and bowed. Minerva blushed harder, what was going on? Shaking her head, the gentle smile did not disappear for several seconds. She smiled, “I don’t believe we have been introduced yet. My name is Minerva Hektor, but you can call me Minerva, if you like.” Her alien gentleman’s brow furrowed slightly, did he not understand English? Of course he wouldn’t understand, he is an alien. I wonder if they speak Greek in the GFFA, she thought to herself. It was worth a try, and thankfully nobody was around to tease her. Placing the book on a shelf so it was about head height, she turned around and curtseyed, before introducing herself in Greek. “Chairetismoús, kýrie. Epitrépste mou na systithó. Eímai onomázetai Minerva Éktora, kai katágomai apó ti chóra tis Anglías kai tou planíti pou katoikoún se aftí eínai gností os gi. Eímai 17 etón kai eímai mapmaker. Boró na écho ti chará na gnorízei ti légetai?” (Greetings, sir. Allow me to introduce myself. I am called Minerva Hektor, and I hail from the country of England and the planet I reside on is known as Earth. I am all of 17 years old and I am a mapmaker. May I have the pleasure of knowing what you are called?) To her great delight (and surprise), a voice came from the book, at least she was sure it did. It sounded not at all like a recording or something on a CD or an album, rather it sounded as though he were only a few feet in front of her. “Ekplíssomai, tous néous Minerva. Sy Baustri sas eínai téleia, tha prépei na me synchorísete os Galactic Basic den eínai i próti mou glóssa. Eímai kálese Mitth'raw'nuruodo, allá boreíte na mou tilefonísei Thrawn, kathós aftó eínai to pós eímai gnostós edó sto galaxiakó pyrína.”(I am surprised, young Minerva. Your Sy Baustri is perfect, you must forgive me as Galactic Basic is not my first language. I am called Mitth'raw'nuruodo, but you can call me Thrawn, as that is how I am known here in the Galactic Core.) His voice had a RP accent to it, and it was warm but also cultured and cool. Minerva blushed even harder, was this even possible? She stumbled over his full name, but she eventually got it. He had laughed quietly and asked if she was always this clever and charming? Turning away shyly, she admitted she rarely got compliments. Thrawn found this surprising, why shouldn’t she, a bright, beautiful young woman. It was here that the storekeeper came upstairs and queried about Minerva’s find. Minerva said that everything was fine and it was really time for her to go home. Thrawn had returned back into the formal pose on the cover, to her disappointment. As she walked home, Minerva couldn’t help but smile. She could not wait to introduce Thrawn to her literary family.