From the very moment he first saw her, he was enamored. The tiny little thing in his arms, barely a child yet, was being cradled and rocked, very very gently, quietly cooing and twitching her little arms and legs.
He didn't know what to make of the little one. He hadn't seen a child this young before. None of them had.
Natural birth was a practice that had fallen out of favor eons ago, with the advent of the looms after the Curse of the Pythia. That, and being able to have a child whenever you wished, without the pains of having to wait the full gestation period, in addition to being able to control every detail of the child's appearance, made natural birth, at best, a redundancy.
A redundancy many in the High Council seemed determined to eliminate all knowledge of.
The child's poor mother had been poisoned, no doubt an attempt by the Council to hide the truth that the looms were obsolete, gallifreyan bodies having had ample time to overcome the curse.
The birth of a naturally concieved child, after being told time and time again that such a thing was permamently impossible, would cast doubt on everything the Council had said. And they couldn't have that, oh no.
But the matters of politically-charged dunderheads didn't concern him right now. No, the only thing of consequence at the moment was the child in his arms.
...He really needed to find something else to call her. "The Child" just wouldn't do, not unless she was one of those renegades he kept incessantly hearing about.
As he thought, lost in the depths of his own mind, he couldn't help but be dragged back to remembering the circumstances during her birth, which then led to an interesting tangent, before finally ending at a childhood memory.
When he and Koschei were still boys, they had gone on an exploration of the caves underneath the the Citadel. As they wandered through the damp and dank labryinth, they came across a single flower, growing out of the dirt. A rose, to be precise. At that point in his life, it was the most bewildering, and yet the most wonderful sight he'd ever seen.
Life where there shouldn't have been any. And in that moment, he had decided
"Arkyitor... you shall be called Arkyitor."