Elsewhere
Tegan stands facing the cliff's edge, as she has done many times since the Master brought her to this place. There is a cottage behind her, whitewashed walls and thatched roof, cheerful red door and many windows, looking like something from her home planet, although they are many light years away from that place. The tropical ocean that surrounds the small island she is currently living on is blue, the sun is a familiar golden ball, there are birds very much like gulls that fly overhead and float on the waves, the sand is nearly white, as are the occasional clouds that float in the blue sky. The grass is green and neatly kept, the bushes trimmed and the small trees that dot the island remind her of palm trees although they are the one truly alien plant life she has seen; the fronds are a shade of lilac that took her weeks to give a name to, and the cocoanut-like fruits they bear are wrapped in shells of a deeper purple. They fall to the ground with a boom every few days; the sound no longer startles her.
The house is located at the top of a winding path, backed by the cliff and fronted by a long slope down to the main part of the island. There is a path next to a small freshwater stream, leading to a small village at the base of the hill. It winds its way down, gradually disappearing into a thicket of the palms and other trees, only to reappear after about a brisk five minute walk onto the flats where the natives have their farming lands. The path is well-kept, but no one ever uses it except herself and the woman assigned to help her. The woman's name is unknown to Tegan; she is unable to understand their language, and apparently they have been warned or threatened by the Master not to speak to her, so she can't even try the "Me Tarzan, You Jane" approach to linguistic analysis.
They are human, or human-like, somewhat Polynesian and somewhat Asiatic in looks, with uniformly smooth brown skin and deep black hair worn by both men and women in waist-length plaits. Their eyes vary in color from blue to green, not at all what she subconsciously expected, and stand out beautifully against their skin. Tegan has spent a great deal of time studying them, trying to make friends while knowing the Master makes that impossible; whatever hold he has over them is absolute. They feed her and clothe her and help her maintain her simple cottage, but that is all.
John is nearly five months old now, and it has been six weeks since Tegan has been allowed to hold him. Her milk dried up after the first two weeks, and she wept for hours when she realized what had happened. He is living with a family in the village, and appears healthy the few times she has been able to see him. She is allowed to wander the island as she wills, even to enter the village, but the house in which he is being kept is off limits to her. A guard stands by the door, but he looks apologetic every time he is forced to bar Tegan's way. For a few days the mother made sure the baby was in the yard with her other small children whenever Tegan approached, but then the Master appeared in the village once at the same time as Tegan, spoke sharply to both the woman and the guard in their own language, then physically dragged Tegan away.
That was two weeks ago. The days in this place seem about the same length as an Earth day, the temperature balmy even at night but never uncomfortably hot. Tegan wishes sometimes it was less hospitable, but knows that would do nothing to lessen the ache in her heart from missing her son, her friends, the home she's begun to make for herself on Terminus.
Instead, she must deal with the Master. She no longer begs him to allow her to have her son back; she is merely thankful that he has shown no signs of interest in the boy himself, other than ensuring that the family he has assigned to watch him keeps him healthy.
Unfortunately, the Master has decided to show signs of interest in her. She is staring at the ocean from the cliff side, not because the view brings her a measure of peace or to pass the time, but because it is the direction from which the Master always arrives. He comes at irregular intervals, and uses a boat that hovers above the water and appears to Tegan's eyes to be far beyond the technology of this place, where she lives without electricity or running water or the thousand other conveniences of civilization. But the natives do not seem startled by it, so she concludes that the lack of technology may be a choice these people have made. Pondering this keeps her mind occupied, helps to tamp down the anxiety she feels while she scans the waves.
Whenever the Master arrives, he follows a pattern, but not one that Tegan has ever managed to find a way to take advantage of. He enters the village, looks in on John, who is presented to him for inspection as if he were a sack of the taro-like roots the natives harvest as their main food crop. The Master indicates his satisfaction or dissatisfaction, then disappears into the cottage belonging to the man Tegan has mentally designated at the Village Headman. Sometimes they are in there for hours, sometimes only a few minutes, but the Master always takes the path up the hill as soon as he is finished, and the woman who stays with Tegan immediately leaves, returning to visit her own friends and family until the Master once again enters his boat. The boat is heavily guarded, of course, and the one time she approached it the guards offered her looks that were far from apologetic and fingered their weapons in a manner that caused her to immediately back off.
The length of his stay varies, but is never less than an hour. The longest he has remained has been overnight, but he has never stayed past the following morning. It is those visits that Tegan dreads the most.
His TARDIS placed him into a new body, so he is no longer the same man who fathered her son on her unwilling body, no longer Nyssa's father in appearance and genetics. He does not appear to be one of the natives of this world, or at least not of this section of it. He is taller than his former self, leaner, perhaps even handsomer, although Tegan knows she can never think of him that way, with fair skin and eyes a lighter shade. She isn't sure of their exact color because she refuses to examine him that closely. He has no beard, his hair is a lighter shade and worn longer than before. But the personality is the same, at least as far as she can tell, the sarcasm, the sadism.
He is still evil.
He is still forcing her into his bed every time he visits. He laughingly refers to them as conjugal visits and refuses to tell her why he is continuing this unwelcome physical relationship, one that she had believed he initiated on his TARDIS only to impregnate her. She supposes it is to humiliate her, which he is quite successful at, but she senses there is something more to it.
Something she does not want to understand.
It has to do with that time he held her prisoner on his TARDIS, the time she won't let herself remember in any detail. Relating his first attack (the only attack, she stubbornly tells herself) on her to the Doctor's companion, Ace, had been more than enough. The nightmares she still experienced were just as bad, but thankfully left no details in her waking mind.
She is growing used to his presence, to this life he has forced on her, and although she aches with missing her child, she finds herself settling into a routine, almost accepting of everything that happens to her. Including the Master's visits.
And that shames her even more.