Fic: 'The Captain of My Soul'
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irishvampire13
Title: 'The Captain of My Soul'
Rating: G
Word Count: 1,045
Prompt/Chosen character: In which the War Chief was totally the Master. (fromladysugarquill)
Notes/Warnings: None
Summary: No one else will dictate the terms of my existence: I will be the master of my fate.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll;
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
~*~ William Ernest Henley
from 'Invictus'
I fled my planet in order to free myself, to be rid of the petty whims of those who dared believe that they had the right to decide my fate for me. Having a mind of my own, it was not my desire to languish beneath another's control.
It was an unfortunate twist of that same fate--I refuse to call it foolishness or naïveté--that led me to the War Lord. I've rued many times since the day that I agreed to aid him in his schemes. For it was not long before I found myself chafing once again under someone's thumb.
It was the very thing I'd tried to escape when I'd left Gallifrey. Such a bitter irony.
I was now a virtual slave. A mere servant, a position unfitting for one of my dignity. And then, after all that I'd done for him, to lose one of my lives at the War Lord's hands. The sheer depth of his treachery and ingratitude was absolutely sickening. Was death to be my sole reward for serving him? Did I or did I not deserve far better?
Luckily, my kind are rather difficult to kill. It is just as fortunate that the regenerative process could be suspended until the chaos had died down. "Playing 'possum"...I believe that is the colloquial term for it. It's a handy trick.
I'm not sure whether it's gratifying or disappointing that the Time Lords took care of the War Lord before I had the opportunity to deal with him. I wouldn't have minded the chance to avenge myself; indeed, I would have treasured it. But what's done is done; punishing the War Lord is hardly worth going back in Time for.
Never mind that he would have suffered exquisitely for having dared to toss aside one of my regenerations so callously. If anything, I think that his end was far too merciful. Had his demise been left up to me...
...he would have learned the ultimate meaning of Pain.
No matter. Water under the bridge, as they say.
I can't help but blame the Doctor for all that has come to pass since then. If only he'd had the sense to join with me...so many things could have been avoided. We could have stood hand in hand, partners and equals.
But no. The idiot had to throw away a golden opportunity, and instead call in our people to put a stop to everything that I'd helped to create. Of course; I should have expected as much from the Doctor. He always did choose the most inconvenient moments to play the fool.
Because of that obstinacy, I recovered from my postponed regeneration to find myself back on Gallifrey again. Because of the Doctor, I am now forced to face a tribunal, a trial before my so-called peers. I must stare down the very Time Lords I'd tried to defy. They have decided that I am to face consequences for my actions--as though they have the right to judge those very actions. A cardinal rule, that of noninterference, has been wilfully broken. They seem unimpressed by the fact that I am unrepentant; as a matter of fact, I would gladly do it all over again.
With, of course, a few rather significant changes. Others would bend to my will, if I could have my way.
But I'd be wasting my breath, to say such things to my fellow Time Lords. An attitude such as mine is already unwelcome.
And there seems no point to reminding them that the Doctor has broken their laws many times over, himself. No, they've already seen to him. It seems to me that they were unnecessarily lenient with the man. Yes, it may have cost him a regeneration, just as it did me. But at least he isn't trapped on this stagnating world. He ought to count himself fortunate to be exiled to that primitive little backwater of a planet that he's always seemed so partial to. The sentimental moron. Much good may Earth and his precious humans do him.
And what of me? My punishment is to be less gentle, it would seem.
For I have had the unmitigated gall--in the eyes of my race--to tamper with the workings of Time. To manipulate History to serve selfish ends. I have, according to their narrow-minded vision, betrayed the secrets and technology of our people to those who would use them for corrupt purposes.
So they condemn me, imprison me here. On Gallifrey. On the very planet I wished to escape. Trapped beneath their prying eyes until they decide that I have learned my lesson. However long it may take.
Simply because I dare to do the things they dare not dream. Because I refuse to be just another coward, fearing my own powers. Because I embrace them, instead.
The self-righteous, sanctimonious simpletons. As though they could truly confine me here.
Unfortunately, for the time being, they can. The capability is theirs, and it is powerful. More powerful than my own desire for freedom.
But not for long. I am nothing if not patient; I can well afford to be. So I will pretend to submit to their will. For now, that is.
Because my captivity cannot--will not--last. I will not permit it.
The time will come when I may again break free of this place, of these intangible shackles that keep me here against my will. I will be free to roam the universe, to go where and when I please. To do as I see fit.
And damned be those who would dare oppose me. They will learn what it means to impede my progress. They will learn the penalty for so much as trying.
The penalty will be dire, indeed.
I will be no man's lackey; I will cater to no whims but my own. I will be held accountable to none.
No one else will dictate the terms of my existence: I will be the master of my fate.
The master of my fate...yes...there's a pleasing notion...
I will be the Master...
irishvampire13Title: 'The Captain of My Soul'
Rating: G
Word Count: 1,045
Prompt/Chosen character: In which the War Chief was totally the Master. (from
ladysugarquill)Notes/Warnings: None
Summary: No one else will dictate the terms of my existence: I will be the master of my fate.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll;
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
~*~ William Ernest Henley
from 'Invictus'
I fled my planet in order to free myself, to be rid of the petty whims of those who dared believe that they had the right to decide my fate for me. Having a mind of my own, it was not my desire to languish beneath another's control.
It was an unfortunate twist of that same fate--I refuse to call it foolishness or naïveté--that led me to the War Lord. I've rued many times since the day that I agreed to aid him in his schemes. For it was not long before I found myself chafing once again under someone's thumb.
It was the very thing I'd tried to escape when I'd left Gallifrey. Such a bitter irony.
I was now a virtual slave. A mere servant, a position unfitting for one of my dignity. And then, after all that I'd done for him, to lose one of my lives at the War Lord's hands. The sheer depth of his treachery and ingratitude was absolutely sickening. Was death to be my sole reward for serving him? Did I or did I not deserve far better?
Luckily, my kind are rather difficult to kill. It is just as fortunate that the regenerative process could be suspended until the chaos had died down. "Playing 'possum"...I believe that is the colloquial term for it. It's a handy trick.
I'm not sure whether it's gratifying or disappointing that the Time Lords took care of the War Lord before I had the opportunity to deal with him. I wouldn't have minded the chance to avenge myself; indeed, I would have treasured it. But what's done is done; punishing the War Lord is hardly worth going back in Time for.
Never mind that he would have suffered exquisitely for having dared to toss aside one of my regenerations so callously. If anything, I think that his end was far too merciful. Had his demise been left up to me...
...he would have learned the ultimate meaning of Pain.
No matter. Water under the bridge, as they say.
I can't help but blame the Doctor for all that has come to pass since then. If only he'd had the sense to join with me...so many things could have been avoided. We could have stood hand in hand, partners and equals.
But no. The idiot had to throw away a golden opportunity, and instead call in our people to put a stop to everything that I'd helped to create. Of course; I should have expected as much from the Doctor. He always did choose the most inconvenient moments to play the fool.
Because of that obstinacy, I recovered from my postponed regeneration to find myself back on Gallifrey again. Because of the Doctor, I am now forced to face a tribunal, a trial before my so-called peers. I must stare down the very Time Lords I'd tried to defy. They have decided that I am to face consequences for my actions--as though they have the right to judge those very actions. A cardinal rule, that of noninterference, has been wilfully broken. They seem unimpressed by the fact that I am unrepentant; as a matter of fact, I would gladly do it all over again.
With, of course, a few rather significant changes. Others would bend to my will, if I could have my way.
But I'd be wasting my breath, to say such things to my fellow Time Lords. An attitude such as mine is already unwelcome.
And there seems no point to reminding them that the Doctor has broken their laws many times over, himself. No, they've already seen to him. It seems to me that they were unnecessarily lenient with the man. Yes, it may have cost him a regeneration, just as it did me. But at least he isn't trapped on this stagnating world. He ought to count himself fortunate to be exiled to that primitive little backwater of a planet that he's always seemed so partial to. The sentimental moron. Much good may Earth and his precious humans do him.
And what of me? My punishment is to be less gentle, it would seem.
For I have had the unmitigated gall--in the eyes of my race--to tamper with the workings of Time. To manipulate History to serve selfish ends. I have, according to their narrow-minded vision, betrayed the secrets and technology of our people to those who would use them for corrupt purposes.
So they condemn me, imprison me here. On Gallifrey. On the very planet I wished to escape. Trapped beneath their prying eyes until they decide that I have learned my lesson. However long it may take.
Simply because I dare to do the things they dare not dream. Because I refuse to be just another coward, fearing my own powers. Because I embrace them, instead.
The self-righteous, sanctimonious simpletons. As though they could truly confine me here.
Unfortunately, for the time being, they can. The capability is theirs, and it is powerful. More powerful than my own desire for freedom.
But not for long. I am nothing if not patient; I can well afford to be. So I will pretend to submit to their will. For now, that is.
Because my captivity cannot--will not--last. I will not permit it.
The time will come when I may again break free of this place, of these intangible shackles that keep me here against my will. I will be free to roam the universe, to go where and when I please. To do as I see fit.
And damned be those who would dare oppose me. They will learn what it means to impede my progress. They will learn the penalty for so much as trying.
The penalty will be dire, indeed.
I will be no man's lackey; I will cater to no whims but my own. I will be held accountable to none.
No one else will dictate the terms of my existence: I will be the master of my fate.
The master of my fate...yes...there's a pleasing notion...
I will be the Master...