The man lingered by the bedside. He should never have come. Time was running out for him. He turned away.
"Doctor, you didn't come through the fireplace, and too late to take me to my favorite star."
"Reinette," he breathed. "No. I came by another route this time. But I will walk through that fireplace again. A younger me."
She chuckled. "Will you light the candle? The same way as when I was a child?"
The Doctor smiled faintly and pointed his sonic screwdriver at her bedside candle. The small flame flickered to life, shedding faint light on the tragic tableau.
She looked up at the Doctor with her bright eyes, though faded like the rest of her. "Ah," she murmured in surprise and pleasure. "You finally show the passage of time. I suppose I do not need this letter any longer. Burn it please?"
"No, Reinette. Younger me will need it."
"So I am the second woman you haven't entirely met in order."
He smiled weakly. "And I met my third recently."
"And you lost her."
"I lost her and yet I'll see her again."
"Oh my lonely little boy." She sighed, heavy with the weight of years and illness. A silence fell, as he pondered apologies he didn't know how to make and she mulled over memories not her own. When she spoke, it was with a sedate voice. "At least we got to see each other before we die."
The Doctor started.
"Don't act so surprised, Fireplace Man. You have the same look in your eyes that I did when I last saw a looking glass. Though, I do believe you are worse off than I. You are trying to hold back death."
"Don't steal my lines."
She chuckled weakly. "Go to your death. Dance a new dance."
His faint smile grew slightly. "Sleep, Reinette. There is a morning that longs to greet you. And I will see you again, and then I will get your letter."
"So poetic in your age, Doctor. I think I shall keep this version of you to myself. The King of France need not know the Lord of Time has improved."
"But I thought I must go to my death."
Her eyes dove into him. "Doctor. You know that is not what I meant and you know that you must let go. Say your final goodbyes and find peace. I have."
"I will obey, but not until I fulfill my promise."
Gently, the Doctor touched her forehead. Before her eyes spun visions of far-off stars and the fire of galaxies he could not take her to see.
His touch coaxed her to sleep, but left her mind filled with all his memories of seeing foreign skies and stars. "Dream, Reinette. And I am sorry. I am so sorry. I could not take you to the skies. But I hope bringing them to you was enough."
And with that, the Doctor blew out the candle, engulfing with darkness the sleeping Madame du Pompadour.