![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
alltimeandspace.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
who_contestTitle: Still Striving for the Sky
Rating: PG
Genre: angst, introspection
Word Count: 764
Characters: Ainley!Master, OFC
Summary: The Master finds his view of the universe questioned
Notes: Takes place in the same 'verse as One Last Soul, only this is long before that and answers the question of just who's TARDIS Seren had traveled in. This fic is part of a much longer story-in-progress.
When his third utterance of her name gets as much response as the first two, the Master turns from the console with a huff. She's at the window, gazing off into forever, and the expression on her face...
He thinks he might have watched the universe with such wonder, once. He knows he's not always been this hard, this angry. A memory teases the edge of his mind. A face he seeks to forget. There is a reason he does not take passengers.
She blinks and glances around. Winces. “Sorry.”
“Yes, probably.” He pokes a button on the console. “Do try to pay attention.”
“I was.” She wanders over and casually throws a lever. “Space is distracting.”
“Don't touch the controls,” the Master says, also not for the first time. He tries not to notice how the TARDIS seems to fly better at her command. “And if it distracts you so much, I suggest that you don't look.”
Her gaze is piercing. “Is that what you did – stop looking?”
He glowers. “This is not a conversation you wish to have.”
“Or you'll threaten me with your TCE again? That was so terribly effective last time.” She circles the console to her left and turns a dial. The TARDIS hums. “When did you last look, Master? For all you have time and space at your beck and call, you still live so small.”
The Master stares at her. Anger surges and chokes him. She shakes her head a little.
“Every star,” she says, and there is so much reverence in her voice. Her expression is awe and wonder and something inside him shifts. The anger drains to leave him empty. “Just look at them.”
His gaze moves to the window without conscious thought. Purple and red swirls, the nebula glittering as it shifts. Thousands of stars. Suns. Worlds. Moons. He knows all the names, though it's been so long since he considered them that it takes a moment to recall. His gloved hand lifts and rests on the glass. The odd sensation in his gut spreads.
The universe has been little more than a tool for a very long time. Something that requires his control, because if he commands it, then it cannot shift and change and die. He's witnessed destruction. He's caused destruction. He pretends more lives don't matter when he's already got so much blood on his hands, but it's a lie.
He knows she knows it's a lie.
“How do you see the beauty?” he wonders. “How can you gaze so open-eyed when your world burned?”
A shadow crosses her face. “Because the alternative is worse. If I don't see beauty, if I can't hope for better, then what's the point of it all?” She looks at him and there is pain in her eyes that touches a well hidden part of him. “I could be as angry as you, if I chose. God knows I have the right. But doesn't it make you tired? Doesn't it wear you down?”
The Master says nothing. It's all the answer she needs, he knows.
“I'm still striving for the sky because once it was so beautiful,” she continues, her voice softer. “If I can reach it, if I can fly above the ugliness, I can see all this.”
The Master looks. Lets the anger go and really, properly looks. Out in the nebula, a star is born as another dies. Somewhere a species comes into being as another passes into extinction. It is terrible and beautiful and... wonderful. A weight shifts off his shoulders. He straightens and squares them, filling his lungs with a inhalation that somehow seems freer.
Tired? Yes, he has been, and worn. Hadn't realised just how much until this moment.
A hand curls around his arm. Her smile is a little shy and her eyes glitter as she sees something else. Something he feels now. Connection. There is someone in the universe who understands him and accepts him regardless. Yet still not afraid to show him what he's been missing.
“Fine, you can stay,” he sighs, capitulating to what's been inevitable since they first met. She's far too stubborn. Too much like him. “But I am not calling you a companion.”
Bright laughter fills the TARDIS. A reluctant smile tugs at his mouth. He lets her wind closer, in more ways than one. He glances down at her rapturous expression and then lets his gaze drift back to the universe beyond the window.
It is something to wonder at after all.
Rating: PG
Genre: angst, introspection
Word Count: 764
Characters: Ainley!Master, OFC
Summary: The Master finds his view of the universe questioned
Notes: Takes place in the same 'verse as One Last Soul, only this is long before that and answers the question of just who's TARDIS Seren had traveled in. This fic is part of a much longer story-in-progress.
When his third utterance of her name gets as much response as the first two, the Master turns from the console with a huff. She's at the window, gazing off into forever, and the expression on her face...
He thinks he might have watched the universe with such wonder, once. He knows he's not always been this hard, this angry. A memory teases the edge of his mind. A face he seeks to forget. There is a reason he does not take passengers.
She blinks and glances around. Winces. “Sorry.”
“Yes, probably.” He pokes a button on the console. “Do try to pay attention.”
“I was.” She wanders over and casually throws a lever. “Space is distracting.”
“Don't touch the controls,” the Master says, also not for the first time. He tries not to notice how the TARDIS seems to fly better at her command. “And if it distracts you so much, I suggest that you don't look.”
Her gaze is piercing. “Is that what you did – stop looking?”
He glowers. “This is not a conversation you wish to have.”
“Or you'll threaten me with your TCE again? That was so terribly effective last time.” She circles the console to her left and turns a dial. The TARDIS hums. “When did you last look, Master? For all you have time and space at your beck and call, you still live so small.”
The Master stares at her. Anger surges and chokes him. She shakes her head a little.
“Every star,” she says, and there is so much reverence in her voice. Her expression is awe and wonder and something inside him shifts. The anger drains to leave him empty. “Just look at them.”
His gaze moves to the window without conscious thought. Purple and red swirls, the nebula glittering as it shifts. Thousands of stars. Suns. Worlds. Moons. He knows all the names, though it's been so long since he considered them that it takes a moment to recall. His gloved hand lifts and rests on the glass. The odd sensation in his gut spreads.
The universe has been little more than a tool for a very long time. Something that requires his control, because if he commands it, then it cannot shift and change and die. He's witnessed destruction. He's caused destruction. He pretends more lives don't matter when he's already got so much blood on his hands, but it's a lie.
He knows she knows it's a lie.
“How do you see the beauty?” he wonders. “How can you gaze so open-eyed when your world burned?”
A shadow crosses her face. “Because the alternative is worse. If I don't see beauty, if I can't hope for better, then what's the point of it all?” She looks at him and there is pain in her eyes that touches a well hidden part of him. “I could be as angry as you, if I chose. God knows I have the right. But doesn't it make you tired? Doesn't it wear you down?”
The Master says nothing. It's all the answer she needs, he knows.
“I'm still striving for the sky because once it was so beautiful,” she continues, her voice softer. “If I can reach it, if I can fly above the ugliness, I can see all this.”
The Master looks. Lets the anger go and really, properly looks. Out in the nebula, a star is born as another dies. Somewhere a species comes into being as another passes into extinction. It is terrible and beautiful and... wonderful. A weight shifts off his shoulders. He straightens and squares them, filling his lungs with a inhalation that somehow seems freer.
Tired? Yes, he has been, and worn. Hadn't realised just how much until this moment.
A hand curls around his arm. Her smile is a little shy and her eyes glitter as she sees something else. Something he feels now. Connection. There is someone in the universe who understands him and accepts him regardless. Yet still not afraid to show him what he's been missing.
“Fine, you can stay,” he sighs, capitulating to what's been inevitable since they first met. She's far too stubborn. Too much like him. “But I am not calling you a companion.”
Bright laughter fills the TARDIS. A reluctant smile tugs at his mouth. He lets her wind closer, in more ways than one. He glances down at her rapturous expression and then lets his gaze drift back to the universe beyond the window.
It is something to wonder at after all.
(no subject)
Date: 2015-08-03 08:48 pm (UTC)I know the answer now. *smiles*
(no subject)
Date: 2015-08-03 09:08 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2015-08-11 08:10 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2015-08-14 08:59 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2015-08-12 12:08 am (UTC)It would take a Companion-that-is-not-a-Companion to make him SEE again.
Lovely...
*HUGS*
(no subject)
Date: 2015-08-14 09:05 pm (UTC)Yes, to all this. I didn't know what I was getting into when I started down this path. That it was more like a rabbit hole, heh.
The Companion-that-is-not-a-Companion has an awful lot on her hands.
:D
(no subject)
Date: 2015-08-13 05:46 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2015-08-14 09:05 pm (UTC)