Daniel was practically hanging on John's words and watching the man with a mix of embarrassed fascination and surprise. This didn't just sound like John knew the Doctor very well, it sounded incredibly personal on John's end, as if the Doctor had done something to hi- Something seemed to snap right then, something invisible, too fast to fully register. Daniel appeared frozen in place when the other man turned around, breath stuttering out. The archaeologist stared intently through the bookshelf. His mouth moved silently-
"-to you, Romana," said Daniel. He wiped at the ash on his face, but it only succeeded in smearing a wide path across a cheek. He didn't notice. "Modest and proud. A dangerous combination."
Romana wisely ignored the sarcasm. "It's different this time, Doctor," she continued. She was actually whispering conspiratorially. She was quite good at it. Daniel also didn't think it suited her. The conspirator act, that is, because like everything she touched, she had mastered the actual whisper quickly. But there was always more to a decent conspirator's whisper than just technique. "The end of the War is coming. The Lord President called a meeting of the High Council earlier today."
Daniel didn't have time for politics. This wasn't the first time someone had promised an end to the War. He felt especially old just then. Tired. Very old and very tired, and he wasn't even the oldest Time Lord in record. But after everything he'd gone through in his lives, he might as well be. The run in with Sabbath and then the matter with Zagreus in particular had aged him. Romana could see it and he knew she could see it, but she never said it. It was in the eyes, Daniel thought. And maybe the fact that he'd even agreed to join the front lines in the first place. There was a time once when the idea of him leading a war was unthinkable. Things were different now. Daniel was done being lenient. The Daleks had been given multiple chances to change, and ultimately, time and again blew their right to exist.
It was just hard knowing who to trust these days. At least with the Daleks, you could be sure from the start what one wanted. That was the marvelous thing about murderous pepper pots with a one track mind. They were astoundingly easy to predict, so you knew where you stood. Romana? Daniel was sure he could trust her still.
"Don't tell me. Initiative this, Initiative that, Initiative 'that Will Undoubtedly End the War this time', etcetera etcetera-"
"Doctor," Romana rarely had to raise her voice, but this time she did. "I think we need to talk."
Daniel didn't get to find out what this woman wanted to talk about. The world shifted around him. It was a jumble of images. Daniel felt his hands dig into the shelf, painfully, teeth grinding. His eyes reflexively flew shut. That red head flashed by again, then Empress of the Racnoss. All that water-
He was wet, soaked even! and looking upwards, wondered when he'd fallen into a copy of Alice in Wonderland. The view was dizzying, the library spiraling above him, books falling like snow. The TARDIS groaned. It was a good thing the pool broke his fall, because he preferred to avoid another regeneration so soon-
I am so sorry, i got sort of carried away.
"-to you, Romana," said Daniel. He wiped at the ash on his face, but it only succeeded in smearing a wide path across a cheek. He didn't notice. "Modest and proud. A dangerous combination."
Romana wisely ignored the sarcasm. "It's different this time, Doctor," she continued. She was actually whispering conspiratorially. She was quite good at it. Daniel also didn't think it suited her. The conspirator act, that is, because like everything she touched, she had mastered the actual whisper quickly. But there was always more to a decent conspirator's whisper than just technique. "The end of the War is coming. The Lord President called a meeting of the High Council earlier today."
Daniel didn't have time for politics. This wasn't the first time someone had promised an end to the War. He felt especially old just then. Tired. Very old and very tired, and he wasn't even the oldest Time Lord in record. But after everything he'd gone through in his lives, he might as well be. The run in with Sabbath and then the matter with Zagreus in particular had aged him. Romana could see it and he knew she could see it, but she never said it. It was in the eyes, Daniel thought. And maybe the fact that he'd even agreed to join the front lines in the first place. There was a time once when the idea of him leading a war was unthinkable. Things were different now. Daniel was done being lenient. The Daleks had been given multiple chances to change, and ultimately, time and again blew their right to exist.
It was just hard knowing who to trust these days. At least with the Daleks, you could be sure from the start what one wanted. That was the marvelous thing about murderous pepper pots with a one track mind. They were astoundingly easy to predict, so you knew where you stood. Romana? Daniel was sure he could trust her still.
"Don't tell me. Initiative this, Initiative that, Initiative 'that Will Undoubtedly End the War this time', etcetera etcetera-"
"Doctor," Romana rarely had to raise her voice, but this time she did. "I think we need to talk."
Daniel didn't get to find out what this woman wanted to talk about. The world shifted around him. It was a jumble of images. Daniel felt his hands dig into the shelf, painfully, teeth grinding. His eyes reflexively flew shut. That red head flashed by again, then Empress of the Racnoss. All that water-
He was wet, soaked even! and looking upwards, wondered when he'd fallen into a copy of Alice in Wonderland. The view was dizzying, the library spiraling above him, books falling like snow. The TARDIS groaned. It was a good thing the pool broke his fall, because he preferred to avoid another regeneration so soon-