Author's Note:
Big hi to all my wonderful reviewers: - KlinicallyInsaneKoschei, soro1010, babybluepineapple, Strange and Sad Angel, Omniac, Aietradaea, and XxCoffee-and-CreamxX – you guys are all totally amazing!
Sorry this chapter is so long, but couldn't be helped :( !
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Curiously unsettled, the Doctor gazed around at the great stone hall surrounding him. It was strange, it all seemed so...familiar. Something in the beautifully carved walls and the high, arched ceilings spoke to him, sang to him like a half-forgotten memory. Suddenly, with a painful twisting in his guts, he knew that this place was not human in design at all. It was Gallifreyan, the marble floor, the intricately-patterned buttresses and coigns poignantly reminiscent of the archaic vaults that had once existed beneath the Citadel of the Time Lords, both containing and concealing the mysteries of the Eye of Harmony.
They were still on Earth, he could feel it. But that was impossible. There was no way Rassilon could have done all this in the three short months since his resurrection. And this place was very, very old, just as the halls he remembered on Gallifrey had been beyond ancient when history itself was young.
"I like what you've done with the place, Lord President..." he began, trying to hide his turmoil behind his usual flippant front. "It's very...you. But, the Hall of the Mountain King? That's a bit pretentious, even for you. Where exactly are we?"
"As impudent as ever, I see, my Lord Doctor," Rassilon said sternly. "To the humans, this place is known as the Isle of Avalon. A place of legend, a land caught between time and space, forever hidden from the sun, the place where the souls of the dead are reborn."
The Doctor stared at him incredulously. "The Isle of Avalon? As in, the place where King Arthur sailed after he was mortally wounded in his final battle? The place where he supposedly waits to rise again as Britain's King in her hour of need? Because, I have to say, if Arthur's around here somewhere, I've got a few words to say to him about his definition of 'hour of need' – I'm getting a bit sick of filling in for him, as it happens!"
"Many legends have existed about this place throughout the history of mankind, none of them even approaching the truth," Rassilon replied dismissively. "The Isle of Avalon is as old as the Earth itself."
"And what is the truth? What's so special about this place? And what does it have to do with Gallifrey?" the Doctor demanded.
"Can you not feel it, Doctor? Listen to your hearts – does this place not both attract you and repel you at the same time?" Rassilon said in cold amusement. "Have you never wondered why it is that you are so drawn to this pitiful, insignificant planet? Have you never considered why it so often stands at the heart of coincidence? Did it never occur to you to question why so many of the time-sensitive races have felt compelled to invade it, time and time again – Daleks, Cybermen, Eternals, Sontarans...the list goes on and on."
The Doctor shuddered despite himself. Rassilon was right, there was...something...here, in this place. Something as necessary to life as his own double heartbeat and yet, at the same time, something that was so anathematic to his basic nature that it sickened him.
"What are you talking about? What is it?"
"The centre of the Web of Time, Doctor," Rassilon answered complacently. "The Temporal Nucleus itself. Created by the original council of Time Lords at the dawn of time, it was hidden here on this obscure planet for safe-keeping, swathed in the concealing mists of Avalon, to sleep safely for all eternity, forever anchoring the threads of Time."
The Doctor's chest suddenly hurt as though all his ribs were broken, sharp stabs of horror wrenching through him. Suddenly he understood why this place felt so wrong and yet so right. As a child of time, existing eternally in a state of flux, the unchanging solidity of the Temporal Nucleus could not help but be an abomination to him. And yet, without it, neither he nor the rest of creation could continue to be. It was the ultimate paradox, the lodestone of time, the hitching point of chronology, the very centre of all life.
"The Temporal Nucleus is here?" he gasped. "On Earth?"
"Yes. This was one of Gallifrey's most closely guarded secrets throughout a billion years of history, for without the Temporal Nucleus, Time itself cannot stand," Rassilon said. "Until the chaos of the Last Great Time War, the Isle of Avalon was always guarded by a few select Time Lords appointed to maintain this sacred trust, to prevent the Nucleus ever falling into the wrong hands. As human-kind slowly dragged itself from the primordial swamps, the presence of our people occasioned many mystical legends – King Arthur, Merlin the sorcerer, the druids of Avalon, faeries, goblins and more."
"And now?" the Doctor rasped. "What now, Rassilon?"
Rassilon smiled. "It's time for the Nucleus to awaken from its long sleep, my lord Doctor. It's time for the Mountain King to call his children home."
"Still nothing!" the Master said disgustedly, giving the Rhondium Sensor an impatient whack with the side of his fist. "It just keeps giving impossible readings. Wherever Rassilon is, it doesn't exist in the time/space continuum. And if he's not in the time/space continuum, we won't be able to track him with this."
Tejana sighed anxiously. Things just weren't getting any better. Jack and Martha had taken Amy to the Autopsy Room and were busy tending to her wounds. Tejana and the Master were trying to work out their next move. With the Doctor gone, things had just escalated from serious to critical.
"We're running out of time!" she said urgently. "If Rassilon manages to break the Time Lock..."
The Master gave a grim smile. "I never could resist a ticking clock," he said wryly.
Tejana caught her breath, vividly remembering him saying that once before, years ago. A sudden, powerful flashback to the flight deck of The Valiant took her by surprise:
The clock on the wall ticked loudly in the silent room. It was five minutes to three. Guards in black uniforms stood at regular intervals around the flight deck of the mighty ship, automatic weapons held at the ready.
Francine Jones and her daughter Tish, both dressed in demeaning French maid uniforms, made themselves busy cleaning – it didn't do to appear idle in the Master's domain.
Lucy Saxon, the Master's human and much-abused wife, lounged in a chair staring out a window at the beautifully-massed banks of white cloud, a fresh bruise livid on her face. She was dressed in a ridiculously revealing red satin evening gown, her Lord and Master's preference, and her expression was completely blank.
The Doctor, crippled with age by the Master's use of the Lazarus technology, squatted in the rough tent which had been hastily erected for him, like a dog in a kennel, which was exactly how the Master intended him to feel.
Tejana sat at the conference table, her manacled hands placed carefully before her. The harsh metal had roughly abraded the delicate skin around her wrists and blood was beginning to seep slowly under the wide cuffs. She made no sign. She would ask the Master for nothing.
Surreptitiously, she slanted a glance at Francine Jones, who returned an imperceptible nod. They were ready.
Suddenly the silence was shattered as the Master arrived, a whirlwind of energy as usual.
"Ah, time for my massage," he said cheerfully. "Tejana, if you wouldn't mind..."
Tejana stood obediently and the Master smiled in satisfaction. Lucy, who had leapt to her feet as soon as he entered the room, took one tiny, protesting step forward and then stopped, silently wringing her hands.
"Keys!" the Master ordered, and Tejana's personal guard handed him the keys to her manacles. His eyes glittering with ill-concealed malice, he unlocked the handcuffs himself. It was so easy to press their buttons, little acts of mental torture, wearing them down day by day. Forcing Tejana to give him a massage like a menial was a marvellous way to teach the proud Time Lady her new place as his slave. It also had the added benefit of further humiliating her father, the Doctor, as well as trampling on the remains of Lucy Saxon's broken heart – all of it such fun to do.
As the manacles fell away, Tejana's ravaged wrists came into view. The Master "tsk-ed" impatiently.
"We'll have to do something about that. Can't have my favourite masseuse out of action. Have I told you how wonderful Tejana's hands feel, Lucy? Maybe you two should get to know each other better. That might be fun!"
With that, he cast his jacket on to the table and plonked himself into a chair.
"Now, massage!" he commanded.
Tejana heard the satisfying clunk in the top pocket of the jacket as it struck the table and glanced at the clock. One minute to three. Smiling secretly, she raised her hands to his shoulders and began to knead them, feeling the strong muscles begin to relax under her deft touch. The Master sighed in contentment, his eyes closed.
And then chaos broke loose. A series of huge explosions in the bowels of the ship sent sparks arcing across the control console. Alarms wailed crazily and smoke drifted across the room as electronics shorted out with a deafening bang.
"CONDITION RED! REPEAT: CONDITION RED!" an automated voice intoned.
"What the hell!" the Master exclaimed angrily. Leaping to his feet, he charged across to the stairs leading to the control console and ran up them, trying to ascertain the problem. Tejana was right behind him, exploding into action like a coiled spring, skidding to a halt at the base of the stairs, poised in readiness. At that same moment, Francine seized the Master's jacket and hurled it across the table to Tish, who caught it perfectly and flung it to Tejana in one smooth motion.
Sensing the movement behind him, the Master whirled around – but it was too late. Tejana had freed the deadly laser screwdriver from his coat pocket and was holding it trained on him, her eyes narrow with purpose.
"Ohhhh, I see," the Master nodded, putting his hands up in surrender.
"I will kill you," Tejana said steadily.
"NO!" the Doctor shouted. They had not included the wizened old man in their big plan, because Tejana had known exactly what he would say. "Tejana, listen to me! Don't do it! You mustn't do it!"
The Master smiled mockingly. "All these years and he could never do it," he chuckled. Then his smile was gone and he dropped his hands.
"I am not the Doctor," Tejana warned coldly. "And I will do it!"
She aimed at the Master, who was now coming down the stairs towards her.
"NO!" the Doctor howled. But Tejana pressed the trigger anyway, waiting for the bright beam to erupt and end the nightmare for them all. To her complete horror, nothing happened. The Master laughed wildly and she felt his strong hands closing on her injured wrists, forcing them back. With a scream of pain, she released the screwdriver into his waiting grasp. He struck her violently across the face and hurled her into the floor with a resounding concussion. For a moment she nearly passed out, stars spinning crazily behind her eyes.
"Tejana!" the Doctor cried.
She could hear the Master's steps as he came to stand over her. "Not such a chip off the old block after all, are you?" he taunted. "You really would have done it."
He held up the screwdriver for them all to see. "Isomorphic controls!" he spat. "Which means...they only work for me! Like this!"
A savage beam of light burst from the screwdriver and struck Francine in the right arm. She screamed and fell to her knees.
"Mum!" Tish yelled in fear.
"Say you're sorry!" the Master commanded.
"Sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Francine gabbled, terrified that a further blast would be forthcoming to end her life. But the Master ignored her and focussed on the crumpled form at his feet.
"Now, my lady," he hissed, his voice quiet and deadly. "KNEEL to your Lord and Master!"
Tejana stiffened in anger. She knew he was probably going to kill her, but she didn't care. Slowly, painfully, she raised herself to her feet and stood before him, eye to eye.
Her chin tilted proudly and her voice dripped contempt. "I am...a Time Lady of Gallifrey," she said with icy emphasis. "I...do not...KNEEL!"
Fury flooded the Master's handsome face – but, oddly, she also thought she saw a flash of respect. Without breaking eye contact with her, his screwdriver swung around and pointed once more at Francine. The older lady whimpered in horror.
"KNEEL!" he repeated. "Or Martha Jones will have to manage without a family!"
For a moment suspended in time they stood, nose to nose, his wicked brown eyes locked with her midnight blue. Then, suddenly, Tejana smiled. "Forcing a body to kneel is not the same as the mind, the hearts and the soul," she told him and dropped to her knees, bowing her head in exaggerated mockery.
"If you say so," he sneered. "Now, stay there, while we get on with some real business,"
He gestured at Lucy, who rushed forward eagerly to help him into his jacket. "Didn't you learn anything from the blessed Saint Martha? Siding with the Doctor is a very dangerous thing to do!"
Hours later, Tejana lay on the narrow cot in her prison cell, resting her aching head against the wall. She didn't know which hurt more, her damaged wrists, nearly broken by the Master in the tussle for the screwdriver, or her pounding head, throbbing both from when he had backhanded her and from when she had impacted with the floor.
Mercifully, the guards had neglected to chain her hands tonight. Her ankles had been manacled to the wall instead, attached to a long chain, so she was able to move about a bit if she wished. The day had been a very long, anguished one. First, the failure of their long-planned coup. She had heard the guards talking among themselves and gathered that both Jack and Clive Jones had been severely punished for their part in the diversion below decks. Jack had been killed again and again, they said, for the Master's entertainment. Jack was an immortal and could not die, but he could feel pain. Tejana hated to think what the Master had put him through. The renegade Time Lord was so paranoid – she should have guessed that he would have implemented isomorphic controls on his toy, it was a simple security measure. But she was not sorry they tried, even if it was just to show the Master that he had not completely crushed them.
But the Doctor...oh, the Doctor! Tejana closed her eyes wearily, determined to hold back the defeated tears. The Master had decided to send an emphatic message to Martha Jones. He had heard that she had returned to Britain after walked the Earth for a year at the Doctor's request. Rumours abounded across the world that she was the one who would kill the Master and save the Earth. So the Time Lord had opened a global broadcast, so that she would be sure to see it. And then he had turned his aging device on the Doctor once more, progressing his deterioration from one hundred years to his true age of over nine hundred years. It had been horrifying to watch. The Doctor was still alive, but only just, shrunk into a tiny, dwarf-like figure with huge sunken eyes. The Master had laughed and imprisoned him in a bird cage, suspended on the flight deck like a trophy for all to see.
Tejana shuddered. She knew they all had to stay strong until the Doctor's plan came to fruition. But sometimes she wondered if any of them would make it through alive. Gingerly shifting her head to a more comfortable position, she tried to get some sleep, hoping to ease her blinding headache. She was disturbed a short time later by the opening of her cell door. She sat up abruptly, expecting to see her black-clad guard. To her horror, instead, the Master walked into the room. With a sinking feeling, she realised she had been foolish to assume it was over. The Master would never allow her little assassination attempt to slide without some appropriate reprisals.
The Master smiled, taking in his captive's untidy, tumbled mass of black hair, the glaring red mark from his signet ring marring the pale perfection of her cheek, the steady dark blue eyes watching him with apprehension.
"Good evening," he said mockingly. "Oh...don't worry...I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to help you."
Tejana stared at him, suddenly realising that the tray in his hands held medical supplies.
"I told you earlier," he continued, sitting beside her on the bunk. "Those wrists need some attention. Can't have you getting sick, now can we? That wouldn't do at all."
Silently, she watched him prepare some disinfectant.
"You don't go through as many regenerations as I have without picking up some first aid skills," he told her. "Hands, please."
For a moment, she hesitated, unwilling to obey even this simple command. But she knew he was right, the open sores on her wrists were at huge risk of infection. She gave him her hands.
"Of course, I could have had one of my minions attend to it," he continued. "But I thought it might be nice to have a little chat."
Tejana braced herself for pain, but his touch was surprisingly gentle as he began to clean the abrasions.
"Nothing to say?" he asked mildly. Then his tone hardened. "How about 'Thank you, Master' ?"
She sighed inwardly. It had been such a long day, she couldn't fight any more. His hands on hers were warm and soothing, almost hypnotic in their touch. How long since someone had touched her? She couldn't even remember.
"Thank you, Master," she repeated in a dull voice.
"That's better," he said in satisfaction. "No smile though? No? Not even a little one? We've known each other a long time, haven't we? Do you know, until you smiled at me today, I never realised how little you do it? So whatever happened to turn you into such a sad-sack?"
Tejana didn't reply. She wasn't about to spill out her life story to the Master. He reached for some aloe vera cream and began to smooth it over her injured wrists. The cool cream brought blessed relief from the insistent burning pain.
"Of course, travelling with the Doctor can't be much fun," he mused, clearly not expecting a response. "Always saving this and saving that. Last I heard, you'd got sick of it and went to live with that idiot Turlough on his insipid little planet. So why are you back on Earth?"
Tejana took in her breath sharply, surprised that the Master knew about her and Turlough. But then, he was the Master, he made it his business to know the things that would hurt his enemies the most. For a moment, she almost told him to go to hell, but the movement of his hands on her wrists felt so warm and good, almost strangely sensual, and she couldn't summon the required anger.
"The Daleks attacked Trion," she answered haltingly. "It was at the very beginning of the Time War. I went back to Gallifrey, begged the High Council for help. Romana was the President then, I thought she would listen. The Daleks were a cancer, slowly spreading through the Universe. But the Time Lords refused. Turlough was killed and Trion was destroyed. I couldn't stop it, any of it. You were right before, when you said I'm not a chip off the old block."
The Master finished with the salve and began to deftly bandage her wrists. "So where was Daddy dearest during all that?" he asked sarcastically.
Tejana shrugged as carelessly as she could, trying not to show how much that question still pierced her. "I don't know."
He paused and looked at her closely. "Off doing his own thing as usual, huh? What a surprise."
Her eyes flashed angrily. "Don't think you can use it to turn me against him. It was a long time ago, it's over!"
"But you blamed him for a long time, didn't you?" the Master said with a knowing smile.
She closed her eyes to shut out the memories. "Maybe. I told you, it was a long time ago, we got past it. That's what families do."
This last was a subtle dig at the Master, who had no family left. He appeared serenely oblivious though, as he secured the last of the bandaging. Gently grasping her hands, he turned them over to inspect his handiwork. Suddenly, his fingers tightened almost cruelly, trapping her hands within his own.
"And you and the oh-so-handsome Captain Jack?" he demanded silkily. "I've seen the way he looks at you. Are you lovers?"
Again, the urge to tell him to go to hell bubbled up in her throat, as their eyes caught and held. To her horror, she felt her breath caught in her chest, a frisson of sexual awareness tingling deep in her belly. He was so very close and his strong fingers felt so good...
Snapping herself back to reality, she tore her gaze away. "Not that it's any of your business," she snarled. "But no, we're not!"
But the Master refused to let her gaze drop. Imprisoning both her hands in one of his, he ran a questing finger up her throat, under her chin, forcing it up until their eyes met again. His face was intent now, no trace of mockery evident.
"I'm guessing that isn't by his choice," he said huskily.
Tejana flushed as the brown eyes searched her face, the moment stretching on and on. Then, abruptly, it was over. He released her wrists and got to his feet.
"Poor old Captain Jack..." he sneered. "Absolutely dying to screw a Time Lord and neither you nor the Doctor will oblige him."
Shaken, but unwilling to admit it, Tejana lifted her chin defiantly. "Maybe you should ask him on a date then."
The Master laughed. "Oh, but I'm a happily married man, don't forget. Sweet Lucy Saxon, my ever faithful companion. I think I shall seek her out. With all the business of running this loathsome little planet, I have been quite neglecting her."
He picked up the tray and moved to the door, which was dutifully opened by a guard.
"Perhaps the next time I kill Captain Freak, you will accompany me," he said coldly. "It's so entertaining thinking up new and more painful ways to do it, over and over again. Good night then."
With that, he was gone and the door slammed closed again. Tejana exhaled loudly, her head spinning in crazy circles. She must have some weird kind of concussion. To be attracted to the Master, even for one tiny instant – she must be completely losing her mind! It was obviously much too long since she had been intimate with anyone – next time Jack propositioned her, she was going to take him up on it, that was for sure! Although, given the current situation, that wasn't likely to be any time soon.
The Master had always been compelling and hypnotic, full of deadly charm. She had been tired and unusually susceptible, she excused herself. But deep down, she knew that the Master had not planned for their encounter to go like that. She had seen in his eyes that he was as surprised as she.
Surreal, she thought, settling down again for sleep. A surreal end to a bizarre day.
Standing with the Master in the central work area of the Hub, Tejana blinked at the acute memory. Surreal was the word – so many things had changed in such a few short years. She had been so angry with Jack and Martha for the Ret-Con incident, but, really, who could blame them? Not so long ago she had been doing her best to kill the man who stood beside her, now all she knew was that she didn't want to live without him. And she didn't even really know how it had happened.
The Master noticed her abstracted gaze. "What?"
"Nothing," she said. "Nothing at all."
Gently, he cupped her cheek with his hand. "It will all be OK, Ana," he told her reassuringly.
Still half-caught in the past, she almost flinched away from his touch. Then she gave him a wan smile. "Yeah. Yeah, of course it will."
Another Author's Note: As you might already have gathered, I am usually an absolute stickler for canon. But in the flashback in this chapter, I have changed things a little, with Tejana trying to kill the Master instead of the Doctor. Three reasons for this: firstly, I don't think the Doctor would try to kill him anyway – he said he was there to save him, after all; secondly, the Doctor already had a plan to save the world, so I don't think he would have jeopardised it by trying to steal the Master's screwdriver – that was something a more impatient person might do (like Tejana, in my story); thirdly, it just fits in a whole lot better with my story if Tejana does it, so there, lol! SO, anyway, if you don't like it, sorry about that, but there it is.