Chapter 5 – The Game
Susan had laid her traps well, and led him a merry chase through the maze she'd constructed. She could feel him behind her, sense his determination, but also something else, something that startled her; he was amused, enjoying the chase, reveling in the game, but there was also something else. He was reacting to her very much as a man would, she could feel his sudden interest.
Her hearts were pounding in alarm and there were other things stirring in her that she refused to put name to. She had to defeat him, she had to win, and she would not be broken by him or anyone else.
Her plan had seemed so simple and effective, but there was something happening between them that confused her. She had seen too much of his mind, she realized. He wasn't just a story to her anymore, he was a person. He was also a man, an attractive one, and she had been alone for far too long. No one had touched her in so long and it was distracting her that was all, she decided.
She still hated him, of course, despite all of that. She'd do whatever it took to save herself, even to the point of destroying him. Wouldn't she? She couldn't afford doubts, and yet, she remembered the way her grandfather had spoken of the Master, with pity, love, and grief. Even at the worst moments, when he'd done something horrific, her grandfather had still mourned the loss of his oldest friend.
She couldn't afford her grandfather's kindness, though, not now, not when it could mean losing her mind. She strengthened her resolve and readied herself for the right moment.
Here, he was coming, his guard was lowered as he sought for her, one more moment, and then… Now!
He plunged into the deepest part of her, determined to bend her will, to possess her, to make her into something that he owned.
He realized his error in a heartbeat, as she rushed past him, out of her own mind and deep into his own. He threw up defenses as fast as he could, but she was already inside of him, before he could muster them to any effect. The schoolgirl had turned the tables on him!
She fell through a maddening drumbeat that seemed to batter at her mind. Everywhere she looked he was webbed with black cords. They were wrapped around every single part of his awareness, binding him up, turning all his best impulses against him. His mind had been twisted and broken in many of the same ways that the Seekers had tried to break and bind her own. It was like looking into a mirror that was distorted and cracked.
She clutched at the cords as she fell, grabbing and tearing at them. They were horrible, wrong, filled with malice and the enjoyment of cruelty. She found true hate for whoever had placed them there. Whatever had been done to him was calculated, purposeful, but she couldn't stop to grasp the reasons for it all during her headlong flight. Through it all, that drumbeat roared in her head, the sound of madness, punishing her endlessly.
She landed on a hard surface, the sky above was dark, and the Untempered Schism was standing nearby, trying to lure her with promises of the future. She turned her back on that unsubtle enticement; the future could take care of itself. The present was more than enough trouble for her.
A sad whimpering noise caught her attention and she turned to find a child, huddled against the cold ground, weeping. His memory, she realized. It was himself at eight, huge blue eyes wide with terror. Something had been done to him, something terrible. Pity clutched at her. He'd been nothing but a child and they had tried to break him apart. She paused long enough to stroke the fine dark hair and soothe him. He'd been so young, so fragile.
She could sense him coming again, a cloud of destructive fire and rage and she dropped even deeper, letting herself fall towards his center. She would get there and pull him apart as he had intended to pull her apart. She'd tear into him to save herself.
She fell unexpectedly into a dazzling light. His center glowed like a nebula, filled with shifting colors, and glittering, glowing tendrils of his brilliance were whipped into complex forms by a mind so agile and intricate that it was like luminous spun threads. She was struck dumb by the incredible beauty of him. All her plans to destroy fell away. He was too beautiful, too rare, too precious to harm. Her arms fell to her sides and she felt tears starting in her eyes.
Turning to look back, she saw the drumbeat, the webbing, the horror that had been laid upon him, driving him to madness and a fury to match her own. It was appalling. It was wrong.
"You!" he shouted and his mind turned on her, diving inside her soul, seeking to drive her out, to destroy her. She opened herself to him, without thinking, reaching for some way to fix him.
The Master lashed out at her. How dare she strip him of his defenses like this? He plunged into the heart of her, ready to destroy her for her impertinence and then, he stilled in wonder.
Beautiful
A golden sun burned inside of her, she was fire and light, warmth, compassion, and a boundless love that he could crawl inside of and rest in. He saw a brilliant mind that leaped from thought to thought, putting together connections and ideas with blinding speed. She was strong, proud, and defiant. She was a fighter whose courage and indomitable will burned like a supernova at the heart of her. She was so alone, so desperately lonely, so hounded, and so afraid. He felt pity and admiration uncoiling in his heart, his rage fading as he took in the essence of her.
As she saw him, he saw her, and then it was too late for either of them. Heat and fire blazed between them, the connection they'd inadvertently created was now seeking completion. He felt half-starved and he knew exactly what he needed to feed his soul. He needed her.
His hands shifted on her, turning his pinioning of her limbs into an embrace, his mouth plundering hers, his mind reaching into hers, seeking to make them into one thing. Her hands were in his hair and her body was pressing against his, whimpering with desire. He was frantic with hunger and need, wanting her so much it was a fire in his blood.
Visions burst inside of their minds, he saw a TARDIS exploding, everything that ever had been, lost in an instant. He saw the two of them, twined together on a bed, making love, bodies and minds joined. He saw a future without her where everything burned and fell into destruction. He saw them holding each other and the universe rebuilding itself around them. He saw another where they flew into the Void, tangled together into one being, seeking to warn the Doctor about some terrible calamity. Terror raced through them both, the fear was imbedded in the visions themselves and they painted themselves across both their minds.
He shoved it all aside, intent on making her his, on branding her with his mouth, his hands. He no longer cared about anything else. He was pulling at her robe and her hands were tugging at his clothes as well, and they were falling into each other, deeper and deeper, with no desire but one; to merge into unity.
He was roughly grabbed and dragged back. Voices were shouting, and people were flooding into the room. He snarled and fought, his eyes never leaving hers. She stared back at him, fighting to reach him, as she too was held and then pinned. He raged that they dared to touch her.
"Leave her alone! She's mine!" he roared and her eyes on his held no fear, no dismay, just a mirror of his own need echoing in her. "Don't touch her!" he shouted and then he was hauled from the room. Once eye contact was broken, he came abruptly to his senses. Cold, shaken, and suddenly sane again, he stopped fighting and went still.
What the hells had just happened to him?
Susan flared and melted at his touch, his mouth was searing her and she was in his mind, tearing at the black cords, frantically trying to free him, trying to release him from his slavery. She wanted him so much, needed to surrender to this thing between them that was so much greater than either of them, but she was also working her way deeper into his psyche, trying to heal everything broken inside of him.
The centuries of his life had tugged the cords out of their original positions, but she looked into them and understanding flared through her, knowledge poured into her, and she tore at them with greater ferocity still. She knew what they were, why they had been placed there, and why it was critical for them to be removed.
She was being pulled from him, the Seekers were yanking her from his arms and she wanted to scream at them to let her go, to let her go to him, because she had to finish what she was doing, she had to free his mind and bring him back to sanity.
Too quickly they were separated and the intense joining was broken. She tasted the bitter knowledge of her failure.
He was not free and he was still mad.
She was dragged from the room and tossed back onto the floor of her cell. She curled up into a ball, dazed and anxious, tortured by the visions, but especially by what had come with them.
Oh God, he was beautiful inside, a glorious crystalline artwork shining in the darkness. She had never seen anything so incandescent, so lovely, and so joyous. She had never wanted anything as much as she had wanted to fall into him. His eyes had burned her, and oh, how she had wanted to burn.
But now she was lying on the cold stone, and the reality of what had happened was too much for her. She could still feel him inside of her, still wanted more, and yet she was so scared. The black cords that tied him up, that twisted through him, they were a wall between them, and it was a wall that she wasn't sure she could ever breech.
There were too many of them and they had grown into his mind, wrapped themselves about his identity. Even if she could cut most of them away, they were now a part of him, part of his soul. He had grown up with them in his head and they had integrated into his personality. Whoever he would have been, had they not twisted him, she would never know. That person was gone forever.
She felt the grief and sorrow of that keenly. She mourned for the child he'd been, bound up and sacrificed to a future he had no knowledge of. Susan was filled with hurt for him and also fears for herself. Where did that leave her? Somehow, she'd ended up tied to a man who wasn't even master of his own mind, a man who'd been ripped apart as a child and rebuilt into a lifeboat for Gallifrey.
His whole being had been turned to one purpose; to survive at all costs, to get to Earth, and to let nothing stop him from building a bridge into the past. Everything they'd done to him was designed towards that aim and they didn't care what became of him, what horrors he'd unleash because of it, nothing mattered except that Rassilon not be allowed to die. This is what she'd found and this is what she had failed to repair. Everything in the universe could end because she hadn't been able to mend his mind.
Then in the moment of her greatest despair, the Seekers launched their next attack on her and she began to scream again.
White hot fury seared through her, she erupted at all those responsible for this nightmare she was trapped in. She dived down in the darkest part of her soul and turned on her tormenters with brutal ferocity. She ripped at their minds, tore at them, using everything she'd learned from fighting the Master and destroying them without thought of the cost to her.
She didn't care anymore, she had seen what they all were capable of and they deserved no mercy. She immolated her innocence, her youth, her hope, and became something that could move with pitiless speed through them and not stop until every mind that had moved against her had fallen silent and still.
She stood up in the center of her cell, with her fists clenched, teeth bared, panting with exertion, and vowed that she would never again be their victim. She'd make them fear her, make them cower away from her, or die trying. She would come after them like a storm over the plain, with power, with fury, and with no mercy.
They could all burn. She would see to it.
The Master knew that he was going to suffer now. Knew it the instant he saw Rassilon's eyes. Fury and darkness rode in them and he knew there would be anguish and torment for him. He wasn't wrong.
"You failed me," Rassilon informed him and the words were hazy as he twisted in pain on the floor of the council chamber.
"She was much stronger than I'd suspected," he gasped out.
"Beaten by a schoolgirl, Master?" he mocked him, spitting out his name like an insult. The Master rode the painful sensations, but realized they were less agonizing than before. Why? He searched inside of him and found the unexpected.
Susan.
Somehow she was holding back as much of the torment as she could. Her stubborn will was pushed up against the agony, fighting against it, lessening it.
"Stop it! Fight your own battles, I don't need your help!" he snarled in his mind, despite the strange wonderment of her support.
"Hurts me too, you idiot!" she snapped back and he gasped aloud in understanding. They were still connected, and deeply enough that she could feel his pain through it. This was rather unexpected. It seemed that he was quite possibly bound to the Doctor's precious granddaughter. He was torn between amusement and disgust, but amusement was winning out.
"A very unusual schoolgirl," he chuckled weakly to Rassilon and then lay limp on the floor, as the pain finally subsided.
"The Visionaries swear she is the Arkytior, but I am unconvinced," Rassilon mused, walking past the Master's prone form to settle into a chair. "She has yet to have any visions of significance."
The Arkytior? Well, that explained much. If she truly was the genetic recipient of that ancient power, it would easily explain how she could fight him so deftly. Yet, she was not a vengeful goddess, or a whispering Seer, she was, oh stars, she was…everything. His body was reacting to the merest thought of her in a manner that he found highly vexing.
He bit his tongue, holding the shared vision, the truth of their connection, all of it, in a secret place inside of him. He knew it must remain a secret. They'd never free her if they knew she was bound to him or that she truly did have visions of note, which meant he'd never have her, and he had to have her. He would own her, possess her, and someday soon.
"Not likely," she scoffed in the back of his mind, even as the connection faded to mere background noise again. He found himself smiling and didn't know why. She obviously hated him, but it would only make his victory over her sweeter in the end.
"If you cannot induce a vision in her through telepathy alone, then it's unlikely we will find someone who can. You're insane, but you are the most skilled telepath we have," Rassilon acknowledged the obvious, that the Master was still the most gifted amongst them all.
He knew that for sheer power Rassilon could crush him like a bug. Despite that, Rassilon lacked finesse, if he had tried to break Susan, there'd have been nothing left of her. The thought of that bothered him a great deal. The girl was his now and he wanted her intact when he finally came to claim her.
He wondered if it was worth getting up off of the floor or not. The likelihood was that he would quickly find another opportunity to annoy the Lord President and he doubted if he'd be able to resist saying something rude. Except, that if he provoked another such dose of pain, Susan would suffer as well. Damn. He couldn't risk that. Her mind was already under constant assault by those dolts. Having to fight off the pain she received from the connection they shared could distract her in a critical moment. She was his to play with, not theirs.
"Would you like me to try again?" he asked the Lord President. Oh yes, he thought, let him try again, and this time he'd let no one stop him, he'd have her in his arms and in his bed. He levered himself up from the floor and stood on somewhat wobbly legs, visions of what he wanted to do to her burning in him.
"No. This path is obviously a dead end. The Visionaries had nearly a year to open her, and failed, another way will have to be found." The Master didn't like the sound of that. She belonged to him now and he didn't want this disgusting creature touching her. "I will send you back to Avalon, the General there was quite impressed with your engineering skills," he was informed.
"I see," he answered, but his discontent was not completely hidden. Rassilon laughed aloud, his mocking disdain ringing through the chamber.
"Did you think I'd let you anywhere near her now? She's from a lineage far too refined for a mad dog like you to mount!" he was informed and his blood boiled. "I got a full report of your behavior in the Tower; you would have raped the girl, if they hadn't pulled you off of her."
The Master recalled it rather differently. Susan had been returning his kiss with equal passion. That instant of lunacy between them had been quite mutual, even as their sudden cold awakening had been. There was no question of rape. She'd wanted him as much as he'd wanted her. He still wanted her, he could hardly keep himself still while the need to get back to her raged in him. Damn it! Bound up in her or not, he had to control himself. This madness wasn't going to help him fight free of Rassilon, or get his revenge on all of those that had wronged him, after all.
He shrugged carelessly, not about to discuss his new obsession with the Lord President. The less he said, the less vigilant the man would be in the future, and opportunities might yet arise.
He would obey his orders and go back to Avalon like a good boy. He'd bide his time. For now.