NLoT: You Can't Go Home Again

[Koschei]

"But spare me the claims that you're tired. That nobody gave you any incentive. That you have no one to pick you up." He chewed the mouthfull of steak, then cracked open the tail of the lobster. "Take what you want. Keep it as long as you can. Or accept that you are prey."

"Love cannot be taken, it is not something you can own and possess. True love, true affection of another is earned and cultivated. Like some fine and rare plant. You cannot force love to bloom, it is impossible. What forms from force is not really love." The Archivist said as she smoothed the fabric on her knee now, she stopped picking at it and looked up at him. A glimmer of something in those sharp bright eyes. She reached up to pull her hair free from it's confines.

"But that is something I do not expect you to understand anymore. It's been many a year since you cultivated anything healthy, hasn't it?"

The Master dipped the meat of the lobster's tail into melted butter, then chewed it with obvious relish. "Define healthy, my dear Archivist. I am no stranger to emotions - certainly, I am no dispassionate observer who remains forever seperated from the observed. And I have known love."

He looked up from his plate, the faintest hint of a sneer on his lips. "But love is simply another emotion. If you choose not to be ruled by your emotions, you can more easily choose how you will react. And then, you can make someone hate you, or envy you, or desire you, or even love you. Whether or not you choose to reciprocate those emotions remains utterly up to you."

[Deleted]

"You misunderstood my words, Master." The Archivist said as she let herself slip back to that old title. Using it almost as an insult, with the way her tonal inflections ran. "What I meant by no one gave me the right incentive was... The TimeLord Council intended to use me as a spy, an information gatherer. But they ended up belaying that thought when they saw what I became after their orders. I had no life or vitality, no reason to want to do what they had told me to do. I only take the same threat once. They made me leave him, under threat of death of those we cared for - including him - that very well wouldn't work again."

She disliked misunderstandings between her and others. She was too intelligent to let such silliness continue to pass. She picked up a small cup, sniffing for a moment. She sent a mental command to the device, as a plate of finely cooked salmon and greens appeared. She ate in relative silence for the next few moments. "I am not like you or Theta." She stated simply, implying that there were things the two were similar in.

"Love is not an emotion I will snag, take... demand. If someone is to love me, it will be of their own accord. More than anything I just want to see others experience what we did. Is that so wrong? To show others the sort of suffering that we experienced as a people. I suppose that makes me almost as bad as the council. My personality twisting into something much darker than others are used to. But for once... I want to see others feel the pain I did. Feel the frustration and loss I did. Is that so wrong?"

[Koschei]

"I am not like you or Theta." She stated simply.

"Clearly," he responded, voice sardonic.

"Love is not an emotion I will snag, take... demand. If someone is to love me, it will be of their own accord."

He shrugged. "Very well, then," he said. "I only offer my own lives' experiences."

"More than anything I just want to see others experience what we did. Is that so wrong? To show others the sort of suffering that we experienced as a people. I suppose that makes me almost as bad as the council. My personality twisting into something much darker than others are used to. But for once... I want to see others feel the pain I did. Feel the frustration and loss I did. Is that so wrong?"

The Master placed fork and knife on the plate, then steepled his fingers in front of him. "Right and wrong. Good and evil. In my experience, Archivist, these are labels used to justify certain behavior. 'Right' is simply the things you wish to justify. 'Wrong' is simply the things you wish to demonize. To know your will, and then to do it... that is the only law worth obeying."

The door opened a trifle, and Verinathalinthia peered in. She still seemed shaken, but clearly had dealt with whatever horror and nausea had swept over her. "I... that is, if you are ready, I am to escort you to the Jade Gate. The Lord President has sent a transport for you."

[Deleted]

The Archivist sat and contemplated his words, losing herself to the intricacies of her own neural networks. Her file storage, the compiling systems she used, the tabs and sub-sections. Everything seemed in mostly working order, but that sound was still buried in her mind. Even as she focused to try to 'turn off' the corrupted file that contained the sound of those maddening drums. Her eyes narrowed, staring ahead at the processing unit before them. She sent a silent command as a tall rather brightly glowing drink was formed in the platform.

She had her food, now she was going to have a drink. "Everything tastes so damn strange, I don't remember fish tasting like this. But at least this drink is still good, I had it once... traveling an outer ring." She said as she sipped the glowing drink. It had a sharply fruity flavor and smell, that slowly muddled itself down to an almost nutty smell and flavor. She swirled her finger around in the glass and then turned her attention to 'The Master'. Not Koschei, not Kos, only 'The Master'. She had to pretend to be a loving partner with him, and that was harder on her hearts than she had ever realized.

"I will not steal love, when it is already in the hands of another. If I cannot get something like that, freely given, it is not worth it. Because once you steal something... you are forever fighting to keep it." She stated simply as she finished the glass and stood up to face the young woman who had returned. "Apologies for my... darlings behaviour. He sometimes forgets that not everyone has lived a simpler, easier, life... " She said as she swept a polite bow in her red garments. Dipped in blood, she was dipped in blood. That darkness danced at the edges of her mind, her heart, and her being.

But would she go over the edge? Would she become what he had once been? Could she punish others, make others feel the way she had felt her entire life? Would that make her feel better? Would it make her forget the pain? She didn't know, but right now she had another duty to do. She had to deal with the situation at hand. "Well than, my love, shall we go adjourn to the Jade Gate?" She said sweetly as she reached out her hand rather politely. There was a strange edge to her words, not something others would understand. There was a coldness, and emptiness almost; it was the darkness in her voice, that edge of madness slowly building, the sounds echoing in her mind.

That sensation in her hearts, that pain in her own mind. The feeling that even if she got back with The Doctor - River - even if all of them were together again, she would have to leave them all again. She didn't think she could be around him again, she didn't think she could bring herself to. Even though she had gotten down on her knees, debased herself, to 'The Lord President' of Gallifrey, she could not bring herself to be around him. Her hopes had soared so high, the day he had held her again. She had cried, so hard, and felt joy like she couldn't have hoped for.

She wasn't going to keep her hopes up any longer, because she could build her own path. She would build her own path. She wanted to be part of the new Gallifrey that the Specialist wanted, but Libby - Libby was essentially dead. Even if The Doctor, or The Master, called her by that name... she could no longer respond to it. She was no longer that woman, at least not right now. She could no longer be that woman, just yet. She needed time to heal, time to rage. She needed time to truly grieve.

[Koschei]

"I will not steal love, when it is already in the hands of another. If I cannot get something like that, freely given, it is not worth it. Because once you steal something... you are forever fighting to keep it."

The Master shrugged a little, indicating with a gesture that it was all one to him. "Life is a struggle anyway," he observed, finishing off his steak. "So, why not fight for what you want? But..."

The door opened a trifle, and Verinathalinthia peered in. She still seemed shaken, but clearly had dealt with whatever horror and nausea had swept over her. "I... that is, if you are ready, I am to escort you to the Jade Gate. The Lord President has sent a transport for you."

The Archivist rose, and the Master rose with her. "Apologies for my... darlings behaviour. He sometimes forgets that not everyone has lived a simpler, easier, life... " She said as she swept a polite bow in her red garments.

The Master offered a shallow bow as well, a sardonic smile on his face. "Indeed. My lives have been... difficult, at times. I forget how sheltered life on the Homeworld may be."

"ah..." Verinathalinthia temporized, hesitating. "Thank you. Are... are you ready?"

He glanced at his companion, who made a graceful gesture and then took his hand. "Well than, my love, shall we go adjourn to the Jade Gate?"

"I believe we shall. We must not keep the Lord President waiting, after all." The smile in his words didn't lighten his eyes. "It would be... rude."

The tension in her mind was nearly audible to his senses as they walked the arboretum paths of the Aesculum. There was a rigidity to her grip, a tightness in her carriage, and turmoil in her thoughts. Clearly, he realized, the Archivist was on the edge of a breakdown. A breakdown, and possibly madness. He would need to watch that.

Because she was a useful ally, he told himself. No other reason. She was just useful. Useful, and nothing more. What had friendship ever accomplished for him, anyway?

Smirking, he realized that he was trying to convince himself.

Their conveyance awaited them beyond the Jade Gate, a glittering thing of golden wheels and wire, propelled by the arcane sciences of Gallifrey. The Master observed it curiously as Verinathalinthia bowed low. "Be well, guests of the House of Healing," she proclaimed formally.

"Be well, Acolyte of the House of Healing," the Master responded, equally formally. then he smiled wickedly. "And do expand on your diet." The Aesculan paled a little but remained otherwise compsed, scoring a flicker of admiration from the renegade. He stepped forward, opening the golden wire door. "After you, my darling," he said, offering his hand to the Archivist.

[Deleted]

There was a strange detachment to the way the woman was acting now. Her inner mind was a completely different thing than the face she was playing. The Archivist was portraying the cheerful, loving, doting, partner, when inside there was a hollow ring to the way she spoke and acted. It was as if her body was merely a false vessel for true intentions and emotions. She nodded her head, smiling sweetly as she slipped her hand into The Master's. She Inclined her head regally, almost ceremonially, towards the Acolyte as she left with The Master to head to the Gate. 

Upon arrival to the gate she swept another polite bow as a goodbye, and looked up at The Master with such a look of adoration it was almost believable. At least it was believable to those that wanted to believe it, but the Master with his direct contact would feel the fact that there was nothing behind those words or actions. It was ice, cool, statically empty within her emotional psionic network. She was hiding her true feelings, behind the mask of what these people wanted to believe. 

Far in the back recesses of her mind a rhythmic pattern began to sweetly whisper to the far back recesses of her psyche. The sort of whisper that is almost like a lovers hand caressing your heart. That beautiful four step pattern, repeating sweetly, serenading, to the recesses of her deepest psyche. It would be a slowly gradual increase, that would continue to serenade to a song of loving madness, a song hypnotic and all too inviting. 

She didn't know why the drumming was such a hypnotic and reassuring pattern, one which brought her to a state of relaxation, and terrifying calmness. "No my love, we mustn't keep 'The Lord President of Gallifrey' waiting. He has been such a gracious host. It has been such a pleasure to experience his 'hospitality'." She said in a sugary tone, dripping with sweetness and complete sincerity. But to The Master he would easily be able to taste the sarcasm and disdain in her tone.

She climbed into the conveyance and then let herself recline, as regally as possible, against the bench on the back side of the carriage. She folded her hands perfectly in her lap, and held the ever regal stance of a Time Lady that knew of Duty and Tradition. 

[Koschei]

The twin suns were low on the eastern horizon, painting the evening sky the color of dark amber as the carriage rolled its way through the Square of the Circle and across one of the bridges that spanned the Caldera. Above the carriage loomed the multiple branches of the Citadel itself, groping towards the heavens like the hand of a blind Titan. The Master looked up and up, eying the structure with interest. "Do you know," he observed, "the last... three times I was here - including our most recent visit - I was brought in chains?"

He lifted his forearms and displayed his wrists, as if it were possible to still see the ghosts of the restraints. "When the High Council first restored me to life during the War, so I could sort out the mess that had been made of Dromid. And then when I approached them to propose the creation of the Skaro Degredations." Leaning back in his seat to obtain a better view, he smirked. "One would almost think they didn't trust me."

Swift, impossible shapes erupted skyward from the chasm - a flight of TARDISes, departing the creches in the Caldera and hurtling outwards into the Spiral Politic on unguessed missions. He watched their trails flicker and dance behind them as ripples echoed outwards from their eleven-dimensional wakes. The sight left him momentarily speechless.

"I wonder," he finally mused aloud as the carriage rolled through three story high doors, "is there really a place for the likes of us on this Gallifrey? And is there really a place for this Gallifrey in our History?"

The carriage came to a halt in a massive hall of grey marble shot through with golden threads, vaulted assymetrical roof supported by titanic pillars. Bootsteps echoed dully as a squad of Chancellory Guardsmen, resplendent in their crimson and ivory uniforms, marched towards them. They formed a double row by the door, and the squad Lieutenant opened the door for them. "My Lord the Master," he said with a bow. "My Lady the Archivist. If you will come with us, the Lord President will receive you in his chambers."

The Master stepped down, then turned and offered the Archivist his hand. "How kind," he observed. "Don't you agree, my dear?"

[Deleted]

The Archivist sat rather serenely, within the carriage. Watching the scenes outside, as they traveled from the Healers area off towards where they would meet 'The Lord President of Gallifrey'. She kept her hands folded in her lap, her eyes scanning the horizon. Her mind absorbing every detail she could say, filing and categorizing it. She was focusing on it, and she found a she focused she could think much better. The sweet sound faded away as she put her complete attention upon the scene around her. There was much to take in, from the general outline of some of the TARDIS fleet that burst to life in and out above them.

The lines and arches, the people that might be wandering around. Her mind running analytical patterns of information. "Well, I suppose all the times you came in chains the council believed it warranted. Though what they believed to be just, was often not the case." The Archivist said as a small subtle twitch beneath her eye revealed exactly how perturbed she was while thinking about the Council and their injustices. "I wonder, if he had the full truth - of what happened here, would he consider the actions just." She whispered as she reached out her hand, holding it up to the light that streamed into the carriage. Her eyes focused on the shape of her outline, as her mind looped for a moment back to that final day.

"I wonder, if he heart the truth - would he believe it... and forgive himself?" She asked as her head cocked and then a small wry smile spread across her lips. "He was never very good at forgiving himself..." She whispered softly and then turned her attention to The Master. The carriage rolled to a stop and she saw the double row of soldiers, she watches as The Master stepped down and she slowly put her small delicate hand within his own. She looked so much like she had, in her first regeneration, though he was far from who he had been. She gave him a sweet smile as she used his hand as a guidance for leaving the conveyance. Her hands gently gathered up her skirts a little, and she slowly lowered herself from the carriage. She took a moment to adjust her crimson skirts and then straightened her back.

"It is quite kind of him." She said sweetly, that fake sweet - that only he could tell through the touch of her hand. Her eyes flashed for a moment as her head cock. "They say you shouldn't meet yourself... a basic rule of Time Travel... but what about interaction with a past Alternate self? How would time react? That would be a fascinating observation for me to behold." The Archivist said as she kept her hand gently resting in his and walked with him down the double row of soldiers. "Home... but not home."

[Koschei]

"Well," the Archivist mused, "I suppose all the times you came in chains the council believed it warranted."

"No doubt they did," the Master allowed, crooking one corner of his mouth in a small smile. "I did, after all, attempt to conquer or destroy Gallifrey more than once. And I assassinated a Lord President. I suspect they were... uncomfortable around me."

"Though what they believed to be just, was often not the case." She said it calmly, but it was the sort of calm that spoke volumes. "I wonder, if he had the full truth - of what happened here, would he consider the actions just."

The Doctor. Of course.

Swift, impossible shapes erupted skyward from the chasm - a flight of TARDISes, departing the creches in the Caldera and hurtling outwards into the Spiral Politic on unguessed missions. He watched their trails flicker and dance behind them as ripples echoed outwards from their eleven-dimensional wakes. The sight left him momentarily speechless.

"I wonder, if he heart the truth - would he believe it... and forgive himself?" She asked as her head cocked and then a small wry smile spread across her lips. "He was never very good at forgiving himself..."

The Master snorted, a harsh sound of derision. "Forgiveness. That always was his weakness." He looked ahead, watching the massive doors open. "Do what you will," he murmured. "Never apologize."

He fell silent for several moments. "I wonder," he finally mused aloud as the carriage rolled through three story high doors, "is there really a place for the likes of us on this Gallifrey? And is there really a place for this Gallifrey in our History?"

The carriage came to a halt in a massive hall of grey marble shot through with golden threads, vaulted assymetrical roof supported by titanic pillars. Bootsteps echoed dully as a squad of Chancellory Guardsmen, resplendent in their crimson and ivory uniforms, marched towards them. They formed a double row by the door, and the squad Lieutenant opened the door for them. "My Lord the Master," he said with a bow. "My Lady the Archivist. If you will come with us, the Lord President will receive you in his chambers."

The Master stepped down, then turned and offered the Archivist his hand. "How kind," he observed. "Don't you agree, my dear?"

The Archivist emerged from the carriage, pausing to adjust her skirts and straighten her back. "It is quite kind of him." She said sweetly. "They say you shouldn't meet yourself... a basic rule of Time Travel... but what about interaction with a past Alternate self? How would time react? That would be a fascinating observation for me to behold."

"If the Meddler was any indication," the Master observed, "time would care little. But I also know that he and his alternate self had to be kept seperated by kilometers, at minimum." He turned, escorting her between the Guardsmen. "Light years were even better."

"Home..." she observed, "but not home."

---

The citadel was as he remembered it - although the last millennia or so of History had been utterly different on this version of the Homeworld, a scant thousand years paled before the aeons that the ancient building had stood. They made their way up and up, walking stairways that led through spacial warps to reduce the number of steps, and along corridors lined with art and relics of past ages and windows that allowed one to see the entire expanse of the capitol stretching out below and around them.

Finally, they entered the Presidential apartments. The sitting room was decorated to resemble one from Earth's Victorian age - all elaborate carving and gilding and marble, with French windows leading out to a patio that commanded a view of the mountainous Cruciform. "welcome, welcome," the Lord President called as he entered the room. He had discarded his formal robes, electing a frock coat and checked trousers and string tie, and he leaned heavily on a gnarled blackthorn cane clutched in a gnarled fist. "I'll wager neither of you ever expected to see me occupying these chambers, hmmm?"

His grip was firm, but felt as if one's hand were clutched by a sack of sticks, and the hand trembled a little as he shook the Master's hand before taking the Archivist's and kissing it. Blue eyes twinkled in a seamed face, and he gave her a crooked grin. "Please, both of you, be seated." He gestured towards a couch, then turned and shuffled in the direction of a chair. "Dear? Our guests are here."

"Yes, of course. I heard." The speaker was tall and regal, with long red hair spilling down her back and wearing a casual robe over a flowing white skirt. Entering the room she stopped dead for a moment, then stepped forward and caught the Archivist's hands with her own. "And you," she grinned, moving her head a little to get a look at the Archivist from multiple angles, "look at you! Your Doctor is a fool."

The Master snorted.

The other woman gave the Archivist a conspiratorial wink as she added: "Of course, mine is too."

(OOC: It probably goes without saying, but feel free to write the dialogue for alt-Archivist. After all, you do have a certain familiarity with the character... )

[Deleted]

The Archivist remained cool, calm, collected even, putting on that old face. That one that many remembered from the Academy Days. Was this what her life could have been like? What everyone's could have been like? It was a sadly terrifying thing, for the woman to see. For the woman to understand. She didn't like it, it felt like a stab at her hearts, like a rubbing in her face. What did this world have more than her own? They had peace, and they did not know of the Daleks, they never fought the way her world had. This Doctor, This Archivist, they had never felt the pains that others had. These people had stagnated into peace, and made themselves complacent.

A surge of jealousy struck the woman, but she started to build her walls again. She didn't need these people sensing or feeling her emotions. She needed to close herself off, which wouldn't be too hard given they had never known strife so she could build better walls than them. She had spent hundreds of years hiding behind knowledge, so she used it to her advantage now. She set her subconscious to the mental process of reciting species specifications for a variety of species she had run into.

They walked for what seemed like ages to the woman, she felt each tick of time passing her by. Soon enough they were within what was equivalent to a sitting room. She stood at the edge for a moment, and watched Their Doctor be polite with the Master, than he took her own hand and kissed it. There was a wrenching in her chest for a moment, her hearts beating harshly for a moment before laying cold - but that was hidden behind the litany of information she was running herself through about the Cybermen. Then she was met by an image of herself, her first self. Her ... the one of her that had been much happier. She had a moment of child like awe as the other woman swept towards her and her mind started to run faster through her Processes. "Of course he is a fool, but that's why I lov-loved him." She said as she turned her head towards The Master, they were trying to play a game. Might as well follow it.

The other Archivist was taken for a moment and then turned her head towards her husband. "I have a lot of information gathering I need to do, in order to find out how much this world differs from our own." She said as she stepped back and motioned for them to take a seat. "But that can always happen later, for now - for now The Master, and The Archivist, can enjoy some tea and fruit." She said with a twinkle in her eyes. Fruit, the same Fruit that The Doctor and The Archivist had shared together once a week every week... every year of their lives together. A reminder of that first date.

[Koschei]

"Of course he is a fool, but that's why I lov-loved him." She said as she turned her head towards The Master.

"Loved?" asked the Lord President, catching the past tense and arching an eyebrow. Alert blue eyes darted from the Archivist to the Master and back. The Master grinned, easily donning an emotion he didn't really feel, and slipped his arms around the Archivist's waist.

"Oh, you know how it is... or perhaps you don't," he said. "We've had a rocky patch, after all. What with the War, and some differences of opinion about how it was to be prosecuted. And then believing each other dead for quite some time." He let the smile turn sad. "We've both become so used to the thought that we were alone, that the habit has become hard to break."

An expression of mingled sorrow and sympathy and horror flickered across the Lord President's face. "I see. I... can't even begin to imagine what that was like."

"But still," the Master said, tightening his arms slightly, "after all this time, I'm just a fool. A fool in love," he let his lips drift close to the Archivist's ear, "with you."

The other Archivist was taken for a moment and then turned her head towards her husband. "I have a lot of information gathering I need to do, in order to find out how much this world differs from our own."

"And we will need to do the same," the Master agreed, "in order to create a baseline to help you compare your branch line with History."

The Lord President's eyes hardened momentarily at that, clearly resenting the reminder that they were refugees from the might-have-been, rather than what had actually happened. But, with the ease of a consummate politician, he forced his features to relax. "Indeed. It will be most enlightening, will it not?"

The - the Master mentally tagged her 'the Librarian', as a way to distinguish her from the Archivist - gestured to a low table. "But that can always happen later, for now - for now The Master, and The Archivist, can enjoy some tea and fruit."

Releasing the Archivist, the Master stepped forward and drew out her chair. The Lord President did the same, albeit with a degree more difficulty. Both men waited for the Ladies to be seated, then joined them at the table. Glancing over the fruit, the Master found himself baffled for a moment. It had been so long since he'd had Gallifreyan fruits that he almost didn't recognize them. But it came back - porrys, and ligonfruit, and bypel, and...

He grinned, remembering the story he'd pieced together over the course of decades in the Academy, then plucked up a segmented yellow-orange fruit. Breaking one of the segments off, he offered it to the Archivist. "Quorlberry, my dear?"

[Deleted]

The Archivist shored up her defenses, and leaned into The Master as he looped his arm around her waist. Her eyes sliding up to him as she graced him with a beautiful smile. One that lit up her newly regenerated face. But they both knew there was no emotion between them, other than the calculating need to gather as much information as they could possibly gather. She leaned into him, tilting her head up a little as he spoke about the difficulties in their relationship.

It wasn't until he leaned in closely and whispered into her ear that she had a twitch of something rock through her. A spark burning like embers that flared up for a single moment, before she squashed it back down. It had been more of a physical reaction, strangeness of a regenerated form. She slipped away from him, walking towards the table as 'The Librarian' seemed to make her round to her own seat. The Archivist slipped into the chair offered by The Master, and then let her head cock to the side as her eyes slid across the offerings at the table.

"Well yes, finding out where time segmented is one of the important points. Did Rassilon ever return in your timeline?" The Archivist asked non-chalantly as she hovered her hand over all the fruits. It came rushing back to her as well, and she felt a surge of sorrow stab her hearts. She quelled it and turned her attention to the man with her now. She watched him peel the segmented fruit and offer her a piece, her eyes zeroing in on the fruit. Her mind fractured for a moment, wondering what could have formed between them if The Master was not as he was - and if she was not as she was. "Oh, Quorlberry..." She said as she pushed as much of a cheerful tone into her voice.

"I so missed the fruits of Gallifrey! This is so wonderful." She found herself practically chirping as she reached out with slim fingers to pull the piece of fruit from The Master's fingers. She popped it into her mouth and tried to give a smile as she chewed. The explosion of flavors brought her back, back to a time long ago. Back to a time that she wished she could forget, but with her mind made how it was - forgetting was just not in her nature.

[Koschei]

She ignored the proffered fruit for a moment, to ask a question.
"Well yes, finding out where time segmented is one of the important points. Did Rassilon ever return in your timeline?"

The Lord President looked incredulous. "Rassilon? Returned?" He shook his head. "He has been dead a billion years, my dear. Why would he return?"

"Oh, Quorlberry..." the Archivist said, with a note of forced cheerfulness that perhaps only the Master heard. She took the proffered berry and popped it into her mouth. "I so missed the fruits of Gallifrey! This is so wonderful."

With a light shrug, the Master ate one as well. It was hardly his favorite - he'd been partial to toklfruit - but it was still good. "It is, isn't it?"

"Indeed," replied the Lord President. "But, you were saying... Rassilon?"

"Hmmm?" the Master answered, then smiled a little. "Oh, yes. That. I'm not clear on all the details - I was dead at the time - but I'm sure the Archivist can fill in the details I missed."

"Dead?" asked the Lord President, sounding surprised.

"Oh, yes. I'd consumed my regenerative cycle, stolen... three bodies, I believe, been executed by the Daleks, and finally dropped into the Eye of Harmony by... well... by you." He favored the Lord President with a wintery smile. "Our version of you, that is."

Both the Lord President and his wife stared at him with mingled expressions of shock and horror. Calmly, he ate another quorlberry and continued. "But, as I understand it, there was a coup in the early decades of the War. The Isolationist faction, having disposed of their rather conservative leader Lord Xandavieravannatenalarpexia, had captured his consciousness at the moment of his death and woven it into a newly Loomed body." The corner of his mouth quirked up in a feral grin. "Sadly for them, he proved far less tractable than they - for some reason - thought he would be."

Deliberately, he rested his hand on the Archivist's. "Have I missed any important particulars, my dear? You, at least, were alive for the event."

[Deleted]

The Archivist seemed to get some sort of perverse pleasure out of the way the other two were reacting to what The Master was saying. Her eyes remained half veiled as she enjoyed a sip of the tea. "Oh, that's lovely." She said as she set the cup down, folding her hands in her lap as she looked across at what she could have been. Would she have been satisfied like that? How different had that woman's life gone. She cleared her throat and rolled back her shoulders. "There is a lot of points where our histories diverged, from the looks of it." She said as she let her eyes lift up to focus on the couple nearby.

"The Master is correct in many ways, I merely have the information. I rarely left the Archives unless it was official business. I didn't really have a reason to. With The Master gone, and The Doctor off on adventures... I really had no reason to leave the Archives. Oh yes, I did take a student for a small time, a boy that I had a liking to. But he was more like a child to me, than anything else." The Archivist said as she picked the cup up again. Her eyes watching the two as they seemed to relax.

"Well why didn't you travel with The Doctor? Did you value your Archive duties so much?" The 'Librarian' asked as she tried to be polite and conversational, but something just didn't seem right.

"Oh, you misunderstood. The Doctor and I had to separate, during both of our First Lives." She said as she stared straight across at them. Her eyes seeming to burn with anger as her hand just barely tightened in her lap, the other holding the teacup as she took another sip. "You see, after we graduated... We traveled for a bit, and we were getting quite serious... But unfortunately our Council... had other plans. They gave me and order, with a dire consequence if I disobeyed - and Rather than be with the man I loved, I saved several lives - including his." The Archivist said as she set the cup down.

She loved it, honestly, the feeling of shock and pain rolling from her Other Self. She lifted her head as she cleared her throat. "But yes, as the War started winding further along... our Council got the brilliant idea to bring Rassilon back to destroy our enemy. Unfortunately it was for naught." The Archivist said as she looked down, her fingers tapping on her knee as her eyes closed and she drew in a shaking breath. "I left with the Archives on Fire, I was lucky I had a TARDIS outfitted to run properly without direct access to the networks other Time Lords used." She murmured as her eyes closed, and she remembered that sight, the Capitol city on fire, and their world coming to an end.

"A lot of people had changed, because of the war. They became worse monsters that that which we fought, and I believe that saving the entire universe was more important than the planet... and I believe that's what the Doctor believed as well. I also think, based on when I met him last, that his decision still torments him, to this very day." She whispered as the hand in her lap gripped the fabric of her garments, her other hand slowly lowered the teacup. "He probably does mourn what he did, but his decision was for the greater good. Though what he did was a crime - a could've been... one I don't even want to imagine, was an entire universe... everything - ruled by Daleks. Nothing would be left free, all enslaved to them... or the Cybermen." She said with a shrug of her shoulder.

[Koschei]

"Well why didn't you travel with The Doctor? Did you value your Archive duties so much?" The 'Librarian' asked as she tried to be polite and conversational, but something just didn't seem right.

"Oh, you misunderstood. The Doctor and I had to separate, during both of our First Lives."

The Lord President's eyes flicked to his wife's for a moment, and then he leaned forward. "And whyever did you have to do that, hmmm?"

There was something in his voice that, to the Master's ears, made the question far more than purely academic. A... hunger, if you will. The sort of predatory gleam that the Master recognized from the mirror.

The Archivist sipped her tea. "You see, after we graduated... We traveled for a bit, and we were getting quite serious... But unfortunately our Council... had other plans. They gave me and order, with a dire consequence if I disobeyed - and Rather than be with the man I loved, I saved several lives - including his."

There was a grim expression on the Lord President's face now. "Ah, I see..." He reached out and clasped his wife's hand with his own frail, fleshless one. "I see."

He felt the curiousity burning at the back of his throat, and forced himself to take a bite of fruit - any fruit - to choke the question back. Let the Lord President speak first. No doubt he was as much a fool as the Doctor he'd warred with over the centuries.

"But yes," the Archivist continued, "as the War started winding further along... our Council got the brilliant idea to bring Rassilon back to destroy our enemy. Unfortunately it was for naught."

"They even brought me back," the Master added, stepping in smoothly as the Archivist fought for control. "Turned me loose as a weapon of terror against enemies that knew no fear. Commissioned me to destroy them, by whatever means necessary."

"Really?" the 'Librarian' asked, slightly shaken by the conversation. "And, what did you do?"

"I burned worlds," the Master answered. "I unleashed parasentient nousviruses. I stripped allies from them, attacked their origin points, captured their children and helped twist them into undying monstrosities that could only find release from their suffering with the blood of their parents."

"I left with the Archives on Fire," whispered the Archivist. "I was lucky I had a TARDIS outfitted to run properly without direct access to the networks other Time Lords used."

"I fought," the Master continued. "Right up until the end, when the Daleks took the Cruciform." That statement drew a shocked gasp from the Lord President. "And then I ran, just as far as I could. Because, at that terrible moment, all hope was gone."

"A lot of people had changed, because of the war. They became worse monsters that that which we fought, and I believe that saving the entire universe was more important than the planet... and I believe that's what the Doctor believed as well. I also think, based on when I met him last, that his decision still torments him, to this very day." She whispered as the hand in her lap gripped the fabric of her garments, her other hand slowly lowered the teacup. "He probably does mourn what he did, but his decision was for the greater good. Though what he did was a crime - a could've been... one I don't even want to imagine, was an entire universe... everything - ruled by Daleks. Nothing would be left free, all enslaved to them... or the Cybermen." She said with a shrug of her shoulder.

"These... dah-leks?" the Lord President said, slowly. "They were really as terrible as that?"

"Oh, yes," the Master agreed. "Nearly as terrible as we were."

The Lord President fell silent for several minutes, resting one hand on the Rod of Rassilon and thinking hard. The other tightened on his Lady Wife's hand. "I think..." he finally said, slowly, "I believe... yes." He sighed. "I once cast down the High council and Lord President Morbius for their crimes against... the children of Gallifrey..." His eyes opened again, hard marbles of white and blue ice. "I believe I could have, if necessary, destroyed Gallifrey itself."

His hand shook as he reached out and plucked a quorlberry of his own. "We will still need to bring your Doctor to trial, of course. But... perhaps... there will be mercy."