There, and Back Again - Chapter 2
Jul. 8th, 2020 11:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
schrodingers_time_ladyTitle: There, and Back Again - Chapter 2
Fandom: Doctor Who
Character(s): Rodageitmososa (OC), Borusa, Rassilon (pre-show)
Ships(s): n/a, so far
Previous Chapter: Chapter 1
Next Chapter: Chapter 2
Synopsis: Growing into a Time Lady is hard enough, but growing up as the Lord President's ward is even harder. Especially when it seems as though all of Gallifrey and strangers alike want to tell you how to live your life and who you're going to become.
Cross-posts: AO3
---
“You see Lord President, the girl is a menace!”
Trust Professor Borusa only to tell his side of the story, thought Roda darkly, perched on a stool that was almost too tall for her feet to touch the ground, her bruised hand resting tenderly in her lap. She sat and seethed, refusing to make eye contact with anything but her knees, aware that her face was red with rage. She couldn’t find it in her to care.
Lord Borusa had had it out for her, it seemed, since the very first day she had moved in to the Prydonian Academy. It had not been ‘fitting’, she remembered him saying, to disturb him in the evening to take in a Tot in their first year of education. Could not, he had continued, some loomless House take her in and be done with it? Roda had been very quiet that first night at the Academy, curling up in a bed that was too big in a room that was too grand and had decided that if Borusa was going to hate her, then she could just as easily hate him. Though her other professors had been kinder - some even going so far as to offer what help they could, or somebody for her to talk to - Borusa had held that personal inconvenience against her from day one. Seven years on, his opinion of her had not approved any.
Life at the Academy had become the new normal, and in a way, Roda hardly remembered what life had been like before it. A few weeks after her father’s death, the Castellan had visited once again to inform her that the cause of her father’s death had been inconclusive, and that the case had been closed with the execution of the Shobogans who had been at the scene of the crime. At the time at least, Roda had thought nothing of it and thrown herself into studies, trying to do what it felt like her father would have wanted her to do. If she could bury herself in books and lessons, leaving herself no time to think about what was no longer there, then perhaps it wouldn’t hurt.
It had still hurt, of course. Even now, it still did. It hurt not to see him in the mornings, not to be able to show him what she was working on. At the start of the last semester, they had begun being taught how to care for TARDIS coral and Roda knew that her father would have loved it. She had begged and pleaded with the Castellan to allow her to take a sample of coral from his now-compounded TARDIS, and eventually he had agreed; if only because she had pointed out that as soon as she was of age, the estate of the House of Meyerodeon would be hers anyway, and perhaps because he had wanted to shut her up. It would take years to fully grow, she was told, but it was the one piece of her father that she had, and Roda treasured it more than anything else on Gallifrey.
And now she might lose everything, just because she had hit somebody that she shouldn’t have.
“She should be expelled immediately!” Oblivious to or uncaring of her inner turmoil, Borusa continued to pace in front of the Lord President, practically frothing at the mouth with rage. For his part, Lord Rassilon stood with one hand on his chin, listening to the tirade in complete silence. “Attacking her elders for no apparent reason - a Time Lord in the Council, no less!” Borusa threw his hands in the air, and Roda tried not to roll her eyes. “She does not pay attention in my lectures, she is downright disrespectful in general and now this!” He raised his arm to show Lord Rassilon, where an admittedly nasty-looking bruise was beginning to spread across his forearm. Roda hadn’t realised she was capable of that. “I demand she be dealt with immediately.”
“You demand.”
The Lord President’s voice was quiet, but powerful. Even Roda found herself flinching in her chair, stealing a glance up at him. Lord Rassilon was a tall man, with long auburn hair tied back and held in place by his ceremonial collar and a well-trimmed beard. Unlike most members of the Council, he was broad and well-muscled, and it was easy to see how he might have fought the vampires and the Sisterhood of Karn as it was written in her Gallifreyan History 101 textbook. He struck a strong pose, and his presence filled the room more than the irate professor even without the rich burgundy robes he wore, or the ornate staff he was not seen without. His expression had been deadpan throughout the whole conversation, but as he spoke Roda saw the side of his eye twitch in barely noticeable annoyance, and fought the urge to tiptoe out of the office while his attention was elsewhere.
Beside him, Roda felt she looked far less composed. He didn’t have too much height on her, she would have guessed, but she was skinny and pale and no matter how hard she tried to keep it under control she had never managed to deal with her hair as well as her father had. She had let her black hair grow out, almost to the small of her back, and little wisps of hair seemed to escape from its bondage every time she moved her head. The robes she wore always felt a size too big for her, and indeed they were rolled up to her elbows right now, folded underneath themselves until they stayed in place so that she could write with a quill without turning the hem of her tunic blue and having to scrub it clean. Awkwardly she let her good hand slide up her arm as she fiddled with an unraveling thread, waiting to see what happened next.
“I - I mean that is I request that you-”
Borusa’s stopped stammering as soon as the Lord President held up a hand for silence, shutting his mouth obediently. Roda saw Rassilon look down at her, and quickly turned her gaze back to the ground as he gave a thoughtful hum, hoping that he hadn’t seen her watching him.
“Lord Borusa, were I you I would choose my words more carefully,” declared the Lord President, diplomatically. Roda couldn’t help a small smirk from tugging at the edge of her mouth, and bit her lip to stop it from growing into a bigger smile. Yes, she thought, he should keep his mouth shut, shouldn’t he. If he had, we wouldn’t all be here. “Remember to whom you speak.”
“I - yes, Lord Rassilon.”
“Now…” The President cleared his throat. “I understand your… concern, but why did you summon me and not the child’s guardian?”
Roda’s stomach lurched. She mad an involuntary noise before she could stop herself, and felt more than saw two pairs of eyes turn on her with mixed emotions. It brought a blush rushing up her face to her ears, and she curled her hands into fists in her lap, deeply embarrassed and unsure what to say. But Professor Borusa spoke before she could.
“She has no relatives to speak of, Lord President.”
“No relatives?” Out of the corner of her eye, Roda saw Lord Rassilon raise an eyebrow. He looked at her briefly, as though reading something about her in a glance. “She is of the House of Meyerodeon, is she not?”
“An extinct house, Lord. She has,” Borusa wrung his hands, “that is to say she has lived at the Academy since she was-”
“My father is dead, Lord Rassilon. It’s just me.”
It took all of Roda’s courage to speak up, and she felt her knuckles shake in her lap as she tried to remember how one was supposed to address the Lord President. She swallowed, watching surprise and then confusion cross over the President’s usually stoic face, only to land on frustration. But when she opened her mouth to explain further, he turned away from her and took a step towards Professor Borusa, a slight edge to his voice.
“I was not informed?”
“I… we felt it prudent that she be raised here, Lord President.”
“And yet in such a circumstance,” said the President calmly, “an underage Time Lord is to be entrusted to the care of her Chapter.”
Borusa pulled a face that was almost, but not quite, sneering. “Her House was not of enough importance to bother you with such a trifling matter, Lord.”
Roda tilted her head to one side, curious. She had always assumed it was the Lord President who had not had time to raise her, not that he hadn’t been made aware. Of course when she was eight, she hadn’t realised that the President was the head of the Prydonian Chapter. It was something they had been taught in the Academy two years later, by which point she had grown accustomed to living at the boarding house where the children of Time Lords from the colonies such as Arcadia resided. After all, why would someone like the Lord President care about her? She was just one orphaned child, after all. More or less a nobody.
Curiousity swiftly gave way to anger once again. She could think herself unimportant, just one person, but Borusa… she shook with rage. ‘Not of enough importance’ her left foot. He had always spoken ill of her father, and thought little of her in turn, and yet she felt as though she had done nothing to earn his disdain. Her father, neither. He had been a Librarian, well-liked amongst the populace of Gallifrey even though he’d kept to himself. His wife, Roda’s mother, had been several generations ahead of him and died of her last when she was young, but she had had a seat on the Council, or so Roda had been told. Meyerodeon had been nothing but kind to anybody, as Roda remembered him. He hadn’t deserved to be murdered, and it still stung that as far as anyone could tell he was simply in the wrong place, at the wrong time.
Fury threatened to wash over her again and she pushed herself to her feet, the three-legged stool wobbling and threatening to fall in her haste. Both older Time Lords turned to stare at her, but Roda ignored the looks on their face and jabbed a finger in her professor’s direction.
“He was a better man than you-”
“Quiet, Rodageitmososa.”
Lord Rassilon didn’t have to shout. His look was more than enough. Roda shut her mouth with a snap, eyes wide with anger and disbelief. She knew he was the President, but could he defend Borusa?!
“You see what I have to deal with?” Sneered Borusa, folding his arms across his chest triumphantly. “She is out of control. How could anyone make a Time Lady out of this?”
“You-” Roda spluttered despite herself, despite the Lord President’s command, “you provoked me!”
For a moment, there was silence. Borusa looked at her as though she had grown a second head for daring to raise her voice in front of the President, and Lord Rassilon for his part simply raised an eyebrow and adjusted the grip on his decorated staff. Roda got the feeling that he was studying her, or at least coming to some kind of decision, and did her best to keep her mouth shut this time. It was one thing to have the Academy angry at her; quite another, she imagined, to have the Lord President angry at her.
Time seemed to drag on forever, a Jeremy Bearimy of doubt and unease. Roda stood where she’d been told to, quiet, wishing for the lives of her that she’d just stayed where she was sat and kept her nose down while the President and her professor spoke about her. Instead, she had stuck out her neck. A Houseless, all but homeless all-but Time Tot with nowhere to go if she was forced to leave school…
Finally, Lord Rassilon spoke, looking over Roda to the Professor.
“Thank you, Lord Borusa.” The professor blinked, and the President continued. “I shall deal with the task at hand, you may leave now.”
“But, Lord Rassilon,” Borusa’s eyes boggled, and Roda had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at the expression on his face. “Don’t you think I should-”
“You dare to question me?”
Roda and Borusa both jumped at the sudden boom to the President’s voice, each of them taking a step back as his staff banged into the marble to punctuate his words. Without saying anything further, her Professor bowed so low that his held almost touched his knees and then vacated his office at a brisk walk, leaving Roda… alone. Alone with the great Lord Rassilon, founder of Time Lord society. Roda stood very still, hoping not to draw attention to herself and terrified of what was going to happen next, until the Lord President watched the door slide shut behind Borusa and then walked around the table to take a seat at his desk as though it was the most natural thing in the world to him. He rested his elbows on the table and gestured at the stool that Roda had jumped out of before steepling his fingers.
Roda almost toppled the chair in her haste to do as she was told, putting her hands on her knees and gulping.
“You will explain, Rodageitmososa.” He raised an eyebrow again. “And you will do so quickly, and honestly.”
Her mouth suddenly drier than Skaro, Roda licked her lips and began to talk a mile a minute.
“I - I nodded off in Quantum Physics.” She looked at her hands and then at the Lord President, hoping that she could explain herself, convince him that she had only done what she had because Borusa had goaded her into it. “I didn’t mean to, but I was up all night studying and - and I was almost late for class.” Great start, she chastised herself, biting the inside of her lip. Convince him you are as worthless as Borusa said. “Lord Borusa started to tell me off, and then he started saying things about my father.” Her eyes flashed with anger. “He said that I was a failure, just like my father, but he wasn’t a failure! He was a good man, a hard-working man! Better than Lord Borusa, anyway!” Realising that she was raising her voice, Roda paused to swallow and catch her breath, looking away again. “He can say what he likes about me, but not my father.”
“And so you hit him.”
Roda bit her lip. “I didn’t mean to…”
“A Time Lady should be more cautious of what she means to do…”
It was a terrible excuse, and she was well aware of it. But strangely, Lord Rassilon just gave her a curt nod, as though content that she hadn’t tried to lie to him. He sat there thoughtfully, and Roda wondered if she was supposed to say more, or if he was going to punish her at last. Instead, he sat up straight and made a noise for her to look at him once again.
“What Lord Borusa said was inappropriate and insensitive. He will be reprimanded.” Roda blinked, mouth opening in surprise. “However,” ah, she thought, here it is, “you should not have struck an elder of yours. You should have gone to another professor for guidance, or perhaps spoken to a council member with your concerns. Another Prydonian House.”
“I…” Roda paused. “I don’t really talk to the other Houses, Lord Rassilon. I live here,” she gestured at the door, “in the dorms.” Another pause. Rassilon pursed his lips and Roda cut in while she had the chance. “Lord Rassilon… I’m sorry I hit Lord Borusa. I didn’t mean - I mean I never intended to do it, it was stupid, I was just so angry…” She looked him in the eye, feeling her own start to grow wet with frustration, and worry. “Am I going to be expelled?”
“Your professor’s actions were tactless and uncalled for,” reiterated the Lord President. “Neither were your own befitting of a proper Time Lady.” Roda dropped her head into her hands, despair threatening to bring her to proper tears. “But you are still a child. If you give me your word it will not happen again, I will turn a blind eye this time.”
The tears almost began to flow out of relief. Roda felt a wobbly grin threaten to break free, and kept her head in her hands, trying to process what the Lord President had just said. She wasn’t in trouble. She wasn’t in trouble? Wasn’t expelled? She could hardly believe it. With Borusa calling the President she’d felt for sure that she’d finally blown it this time. But she was being given another chance, being kept on at school. She forced herself to look up at the President with a weary smile of relief, gratitude plastered all over her face.
“I won’t do it again, I promise!”
He raised a hand for quiet, and Roda nodded eagerly, shutting her mouth so fast her teeth clacked together.
“The matter is closed, and your lessons are cancelled for today. There is one more thing to address, however.” Roda tilted her head in confusion once more. “I understand Lord Meyerodeon was your only family.”
Roda nodded. It made sense that the President would know about the Houses of his Chapter, she supposed. Especially considering the fact that without a male heir, her House was extinct. It was, she’d heard muttering, beginning to become a problem amongst the Prydonians. Once well-known Houses looming renegades and rebels who left Gallifrey, or failed to graduate. There had been talk, she knew, of leadership of the Chapter being handed over to the Kitriarch of the House of Lungbarrow and she couldn’t help but wonder if Lord Rassilon wanted to distance himself from the scandal before it grew too big to ignore. Of course, it wasn’t something she thought out loud.
“He was, Lord.”
“Then you will be my ward, as should have happened at your father’s death.” Roda could only stare, at a complete loss for words. Perhaps she had just gone mad. “And if you are to reside in my house, you will not continuing this reckless misbehaviour, am I understood?” She was aware she had said something in agreement, but the words were still processing in the back of her mind. The President’s Ward… her?! “I am told that despite your… transgressions, you focus in class and show some promise if you only apply yourself better. Rest assured you will not be allowed to slack under my roof.”
“I - yes, Lord Rassilon.”
“When you graduate from the Academy, you will be given your father’s estate but for now it is inappropriate for you to run a household. It will remain in trust.”
Despite herself, Roda snorted. “Me? Run an estate?” She shook her head. “I doubt I could even run the Library…”
“You will be instructed. For now, come.” Leaning on his staff, the Lord President pulled himself to his feet and Roda hurried to follow him. “We will return to my rooms and discuss this privately. You may return for your affairs tonight.”
And for the second time in her short life, Roda followed someone she had just met out one door and into a new life. This time, she couldn’t help but hope that perhaps, things would be alright. She had a chance, one that anybody in her position could only dream of. She just hoped she could make the most of it.
Fandom: Doctor Who
Character(s): Rodageitmososa (OC), Borusa, Rassilon (pre-show)
Ships(s): n/a, so far
Previous Chapter: Chapter 1
Next Chapter: Chapter 2
Synopsis: Growing into a Time Lady is hard enough, but growing up as the Lord President's ward is even harder. Especially when it seems as though all of Gallifrey and strangers alike want to tell you how to live your life and who you're going to become.
Cross-posts: AO3
"Is she trouble, like I'm trouble?
Make it a double twist of fate or a melody."
- "She's a Rebel", Green Day
- "She's a Rebel", Green Day
---
“You see Lord President, the girl is a menace!”
Trust Professor Borusa only to tell his side of the story, thought Roda darkly, perched on a stool that was almost too tall for her feet to touch the ground, her bruised hand resting tenderly in her lap. She sat and seethed, refusing to make eye contact with anything but her knees, aware that her face was red with rage. She couldn’t find it in her to care.
Lord Borusa had had it out for her, it seemed, since the very first day she had moved in to the Prydonian Academy. It had not been ‘fitting’, she remembered him saying, to disturb him in the evening to take in a Tot in their first year of education. Could not, he had continued, some loomless House take her in and be done with it? Roda had been very quiet that first night at the Academy, curling up in a bed that was too big in a room that was too grand and had decided that if Borusa was going to hate her, then she could just as easily hate him. Though her other professors had been kinder - some even going so far as to offer what help they could, or somebody for her to talk to - Borusa had held that personal inconvenience against her from day one. Seven years on, his opinion of her had not approved any.
Life at the Academy had become the new normal, and in a way, Roda hardly remembered what life had been like before it. A few weeks after her father’s death, the Castellan had visited once again to inform her that the cause of her father’s death had been inconclusive, and that the case had been closed with the execution of the Shobogans who had been at the scene of the crime. At the time at least, Roda had thought nothing of it and thrown herself into studies, trying to do what it felt like her father would have wanted her to do. If she could bury herself in books and lessons, leaving herself no time to think about what was no longer there, then perhaps it wouldn’t hurt.
It had still hurt, of course. Even now, it still did. It hurt not to see him in the mornings, not to be able to show him what she was working on. At the start of the last semester, they had begun being taught how to care for TARDIS coral and Roda knew that her father would have loved it. She had begged and pleaded with the Castellan to allow her to take a sample of coral from his now-compounded TARDIS, and eventually he had agreed; if only because she had pointed out that as soon as she was of age, the estate of the House of Meyerodeon would be hers anyway, and perhaps because he had wanted to shut her up. It would take years to fully grow, she was told, but it was the one piece of her father that she had, and Roda treasured it more than anything else on Gallifrey.
And now she might lose everything, just because she had hit somebody that she shouldn’t have.
“She should be expelled immediately!” Oblivious to or uncaring of her inner turmoil, Borusa continued to pace in front of the Lord President, practically frothing at the mouth with rage. For his part, Lord Rassilon stood with one hand on his chin, listening to the tirade in complete silence. “Attacking her elders for no apparent reason - a Time Lord in the Council, no less!” Borusa threw his hands in the air, and Roda tried not to roll her eyes. “She does not pay attention in my lectures, she is downright disrespectful in general and now this!” He raised his arm to show Lord Rassilon, where an admittedly nasty-looking bruise was beginning to spread across his forearm. Roda hadn’t realised she was capable of that. “I demand she be dealt with immediately.”
“You demand.”
The Lord President’s voice was quiet, but powerful. Even Roda found herself flinching in her chair, stealing a glance up at him. Lord Rassilon was a tall man, with long auburn hair tied back and held in place by his ceremonial collar and a well-trimmed beard. Unlike most members of the Council, he was broad and well-muscled, and it was easy to see how he might have fought the vampires and the Sisterhood of Karn as it was written in her Gallifreyan History 101 textbook. He struck a strong pose, and his presence filled the room more than the irate professor even without the rich burgundy robes he wore, or the ornate staff he was not seen without. His expression had been deadpan throughout the whole conversation, but as he spoke Roda saw the side of his eye twitch in barely noticeable annoyance, and fought the urge to tiptoe out of the office while his attention was elsewhere.
Beside him, Roda felt she looked far less composed. He didn’t have too much height on her, she would have guessed, but she was skinny and pale and no matter how hard she tried to keep it under control she had never managed to deal with her hair as well as her father had. She had let her black hair grow out, almost to the small of her back, and little wisps of hair seemed to escape from its bondage every time she moved her head. The robes she wore always felt a size too big for her, and indeed they were rolled up to her elbows right now, folded underneath themselves until they stayed in place so that she could write with a quill without turning the hem of her tunic blue and having to scrub it clean. Awkwardly she let her good hand slide up her arm as she fiddled with an unraveling thread, waiting to see what happened next.
“I - I mean that is I request that you-”
Borusa’s stopped stammering as soon as the Lord President held up a hand for silence, shutting his mouth obediently. Roda saw Rassilon look down at her, and quickly turned her gaze back to the ground as he gave a thoughtful hum, hoping that he hadn’t seen her watching him.
“Lord Borusa, were I you I would choose my words more carefully,” declared the Lord President, diplomatically. Roda couldn’t help a small smirk from tugging at the edge of her mouth, and bit her lip to stop it from growing into a bigger smile. Yes, she thought, he should keep his mouth shut, shouldn’t he. If he had, we wouldn’t all be here. “Remember to whom you speak.”
“I - yes, Lord Rassilon.”
“Now…” The President cleared his throat. “I understand your… concern, but why did you summon me and not the child’s guardian?”
Roda’s stomach lurched. She mad an involuntary noise before she could stop herself, and felt more than saw two pairs of eyes turn on her with mixed emotions. It brought a blush rushing up her face to her ears, and she curled her hands into fists in her lap, deeply embarrassed and unsure what to say. But Professor Borusa spoke before she could.
“She has no relatives to speak of, Lord President.”
“No relatives?” Out of the corner of her eye, Roda saw Lord Rassilon raise an eyebrow. He looked at her briefly, as though reading something about her in a glance. “She is of the House of Meyerodeon, is she not?”
“An extinct house, Lord. She has,” Borusa wrung his hands, “that is to say she has lived at the Academy since she was-”
“My father is dead, Lord Rassilon. It’s just me.”
It took all of Roda’s courage to speak up, and she felt her knuckles shake in her lap as she tried to remember how one was supposed to address the Lord President. She swallowed, watching surprise and then confusion cross over the President’s usually stoic face, only to land on frustration. But when she opened her mouth to explain further, he turned away from her and took a step towards Professor Borusa, a slight edge to his voice.
“I was not informed?”
“I… we felt it prudent that she be raised here, Lord President.”
“And yet in such a circumstance,” said the President calmly, “an underage Time Lord is to be entrusted to the care of her Chapter.”
Borusa pulled a face that was almost, but not quite, sneering. “Her House was not of enough importance to bother you with such a trifling matter, Lord.”
Roda tilted her head to one side, curious. She had always assumed it was the Lord President who had not had time to raise her, not that he hadn’t been made aware. Of course when she was eight, she hadn’t realised that the President was the head of the Prydonian Chapter. It was something they had been taught in the Academy two years later, by which point she had grown accustomed to living at the boarding house where the children of Time Lords from the colonies such as Arcadia resided. After all, why would someone like the Lord President care about her? She was just one orphaned child, after all. More or less a nobody.
Curiousity swiftly gave way to anger once again. She could think herself unimportant, just one person, but Borusa… she shook with rage. ‘Not of enough importance’ her left foot. He had always spoken ill of her father, and thought little of her in turn, and yet she felt as though she had done nothing to earn his disdain. Her father, neither. He had been a Librarian, well-liked amongst the populace of Gallifrey even though he’d kept to himself. His wife, Roda’s mother, had been several generations ahead of him and died of her last when she was young, but she had had a seat on the Council, or so Roda had been told. Meyerodeon had been nothing but kind to anybody, as Roda remembered him. He hadn’t deserved to be murdered, and it still stung that as far as anyone could tell he was simply in the wrong place, at the wrong time.
Fury threatened to wash over her again and she pushed herself to her feet, the three-legged stool wobbling and threatening to fall in her haste. Both older Time Lords turned to stare at her, but Roda ignored the looks on their face and jabbed a finger in her professor’s direction.
“He was a better man than you-”
“Quiet, Rodageitmososa.”
Lord Rassilon didn’t have to shout. His look was more than enough. Roda shut her mouth with a snap, eyes wide with anger and disbelief. She knew he was the President, but could he defend Borusa?!
“You see what I have to deal with?” Sneered Borusa, folding his arms across his chest triumphantly. “She is out of control. How could anyone make a Time Lady out of this?”
“You-” Roda spluttered despite herself, despite the Lord President’s command, “you provoked me!”
For a moment, there was silence. Borusa looked at her as though she had grown a second head for daring to raise her voice in front of the President, and Lord Rassilon for his part simply raised an eyebrow and adjusted the grip on his decorated staff. Roda got the feeling that he was studying her, or at least coming to some kind of decision, and did her best to keep her mouth shut this time. It was one thing to have the Academy angry at her; quite another, she imagined, to have the Lord President angry at her.
Time seemed to drag on forever, a Jeremy Bearimy of doubt and unease. Roda stood where she’d been told to, quiet, wishing for the lives of her that she’d just stayed where she was sat and kept her nose down while the President and her professor spoke about her. Instead, she had stuck out her neck. A Houseless, all but homeless all-but Time Tot with nowhere to go if she was forced to leave school…
Finally, Lord Rassilon spoke, looking over Roda to the Professor.
“Thank you, Lord Borusa.” The professor blinked, and the President continued. “I shall deal with the task at hand, you may leave now.”
“But, Lord Rassilon,” Borusa’s eyes boggled, and Roda had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at the expression on his face. “Don’t you think I should-”
“You dare to question me?”
Roda and Borusa both jumped at the sudden boom to the President’s voice, each of them taking a step back as his staff banged into the marble to punctuate his words. Without saying anything further, her Professor bowed so low that his held almost touched his knees and then vacated his office at a brisk walk, leaving Roda… alone. Alone with the great Lord Rassilon, founder of Time Lord society. Roda stood very still, hoping not to draw attention to herself and terrified of what was going to happen next, until the Lord President watched the door slide shut behind Borusa and then walked around the table to take a seat at his desk as though it was the most natural thing in the world to him. He rested his elbows on the table and gestured at the stool that Roda had jumped out of before steepling his fingers.
Roda almost toppled the chair in her haste to do as she was told, putting her hands on her knees and gulping.
“You will explain, Rodageitmososa.” He raised an eyebrow again. “And you will do so quickly, and honestly.”
Her mouth suddenly drier than Skaro, Roda licked her lips and began to talk a mile a minute.
“I - I nodded off in Quantum Physics.” She looked at her hands and then at the Lord President, hoping that she could explain herself, convince him that she had only done what she had because Borusa had goaded her into it. “I didn’t mean to, but I was up all night studying and - and I was almost late for class.” Great start, she chastised herself, biting the inside of her lip. Convince him you are as worthless as Borusa said. “Lord Borusa started to tell me off, and then he started saying things about my father.” Her eyes flashed with anger. “He said that I was a failure, just like my father, but he wasn’t a failure! He was a good man, a hard-working man! Better than Lord Borusa, anyway!” Realising that she was raising her voice, Roda paused to swallow and catch her breath, looking away again. “He can say what he likes about me, but not my father.”
“And so you hit him.”
Roda bit her lip. “I didn’t mean to…”
“A Time Lady should be more cautious of what she means to do…”
It was a terrible excuse, and she was well aware of it. But strangely, Lord Rassilon just gave her a curt nod, as though content that she hadn’t tried to lie to him. He sat there thoughtfully, and Roda wondered if she was supposed to say more, or if he was going to punish her at last. Instead, he sat up straight and made a noise for her to look at him once again.
“What Lord Borusa said was inappropriate and insensitive. He will be reprimanded.” Roda blinked, mouth opening in surprise. “However,” ah, she thought, here it is, “you should not have struck an elder of yours. You should have gone to another professor for guidance, or perhaps spoken to a council member with your concerns. Another Prydonian House.”
“I…” Roda paused. “I don’t really talk to the other Houses, Lord Rassilon. I live here,” she gestured at the door, “in the dorms.” Another pause. Rassilon pursed his lips and Roda cut in while she had the chance. “Lord Rassilon… I’m sorry I hit Lord Borusa. I didn’t mean - I mean I never intended to do it, it was stupid, I was just so angry…” She looked him in the eye, feeling her own start to grow wet with frustration, and worry. “Am I going to be expelled?”
“Your professor’s actions were tactless and uncalled for,” reiterated the Lord President. “Neither were your own befitting of a proper Time Lady.” Roda dropped her head into her hands, despair threatening to bring her to proper tears. “But you are still a child. If you give me your word it will not happen again, I will turn a blind eye this time.”
The tears almost began to flow out of relief. Roda felt a wobbly grin threaten to break free, and kept her head in her hands, trying to process what the Lord President had just said. She wasn’t in trouble. She wasn’t in trouble? Wasn’t expelled? She could hardly believe it. With Borusa calling the President she’d felt for sure that she’d finally blown it this time. But she was being given another chance, being kept on at school. She forced herself to look up at the President with a weary smile of relief, gratitude plastered all over her face.
“I won’t do it again, I promise!”
He raised a hand for quiet, and Roda nodded eagerly, shutting her mouth so fast her teeth clacked together.
“The matter is closed, and your lessons are cancelled for today. There is one more thing to address, however.” Roda tilted her head in confusion once more. “I understand Lord Meyerodeon was your only family.”
Roda nodded. It made sense that the President would know about the Houses of his Chapter, she supposed. Especially considering the fact that without a male heir, her House was extinct. It was, she’d heard muttering, beginning to become a problem amongst the Prydonians. Once well-known Houses looming renegades and rebels who left Gallifrey, or failed to graduate. There had been talk, she knew, of leadership of the Chapter being handed over to the Kitriarch of the House of Lungbarrow and she couldn’t help but wonder if Lord Rassilon wanted to distance himself from the scandal before it grew too big to ignore. Of course, it wasn’t something she thought out loud.
“He was, Lord.”
“Then you will be my ward, as should have happened at your father’s death.” Roda could only stare, at a complete loss for words. Perhaps she had just gone mad. “And if you are to reside in my house, you will not continuing this reckless misbehaviour, am I understood?” She was aware she had said something in agreement, but the words were still processing in the back of her mind. The President’s Ward… her?! “I am told that despite your… transgressions, you focus in class and show some promise if you only apply yourself better. Rest assured you will not be allowed to slack under my roof.”
“I - yes, Lord Rassilon.”
“When you graduate from the Academy, you will be given your father’s estate but for now it is inappropriate for you to run a household. It will remain in trust.”
Despite herself, Roda snorted. “Me? Run an estate?” She shook her head. “I doubt I could even run the Library…”
“You will be instructed. For now, come.” Leaning on his staff, the Lord President pulled himself to his feet and Roda hurried to follow him. “We will return to my rooms and discuss this privately. You may return for your affairs tonight.”
And for the second time in her short life, Roda followed someone she had just met out one door and into a new life. This time, she couldn’t help but hope that perhaps, things would be alright. She had a chance, one that anybody in her position could only dream of. She just hoped she could make the most of it.