Warnings: Introspection, Character Study
A/N: Written for who_contest's Prompt: Picture Challenge comprised of overly thinky ramblings, too much speculation and a rusty Muse. Wandery-blithery within (youse has been warned), as per usual: maybe tad more wandery and blithery than what I generally aim for though. Sorry about that - Muse has been twitchy of late. Unfortunately that just might show (eep). As always, mostly unbeta'd and written in one go, so please forgive any mistakes and/or blatant vagueness. I apologize for any repetition, misspellings, sentence fails, grammatical oh-noes and general horridness. Unbeta'd fic is overly-thinky/blithery and unbeta'd.
Disclaimer(s): I do not own the scrumptious Doctor or his lovely companions. That honor goes to the BBC and (for now) the fantastic S. Moffat. The only thing that belongs to me is this fiction - and I am making no profit. Only playing about!
"Poems and songs have been written about views like this," he announced grandly, tweaking his bowtie in satisfaction. "Ballads and odes and – well…not in your era, certainly. Views like this come on the telly during bad scifi programming. But in a few hundred years?"
He trailed off, watching the ethereal shimmer of light as it washed over the edges of the planet – the warning hum of his Old Girl the only thing keeping him from tipping excitedly out into the black. The planet dozed on below, the warming shine of the third sun of Romuli barely bleeding over the first continent, the world turning in slow rotation – caught between day and night.
Blink of an eye. All of it.
It was a moment like this that kept him hanging onto sanity when he had lost his world, his people. It was a moment like this (well…close enough), that made him remember the dazzle and wonder of a Companion by his side. He lived for moments like this, for the touch of a new beginning rising above the old and tired – making it all fresh again.
"In a few hundred years, your current ballads, poems, eddas and odes to the dawn will be of the past. You will find new dawns, new ways of seeing the light of the universe. Not inward looking out, like so many of you do now – but outward looking in. And that right there? That is magic. When you see with new eyes the untold wonders of the cosmos. When you see the vastness of it all and yet, you can still see the light just over the edge of the horizon. It may not be your own, but that moment - that moment - is yours. Do you see?"
There was no one to see. There was no one beside him. But he could almost feel them. And if he turned his head just right, if he concentrated really hard –
He still lived for moments like this. Maybe (just maybe), they could still hear him, feel him beside them. Maybe they all did.
There were always new people. New planets. New ideas and adventures and worlds to explore. Maybe he would share all of these things again. Maybe he was sharing them right now, somewhere beyond the light of this middle-aged star. Anything was possible. And the ending of one thing always meant a new beginning of something else.
He had almost forgotten that. Almost. He was starting to remember. It was almost like discovering something new all over again. It was exactly like finding sudden light in the darkness.
Dawn broke.
The doors closed.
A new day had begun.