Final Farewells

by Soledad

I dont own anything - if I did, Tosh would have had a better fate. But since everything belongs to RTD and the BBC, she ended up badly, the poor girl. So did the 9th Doctor, by the way. They both deserved better. No infringement intended and no money made.

Author's notes: This is a somewhat belated epilogue to the Yoshitsune arc of "Travellers' Tales".

Part One – Love

Few samurai had ever loomed so large in Japanese history and lore as Minamoto no Yoshitsune, the brilliant young warlord of the late Heian era and the unquestioned hero of the Genpei War, whose military genius won most of the major battles for his brother, the Kamakura shôgun. A doomed man, who was forced to take his own life, only four years after his spectacular victories, by the same ungrateful brother.

As one of the most popular tragic heroes, Yoshitsune's life and deeds had been immortalized in tales, folklore poems and plays – even in the diaries of contemporary nobles, friends and foes alike. Every child in Japan cold tell those tales for centuries to come; and even nine hundreds years after his death, his popularity remained unbroken and lived on in various branches of modern media.

But there had been a short period in his life that no-one knew about. A time, shortly after the victorious Battle of Dan-no-ura, when he'd met a strange man travelling through space and time, and a woman from nine hundred years in the future, with whom he had fallen in desperate love – and whom he'd had to let go again.

No-one had ever known that he'd travelled in that time ship for a while, had seen the terrible beauty of the stars, visited foreign worlds too alien to describe even in the finest of poetry – and then returned to his own time, knowing all too well that he would go to meet his untimely death. He had done so to make sure that the future would not be changed and the woman he had come to love more than life itself would be born.

He had never regretted his decision. He had done what he had to do, and was ready to end his life. He had already had done his duty towards his wife, Kimi, and their little daughter, killing them with his own hands, so that they would not fall into the hand of his enemies. He had already composed his death poem; all he needed to do now was to go the way of the warrior and take his life.

He had laid out his tantô, unsheathed it and was about to open his robes for completing the seppuku, when a strange, wheezing and groaning noise broke his concentration… a noise he had last heard four years ago. He could barely believe his ears… or his eyes, when a battered blue box, looking suspiciously like a garden shed, materialized in the middle of the castle chapel.

The door of the… the thing opened and out peered a tall man with short-cropped hair and pale blue eyes, wearing a very familiar-looking leather jacket.

"Seems safe enough," he announced, before vanishing in the inside of the box again. "We've come in time."

Through the open door a petite woman walked out, with shoulder-length hair and glasses before her eyes. She wore similar outlandish clothes and held a small bundle in her arm. Despite her changed appearance, Yoshitsune recognized her at once.

"Toshiko," he said in awe. "Have you come to say your farewells, after all?"

Upon their parting, she had made adamantly clear that she was not coming to witness his death. He wondered what had made her change her mind.

"No," she replied. "I've come to present you your son."

She walked over to him, sat next to him, cross-legged, and placed the small bundle on his knees. It was a child, probably two or three months old, and he looked up to his father with beetle-black eyes and a toothless smile.

"Our son," Yoshitsune whispered. "But how…? You told me you could not have any children at that time."

She shrugged. "That was what I thought. Apparently, I was mistaken. I wanted you to know, and the Doctor agreed to make a little detour between two cosmic phenomena to pay you a last visit."

Carefully balancing the child on his knees, Yoshitsune leaned in to kiss her. She kissed back with desperate need.

"I am eternally grateful that you have come," he said. "And I am even more grateful that I shall never be forced to do the same for you and for this child that I had to do for Kimi and our daughter," he gave her a searching look. "You know I'd have to kill them, didn't you?"

She nodded gravely. "Of course. The tales are full of detail about that particular tragedy."

"And yet you never told me…"

"What good would that have done either of us?" she asked with a shrug. "At least this way you had a little delight in your new wife and your daughter… as long as it lasted."

He sighed. "Perhaps you are right. I did like her well enough, and I loved our little girl. It is fortunate that my main wife and our eldest are protected by the imperial court and won't have to share my fate."

"I am so very sorry for what you had to do," she said gently.

"So am I," he answered slowly. "But it's still better than having them dragged before the feet of Yoritomo and executed publicly," for a moment, he listened to the noise coming from outside. "They are getting closer. You should go now."

"I will," she kissed him. "I still don't want to see you dead. You might be a legend in my time; but for me, you'll always be alive… just distant."

"What will become of our child?" he asked. "Will you take him to the future? To your time? Will he be safe there?"

She nodded. "He will grow up with my mother and grandfather; and Tomoe will stay with them to protect him."

"You think that would be wise?" Yoshitsune became concerned. "Tomoe has no love for me. I had my part in the death of Kiso, after all… and not a small one."

"Tomoe knows who ordered Kiso's death," she replied. "She finds it… satisfying to ensure that your line endures centuries beyond that of your brother. And she owes the Doctor a life debt."

"It is good then," he said, reassured. "One more thing before you leave; what is his name?"

"You are his father," she answered simply. "You name him."

Yoshitsune suddenly grinned, remembering their old argument about the importance of names and their meaning, and why one should never shorten someone else's name without their consent.

"I have it in my mind to name him Yoshi," he said.

"That's a good name," she agreed with a straight face. "With a noble meaning: justice, morality and honour. Worthy goals for the son of a warrior."

"They are indeed," he said, and they both laughed, albeit a little sadly, knowing that in the safe future Yoshi Satô would be spared the necessity to end his life the way his father would shortly be forced to do.

"Toshiko," the Doctor looked out of the TARDIS, "we must go. Benkei has fallen, and they'll be here any second now."

"Wait," Yoshitsune stopped her for a moment. "Before you leave, please accept my death poem."

She took the scroll offered to her and skimmed it briefly.

"This isn't a death poem," she said, her eyes brimming with tears. "This is a love poem."

Yoshitsune inclined his head in agreement. "So it is – is there truly a difference?"

"Not for us, I'm afraid," she admitted, the tears starting to roll down her face.

He kissed the child's brow and murmured the ritual words of acceptance, then handed him back to her. "Take him and leave me now," he said. "It is time for me to go."

She kissed him, took the poem and the child and hurried back to the TARDIS.

"I love you," she said before the doors closed behind her. "I always will."

The awesome time machine was still about to fully dematerialize when Yoshitsune set the tantô to perform the act expected from an honourable warrior.

~ End of Part One ~