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Three Sisters
chapter three:time
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When they were finished with him, the younger sisters left him alone in the void. They'd lost interest. The War had given them so much to do and they were eager to get started. Only their elder sister remained to hear the Doctor's anguished pleas. Time made herself just corporeal enough that he could see her, see the damage that the Time War had inflicted.
"Mercy for your Champion, my Lady?"
"That mercy is not mine to grant." Her rainbow-hued eyes regarded him sadly. His flowing hair and delicate features looked out of place in the battle-scarred armour he wore. So heavy and crude. And it hadn't provided much protection anyway. Time noted with some satisfaction that the weapon ports were pristine, unmarked by use. He hadn't fired a single round. "Still true to yourself, despite all that's happened," she observed.
"True to you, my Lady."
"Indeed. I wish I could reward you for your loyal service, but I have nothing to offer you but my gratitude. For you see I too have suffered losses. My warriors- No, not warriors, they were never very good warriors..." She paused, frowning. "My guardians are all gone. All but you, Last of the Time Lords."
"I should be with them! That was the plan!"
"Plans go awry."
"I shouldn't have lived! Release me!" he sobbed.
"Then who would be my Champion?"
He had no answer.
"Blame me for your predicament, Time Lord. Curse my name. Hate me, even. For it was my own intervention that kept you from joining your people as they burned," Time whispered in his ear. "My sisters demanded a great price, but I paid it gladly. I thought I owed that much to my Champion."
He still had no answer.
"I had another reason too," she confided. "A selfish reason. I need my Champion. Especially now." She extended an insubstantial hand to him. "Dance with me, Time Lord." It was more than a plea, but less than a command.
He looked again at the twisted metal that encased his ruined legs. His voice was a whisper. "How, my Lady?"
"I still have some power here. Take my hand."
He reached for her hand, and as they touched he became as light and insubstantial as she was. He rose, ghostlike, leaving his armour, his weapons, even his flesh behind. And they danced.