Sep. 25th, 2006

first_timelord: (time)
That night, Rassilon returned to Clair's lab, Kiam accompanying him.

He'd slept in worse places. And stranger. Granted, it'd been ages since he'd slept in a place with so many animals about, and with a baby, as well. But that wasn't an unpleasant thing.

When he finally went under, the room cool and Kiam warm and still beside him, he dreamt of home again. But the long streets and soaring arches and shining beds of roses were replaced, this time, by the inside of a home. The decor was light-coloured, airy, the walls seeming to be more window than anything else. Sprays of plants lingered near the windows, which sat open.

He sat in a chair on something of a verandah, looking out over a misted early-morning landscape that indicated the house stood atop a high hill.

Movement caused him to look, and the same young woman he'd likened Clair to appeared in the doorway. Her hair was down and she wore a voluminous robe over what appeared to be some kind of light nightwear. Seen in the early morning light, the differences were a little more obvious--her eyes were the same emerald green as her father's, her small features looked young and strong and optimistic, her form curved more than Clair's ever had.

She handed him a cup of sweet tea and sat on the verandah next to the chair with a cup of her own. "You were up all night again, weren't you, Father?" she asked quietly.

"Whatever gave you that idea?"

"You never see the sun rise any other time," she chided him gently.

He laughed softly at that. "You know me too well." He sipped the tea, letting the taste of the herbs linger for a moment.

"Will you be well enough to go out to-day?" she asked after a long pause.

"I don't know," he answered softly. "But even if I can't, don't feel as though you have to stay like a fussy old nanya."

She bit her lip, then leaned her head against his leg. "I made a promise. No, more than that. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if something happened to you and I wasn't here to stop it."

"Ilyana...." he sighed, running his fingers over her hair. "Look what I've done to you. Kept you here instead of at the Academy ... looking after a foolish old man instead of living your own life."

"Father, you know I can go back to the Academy when the next segment starts. I'm not worried about that. It's you I'm worried about. You remember what the physician said. You flatlined your neural pulse when--" she broke off, a troubled expression flickering across her features.

"Yes, I know," he answered softly, barely above a whisper. His fingers continued to run lightly over her hair. She watched his gaze fix on the past again. After a moment, she sucked in a breath and sighed as though to blow away all the throughts that troubled her. She stood and leaned over him, kissing his head, lips pressed against deep red hair for a moment.

"Breakfast still needs fixed, at any rate," she said with a soft smile, and walked back in through the door, disappearing from view, leaving him gazing into the past.

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Rassilon

September 2012

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