Sweet as Sugar | By : Nemain Category: 1 through F > Doctor Who Views: 11034 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Dr. Who, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Sweet as Sugar Chapter Forty Three
Disclaimers Apply
A/N *sheepish * mea maxima culpa… Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies,
BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta is wondermous
and fantabulous for betaing. J Thanks everyone for poking me to finish
lol.
The Doctor
felt his hearts lurch and wondered, for a brief moment, if this was death. The Master stood over him, eyes hooded in
interest, as Ace secured the manacles to the pillar with it’s
ancient metal ring. “There’s no need for
this,” the Doctor said as calmly as he could manage. “Ace, please…”
“Doctor,”
she murmured, “don’t beg…”
“Yes, Theta,” the Master spat. “Don’t beg…”
He swept his dark gaze around the small chamber before settling it once
more on the Doctor. “You have forgotten
what it is like to be a Time Lord… you were never the best at it, were
you? Reveled in it, suffered for it, but
you never gave it up, this love of the lower life forms, shunning the laws of Rassilon when it became convenient for you.” His long fingers skimmed the Doctor’s jaw,
his smile tightening as the other Time Lord jerked away convulsively. “You know I can see inside you. Don’t fight me.”
“You’re not
a sideshow psychic,” the Doctor snapped.
“I can see inside you just as well.”
He did not fight the manacles around his wrists and ankles but his
defiance was clear as he met the Master’s gaze.
“I know your fear, your hatred… I know your loathing…”
“That is no
secret, no great feat.” He moved past
the Doctor and stood next to Ace, towering over her, his breath stirring the
fine hairs around her face and making her shudder without realizing it. “Fear is as easy to scent as perfume. Hatred is clear as water over stones and
loathing is sweetness to what passes for a soul, feeding it and making it
righteous.” He laced his fingers in Ace’s
hair and tugged her head back, exposing the pale column of her throat. “This one, this little human turned Time Lord…
she is the most transparent of all beings.
Not just her; her entire species.
The Council was shocked when you brought her to us, shocked that you
dared, but they allowed it, allowed her to stay and learn. We knew that she would never be a true Time
Lord, not Gallifreyan born, but we had hoped,
harbored a secret desire that she would be the one, the final…”
“You wanted
her to save the planet,” the Doctor murmured, his body feeling oddly light,
almost giddy. Ace was scared but she was
not showing it; she stood stoic and bland, gazing off into the middle distance,
but he knew her as well as he knew the back of his own hand (well, he amended,
his former hand…this one still surprised him sometimes). He felt it, the strong rebellion within her.
She would fight, no matter what… “You wanted to use her blood, her essence… so
why did you wait?”
“I wasn’t
good enough,” Ace said suddenly, breaking her grim silence. “They tried.
They used drop after drop of my blood, of my tissue.” As she spoke, she held out her right arm to
expose lines of small scars scoring her flesh like a barcode, marking her as a
commodity. “The Loom would not take me.”
The Doctor
felt a moment of detached surprise at that information; the Looms were not
necessarily picky. They would take the
genetic material offered them and combine it, making one perfect strand of
information, one needful thing. “It’s
impossible,” he said after a moment. “The
Loom…”
“The Loom,”
Ace said sharply, her voice firm and loud, “was waiting. Like everything else you Gallifreyans
put out, it’s sentient. Sentient as the
TARDIS,” she added, her gaze flickering a bit with something that the Doctor
almost missed, almost left undefined. Knowledge,
he thought, secrets… she knows something, she has
something in wait, a trap but not… The
Master murmured something to her, susurration that was just below the range of
the Doctor’s hearing, and Ace nodded. “We
begin in a moment. Your trial will start
as soon as the Rani is finished with her demonstration.” As she spoke, the wall before the Doctor
began to lighten and transform into a window overlooking the chamber he had
just been taken from. It was lined with
the hooded figures still, all standing quietly and unmoving around the edges of
the room. Rose had not moved from the
spot where he had last seen her, standing at the dais before the empty space in
the middle of the room, but the Rani was nowhere to be seen. He parted his lips, her name rising in his
throat, tugging at his core, but no sound came forth. “Shhhh,” Ace
urged. “It’ll be quick.”
“What does
that mean?” he snapped, the swirl of anger and panic jolting his hearts
again. He flexed his fingers and wished
he could break the metal that bound him, but did not even try because he knew
how foolish it would be to make a cake of himself before the Master. Ace pressed against his side, surprising him
for just a brief moment before he realized what she was doing. He felt the weight of it against his side as
she laid a hand on his arm, seemingly to force him to pay attention to what was
before him, but he felt it drop in his pocket as she moved, felt the comforting
weight of the sonic screwdriver that had been taken from him at his
capture. She did not look at him, did
not utter a familiar phrase, but rather stared straight ahead, fixated, it seemed, on Rose and her bowed head. He slid a curious glance at Ace and the
Master, finding them both transfixed on the scene. How to reach, he wondered, shifting in his
seat as if trying to get comfortable.
The pocket was just out of finger’s reach, just beyond help… He elbowed Ace subtly but she did not respond, her lips parted and eyes narrowed as the Rani moved
into view, standing behind Rose. She was
talking, but the Doctor could not hear her over the roaring in his ears. He would not need the screwdriver, he
realized with a mixture of horror and keen, prideful fear… Rose looked up,
seeming to see him even secreted as he was, and met his gaze. Her eyes blazed golden, searing bright in the
dimness of the chamber. The Master did
not seem surprised but Ace gasped. “You fools,” the Doctor hissed.
“You’ve killed yourselves!”
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