Coming of Age
I do not own Doctor Who.
The Castellan was a rigidly thorough man. As unbending as the very spires of the Capitol itself. He believed in duty and responsibility beyond anything else; even personal feeling. The centuries he had lived had only honed this self control in service to his planet, and its people, shaped and refined the arrogance which accompanied it, as was carried by all Time Lords. Even the Doctor was not immune, renegade and hermit that he was. Self-control and repression was the building blocks of any Time Lord.
So when the Doctor was escorted in with his young companion, the slight surge of physical reaction; the release of hormones into his bloodstream, was easily ignored as the Castellan turned with the other Councillors to greet the infamous Time Lord.
"Councillors, my companion, Nyssa of Traken," the Doctor's youthful baritone punctured the tense silence of the High Council. Nyssa could feel it, could feel the air like a thick sludge, their words cutting through it. There was something wrong, she could sense it. Her intelligent eyes keenly surveyed the other figures in the room, eager to see more Time Lords. The only ones she had met were the Doctor and the Master. So, with scientific interest, she looked the Councillors over.
Councillor Hedin was friendly enough, an innocently father-like figure in fiery orange robes. The only woman in the room was beautiful, but seemed to be carved from stone, like a statue from her home planet, the artificial lights of the room gilding her fair hair, glimmering off a complicated series of pendants hanging from her neck, the long, voluminous gown covering every inch of skin bar that needed to showcase the necklace. A noblewoman, she guessed, and one of great power from the way she bore herself.
"You are welcome to Gallifrey, Nyssa." Lady Thalia smiled and inclined her head gracefully, a slight smile on her noble face. Nyssa inclined her head, grateful for all the training that allowed her to maintain her composure in this room of intimidating people.
"Thank you." Nyssa replied calmly, her eyes travelling on to the only other two men in the room. The one standing directly behind Lady Thalia was a non-entity, unthreatening and almost non-existent, in robes of deep crimson and purple, his winged headdress seeming to swamp him, when compared with the Time Lord standing behind him.
This one, Nyssa assumed with a shiver, was not one to cross.
"Well, Doctor, unpleasant business this. I'm sure you understand why the Lord President was forced to recall you," the first Time Lord spoke up, but Nyssa could not tear her eyes away from his neighbour.
This Time Lord was dressed, as the others, in flowing robes, this time of brown and gold, a gold cap covering his skull, his muscular hands clasped in front of him. His entire body language clearly spoke to her of reined power and strength, of an iron-clad will and determination, as inexorable as stone. But even stone can be eroded, she thought absentmindedly, as her eyes met his.
Cold, fiercely intelligent grey eyes captured hers in detached speculation, and she raised her chin slightly, refusing to be intimidated. She may not be a Time Lord, but she was a noblewoman, and one that would not bow her will to others readily.
The Castellan coldly watched the Doctor's companion as she studied him appraisingly, quickly moving from Zorac to himself. He turned his interest to her, studying her in equal measure.
He saw a girl on the very verge of womanhood, as graceful and proud as any Time Lady, her back straight and unbending. No doubt her will was the same. Feeling his gaze upon her, he noticed the slight change in her body language, which indicated so clearly that she refused to be intimidated. He covertly studied her with greater interest, feeling that same physical reaction as when she first entered the room, instantly quashed.
Soft brown curls framed a youthful, angular face; pale skin showcasing the aristocratic lines of her bone structure. Deeply intelligent brown eyes framed by dark lashes and finely arched eyebrows returned his gaze candidly. He noted her bearing, the ethereal deportment and the graceful, precise movements that indicated her aristocratic background. A slender figure encased in brown velvet, puffed sleeves hiding her limbs, which he suspected were as slender as the rest of her. She was shorter than her guardian, her head just reaching his shoulder, and the Castellan could see the protectiveness of a father in the way the Doctor had placed an arm around her shoulders; shielding her from them. The Doctor's slightly pointed comment drew him from his ruminations, as he turned his attention to the renegade Time Lord.
"Given the chance, I would have returned willingly," he said softly, stepping between Hedin and Thalia, effectively hiding Nyssa behind himself and his ally on the Council. A sign that he did not trust the Time Lords. Nyssa saw it, as well as the Councillors, as she moved with the Doctor. Their discussion in the safety compound, and in the Tardis before Maxil had escorted them here, came back to her. Would the Time Lords truly take the Doctor's life to stop the creature?
"You've never proved as cooperative in the past," the Castellan's single comment rang throughout the chamber, the dominant factor.
"You remember that you were asked to return Romana and you failed to do so," Thalia's pointed rebuke emphasised her position as at least the dominant female in the room, to Nyssa's scientific eye.
"Romana chose to stay in E-Space." The Doctor's retort, slightly weary as if he'd explained it a thousand times already, had Nyssa mentally smiling.
"That's all past history," Hedin swiftly cut off all argument, with a brusque tone. He may not have been as overtly dominant as the Castellan in his body language and tone, or as subtly powerful as Lady Thalia, but power and wisdom rang in his wizened tones. It was clear that even the Doctor respected his authority, when he turned to him with a nod of the head, acceding to his wishes.
"Yes. Well now that I'm here, Thalia, have you given any thought to what's happened?" the Doctor turned back to Thalia, his hands clasped behind his back. Nyssa remained silent, watching and learning.
"There hasn't been much time, Doctor," was the vague answer.
"Well, has anyone checked to see if my biodata extracts have been removed from the Matrix, Castellan?" the Doctor turned to the brown robed Time Lord questioningly, another kind of authority and dominance in his mien and demeanour.
"What are you suggesting, Doctor?" the Castellan asked, a slight accusatory sting to his voice.
"I would've thought that was obvious," the Doctor's tone turned derisive, "None of this could've happened unless the creature had that information."
"I should've thought the most important thing….." the Castellan's argument was cut off by Zorac's frantic whisper.
"Councillors, the Lord President."
Nyssa turned with the Doctor, to see the Lord President of the Time Lords sweep into the chamber, clad in silver and gold, kindly yet sharp old eyes fixing the Doctor with an almost fatherly look.
"You, too, have regenerated," he remarked, his hands clasped in front of him. Nyssa regarded him interestedly, tearing her eyes away from the animosity between the Doctor and the Castellan.
"Indeed, President Borusa." The Doctor replied, his head inclined respectfully. It was the first time Nyssa had seen the Doctor show deference to anyone. The President turned to her, with a friendly smile.
"And Nyssa of Traken, isn't it?"
She nodded, smiling slightly, trying to ignore the undercurrents of tension she could feel pervading the room.
"Sorry to have kept you waiting," he turned to the High Council, standing like unwanted spectators, "Please be seated, Councillors."
Nyssa felt herself speared by another glance from the Castellan, and realised he could not be classified as an unwanted spectator. He stood at the left-hand of one of the most powerful beings in the Universe, his own power and dominance radiating from every pore. She didn't look away, trapped in his gaze, until he broke the contact. She suppressed an odd shiver, feeling as though he had pierced into the very centre of her soul.
"This session of the High Council of Time Lords in now in progress."
The Doctor sent her an inscrutable look, one she returned. She had did not have a good feeling about this.
Hours later it seemed, Nyssa stood beside the Doctor, hands clasped behind her back, feeling a mounting sense of anger, one she kept rigidly controlled. Even when the Doctor spoke up, revealing the existence of a conspiracy on Gallifrey, the Council ignored it, callously denying its possibility. Or rather the Castellan did. As the Doctor tried to fight for his life, and for the time to investigate the situation, Nyssa felt only a mounting sense of dread. A dread that was confirmed when the Lord President refused the Doctor's request.
"Commander!"
Nyssa spun, as the tall, powerfully built Gallifreyan re-entered the room, clad in the red and white of the Guards.
The President spoke again, this time in a tone of remorse and pity.
"You know that capital punishment has long been abolished here on Gallifrey, but there is precedent for a situation like this. Have you nothing further to say, Doctor?"
"I have a great deal to say!" the Doctor began, his tone low and stormy. It was a tone she had heard him use a thousand times when confronting an enemy. She felt her own anger and disbelief burst its bonds, as she stepped beside her friend, tilting her chin proudly.
"You can't do this! You must destroy the creature." Nyssa exploded. Here in the citadel of the oldest civilisation in the Universe, she never thought to see such barbarity.
"Child, do you think we have not considered this? The creature is shielded. We have no way of tracing it!" the President stood, agitated.
"So you're prepared to kill the Doctor?" Nyssa argued back. Could they not see that they would only be lowering themselves to the same level as the evil that had tried to take the Doctor?
"Commander!" the President ignored her impassioned outburst. "Remove the Doctor to the security compound. As soon as the warrant is issued, you will convey him to a place of termination."
Two guards came and began to drag the Doctor away.
"I'm sorry, Doctor," the President's tone was remorseful now. Tears sprung to Nyssa's eyes.
"No! You can't!" she cried, stepping forward.
"Executing me will not alter the fact there's a traitor at work on Gallifrey!" the Doctor's last words before he was dragged away reverberated in her head, as the doors closed, and Nyssa turned to fight for her friend's life.
The Castellan watched as the Trakenite took a deep breath, visibly steeling herself to confront them. When she spoke, it was in a voice filled with dignity and respect.
"Time Lords, I beg of you, think what you're doing."
Nyssa looked desperately for some sign of sympathy or compassion in the stone faces around her. Thalia's face was pitying, Hedin's weary and sympathetic, Zorac's troubled, whilst the Castellan appeared impassive.
"The creature knew the Tardis' location, time-zone coordinates, bioscan. That information could only have come from here, from Gallifrey."
"Only the High Council of Time Lords can extract such data from the Matrix," the Castellan's voice cut across her plea, as Nyssa turned to him, tears in her eyes. The Castellan felt something he never thought he would ever feel: pity. But he coldly continued to slay her accusation. "You, too, accuse us of treason."
"Can you deny the possibility?" Nyssa fired back, refusing to back down. The Castellan's gaze did not waver from hers, eliciting that odd shiver again. She ignored it, turned to the other Time Lords, turning her back on the Castellan. He was quietly impressed by her tenacity and her passion, in the cause of saving a friend's life, but he would not be swayed, as he knew the President would not be. The decision was all but made, officially. "At least, give the Doctor time."
"There is no time." Borusa stopped her, shaking his head impatiently. "Nor can proof of what you say change things. We must prevent the full bonding."
"But the Doctor is innocent!" Nyssa advanced on the Lord President, her youthful face radiant with passion and fire, her eyes twinkling with determination and desperation. The Castellan felt that same odd physical reaction, but he shook himself. He had to remain focussed.
Thalia joined the debate now. "What would you have us do? Spare the Doctor and condemn untold billions to destruction? That is the choice we face here."
Nyssa had to admit it was not an easy one, and she knew what the Doctor would say. But, as her friend Tegan had once said, she didn't have to like it. It was still wrong. Desperate, she turned to the wall, fighting for some new route, some way to save the Doctor. Borusa interrupted her thoughts, a sad, gentle smile on his face.
"We have listened to what you say but the decision must stand."
"Lord President, in view of what she says, couldn't we at least delay carrying out the judgement?" Hedin asked from his seat. Thalia cut him off curtly.
"We can't risk it, Hedin."
"We're sorry, child, but truly there's no other choice." Zorac backed his fellow Councillor up, sending Nyssa a sympathetic glance. Nyssa, feeling her temper take flight, a vise constricting around her lungs, had only enough breath to spit vehemently, "So much for your justice!"
She turned on her heel and marched from the room. Five pairs of eyes watched her go, four with sympathy and cool pity, one with speculative interest in his eyes.
Outside, Nyssa breathed deeply. Now what was she to do? She had to save the Doctor.
Only minutes later it seemed to Nyssa, that she stood in the hall of termination, watching as her friend the Doctor was executed. Her plan had failed. She was forced to watch as he faded from sight, his image overlaid by a negative of some strange creature, the replica of the one that had tried to bond with him in the Tardis, her heart heaving with pain.
Her best friend, her father, her teacher. She had lost so much, and now this seemed the final straw.
She fought not to give into grief, her shoulders shaking, tears escaping, trickling down her face, leaving glistening paths behind them.
"I hope you know what you've done!" was all she could bring herself to say, disgust and grief fighting for dominance in her voice. It took all her years of training to suppress the grief long enough to turn and flee from the room, before she broke down before the High Council. Despite everything, despite the evidence of the Doctor's betrayal, they still executed him. And what was worse, the Doctor had let them. He, himself, had willingly stepped into the machine that had destroyed him. As she fled from the room, it was not only the Lord President's eyes that followed her with pity.
The Castellan and Maxil walked shoulder to shoulder from the hall of termination. The termination was not what he had expected, not at all. The Castellan's instincts were telling him something was wrong. The girl, Nyssa, was also a problem. The President had promised the Doctor her life, but she needed to be controlled. She was a loose cannon, one that could easily go off at any moment. Eventually he turned to his Commander.
"What was your opinion, Maxil?"
"For termination? Not quite what I expected," the Commander replied succinctly, his cold eyes trained on his superior's face.
"Nor me. I want a full analysis of the event. Be discreet, but do it right away. What do you think of the girl, Nyssa of Traken?" the Castellan asked, his brow furrowed. Maxil shrugged.
"A potential danger; one that will have to be controlled, one way or the other," he replied coolly, before he stood to attention and marched away smartly. Nodding to himself, the Castellan turned towards the High Council Rooms.
Nyssa ran, unimpeded, through the Citadel, tears blurring her vision. She couldn't go back to the Tardis, where Damon awaited her, nor did she have anywhere else to go. She ignored the scandalised glares of the Time Lords lounging in the residential areas, feeling a bubble of hatred towards them. Here they sat, so complacent and carefree, whilst murder was committed by their so-called leaders. She wanted nothing more than to escape. But she had nowhere to escape to. Her home was gone, the Doctor was gone; she had….nothing.
Finally she reached a deserted corridor, one she didn't recognise, and slowed her pace. The marble glinted darkly, reflecting her image in amorphous, dream-like shapes as she walked to a single window, that looked out over the Citadel. She perched on the sill, and leaned her head against the cool glass.
Below, the Citadel of the Time Lords unravelled like a lush gem before her, spires of crystal and snow white glinting in the light of three suns, setting the towers afire with their brilliance. Not far the from the energy field that held the city enclosed, she could see the stark wall of the mountains, stretching on endlessly, its ridges and peaks capped with diamond snow, glittering like a star-encrusted necklaces amongst the dark stone. Nyssa felt herself entranced by the sight, forgetting her grief for a moment, the tears still running unchecked down her face. Her heart felt shrivelled to ashes; she had nothing left. She heard the tramp of the Guards' boots on the marble behind her, she didn't care.
How long she had sat there, she didn't know. It could have been millennia to her. She was aware of a someone, a man, stepping forward, a familiar sensation rippling down her spine.
"Girl, you will come with me," the Castellan's voice rang out, harsh in the deserted hallway, as Nyssa slowly turned to meet the Castellan's cool gaze. She couldn't summon up the will to be defiant, nor to rile at his superior tone. The only thing she could do was something her old friend, Tegan, used to do.
"The name is Nyssa," she informed him quietly, refusing to look at him, as she stepped proudly out, as a queen, her regal bearing unaffected by the events of the day.
"Then come…Nyssa," he replied, gesturing for her to precede him, flanked by two guards in red and white. "The Lord President wishes to discuss your future."
Nyssa felt the Castellan fall into step beside her, a single hand on her back, guiding her through the hallways of the Citadel. She was too tired to care.
They finally stopped before a familiar set of doors, and Nyssa felt an inexplicable surge of dread, as they swung open. For the first time, she met the Castellan's eyes, and took a deep breath before she stepped over the threshold. His hand still on her back, firmly escorting her.