Disclaimer: I sadly don't own Doctor who.
09: [The Open Door]
As he held the letter between his fingers, there was not even any sweat to soak the yellowish 18th century paper.
His facial features appeared almost impassive as he glanced along those artfully written lines, imagining how her always sovereign, always composed voice would accentuate them, tired and worn-out by the ravages of time, diligently choosing each of these distinguished words, arranging them as one would expect it from someone who had dedicated her life to art and beauty, even when all of that beauty had long since abandoned her, scared away by sickness that was in return chased by the pallor of death.
As he read her iteration of those words he'd said to her mere hours ago, hours that had turned into a lifetime for her, and felt like an eternity to him, back when they still held a meaning only known to the two of them, before the wheels of time had ground them into an empty promise, he found himself unable to display neither shock nor anger, nor tears – He just shut down.
That's just how tired and dried-out he felt.
Transiency – It did not even manage to surprise him anymore, he had almost expected it to strike. It menacing warnings stuck to his feet like a shadow, following him everywhere he went, even if there was no pompous baroque architecture to remind him of it in every instant – over the course of his travels, he had visited empires that had lasted for millienia, both as they had sprouted out of the ground like mushrooms, and as they had been reduced to the sands they had sprung from, civilisations rising and falling around him as he stood there, watching like some sort of ancient monument.
Whenever he saw Rose's smile, he'd be reminded of how small and ephemeral she was, how easy it would be for him to smash her to pieces if he wanted to – The same was probably true for Mickey the Idiot. Only recently, he'd met Sarah Jane again – It was certainly good to see her, investigating on her own, not having allowed the last decades to wrest any of her virtues from her grip. It only confirmed that he had done something right when he chose to take her with him all that time ago – but these years, they had showed.
Not as much as they could have, actually, she still looked pretty much like did when they were both younger, with just a few wrinkles here and there that you'd miss in the right light, but enough to remind him that she wasn't forever.
He was confronted with death and destruction every other day, and came dangerously close to his own physical annihilation at a similar frequency – So how could he possibly forget about death's ever-present looming shadow in a place like a wrecked starship drifting alone through the black, endless void, or the intricately decorated rooms of a baroque palace – He knew about the background that had inspired the art of that time period, the wars, plagues and crop failures that had ravaged Europe, wiping entire cities off the map, suddenly making everyone aware of their own mortality.
He'd never been particularly interested in that time period, as he preferred functionality to fancy decorations ("No, Rose, we're not scanning for alien technology, yes, it is a screwdriver, and I'm proud of it.") and it didn't really have much to tell him – "Memento Mori"? "Carpe diem"? He was probably the last person in the universe who needed to be told to live each day to the fullest or to be mindful of death – The time of revolutions that had followed had always entranced him, for even as he did find the atrocities that had been committed appalling, he still found it somewhat fascinating, on a purely intellectual level: How could people who were, by their own claims, motivated by reason, result to such unreasonable actions? Yeah, that was something he couldn't understand, and therefore, something interesting, but he didn't need everything around him telling him something he already knew.
The huge paintings all cross the oval ceilings, the neatly-odered gardens where every leaf had its place, the little details on the walls that probably took an incredible time to make, the mirrors and tapestries he used as portals, of these were icons of short-lived, luxuriant grandiosity that would not last, and those who had built it had probably known it, indulging in extravagant festivities and the pleasures of the flesh, living their lives to the fullest because they knew of the futility of their actions, dancing to cascading melodies or listening to poets reciting their meticulously structured creations speaking of death, sensuality and unfulfilled love often in the same breath, describing the endless paradoxed of life with hyperbolic, ebullient words.
Even the droids had looked like walking, ticking vanitas still-lifes – there was certainly some pathos to be found in the way that they had just… stopped after being left without a purpose.
The crown of these fugacious temptations of life, however, was her, wrapped in a new set of lush decorations each time he saw her, her long hair, but a waterfall of flowing, liquid gold suiting the poems sung about it, polished to shine to please the ego of an absolutist king even though it would be cut off one day, to turn into something baleful and disgusting to be disposed of, just as the rest of her body did when she died, displayed itself in a new hairstyle each time, each one more elaborate and ornate than the last, her chest, barely fitting into her dresses, rising and falling with the pulsation of her life, resembling solid, sparkling honey in the radiance of the candles illuminating it, was to be found wrapped in more expensive silk each time, her robes decorated with golden embroidery that filled them to the brim, accentuated her feminine curves that were already sinfully lavish on their own, the cape-like accessories she wore accentuating her natural regal elegance, adorning her first in the white of innocence, then the fresh blue of a spring breeze, the sun's yellow, the red of life and finally, the crowning gold and silver of the stars, matching the priceless jewellery on her wrists, ears and neck, and those bows that begged him to unpack her.
Yet, even as her captivating breasts teased him each time she exhaled, it was impossible to miss that they simply did not look like they did last time he saw them – The years barely showed on her enchanting face, it was the abrupt transition, the skipping of multiple years that made their traces apparent, the flesh starting to sag ever so slightly, as if suddenly befallen by an unappeasable longing to return to the earth it was born from, the most extraordinary being turning into the most ordinary dust that would no longer receive the worship the tin god of her beauty had inspired, except by the weeping skies that had mourned her final departure from Versailles.
He should have expected that this was not meant to be – She had her place in history.
All there was left for him to do was to close down the last time windows, the last open door that now led to nowhere, the portal through which he'd both met and parted with her.
Just one little buzz from his sonic screwdriver, and the flames died down, like they had never been there, leaving that ship whose repair droids had chosen to take her head before her time for a reason he'd never find out to drift aimlessly through the vastness of space for all of eternity, empty and forgotten.
Just the thought of it made him feel cold and burned-out like the ash in that fireplace.
He let himself sink into the seat before the console – if he tried to recall the time he'd spent with her, his memories showed him but surprisingly short individual scenes and moments, making him wonder where that sense of magic and intimacy had come from, or why he felt as if he'd spent a lifetime with her – It was much easier to explain why she had felt that way, for each of their meetings had been followed by years for her to replay it in her memories, to muse about each and every word they had exchanged, to embellish and continue their encounters in her dreams.
Funny, how easy it was to become an integral part of someone's life, how little it took to deeply influence a person – On his travels, he tried his best to show the people he encountered what a fascinating place full of infinite possibilities this world could be – nonetheless, he rarely came to witness the results.
These words he said to her, about listening to reason, his offer to go and pick a star for them to visit, these were probably not the only empty promises he'd made over the years…
The one he recently gave to Rose, about not leaving her, had probably been another one of those.
But what was he to do? Should he forbid himself every ounce of optimism?
Contrary to Mr. Mickey's opinion, he was anything but an intergalactic ladykiller, and did in fact not really know how these sorts of things worked – all he had done was… well, what he usually did. There was a weird phenomenon going on, and he was trying to work out what exactly that was and how he could fix it.
He'd asked her a few things to work out what the situation was, and went to her room to do some investigation, with admittedly involved a fight with a clockwork droid and a little showing-off – He could not help it, especially not around young kids that probably needed to be calmed down after being told that some scary masked thing was after them.
He'd hoped that some big talk would help to convince her that the problem was taken care of, as leaving traumatized little girls in his wake was not really amongst his goals.
Not in a million years would he have expected what the "magic door" had in store for him next time – first off, a completely different room behind it, the walls painted in an intense shade of coral red. As he let his fingers line over the strings of the golden harp displayed in the room, wondering if it belonged to the little girl he'd seen here last time – musical instruments! Who could possibly resist the desire to touch them? – A young woman announced her presence by clearing her throat.
He was just asking her about where Reinette had gone, assuming her to be an older sister or something, before her mother's calls made it painfully obvious that he had been away for a little longer than he thought… And she just smiled, her mind made up in an instant.
It seemed like the little girl he just met had grown into a woman – a stunning woman, to be precise – From the instant he laid eyes on her, he found it difficult to look away, which was not exactly something that happened to him all too often.
Neither her cleavage nor her elaborate pinned-up hairdo did make it any better.
Finding himself stumbling over his words, he tried to think of what to say or do before bidding his farewell – She, however, had already thought of that, perhaps long before he showed up here, and before he knew it, she was standing right in front of him, wrapping him up in her well-chosen, discreet yet straightforward words with his back against the wall.
He could not quite describe the sensation that raced through his nerves as she placed her hand upon his cheek – She knew exactly what she wanted, of that, he had no doubts left.
"So many questions, so little time."
She didn't hesitate a second.
Grabbing hold of him by placing one hand on his check and burying the other in his clothes, she looked demandingly into his eyes, the canopy's frozen azure piercing warm hazelnut brown, revealing her intentions with but a single look, split seconds before fulfilling her wordless promise as she granted him one of, if not the best kiss of his life, pleasing him with the skilful, almost professional yet still authentic and passionate magic of her tongue that sent him past the stratosphere faster than he could think. Her lips were worthy of kings, emperors and gods, the experience unforgettable. Even as he staggered backwards, overwhelmed, she did not relent, simply following his steps until he was pressed against the wall, feeling honoured to return her gift as well as he could, unable to remember any of the many good reasons why he should hold back, terrifyingly aware that he had just fallen for someone he'd known for roughly ten minutes, dropping all restraints as if this was the last day of his life – She certainly knew her art, pulling away in the very instant he had managed to wrap his arms around her, leaving him still completely dazzled, concluding that maybe this time did have something to tell him and especially him, some invaluable lessons about making the best of each of these precious, volatile instants, hidden amongst silk, gold and perfume.
…Did he just really hear that name, or had his head finally gotten lost amongst the clouds?
This couldn't be… could it? It wasn't supposed to be, she was supposed to belong to someone else, but then again, so was he, and his own "someone else" had just wandered of with their favourite idiot in tow… Not again…
One horse, half a corridor, and, to her, probably a few years later, taking a walk through a beautifully decorated garden accompanied by a friend and a lovely parasol, having a conversation in which she didn't veil her ambitions regarding the monarch by nothing but her eloquence – In a way, she certainly deserved a healthy dose of respect – he admired her ability to just… go and do what she wanted.
These two time windows weren't the only ones that showed parts of her life – she was all over that ship, sleeping, conversing, putting on her dresses, playing the harp, just… living her extraordinary life.
More often than not, he would catch himself stopping to observe the one or the other interesting scene.
The window he conveniently found Mickey and Rose standing in front of showed her first meeting with the King, where she made some skilful use of both her charms and probably her conversation skills to spark some interest.
As she adjusted her dress at the mirror that also formed part of the time window, thereby giving both him and his companions a good view of her, he could understand why it hadn't taken her all too long to enthral the king – she was mesmerized enough to distract an experienced seeker of the paranormal like him from the broken clock behind her for quite a while – in fact, she was probably the first to notice the droid ticking in the corner, and promptly ordered it to reveal itself – noticing the danger, he steppend through the time window, quickly followed by Rose, Mickey and their improvised weapons, quickly, albeit only tentatively freezing the repair android after quickly greeting Reinette.
With her help (She coped with the situation quite well – many others confronted with so many inexplicable thing happening before their eyes would have probably panicked, but she kept her composure quite well and firmly ordered the clockwork droid to spit out some answers.) they were able to figure out what had taken place on this ship, but to make sure, he'd have to try to get some more information out of her brain – With his telepathic abilities, a bit of concentration and a healthy dose of luck, he might still be able to determine what they were scanning her for, or what they meant by 'incomplete', but much like the last one, this meeting was to take a few surprising turns.
After sending his companions after the android, he asked her to trust him before gently cupping her face with his long, barely used fingers.
He mistook her initial reaction as one of discomfort and thus told her how to hide things she didn't want them to see – and she did hide them, with a somewhat sly expression that spoke of the knowledge that any love or fascination lives off the little secrets that made sure the other person never got bored – If one never knew the entirety of the other, one would never be able to fully predict the actions of the other – even if one knew the simply formulas that defined the movement of things, they could still fall into a state of chaos that didn't allow for any calculation, and it was pretty much the same with a beloved person - The fun could be found where the mysteries were, hand in hand with the surprise element.
Regardless of that, it became quite clear that Reinette was actually utterly fascinated by what he was doing, deeply intrigued by his ability to move through the layers of her thoughts, feelings and memories like a gentle breeze – He would have expected fear, disapproval, embarrassment or uneasiness, never once considering the possibility of a positive reaction like the amazement she was showing right now.
He had always seen his telepathic abilities as some sort of neat survival trick, just another like his screwdriver or his knowledge in the field of biochemistry – most Time Lords were psychic, tough most required training to refine their abilities to an extent where they could be useful. He had received that training from Borusa, a man he had long since lost all respect for – In hindsight, his teacher had probably thought a solitary, rebellious youth like him would be easy to fashion into an unwitting pawn, and decided to harness his talents in case he'd turn out to be useful later. Much to the Master's amusement, he was never above average, but his frequent travels and the difficult, complex situations he had to face from time to time had proved to be an effective practice method.
He would never have described this way she did, or as much as thought of the possibility of using this… for fun, basically, and there she was, asking him how he could resist it.
Then again, he guessed that a human without telepathic abilities of her own probably saw all of this from a different angle… He never thought about it like that. To directly connect with another living soul, as she put it, was something completely impossible for most humans… they could never truly feel what another of them felt, and, if he remembered correctly, many philosophers thought this to be the source of all elementary loneliness – well, he felt sorry to disappoint the philosophers, but it was still very much possible to feel alone if one had abilities like that … he should be proof of that, if there was any.
"Oh, such a lonely childhood…!"
At first, he thought to have unwillingly stirred up some old memories as he had finally worked out what the droids were after, but this was one of the rare instances where the truth turned out to be more fascinating than the assumptions preceding its discovery, for she had thought of yet another thing that would never have occurred to him – while he had told her how to keep her own secrets safely locked away behind closed doors, his very own door had been left wide open… and while she did not have the power to establish such a link by herself, that fast, amazing mind of hers worked fast to make the best of its lone opportunity to leave the confines of her mortal, if beautiful shell, to wander amongst the unprotected, exposed expanse of his mind where nothing prevented his essence from spilling into hers.
Her mind was every bit as demanding as her lips had been, wishing to know of something as simple as the childhood of the man who had enchanted hers, not of his world or his power, but of his childhood, of him as a person, of what was at the bottom of his abysmal mindscape and what she found where these images of a young boys with the eyes of a lone fighter, knowing very well how it felt to be the only one left outside in the cold, roaming through a mansion and a mountain that were full of space and wonders, yet mostly barren of any sort of company, and of how that feeling had never ready subsided even after he had exchanged that place for the universe.
"How can you bear it?"
He could not.
Beauty was an inherently bittersweet thing; both joy and sadness were always laced with tiny aftertastes of each other.
There were treasures… that could burn one from within if there was no one to share them with. One could, however, forget about the bitter part with someone by one's side – The secret hiding places on that mountain had lost the melancholy air that hung above them after he'd shown them to the Master, for the universe, he had Mickey and Rose, and for the troubles inside his mind – well, these were something the woman in front of him had just taken care of.
He stared at her, dumbstruck at the seemingly impossible, yet shockingly easy thing she had just done, hastily removing his hands and stepping backwards, as if he had accidentally touched her in an improper way, tough it had actually been her who had touched him deep inside where no hand could reach.
"Dance with me." She insisted, her eyes making it very clear that she also meant the other sense of these words, her tone of voice more than of a challenge than one of a question.
A question would have implied that she would accept a no.
She did not tell him just how much of the secrets and black days of his early life she had seen, just to show him that she kept as many secrets as he did – some of these, however, were to be revealed to him this night, for what she had seen was enough for her to make him feel as if this was a direct continuation of his youth in which he was to be compensated for many of the experiences he missed out on as a young man, especially since he felt as uncertain as he would have back then as she lead him to where the festivities were to take place.
Nevertheless, his insecurity did not last as he found himself in the middle of the solemnity, dancing and smiling like everyone else did, letting the cascading melodies guide his steps as if tomorrow was the day where all clocks would stop and the sky would cave in, feeling a bit like Doctor Faustus in that scene where he had stepped onto the marketplace.
In no time, he was introducing the partying noblemen to the advantages of bananas, using whatever he could find in the depths of his pockets as music instruments or for party tricks, and just generally having a great time under her very satisfied eyes.
His majesty was also shooting them looks – for someone who could practically have anyone he wanted, but still had an ego to satisfy, there could probably be no worthier target than the woman who had appeared alongside the mysterious, oddly dressed stranger, as he probably expected her to be the hardest to conquer. He'd probably already made his mind up about whom he'd be romancing at the next party – which was probably very good since it meant that history would play out as it was supposed to – but on this particular night, her eyes rested solely on one single man.
After the music had died down and the rooms had emptied themselves, he gave himself to her, in all his entirety.
Like a gentle breeze in the midst of golden autumn taking brightly coloured leaves with them, her fingers slid across his skin, as if they were softly asking a million questions without her saying a thing. He answered by linking their minds together so that each of them could feel what the other felt, allowing them to ascertain themselves of the pleasure they were providing each other as well as for their own feelings to be intensified by their reflection found in the other's, likewise fuelling their passion tough the immediate exchange of wishes, desires and expressions of gratitude in no time at all.
They were like two opposing mirrors creating a very believable illusion of infinity and endlessness that lasted until this world reminded them that as long as it existed with all of its duties and truths, it would make sure that all good things came to an end.
Every single thing around him was reminding him of that, last but not least the clockwork droids who had finally found the right time window.
The situation looked grim - they had all gathered to collect her head, and he had no way to intercept them – at least not without trapping himself on the other side.
He could hear her, not losing her composure for a second, defiantly staring back into the face of death, convinced that he would come.
There was no other way.
He would not disappoint her, regardless of the high price he would have to pay – As for his companions, he'd have about three thousand years to arrange for someone to pick them up.
If he cut down on sweets, he might even live to see them once more.
So or so, he had made his decision.
Descending like a knight in shining armour on a literal white horse, he smashed the time window into countless little pieces, smiling as Reinette failed to keep her expression in check, unable to keep herself from looking flabbergasted.
And that was all it took for all doors to close behind him and his enemies, one smashed mirror.
As he stared through the window before him, feeling almost bereft, he became painfully aware that everything up there was now beyond his reach and would probably stay that way for a very, very long time. He was trapped… but that was okay.
He had been ready to give his life for complete strangers on so often he'd long since lost count – giving up his freedom for someone he loved was an exceptional offer compared to that. At least he wasn't alone.
She was still at his side, contemplating the milky way with him, sharing a few of her thoughts about the stars, his sacrifice and that strange story of theirs.
As his frown gave way to a few shy smiles, he even found himself trying to get used to the life he would be leading from now on, painfully aware of how foreign the most elementary basics of a normal life had become to him.
But she knew that he did not belong here, that a being like him should not be trapped here, as little as an angel should have its wings clipped, or a unicorn should have its horn broken.
As much as she had probably wished for him to stay with her, she put his happiness before her own, just like he had done, asking him to hold her hand for one last time as she lead him before the last open door.
Like she had said before, a door once opened may be stepped through in either direction – this fireplace was the portal he'd used to step into her life, and now, it would become the gate through which he'd leave it, ironically thanks to her hopes for him to return.
The last, faint "No…!" she sent after him as he left her world made the smile on his face fade into nothingness and left him with a cold, heavy feeling in his chest which he did not listen to as he tried to light her face up by promising her the stars.
A promise that had never been meant to be fulfilled.
He was too late.
When he stepped through the time window for the final time, all that awaited him was the unending deluge the mournful skies had unleashed upon the palace.
She had been waiting in vain, and while she almost casually addressed him as "my love" in her writing, he had missed all the chances to do the same before he even knew there were any.
It was over, that ridiculously short, incredibly eventful time they had shared… but they had made the best out of it, hadn't they?
Yes.
His frozen expression finally shattering into a sad smile, he decided to go looking for Rose and Mickey. He did not know how soon these two would fade from his life, but he did not want them to waste any of the precious seconds they had left with getting lost in the corridors – because once the clocks had ticked those seconds away, he would never get them back.
So, that's it. I hoped you like it! I'll do my best to finish the next chapter as quickly as possible: 10:[The Bad Joke]. As you might have guessed, it will adress the lovely Miss Joan Redfern.