first_timelord: (watching time)
I found myself watching Clair the other night.

Watching people is what I've done for centuries, after all. Observing people and events ... from huge battles to the everday ins and outs of a random being. There's a kind of stillness to it, a kind of introspection. It starts one thinking.

And tonight, watching Clair with her child and her husband, that great galumphing dog on her feet and that three-legged cat on the back of their sofa, I started thinking ... about the past, about what I'd lost--what everyone had lost.

For centuries, there were no children on Gallifrey. Now it might sound like a misopaedist's paradise, but to me there was nothing bleaker. There was no renewal, only continuation. Those born of the Loom, already wearing adult bodies, were kept hidden during the period of their brainbuffing and education until they were ready to join society.

Laughter had almost completely vanished from the world. They give us laughter, you know, children. They give us joy and wonder and simple happiness at experiencing the world around them. And for centuries Gallifrey was a world without laughter, without joy and wonder and simple happiness.

And then it was snuffed out ... just as it was beginning to regain these things.

Sometimes I long to hold the tiny girl I see nestled so comfortably in her father's arms.

Just for a few moments.

Just to remind me what it was like.

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first_timelord: (Default)
Rassilon

September 2012

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