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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
- 5
- 6
- 7
Even speed reading didn’t get me finished until the wee hours of the morning. I dragged back to the Master’s bedroom, honest fatigue making me move with clumsiness. As silently as possible I opened the door and slipped in. The moonlight showed me his form and the forms of all his cats. They littered the bed around him. One slept on him, actually. I identified her as the pack Alpha as I wormed my way into the bed and fought for some blankets.
Cherzo rolled off the Master and investigated me a few minutes, sniffing my hair and hands before asking to be petted with a head butt. I obliged her, feeling calm in my sleepiness. She was as soft as silk, and purred nicely. “You’re very agreeable,” I whispered. “Cuddly.”
The cat made a snorting sound and went to curl up at the foot of the enormous bed. I closed my eyes and drifted on waves of ever lessening consciousness. The room was perfectly dim, smelled like the Master’s natural copal scent, and was just cool enough to warrant the heavy, comfy blankets.
A slice of moonlight fell on the Master’s face. At rest he looked so approachable and innocent. I reached out and touched his shoulder. His eyes opened and he turned his head to look at me. “I finished,” I said. “May I apologize again?”
The Master gave me a long, slow, heavy blink. “I forgave you hours ago,” he informed, not a trace of dishonesty in his delivery. “I know who and what you are, Doctor; just go to sleep.”
His declaration made me feel better, but I wasn’t quite satisfied. I moved closer, getting a satisfying wave of his unusually good, heady scent in the process. I met his sleepy eyes and gave him a little smile. “I don’t want you to excuse my trespasses,” I explained. “I only want you to understand that I didn’t make things more difficult simply for the sake of making things difficult.”
The Master blinked exactly three times as he assimilated my words, but he didn’t appear to have gained much more awareness than what he started with. “It never occurred that you would,” he assured softly. “Really, Doctor, just go to sleep. Everything’s fine, I swear.”
I nodded and got comfortable again. The Master’s eyes shut once more, and he fell back asleep in seconds. Soon, I joined him in dreamland.
**
When I woke, the cats were gone and the Master was sitting up beside me in bed, a heavy silvery tray laden with food between us and a version of a newspaper spread out for reading. “Thanks to your determination to share my bed, my lesser advisors have quit pestering me about a harem,” he informed, not turning from his news. “So, I suppose I should be grateful to you,” he went on, bringing his arms in to turn a page. “You’re not what I’d normally use as arm candy, but I suppose if I teach you how to comb your ridiculous hair and dress you properly, you won’t be too much of an embarrassment.”
I levered upward and served myself tea. “Are you serious?” I said, using his same, level tone of voice, “I’m a great catch. People all over the cosmos are gagging in envy at your accomplishment.”
The Master closed his eyes and let his head drop back for a grin. He relaxed his arms and let the newspaper crumple up in his lap. “Oh, that’s good,” he praised. “Additionally, what you said was likely very true.” He threw the paper to the foot of the bed and got a cup of tea for himself, his hands expertly manipulating the sugar tongs to sweeten the brew. “You aren’t too eye-jarring to wake up to, either. A familiar presence, anyway, just not a presence I’m accustomed to seeing on a pillow beside of mine.” He stirred and added a thin line of rich cream to the black tea. “Then, there’s the fact I don’t have to dumb down my words.”
“Pillow talk isn’t normally very loquacious,” I argued. This was good, good tea, and perfectly brewed. “What sort of tea is this?”
“Another transplant from my TARDIS,” the Master answered without answering. “You like it?” He took the cover off a server to reveal a heap of flathberries and something that smelled like oatmeal. “These people took to tea immediately, which was a saving grace. I didn’t have the heart to murder them after seeing their enthusiasm.” He got himself a bowl of the hot cereal, strewed berries all over the top of it, and began eating in earnest.
Knowing he hadn’t intended to murder these people from the start made his declaration at least partially funny. I didn’t like joking about killing, but I, too, knew who and what he was.
I served myself some breakfast and we silently watched the sun creeping over the foggy, rolling hills of silvery grey. Birds swooped around the window, making a pretty show and even giving us music. The slight, cool breeze of morning smelled of something powerfully sweet, like honeysuckle. I heard women singing very far off, and occasional laughter. I realized I didn’t want to immediately get up and find something to do, and that gave me pause. Was it possible I found it peaceful enough here to calm down a bit? It seemed promising.
As I reached for the teapot I had a second realization. Long, long ago in a galaxy far, far away, the Master had asked me to rule the universe at his side. I’d refused. I didn’t need to rule anything or anyone. Yet, here I was, helping him rule a planet. I’d agreed because he’d shown some positive change, and seemed to be getting control of himself through smaller domination. Thinking he’d tricked me neatly, I stole a glance at him sideways.
The Master didn’t currently have The Smug. He appeared to be enjoying the morning the same as I. In this diffused light his skin glowed with health and vitality. His coffee-and-pine eyes serenely gazed over the vista, quietly alert. I hoped beyond hope that I hadn’t walked into a trap of his making, because right now he simply radiated with his own, peculiar brand of beauty, and I didn’t want it taken away from me. Charismatic, forceful, indomitable Master, sitting at ease in a bed and having his breakfast at leisure, with me; that hadn’t ever happened before.
“I want you to be all right,” I heard myself say.
The Master blinked and turned his head to refocus upon me. “Of course you do,” he told me softly. “You’re the Doctor.”
It was a poignant moment, though I couldn’t pin down exactly why. Suddenly, I felt absolutely shy, and that almost never happened.
The Master tilted his head, considering me with fresh focus. “The man who makes people better,” he mused as he looked into me. “And, you really live up to that as much as you can, don’t you?”
“I don’t see a need for suffering,” I admitted. I felt like I weighed thousands of pounds. I hoped he wasn’t mesmerizing me. As good as he was with that skill he might be able to do it without my even knowing he did.
“Suffering isn’t always negative. It sheds contrast. One needs contrast to appreciate the opposite of suffering, you know.” He looked out the window. “Take this view for instance. If I hadn’t spent centuries trapped in a black hole, this wouldn’t be as nice, would it?”
“How could you ever get out of a black hole?” I asked, sitting straight up in surprise.
The Master shrugged in a manner that suggested it wasn’t as casual as projected. I didn’t know how I knew that, either, but accepted my grasp of body language, and his body language in particular. “It’s not worth a retelling, Doctor; I tried everything. By the time something succeeded in granting my freedom, I was insane with desperation. I don’t even remember what I did, now.” He poured another cup of tea and sipped it, his movements economical, graceful. “I like to say I’m a genius, but that experience tested me a bit.”
“I’d imagine.” I got up and cleared the tray to make it easier for him to get out. If he didn’t want to talk about his experience, nothing would move him to change his mind. “What’s on our agenda today?”
“I need to tour the poorer provinces and discern what needs done,” he informed, getting up as well. “I have money in the coffers for renovation, and should decide if the aqueduct is more important than better housing. It’s possible that sanitation would prove a better first step than a housing overhaul.” He set his cup and saucer on his desk, right on the very edge, and went to his closet. “My own sanitation is paramount, though.”
“A bath?” I asked. I didn’t want to get in the tub with him again. The last time had ended up making me feel funny. “You’re on your own.”
“Oh, you trust me that far?” The Master smiled as he began choosing his clothing.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I want to.”
His hands stilled. Sighing, the Master grabbed a few articles of black and shut his closet. “I’d get peevish over it, but we both know I really can’t.”
“’Course you could. But, you aren’t.” I dragged a hand over my wrinkled clothes in an attempt to straighten out. “Do I really have to change clothes every day to be seen with you?”
“Yes, you do,” the Master told me firmly. “Tonight my tailor will pay us a visit, and I expect you to cooperate with her.” He went into his loo and shut the door.
Haphazardly, I sifted through his closet. There was a long, white svond trimmed in dark grey. “Do I have to wear a nightgown?” I asked the universe. Of course, I received no answer. So, I tried the thing on and looked at myself. It reminded me of scholar’s robes on Gallifrey, actually, without all the annoying, gaudy frills. I refused to wear sandals, however, and put my red Converse back on. I didn’t like having my bits hanging free, either.
“Not bad,” the Master said. I looked at him in the mirror, admitting only to myself that it did restore order to my universe to see him in solid black. He stood beside me and straightened my collar with absent precision. “I suppose I should put a ring or bracelet on you, though. Maybe an earring…”
“I don’t like jewelry,” I said firmly.
“All right, then.” He took up my discarded trousers and fished out my TARDIS key. I held my breath, waiting for him to seize it for himself, but he crossed to a small box and took out a silver chain, threading my key upon it. He came back and hung it around my neck. “No objections to wearing your key, I hope.” With that, he got his own TARDIS key from the same small box, put it on a chain and hung it around his own neck. They looked nearly identical even though he had a more advanced model machine.
“Hmm,” he mused. He reached out and took my key, then exchanged it for his. “These people have seen my key, so this should do,” he said.
“You’re going to have to show me your TARDIS in order to wear my key around,” I pointed out. “Also, is it really a requirement to stamp your ownership upon me?”
The Master smiled as he slid on a pair of low, black cloth shoes. “Absolutely to both; I’ll take you to my TARDIS right now if it chaffs you that much.”
“Oh, this’ll be new,” I said.
Again the Master smiled, this time with appreciation. “Indeed,” he replied. “Need to do anything before we go?”
“Brush my teeth,” I said.
“Go to it, then, Doctor.”
I found a new toothbrush made of stiff hair and wood, and grimaced. But, after using it a moment I concluded it did a better job than a synthetic one. I washed my face, made use of the facilities, washed my hands and finger-combed my hair. I looked presentable. Why couldn’t I be arm candy? He’d insulted me, there. This face and body were just fine. Skinny, but fine.
Once I exited we went down to the main rooms. The Master ordered a cart for us, which relieved me greatly. We met it in the courtyard and got in, and to my displeasure we picked up a large contingent of armed guards. I didn’t say anything, though. I knew they were necessary, and the emperor wasn’t allowed to travel long distances without people guarding him.
I noticed I was getting the same, careful attention the Master got, now, though I didn’t know if that was because I’d become his justiciar or because he’d deliberately set things up to make his subjects think I was his boy toy. It was just like him to make a subtle dig at me like that, too. He may, may be attempting to reform, giving up his more violent and painful attitudes toward me, but he couldn’t stop altogether.
His TARDIS had taken the form of a very large stone. I felt relieved it even existed, and couldn’t even think about his working Chameleon Circuit. We got out, he ordered his men to stay, and he led me around the back of the machine. “Go on, open the door,” he prompted, flicking the key dangling around my neck. “I have a lot to do today and can’t get anything done if you think I’ve maneuvered things into getting the key to your time machine.”
Feeling embarrassed and defiant, I pushed the key into a likely slot and opened the door. His control room was decorated in muted grey and a sort of pinkish hue, like a Zero Room. I felt interested in his controls configurations, but thought better of it. To the Master’s men we’d disappeared behind a large rock together, and the more time we spent here the more suspicious it looked. “Okay,” I relented. “You have a TARDIS. I’m satisfied.”
“Wonderful.” The Master exited and I followed. He shut the door and gave me a hard look. “I’m not the liar, you know,” he said. “I misdirect, set traps, let you infer things, but I’ve rarely outright lied to you.”
“You’re splitting hairs,” I insisted, keeping my voice low as we returned to his men, and going a bit farther by using our shared tongue, too. “You’ve gone well out of your way to humiliate, trap, maim, or crush me outright, so you don’t get to be snooty over my suspension of belief.”
“Drive on,” he told our coach as he settled down into the compartment and shut the doors for our privacy. “That may be true, Doctor, but I feel the way I feel, and that’s that.”
“What, I’m supposed to be more dependable, more merciful?” I asked, really getting into readiness for a good blow.
“Yes,” the Master burst out, his face now drawn in irritation. “Yes to both, Doctor.”
“Well, if you really want to prove they haven’t ruined you, you’re going to have to learn those qualities yourself,” I shot back, unimpressed with his truthfulness. “Really, I’d think you’d go out of your way to become everything they professed to be and failed to achieve; all those morals and supposed charity weren’t all that tight, were they? So, to prove better, you’d have to become better.”
The Master turned in the bench to fix me with eyes positively snapping in anger. “What the hell do you think I’m doing here?” he asked. “Taking a holiday? Slumming? Getting a touch of sun and salt breeze?”
I drew back, more than a little stunned. In a split second I had to admit he’d gotten off to a good start with the very things I’d suggested. I’d been so worried he’d stop attempting positive change that I hadn’t fixated on his general direction with it.
“Your problem is you’re a hypocrite,” the Master continued, his voice now very low. “You want to talk about how the Time Lords held others up to standards they couldn’t achieve themselves?” He cut his words off and pressed his back firmly against the padded seat, not looking at me anymore, but he didn’t have to finish what he’d been about to say. He’d made his point very clear.
I perpetually felt like I wronged him, and I thought maybe now I knew why. Because, I’d hated that I had company in being a renegade while having none of the companionship. I imposed my morals upon him and resented his freedoms. But, his freedoms had been costly, as had mine. And, I really was a hypocrite.
Depressed, I slumped down in the seat and looked at our feet. He’d shed his shoes and I stared at his well formed arches and shapely toes. He was so elegant. Even as an unhinged maniac he remained elegant. It seemed to dwell in his very soul, and implied such artistic things. Artists are supposed to be mad, aren’t they? The good ones, anyway.

**
The Master insisted upon getting out of his cart the moment we entered the middle of this slum. Nervously, his guards circled, their weapons facing out in case any of the rapidly approaching populace decided to become violent. I suspected they’d seen riots before, probably in the employ of the previous emperor. But, their new ruler wasn’t a bit perturbed by the muttering, curious mob. He slouched against his cart and waited, and I realized he was stalling for the maximum amount of people to attend whatever little speech he’d planned. I waited with him, hoping this didn’t blow up in our faces. I’d had plenty of experience with this sort of thing, and it never turned out exactly the way one thought it should.
The moment we had a real crowd, the Master climbed onto the cart and pulled himself up to the top of it, motioning me to follow. He wasn’t excluding me out of ill humor. I obliged and got up there to stand beside him.
“I am your new emperor,” the Master said with no preamble. “You probably recognize me, and you’ve probably heard a rumor that I’m an alien.”
The people began murmuring louder between themselves, but no one spoke up.
The Master smiled and looked around a moment, giving them time.
“We’ve heard,” a man said, coming forth. He was dressed in a long, tattered red svond that nevertheless looked clean. He had a lot of whitened facial hair, and aged skin, but his eyes were as blue as Earth’s sky. “We’ve also heard you took the throne without any violence, and that you intend to educate our women.”
“Is there a problem with that?” The Master asked seriously, not a touch of sarcasm in his tone though I knew he held a lot of contempt for the uselessness of base sexism. “I mean, what does it benefit everyone for the females to stay at home and raise children when they might be better suited to paying work?” He gazed out over the crowd a moment, letting them think. “Paying work that will lift you all from poverty,” he added.
The man who’d stepped forward nodded slowly. “It is an interesting line of thought,” he conceded. “However, jobs are scarce now. What will happen if women begin seeking the work, too?”
“You have an issue with a woman supporting you?” The Master parried. “Some of you men wouldn’t enjoy staying at home to raise your children, to guide their growth to adulthood, to be able to give them a man’s counsel whereas before they only had their mother’s opinions?”
Oh, the diabolical nature of the fiend. I grinned inwardly, having to work hard at keeping my face neutral. The Master was arguing with them on their level. He wasn’t throwing orders, but persuading, and I didn’t know of a more persuasive creature than him.
“It is a point,” the man said. “How do you propose that we fund the schooling for all our children, my emperor, when some of us are not even able to educate our sons?”
The Master put his hands behind his back and took his stare over everyone in range again before settling back on the unofficial spokesperson. “I believe education should be funded by The State, and not private citizens,” he said. “Therefore, I am taking the money exchange away from learning. Don’t you agree learning should be free?”
“Yes, but how will The State accomplish funding the education of so many children?” The man asked. “There are few learning houses in our sector, and our children cannot walk furlongs in order to attend the ones outside it.”
“Ah, I’m glad you asked…?”
“Zaeus,” the man supplied helpfully.
“Planet of the Apes!” I burst out before I could stop myself, and the Master shot me a threatening look. “Sorry,” I said quickly. But really, how could I have helped that one?
“Zaeus,” the Master repeated. “Well, Zaeus, I thought perhaps the state coffers, which are filled with tax money collected by the old emperor, could be used to build more schools. And, that the work of building them would boost our economy.”
“And afterward?” Zaeus asked.
“There would be a lag in between the certification of more teachers and the schools being completed, of course,” the Master said. “But, I believe it will be worth it.”
The crowd began talking at a higher volume, with excitement. Zaeus crouched to speak to a little girl, a relative if I was any judge of genetics. The Master leaned closer to me and spoke without looking away from everyone. “They love to learn, so I thought this might cement things,” he whispered.
“Our females and males would attend together?” Zaeus asked upon straightening. “It seems an idea that would eventually cause a loosening of restraint. Also, some grown men cannot be trusted with young girls. It is a sad but true fact.”
“Some grown men cannot be trusted with young boys,” the Master pointed out. “Do we stop education because of risk? Is ignorance a better pastime?”
Again came the heated murmuring. The Master let it continue on for quite awhile before interrupting. “All living things must change and adapt in order to survive,” he lectured, and my eyes were drawn to his open but firm body language. He kept his arms away from his body, his chest out, and his shoulders back. “You cannot deny that things are miserable here the way they currently stand. Are your traditions more important than education and opportunity?” He pinned Zaeus with his eyes, then. “What are you trained for, Zaeus?” He asked. “You’re obviously accustomed to some degree of leadership.”
“I was the last emperor’s event planner and secondary advisor,” Zaeus admitted, “before he threw me out for an unavoidable offense during the Harvest Festival.”
“Unavoidable offense?” The Master asked leadingly.
“I… my men allowed a Suri dissident to slip past security, and an attempt was made on the emperor’s life.” Zaeus bowed his head, and I knew he felt shame over the perceived disgrace.
“I see.” The Master looked down and noticed the child standing beside of Zaeus. “Is that your granddaughter, Zaeus?”
“She is,” Zaeus said quickly, putting his wrinkled hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Her name is Alair.”
The Master nodded. “Why don’t you and Alair come to the palace with me?” He asked. “I will provide you with shelter and food, even work.”
“You would hire a disgraced old man and allow his small charge a place in your home?” Zaeus’ eyebrows soared upward. “Such is not helpful to the status of a new emperor, my lord.”
“Who am I trying to impress?” The Master asked. “I want results, not gossip, useless sexism, poverty and disease among the people.” He jumped down, making me scramble to follow suit. “I’m putting these issues to the vote,” he said loudly to the populace. “Spread the word. I’ll return in two days to set up determination tables, and every man and woman will cast their ballot.”
“Women too?” A teenaged girl close by gasped.
“Women, too,” the Master said. “If I return and I don’t see women among the voters, there will be hell to pay. That is a promise.”
- 5
- 6
- 7
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