There, and Back Again - Chapter 5

[schrodingers_time_lady]

Title: There, and Back Again - Chapter 5
Fandom: Doctor Who
Character(s): Rodageitmososa (OC), Rassilon (pre-show)
Ships(s): n/a, so far
Previous Chapter: Chapter 4
Next Chapter: Chapter 6
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

"It is what you read when you don’t have to that determines what you will be when you can’t help it."
- Oscar Wilde

---

“You’re running late.”

Roda stifled a yawn as she nodded to the guard at the gate, her mind still reeling from the strange encounter from earlier on. He looked at her, obviously half-bored, but he was one of the cheerier ones. Not long out of the Academy, friendly enough; if Rassilon hadn’t noticed the time she was getting home, this one wouldn’t tell on her.

“I was studying,” she shrugged, the strange book still stuffed under her arm. “Lost track of time.”

“You’re lucky.” The guard moved to let her pass, ruffling her hair as she did, and Roda turned to give him her fiercest scathing look. “He’s late, too.”

Inwardly, Roda breathed a sigh of relief, her hearts slowing down for the first time in hours. Good, then I can sneak in without him asking about Borusa or that Time Lord. She forced herself to smile, trying to look sheepish and finding she didn’t really have to put much effort into it.

“Thank Rassilon for that.”

“Literally!” The Time Lord winked, laughing at his own joke. “Better head in though, just in case.”

She didn’t need telling twice. With the door locked - not too uncommon an event, really - she had to switch the book to the other arm to hold her palm up to the genetic lock. It blinked and then beeped twice, disabling the security system so she could duck inside. As she headed for rooms at a power walk she heard it beep again, distantly, signalling that the door was sealed once again, and then picked up speed. The last thing she wanted to do was be caught in the corridor with a book from Earth telling the stories about a renegade human and a band of ‘Merry Men’.

Roda had spent the rest of the day with her nose in the stranger’s book, only lifting her head long enough to pretend she was paying attention when someone spoke to her or a Professor looked her way. It was… fascinating! Forbidden, foreign. The second she’d had a good look at the title, something had clicked into place at the back of her mind; a memory buried twenty one years ago when it hadn’t meant anything to her. The name hadn’t made sense at all when she’d looked into the Untempered Schism what felt like aeons ago, but now…

The door to her sleeping quarters slammed shut behind her as Roda forgot to be sneaky in her excitement. The stranger was practically forgotten as she slumped to the floor, resting her back against the wood and dropping the book onto her lap. This was too important to bother making it to the bed, and her satchel still hung around her shoulder, slowly slipping off. Ignoring it she read each word a letter at a time, drinking them in like water in the desert, a giddy grin on her face as she read them aloud.

“The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood of Great Renown in Nottinghamshire…”

It felt like speaking gospel, a truth that was just for her. She looked briefly around the room, as though suspicious that someone would look in on her secret and steal it away from her before she could commit it to hearts. She had read the entire book already, from cover to cover, and she felt as though she knew the figures in it like old friends. Robin Hood, the leader of his group of thieves in a forest in ‘Nottinghamshire’. Wherever that was. Brave, witty, noble, unstoppable. His best friend, Little John, not to mention Friar Tuck, Allan a Dale, Will Scarlet and Maid Marion… They had all laid at rest in her head, waiting for her to remember them and wake them up. And now that they were awake, she knew somehow that they would never settle down again.

Roda yawned again, and slapped her cheeks to keep herself from nodding off. This was too exciting, too interesting. She had to learn everything there was to know about these new friends. She pushed herself to her feet, clasping the book tightly before hiding it under her pillow and looking around the room for some sort of clue. She had heard that name in the Schism, though she hadn’t known it at the time. ‘Robin’, ‘Roda’, ‘Red’, ‘Rohan’. They had all echoed through her mind and she’d wondered for years if the Schism had been…. confused? Not quite getting her name right? Now though, she wanted to recall every other detail of that initiation. She pressed the balls of her hands to her eyes, muttering to herself.

Green. She remembered green. A deep, cloaking shade like nothing she had seen on Gallifrey before. Green light, green grass, green trees and in the middle of it, a flash of red like an eye watching her. Roda cast her gaze at the books that always laid by her bed, thinking about Middle Earth and the omnipotent eye of Sauron. Omnipotent - like Rassilon, Gallifrey, the Prydonian Chapter. Was that not what the Schism had meant after all? It was the green, though, that she really wanted to think about. The same colour as the cover of the new book, a shade that she now knew was called ‘Lincoln Green’. The same Lincoln Green that Robin and his men donned themselves in on their adventures.

The book was written in the same language as The Hobbit and so it must have come from Sol-3, too. Roda began with a book on Mutter’s Spiral that had come to her already dog-eared and scribbled all over even before she had gotten hold of it. In an unforgivingly hard chair at her desk she turned on her lamp, skimming through the pages for some mention of Nottingham. Once, twice, three times she checked the index, the glossary, looking for any hints and finding nothing. Frustrated, she tossed the book across the room at her bed and banged her head on the table. The idea that it wasn’t important enough to whoever had read the book seemed somehow laughable. It had apparently been enough for someone to steal it from the Prydonian Library, after all.

For a moment, Robin Hood was forgotten, and she glanced out the small window as her thoughts drifted to the strange man at the Academy. Who was he? How did he know her? What had made him want this book that for some reason meant so much to her? And if he had a way into the Library, why would he go out of his way to seek her out and return it by hand? None of it made a lick of sense, and she was tempted to bang her head once again in some vague hope it would recalibrate her thoughts. Nothing came to mind.

His warning, though, seared her brain. Better not tell him we spoke. By all rights she should have sent Lord Rassilon a message already, alerting him to some strange Time Lord at the Academy but she hadn’t. A little voice had told her to listen, and to do as she was told; the same voice that drilled the importance of Robin Hood into her. An untrained instinct told her that he was right; Rassilon would be angry. And that somehow, that anger would reverberate back on her, and ruin… something. She didn’t know what.

Besides which, what exactly was she supposed to say? ‘Lord Rassilon, today a Time Lord spoke to me on Gallifrey and I didn’t recognize him.’ She could hear his response already: ‘There are thousands of Time Lords you don’t know Rodageitmososa,’ he would say. ‘Why was this one worth wasting my time?’

“Pazithi Gallifreya!” she snapped, slamming her hand onto the desk and reaching blindly for another book. “Can’t I get one mystery at a time?!”

She would focus on Robin Hood for now. Unless the Time Lord showed up again, there really was no reason to waste her guardian’s time.

The tome she found in her hands wasn’t one she’d really read before. It was the kind of book she might have enjoyed when she was still properly a Tot, and she’d only really thumbed through it in the last twenty years, occasionally opening it to some page or another and reading just to pass the time. ‘Heroes from Across the Universe’ was stamped across the cover in simple Gallifreyan script and primary colours, and she almost tossed it after the first book without reading it before something told her to take a look at the contents page.

And there he was again. She practically crowed with excitement, followed by a flash of anger that the answer had been in her room all along and she hadn’t known. There - coming up to the bottom of the list of intergalactic names she only half knew - was ‘Robin Hood’ again. Thumbing through for the correct page, she rocked on her chair and licked her lips. So he was a fairy tale? Just a character in a story? She groaned as she began to read, barely less confused than before. 

As one finger traced the words she rocked back further on the chair and reached for her abandoned bag, pulling out paper and a quill that had barely seen proper use all day. She wanted to take some notes, write down everything she could find about Robin Hood in every book she could lay her hands on. If she could make up some kind of excuse, she could definitely stop in at the Library on her walk home, switch out books and try to make sense of the organizational system that she was pretty certain had resided ninety percent in her father’s head. He had books from all over the universe and - it had sometimes felt - from beyond, and though Roda’s perception of it came from the age of eight it had practically seemed like a TARDIS on the inside. She kicked herself for not doing the reading at the time, when it was easy to get into.

The legs of the chair hit the floor with a clank, and she stretched tired limbs to retrieve her treasure from under her pillow. But as soon as she slipped her hand into the fabric, a rap at the door made her freeze as though she’d been caught with her hand in the treat jar. She dropped the book and sat down on the bed as quickly as she could, only just managing to pull her feet up under her butt before the door opened inward at the behest of the one man in Gallifrey who could go wherever they pleased. Roda reminded herself - not at all for the first time - not to quip that a knock on the door did not immediately mean permission to enter a room.

“Rassilon,” she said, hoping that her smile didn’t look too suspicious. “I didn’t hear you knock.”

For a moment the Lord President looked as though he was going to say something about the lie, but the look on his face passed. He crossed his arms over his chest, oddly bereft of his staff.

“My apologies. I shall endeavour to announce my presence in the future.”

No, thought Roda, you probably won’t.

“Is something wrong?”

Another pause. “No, Rodageitmososa. I simply came to explain my absence this afternoon.”

“Oh!” Roda gave a small, puzzled smile. “It’s uh…” she tried to do something to tame her curls absentmindedly, and tried for a joke. “I thought I was the one with a curfew?”

“Hmm.” Rassilon stepped into the room, closing the door behind him calmly. Roda tensed up, hoping he wouldn’t look too closely at her paperwork. After all, half of it was distracted doodles and the other half had nothing to do with the Academy. “It is good to see you more… confident.” It didn’t quite feel like a compliment, although Roda got the feeling he meant it as one. Perhaps. “It was not fitting for the President’s ward to stammer when spoken to.”

Roda blinked. “I’m not a Tot anymore.”

“No,” Rassilon raised an eyebrow. “As you have demonstrated..” The President moved closer to the bed, looking down at Roda with heavy eyebrows. “Which is what I am here to talk to you about.”

Roda froze in the spot, craning her neck to look Rassilon in the eye. She didn’t like the sound of that. It was getting a little frustrating, today; older Time Lords talking as though they knew what was best. Knew everything. Whether it was the case or not.

“I don’t understand.”

“You are bright, Rodageitmososa.” He watched her for a second longer, and then turned around, picking up and shuffling her pile of papers. Roda’s stomach flipped as she prayed he wouldn’t read them. “But undisciplined.” His eyes narrowed at her notes (or lately, lack thereof) before he placed them down in a neat pile and sighed deeply. “I am told that your mind continues to wander in your classes, and that while you are not achieving an omega grade, neither are you passing with merits.”

Roda sighed. “I am passing.”

“But you are not applying yourself.” His voice was firm, but not cruel. Disappointed, perhaps. Roda scowled at her lap. “If you are to make something of yourself with your… extenuating circumstances, then you must do better than you are.”

It took all of Roda’s willpower not to lose her temper, the rollercoaster adrenaline of the day already threatening to get the better of her.

“I’m trying!” She ran a hand through her hair, completely undoing all attempts to tidy it. “I read, I study, I - I watch you work…!”

“You pay attention to the subjects that intrigue you,” argued Rassilon, “but a Time Lord must know everything. We cannot just do what we want.”

There was a bad taste in Roda’s mouth, and she looked up at Rassilon again, blinking back dampness in her eyes. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t had the responsibilities of a Time Lord drilled into her since she was eight years old. Their so-called importance, and the role they played across time and space. She knew that to be a Time Lord was to be something more in the universe than those who did not bear the weight of Gallifrey on her shoulders, and the idea that Rassilon thought she would fail at that…

She would not sulk, or cry. She was twenty nine years old now. She had plans. Just because she hadn’t thought to share those plans, or didn’t care much about quantum physics or dark matter, didn’t mean that she would account to nothing. She had centuries left in the Academy, plenty of time to learn what she didn’t know and to get better at what she did. Her TARDIS was doing well, she had already built her first sonic device under Rassilon’s guidance, and she at least understood the political system, even if she had no interest in it. No matter who Rassilon was, she would not let him talk down to her just as much as Borusa did. But if she spoke up, the stranger would only be right; Rassilon would lose his mind. 

“...I’ll do better,” she said quietly, biting the inside of her cheek and looking away. She dug the nails of one hand into the opposite wrist, focusing on that instead of her growing frustration. “I will not be a disappointment.”

“You will not.” Rassilon nodded, apparently satisfied by the answer. “As such, I have arranged for extra classes for you. Remedial work, until you are at least on par with your peers.”

“I-”

“It is not a request, Rodageitmososa, it is an order, and my word is final.” Rassilon lowered his voice, going from sharp to the voice he used in politics. Roda’s grip on her arm tightened. “Until you are achieving a grade of epsilon or better, you will attend your tutoring. Should they drop further, I need not remind you of our arrangement in my work room.”

“...yes, Lord Rassilon.”

The President sighed, resting his hand on Roda’s shoulder until she looked at him once more. For her part Roda did her best to look grateful and not upset. He wasn’t stopping her from helping him - one of the highlights of her day - but his judgement sat like lead in her stomach. She enjoyed tinkering and fixing things, making them do something that they hadn’t done before. It was a welcome break from the monotony of sitting in chairs and listening to people talk all day, and even the threat of having that privilege removed made her want to study even less. 

Fine then. As soon as he left, she would get back to reading about Robin Hood; at least until the tension died down. If she had to take her dinner in here and pretend that she was doing as she was told, then that was fine too. He could make her go to more classes, but he couldn’t stop what she did in her own room. At least, not if he didn’t know she was doing anything that he would command her to stop. And if she was one thing, it was too stubborn to let a challenge like that pass her by. She could do what he wanted and make him proud, and do what she wanted and make herself proud all at the same time. Even if it meant that she could sleep when she regenerated.

“Compromise is the sign of a wise Time Lord, Rodageitmososa. Improve your grade, and you will understand why I push you.” Rassilon let go of her shoulder, and Roda let out a breath she had been unknowingly holding in. “I have plans for you. I do not doubt you will achieve greatness.”

Without another word, Rassilon stepped out of her room once more and left Roda to her thoughts. As quietly as she could, she shuffled backwards across her bed so that she could rest her head on the wall, and closed her eyes with a snort of irritation. She doubted herself just fine, without anyone else doing it for her.

But something about his parting statement began to needle into her brain, even as she tried to remember what they had learned at the Academy  so far about controlling their emotions, as opposed to letting them control you. (Basic telepathy, but never her forté. There was just something she couldn’t quite grasp about building up a wall and keeping it there; a barrier kept things in as much as it kept them out.) She mouthed the words back to herself, not sure if he was still in earshot of her quarters.

“I have plans for you?” The side of her mouth took a dive. “What about my plans?”

Besides, she didn’t particularly want to achieve greatness. She just wanted to… be. Be something, but not the next Rassilon or Omega or a member of the Council or anything so grand and lofty.

If she had to be anything, she thought - retrieving her hidden book and looking once again at the illustration of Robin Hood on the cover, his bow primed - she would like to be a hero. Someone who did what was right, kept others alive and would die for a cause. Rassilon was a hero, no Time Lord in their right mind would argue that but he was not a protector of the meek, or a bastion of justice. He was the great Rassil Onasti Prydonius, First Earl of Prydon, Lord President, Conqueror of Yssgaroth. Without him, none of them would be there… but that was just what he was. Robin Hood, however, had found her through time and space. Even lightyears away and centuries dead, he was still a hero. That was what she wanted to be; a tinkerer who made something new and made something better. She couldn’t be that on Gallifrey; not yet. But if she continued to learn, who knew what could happen?

And she sure as Skaro wanted to make sure, now, that Rassilon was there to witness it.

Comments

[elisi]

This is a fascinating chapter.

Apart from the future reaching back to the past, helping to create it/nudge it in the right direction, watching it unfold is wonderful. Roda delving down into her destiny and knowing it's right, that this is where her path lies, that this is where she fits. It's beautifully laid out, piece by piece showing us why it works, why this is what's right for her. Like being taken by the hand and being led along, and watching everything fall into place.

And then Rassilon shows up, and it's obvious why they will fall out. The character differences are already there, and although a clash won't happen yet, it's easy to see why it eventually will. And it's quite simply because they are who they are. Excellent writing!

[schrodingers_time_lady]

Apart from the future reaching back to the past, helping to create it/nudge it in the right direction, watching it unfold is wonderful.
Thank you! I think in the past I just went "she knew everything immediately because Schism" and I wanted to take the real chance here to properly flesh it out? Since I'm writing her growing up, as it were.

Like being taken by the hand and being led along, and watching everything fall into place.
Yes! Building the Roda we 'know'; that's what this whole story is meant to do, so I hope I succeed.

And then Rassilon shows up, and it's obvious why they will fall out.
Not at all quickly (avoiding spoilers, here) but yes, precisely this. Right now, it's just teenage clashing really, but then Roda is going to get more independent and more Redjay and well... you'll see ;)

And it's quite simply because they are who they are. Excellent writing!
That, too. And aww THANK YOU! That means a lot.