I walk alone - 25
The Doctor felt his body settled away from regeneration. There was no more pain, just emptiness. He gave a rueful smile.
He was alone in his thoughts.
Ianto had gone; the only connection remaining was the soft whisper of the young TARDIS lamenting the follies of men. He opened his eyes and old memories assaulted him once more as he found himself on Gallifrey.
It was night time; the sky above was bleeding light as darker shades of tawny terracotta and spice streaked its flaming mantle, its twin suns dipping behind the haggard peaks of the Kyllyvos mountains. The sky would soon turn from copper, to bronze, to…
He lifted his head, music drifted on the sweep of the breeze, dancing in careless notes of euphoria. The Doctor closed his eyes, his finger keeping time with the music as he hummed, softly, along. Solemnitas nox noctis: festival of the night, a celebration of the coming of winter heralded by a dark, grey-blue, tint in the night sky.
The Doctor followed the sound just as he had before as the old man aged by more than time. The rust coloured grass, dried in the heat, sighed as he strolled through its seasoned meadow, relinquishing the ivory petals of its seed husks to float like snow into the night. Pathways had been trampled into its mellow standing, guiding the traveller to the heart of the festivities, but the Doctor kept to the shadows, concealing himself near the twisted and ancient wood of the sepia coloured tree line.
The sky deepened to charcoal, an obscure darkness that gripped the blaze of the heavens, fingering its rich light and dousing its glowing embellishment.
Bonfires were lit from the embers of the ground to keep alive the warmth of the earth against the approach of the hoar like mist that signified the fall of summer. The Doctor inhaled deeply, relishing the cinnamon aroma of the Gallifreyan wood, savouring the moment of this, his homecoming.
The memory was so vivid, so precious.
It was his last of Sanna.
He watched her move with grace amongst the long grass, fingers trailing in the feathered stalks, dispersing their lacy blooms into the air. Time had been kind, for in the flush of both sky and fire she outshone their nature with beauty that can only come from within. He wanted to reach out, to hold her, to touch her, but he felt soiled and unclean, afraid that he would somehow tarnish the tranquillity and peace she had found. So he followed her footfalls in the grass, close but never near.
She reached into the pocket of her gown and retrieved a baked Tacabeara, testing its surface to see if it was ready to eat. It was oval in appearance, a fruit similar to the head of a budding rose, dark pink in colour where it had been baked in the flaming roots of its own tree to trigger germination. It was a delicacy and a favourite of his from childhood.
She turned and around him the memory withdrew like the sea from the sand of an out going tide; but Sanna still remained.
She took a step toward him, her footprint remaining in the beach of his mind, offering him the fruit. His hand reached across the dark space between them, fingers outstretched, needing to touch her waning form before it too vanished into the starless corners of his awareness. She looked at the longing in his eyes and smiled sadly as her facade began to dissolve into busy partials of light emanating from her body.
She placed the Tacabeara into his palm and wrapped his fingers around the fruit as her likeness dispersed into the glow of the TARDIS, his TARDIS. The contour of her hand swept his face, bathing it in the radiance of her being, instilling a serenity upon the tired framework of his hectic mind.
"'And you, my father, there on that sad height, curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.'" She spoke the words softly in his head, before kissing his cheek.
The fruit unfurled in his grasp, indicating it was ready to eat, but instead of the bitter sweet pulp of its seeds it held small bubbles of memories beneath the shedding petals.
The Doctor touched one with his fingertip. He looked into the ghostly form of the TARDIS.
"These are Ianto's memories," he exclaimed, laughing a little. "He gave them to you, of course he did! After all, he's more apart of you than me. Clever boy." He laughed again. "Clever boy!"
He held one of the small spheres and placed it to his lips. "Now, what was so important that you kept it from us?"
The Doctor closed his eyes and swallowed.