#belovedtenth

The goddess was perplexed. She was no stranger to time travel, she had done it a few times, after all. But this was different. Clearly, this one had come from ahead of her, rather than behind.

Amaterasu yawned. He had heard her speak, then? He must be able to view her celestial markings, flames dancing upon her back as the divine mirror floated. She could sense a great sort of power from this man. 

An easy smile spreads on his features. “Ah yes. The beautiful young wife, of one Anakin yes? I have heard of you a thousand times over from Anakin himself. Though you must forgive me, that I do not remember him describing you as so beautiful and enchanting. He fails to capture what grace you have in person.” He bows to her gently, and the time lord hardly bowed to anyone. “It is good to finally meet you.”

It  must  had  been  the  same  sensation  Obi-Wan  had  feel:  a  short  discomfort  to  realize  choice  of  omission  of  past  events,  pretending  than  none  of  this  had  happened.  She  didn’t  really  came  in  person  for  get  informed  since  her  husband’s  Master  had  preferred  advised  at  once  her  son  ----  still,  regardless  of  duties  into  the  Senate,  sadness  get  recollected  into  his  expression.  They  were  both  linked  towards  an  important  silence  who  allowed  existence  inclining  into  a  warm’s  atmosphere  ---  they  both  knew  how  the  other  timeline  was  mean  to  be  cruel,  cannot  be  forgotten,  and  how  tragedy  was  laying  around  into  the  corridors.  How  far  would  be  able  to  tell  to  the  concerned  Time  Lord  about  their  mental  health,  when  every  concerned  player  was  focused  into  the  role  sending  to  them,  following  their  own  script  but  having  to  following  strict  rules  meanwhile  be  more  or  less  aware  of  how  immense  the  universe  was  ?  How  many  revelations  she  will  be  able  to  share  with  the  Doctor  about  a  happiness  illusion  who  was  preserved  regardless  of  the  new  elements,  regardless  how  nothing  wouldn’t  be  like  before  ?

Once  upon  a  time,  she  had  been  blinded  with  too  much  love  and  powerless  towards  the  interest  of  her  husband  about  his  visions  —  the  beginning  of  something  higher,  only  an  indication  there  was  something  more  within  him  —  into  a  distorted  reality  he  didn’t  wanted  to  happens  asking  to  a  celestial  being  to  seeing  a  other  side  if  he  was  failing  into  darkness.  In  one  way  or  another,  her  ‘wish’  created  the  origin  of  the  disaster:  the  end  couldn’t  not  anticipated  surely,  but  their  space  captain  concerning  temporary  companions  of  her  and  Obi-Wan  show  the  slow  degradation  of  the  Time  Lord  who  wanted  giving  them  a  rightful  happiness  —  avoiding  Dark  Vader  to  exist  at  all  cost,  and  avoiding  also  the  abandonment  caused  by  their  father  for  her  children…only  the  first  became  true.    The  second  was  the  reason  of  the  worst  mistake  of  a  witch  they  had  witnessed  frontally.  She  saw  the  universe  she  thought  she  knew  to  break  up  in  an  impossibility  and  the  false  reassurance  she  gave  to  a  son  of  other  timeline  (at  least,  the  initial  first  time;  not  the  second  when  it  was  already  fated)  would  burn  into  nonexistence.  Not  even  a  scenario  her  Ani  would  have  been  able  to  imagine.  Not  even  a  truth  she  would  be  allowed  to  say  anymore.  For  his  own  benefits,  this  emotional  immortal  had  to  remaining  distant  of  the  reality  of  what  happened  during  the  accomplishment  of  saving  Anakin.  For  the  sake  of  a  logic  who  trapped  them  constantly,  she  will  have  to  blooming  stronger  for  her  love.

“Well I never tire of that reaction.” Ten is highly amused, like a prideful creature he’s quick to puff out his chest and appear unlike the noble Time lords but the true mad man with his box. “I don’t know how you stumbled into my box dear, but hey. You’ll be shocked to see that she’s much smaller on the outside my old girl. But don’t tell her that. She thinks the mightiest and strongest vessel in the world and I’d rather not damper that image to be honest.”

“Thinks?” Emma repeats, and there is no reason to doubt that because clearly there is some alien-ness at work, so without missing a beat, she smiles and pats the side of a wall, "No, he's right, you are massive and beautiful. Lots of lights, which I really appreciate." That said, she looks back to the man, alien who sounds British? inhuman like her? future person?, and grins because he has shown no sign he's about to kill her.

“A broken TARDIS and a universe to sail her by - that’s The Doctor’s way...”

Send “🏥” for a starter of my muse visiting yours in the hospital.

“So you wanna tell me how you ended up here?” He laughs to her, crossing his arms. “A hospital bed really doesn’t suit someone like yourself. At least not to me. I’m not a real doctor so if you had gotten hurt on my watch, I wouldn’t have been able to properly help ya. I just have that title in a more--metaphorical sense.” He takes the wheeled stool usually reserved by the doctors, and takes a delightful spin to her bed side. “But I am glad you are all fixed up. Nasty Hospitals are though. Last one I was in was run by evil nun cats.”

“Only if you promise not to laugh.” He already has laughed, just a bit, but it was only a tiny one and she’s not awfully serious anyway. Add to that it’s a relief to see someone actually chatty and fun, instead of medics either harried or overly stern. Not that the second kind can be blamed, because she’s a prickly patient at the best of times. “I was fixing roofing tiles on a barn and fell off the ladder.”

Pouring over a large, old text he hadn’t realized how long it had been since he had moved from that spot. A smooth white desk, with a semi-cushioned roll wheeled chair, all courtesy of Luke’s kindness as he made himself at home at his base. Ten was intrigued by this planet and world’s culture so he busied himself with reading whenever Luke was in meetings or busy off on his own missions. Once he heard the sound of the cup hit the desk’s smooth surface he turned his head and saw the young jedi. A fondness would always linger in those eyes, for him--and for the family he had around him. “My goodness Luke, you needn’t spoil me.” He chuckles as he takes a long, warm sip from the mug. “I see you came back in one piece huh? That’s good. I sure hope you have a good tale to share with me then while I take my reading break.”

Usual  perception  of  a  Game  Master  was  how  easily  he  could  have  total  control  of  his  chessboard:  deciding  where  the  story  will  lead,  which  conclusions  and  which  meaning  was  supposed  to  be  hear,  which  decisions  the  pieces  will  take  remove  any  kind  of  surprise…when  daily  life  would  be  just  another  game  awaiting  spectators  for  their  opinions.  Theoretically,  a  chessboard  based  on  free  will  risk  out  of  control  points  even  for  the  Game  Master  since  outside  elements  weren’t  from  his  cause,  to  be  unbalanced  —  which  was  true  but  generated  always  an  inner  mocking .  Did  witches  feared  independence  of  pieces  to  growing  into  something  more  of  what  they  were  supposed  to  be  written,  did  witches  feared  uncontrollable  reactions  of  their  toys  ?  How  exceptional  his  chessboard  survived  was  based  completely  on  notion  of  free  will  —  regardless  if  he  was  the  Game  Master,  he  remained  single  piece  among  others. As  Luke  Skywalker,  even  the  Rebellion  indebted  him,  he  was  another  member  of  their  team:  politics  tactics  and  selfish  ambitions  within  people  of  the  side  he  was  wouldn’t  hesitate  to  bring  danger  over  his  face,  to  using  him  if  necessary  or  accepting  a  sacrifice  on  his  part.  Though,  from  a  personal  perspective,  it  was  less  obvious  of  the  Jedi  Council  from  the  other  timeline  having  no  shame  about  pulling  too  much  on  Anakin  —  which  was  ironic,  since  as  a  last  Jedi  there,  he  had  to  considerate  how  he  was  going  to  create  a  new  Jedi  Order  without  reaching  same  problems.  Talks  were  into  other  approach,  since  that  quest  was  personal  on  their  eyes:  building  another  government  meanwhile  removing  last  pressure  of  the  Empire.  Although  involved  into  meetings  for  this  goal,  diplomatic  role  returned  to  her  sister  —  expecting  such  responsibilities  into  her  shoulders  and  knowing  herself  a  movable  pawn.  It  was  understandable  with  Mon  Mothma  ambitions:    she  needed  best  elements  on  her  side  for  allow  this  bright  future.  Like  Han  Solo,  he  was  mostly  inclined  to  roll  his  eyes  when  it  was  concerning  power  occupation  than  feeling  interested  —  he  didn’t  wanted  such  kind  of  things…  As  an  actor  director  he  acknowledged  their  desires,  inviting   them  not  be  attracted  by  temptation  ;  knowing  it  will  be  their  choice.  —  impacting  them  directly  on their  decisions.