elisi: (Stepping Sideways)
[personal profile] elisi
At the start of the year I delved back into this 'verse. I didn't mean for so long to lapse before I posted the next installment, but it took longer to write than anticipated (not to mention other factors such as RL, S10 of Doctor Who and all the meta etc. etc.) Anyway, for my tiny handful of faithful readers - here you are. I hope you enjoy. (Nine chapters, plus prologue & epilogue)

Basically each story in 'Stepping Sideways' is a visit to a different universe/character, allowing the Seeker to be seen with fresh eyes by his nearest and dearest, this time round meeting Roda (luckweaver's OC). Part of my Not the Last 'verse.

For new people - I have my own OC Time Lord and a whole verse centered around him. (He is the Master and Lucy's son and born during TYTNW.) The stories are all meant to stand alone, so please have a look if you like. I'd love you forever. <3


Summary: How do you save people that don't want to be saved?
Setting: Between A Good Day and The Death and Life of Rodageitmososa. (This is AU, but within New Who between Name of the Doctor and The Day of the Doctor.)
Spoilers: A Good Day. But can easily be read on its own.
Rating: PG-13.
Characters: This part: The Third Seeker (OC), Alt!Roda (OC)
Beta: Um... That would be a no. All mistakes mine.
Feedback: Would be amazing. :)
Thank yous: To luckweaver for the loan of Roda, for the collaboration and all the dialogue, and for the gorgeous icon/banner. ♥



SherwoodBanner1


Prologue


Travel is more than the seeing of sights; it is a change that goes on, deep and permanent, in the ideas of living.” – Miriam Beard


The Seeker would be lying if he didn’t admit that he regretted how his ‘adventure’ with Jack had turned out.

Of course part of the reason for travelling - and looking up those he knew - was to find new perspectives, to challenge his presumptions. But he’d not expected it to be so brutal.

There had been the moment when Jack had aimed his gun at him, and there was no doubt in the Seeker’s mind that Jack had wished he could’ve fired it without repercussions…

Studying the whisky bottle in his hand (so very nearly empty), he reflected that maybe it was just. After all he’d been willing to let Roda kill his father at the battle in the Medusa Cascade - a taste of his own medicine was probably good for him.

But there had been no sugar to help it go down.

Emptying the bottle he tossed it away, and reached out for another. The motion made the cushion at his back slip down, and he had to readjust his position again.

“You OK there Caan?” he asked, “your bumps were not designed with comfort in mind.”

“Daleks do not have a concept of com-fort,” Caan replied, and the Seeker chuckled as he leaned back against the Dalek once more and glanced around the room. He’d recreated a tiny bit of Skaro as best he could (getting anything coherent out of Caan’s mind was a fool’s errand, but images were easier to navigate), and Caan certainly seemed happy enough. And his TARDIS hadn’t complained about creating it, so it couldn’t be too bad, right? And Dalek design was not unattractive. The cool pale blue of the slanting metal walls was a nice counterpoint to the rest of the TARDIS, the only drawback being how low the ceiling had turned out to be.

That said, he supposed he couldn’t blame Jack for freaking out… Nobody had taken to his interest in Caan. 


Even so, he was sure his father had worked with Daleks several times. He stared at the new bottle glumly. Not a good thing to remember.

Removing the lid and taking a good swig (oh god, he loved peaty whisky), he reflected that if nothing else his initial goal had been accomplished.

Thinking back, he had wanted… he had wanted to do for another Jack, what he could never do for his own.

And he had.

But inbetween there had been a crazy detour of a - love affair? Something fun, yet at times surprisingly tender…

‘Don’t touch me!’

It shouldn’t have ended like that.


But it had, and there was nothing to be done.

(He’d miss him. Already missed his easy humour and companionship. He’d been so young, so unburdened. Would miss him more tonight when his bed would be empty…)

He frowned at the bottle. This was no good, self-pity was useless. He needed something new. A project. Find some genuinely dismal place, help bring about a revolution, and then follow through properly. Indepth change, at every level. He was sure it could be done.

Of course he was well aware that he was essentially running planet-wide tests for how to go about creating his future empire, and that this was probably morally or ethically problematic, but empires didn’t come with rule books, even if he’d read his Marcus Aurelius… So screw it. A planet would be better off, and he would have valuable knowledge.

Yes, tomorrow was a new day. He hoped Jack would make his new life work, but it was a life that could never have contained a Time Lord, he knew that.

Onwards.

~


A few days later the Seeker stepped out of his TARDIS, sharply dressed and ready to get a feel for the place. The scanners had indicated a settlement of some kind nearby that he might check out a little later, but to begin with he liked to taste the air, test the gravity and the environment, make sure there would be no unpleasant surprises later. For some reason the TARDIS had chosen the middle of a forest to land in, but she probably had her reasons, since he’d given her free reign when it came to choosing his new project.

He’d asked Caan for its opinion, but the Dalek had only swivelled its dome slowly, before gurling “Goddess”, which was no help at all. Maybe there was an abandoned temple somewhere near?

The forest was very pretty, the leaf cover blueish, but pale as if painted by a water colour artist, with accent colours of pale pink and the occasional misty ocre or viridescent flowers. In the distance he spotted tall grey mountains, capped with clouds, and smiled. If nothing else, this stop was going to be aesthetically pleasing.

The Toclafane hovered over his head, happily chirruping, and he sent them off on scouting missions as usual: “You know the drill my pretties - go on, and remember to stay out of sight.”

Debating with himself what to do until they returned – he should probably do more research before walking into a potentially hostile situation – he felt a strange tug of something. Had it been a rustle in the bushes? Or something tugging at other senses? It felt oddly familiar, which was a conundrum in itself. Brand new universe, brand new everything…

Trying to hone in on the cause of the twinge, whatever it had been, he caught the movement too late.

There was a flash of something and a second later he found himself pinned to the side of the TARDIS, a knife to his throat and a familiar face glaring at him with pure hatred, as she spoke:


“Should have known you would be involved somehow - Master.”



Chapter 1
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