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Lapidary	By : Savaialian Category: 1 through F > Doctor Who Views: 1563 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Doctor Who fandom, nor to I make money from writing about it. I use their creations with due respect.

Chapter List
- 1-Lapidary
- 2-TWO
- 3-THREE
- 4-FOUR
- 5-FIVE
- 6-SIX
- 7-SEVEN
- 8-EIGHT
- 9-NINE
- 10-TEN
- 11-ELEVEN
- 12-TWELVE
- 13-THIRTEEN
- 14-FOURTEEN
- 15-FIFTEEN
- 16-SIXTEEN
- 17-SEVENTEEN
- 18-EIGHTEEN
- 19-NINETEEN
- 20-TWENTY
- 21-TWENTY-ONE
- 22-TWENTY-TWO
- 23-TWENTY-THREE
- 24-TWENTY-FOUR
- 25-EPILOGUE
- 16
- 17
- 18
By the time we endured another religious homily, ate a vegetarian meal, and watched the dancers, I was mostly unwilling to go to the highest spire to watch birds. I could tell the Master felt the same way, but only because of being attuned to him, not because of any facial tells. He had a poker face, for sure. All of his emotions, when displayed, had an equal chance of being false or true.
Sigglis, who’d either taken command of this ceremony or been appointed to it (I didn’t know or care which), positioned the Master in front of the large viewing scope. We weren’t expected to get a good look at these birds. Hann, who’d taken to standing on the other side of me, had whispered that the Needle-Lights, as they were apparently called, were extremely shy of people. A single feather from one could fetch an outrageous price among the ornithologists of this world.
“They make silk, like silkworms,” Hann whispered as the Master obligingly took command of the telescope. “They spin it to bind their dead to tree limbs, because they never make landfall.” She looked up at me with an expression of excitement and awe. “I’m so pleased the emperor invited the palace staff to watch this. It was forbidden, before.”
No one really paid attention to us talking, because Sigglis was droning on and on about the Needle-Lights, and most everyone assembled here seemed spellbound by his recitation. I imagined this information, previously outlawed, thrilled them. In a society where learning and schooling is power, only the learned are powerful.
“Legends say that Gwillain the White, when mourning her wife, was so pure in her grief that all the Needle-Lights in existence visited her at the burying place, and made her a silk mourning shroud,” Hann went on in a dreamy voice. “She took that shroud and offered it to Air by hanging it on a bough of Raelen Wood. Air took pity on her and breathed life back into her wife.” Hann sighed happily at the good ending, elemental tale, looking up at me for approval. “They each lived another sixty years and died together by mutual consent, offering their bodies to Earth as a covenant.”
I found the strength to smile at her idealistic and macabre fancy. Actually, I could understand the power of such a tale. And, I admired this culture for allowing all sexes equal opportunity in love even if they did it nowhere else; so many places, planets and people I’d seen, and so many were hung up on gender, acting as if love and sex was always about procreation. Even with their gender biases here, Seldatians didn’t give homosexuality a single thought.
An inrush of air in the crowd, a collective gasp, took my attention from Hann. The Master stood at the telescope, but not bent over it. Scores of brilliant, tiny birds hovered around him, lighting upon him, making swift and darting circles. They looked like Earth’s hummingbirds, but even smaller. Some of them were no bigger than my pinkie nail, but even the largest were no bigger than a thimble. They had beaks so fine, long, and sharp that their name seemed self-evident. The air positively throbbed with the rapid force of their wings, which moved exactly as a hummingbird’s would, as far as I could tell. They were silvery blue or silvery yellow, and the tiniest ones were a silvery green.
His face as immobile and solemn as a priest’s, the Master held his arms straight out at his sides, spreading all his fingers. The birds lit upon him to every centimeter of purchase, and he went stock still to oblige them. In seconds he was completely covered in Needle-Lights, even his face, but he didn’t move at all.
And then, the birds began to lift up, looping over, around, through, between, high and low, long, delicate strands of transparently fine silver trailing from their bodies. Others darted in, their viciously sharp beaks rending his svond to pieces while their brethren replaced his garment with one of their own design and making.
I’d seen a lot of strange and wonderful things in my time, but I’d never seen birds act as weavers, or birds that produced silk, or even tiny birds like this that weren’t afraid of larger creatures. I was very, very open to the incredible, the fantastic, the magical, while possessing a mind that desired scientific explanation. I could see no scientific explanation in this; just like I couldn’t find a logical, technical reason the Master and I had been selected for an elemental bestowment.
In less than four minutes the Master stood before us in a raw silk, glowing cheongsam, and the absolute radiance of its silver and white construction caught the sunset like a blaze. The birds came back, and the Master, smiling in fascinated pleasure that would prove obvious to the most ignorant, tried to pet each and every bird with a single finger, his strokes patiently light and painstakingly careful.
It took thirty minutes exactly for him to touch every Needle-Light. They burst from him like Earthen quail, their buzzing wings the only sound around us. The garment they’d made him was already dry, and caught a breeze that made the hem lift and ripple like a scarf tossed to a hurricane. Everyone assembled got a long, lingering look at his strong, muscled legs.
He hadn’t reacted badly to anything about this strange happening, not even once, not in any way.
The Master departed the tower, and I quickly fell into step behind him. The gathered people descended with us only as far as the third landing before dispersing in silence. In less than a minute he and I occupied his quarters, and he started examining his ethereal, lovely garment. “That was worth every argument, ill-will, frustrated impotence and instability I’ve encountered,” he declared softly. “Did you see them, Doctor? They were beautiful, pliable little things. All of them together didn’t weigh nineteen ounces.”
“I saw,” I assured, my voice equally soft and sober. “Your affinity to Fire and Air drew them to you, I guess.” I had to wonder, though. Hann’s story said that pure grief drew the Needle-Lights. Was the Master grieving? How would I know unless he said so?
“Help me take this off,” he said lifting his arms. “I don’t want to snag it on something. It couldn’t be more valuable if it was made of souls.”
“That’s a disgusting analogy.” I carefully lifted the shoulders portion up so he could duck under. The feel of the garment was unbelievable. “What will you do with this? Is there another occasion you could wear it, even?”
Naked, the Master carefully took his precious clothing and put it on the bed. He hadn’t a care for his state, apparently, but I thought I might be distracted by such a miraculous little bundle of silk, too.
He really had a nice arse.
I got one of his odd, masculine sarongs out of the closet, whipped it around his waist and tied it off. He didn’t even notice.
“I suppose I could wear it when visiting the temple, but that would be a bit much,” he finally answered. “It’s one thing to witness a religious miracle, and quite another to rub it in people’s faces.” He touched the vibrant, shimmery silk carefully, smiling a little. “I’m not a modest man, you know, but… Well, when birds clothe you, you have to take notice.”
Yeah, I supposed so.
I took one of his heavier, wooden hangers from the closet, and a svond I’d never seen him choose. Silk is harder to rip than you’d think, so I got his scissors and cut the svond into strips to wind around the hanger. It took less than a few minutes to accomplish. I handed it over.
The Master jerked a little. He hadn’t been paying the slightest bit of attention to my activity. But, he understood in a flash what I intended. Smiling his approval, he hung his Needle-Light gift on the padded hanger and put it on the open door of the wardrobe so he could look at it. “I suppose I really can’t wear it again,” he said. “It’s lovely, too. Such a shame.”
“You could donate it to the temple,” I suggested. “That’s tasteful. It would remind people of their faith and their emperor without being ostentatious.”
“Yes, that’s a good idea, Doctor,” he murmured. He sighed then. His eyes, so dark and intent, lifted up to mine. “Why do you think the birds made this for me? All that elemental stuff makes for good stories, but what’s the nature of it all?”
I shook my head. “Maybe they thought you needed the lightness of air. You, like me, are pretty heavy wading.”
The Master smiled just a bit. “Yeah,” he said simply.
**
A pillow hit me in the face. I groaned and rolled to face the balcony, seeing the Master standing there, smiling broadly. He had on a white svond today, and I didn’t think he realized how see-through it was. Or, maybe he did. With him, who knew? “What?” I asked, drawing the word out to three seconds in my groggy irritability.
“I feel like going shopping,” he announced. “Unfortunately, we’ll have to take a contingent of guards with us. Can’t be helped, I suppose.” He reached down and grabbed my big toe, giving it a wiggle. “Get up. I promise to take you somewhere you can pile up your pockets with sweets.”
I made to roll out of bed, got hung on something, and flopped onto the floor. “Ow!”
“Oh, sorry.” The Master pulled a knot of sheets away from my arm, revealing I was tied to the bedpost by my wrist. “Kept you from wandering off, though. One would think that meant you’d wake up rested. Instead, you look like hammered shite.”
“Thanks,” I grumbled. I hadn’t felt him tie me up, which meant he’d done it while I slept pretty hard. “Let me clean up first.”
“I wouldn’t dream of putting you on my arm in your current state,” he said, rolling his eyes.
I dragged into the bathroom and got cleaned up fairly fast. I was getting really good at putting on the eyeliner. Two swipes over and under each eye, actually. I grinned at my reflection. Okay, clean teeth.
“Doctor!”
“I’m coming!” I shouted back. I took one last look at myself and quitted the opulent room of hygiene. The Master was on the balcony, not standing at the door with a tapping foot. As I approached I saw a Needle-Light had taken perch on his shoulder. It was the only one, and indigo silver.
“She’s by herself,” the Master said. “I came out here to assess the horrible Vine of Strife, and she landed on me.” He put out a finger and the bird instantly lit upon it. “Doesn’t she know I’m a cat?”
“I’ve seen birds make friends with cats,” I said. “There are really not as many natural enemies in the cosmos as people think.”
“Well, she’s beautiful,” the Master replied, holding her close to his face. “Like a hummingbird, too.”
The Needle-Light hopped back onto his shoulder and stayed there. She stayed there while he strapped on a rapier and put on shoes, and rode him all the way down to the ground floor. She stayed on him as we got in the carriage, and even appeared to settle. The Master and I exchanged a glance, then. “What does she want?” He asked quietly.
“Hummingbirds like sugary liquid, so maybe that’s what she’s waiting for,” I said.
“We’ll stop at the first sweets shop, then,” he decided, appearing to relax a little.
The Master would have garnered attention despite the bird, because he was the emperor and no doubt word had spread about the Needle-Lights making him a garment, but absolutely everyone who came into contact with us stopped to stare. I supposed we made a spectacle, at that. There was the charismatic Master of All Matter, an exceptionally rare bird on his shoulder, and me, the believed ideal of masculine beauty here on Seldatia, on his left arm.
In the candy store, the Master bought a bag of syrups stored in beeswax, or the equivalent. You were supposed to put them between your teeth and smash the edible shell to make the liquid burst in your mouth. The Master and I settled at a table and he patiently held up the small confectionaries so the bird could pierce them and drink. She loved the things, too.
My hearts swelled at seeing the Master taking care of such a tiny, seemingly insignificant little thing. He’d have no more done this in his past than deliberately get dirty. His enjoyment of the Needle-Light was obvious and uncontrived, too, and the people that covertly watched us were smiling.
He bought another three bags of the odd desserts, then ordered something for me. I enjoyed the strange, vanilla-like cake a lot, but secretly had a yen for good old Earth tiramisu. I wondered if he’d ever had it. If not, I’d take him to get the finest one day.
We traveled on to the temple so he could give his garment up as an offering. The bird stayed with us. The group of elderly men that maintained the temple saw us coming, and lined up to greet their emperor. They saw the garment in his hands and the bird on his shoulder, and prostrated their old bones despite the Master’s wishes they get up.
Their lilting jumble of language wasn’t TARDIS-translating at all well, but I believed the Master understood them perfectly. He put the diaphanous svond into the trembling hands of the chief elder. “For Air,” he said in the more common dialect here. “Perhaps, if the Elements favor me, I might be able to add Fire.”
“My Lord Emperor, there is Holy Fire at the top of Mount Gherza,” the man said, bowing his head afterward. “My father brought it here when I was just a boy, but also he bore the disgrace of letting it die.”
The Master’s eyebrows lifted. “An accident?”
“He suffered a strange ailment of the head and collapsed dead atop the fire,” the elder admitted. “It would not burn him, as he was a dedicated and faithful worshipper, but allowed itself to burn out.”
“Indeed?” The Master stroked the Needle-Light as he appeared to think. “This is a dangerous journey, I take it?”
“It is almost invariably fatal,” the old man answered. “The other Elements jealously guard the holy flame. The trees will strike you, the streams rise up to drown, the Air grows dense and choking. My father only succeeded because he believed in their power and had the greatest respect.”
The Master nodded slowly. “I will go and get the Holy Fire,” he announced. “May I have a map?”
I didn’t think I’d ever seen such scrambling, especially in the elderly. In mere moments the Master had a scroll case full of maps, and the old men were adding their knowledge verbally, even if only in the form of legends and hearsay. When he finally broke away, he looked more than a little surprised.
“Perhaps I was hasty,” he said to me lowly as we got in the covered cart.
“Well, maybe, but you and I together should be able to do anything,” I replied.
“I’m supposed to go alone,” he pointed out. “If I do go, I must have you at the palace anyway. You’ll keep things running smoothly and the way I want them.”
I felt a childish pout coming on and did everything possible to stop it. I didn’t want him away from me, firstly. Secondly, it was an adventure. But, I supposed he was right. The both of us being away might cause trouble. There still might be trouble when word got out he was gone…
**
- 16
- 17
- 18
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Lapidary