Clash of swords in the hallways

[neverreallygone]

Characters: the Master, the Doctor
Rating: I'm going to go with R
Time Period: Modern
Location: A castle hallway
Relative Date: A few hours after the Doctor's transmission, and a few days after the snow fell
Status: Closed

Comments

[thedoctorx]

The Doctor continued to bind the Master's sword, shifting his weight appropriately when he felt his blade begin to pull away. He barely let him finish speaking before yelling back, "You're clever enough! You don't need a weapon!" His voice echoed eerily against the hollow corridor.

Then the Master pulled away, released his foil and stood back. It caught the Doctor by surprise and it took him a moment to regain his footing and composure. He held the sword to his side, as the Master theatrically offered himself to him like a sacrificial lamb. It was obvious to him this gesture came with a sense of security for the Master- he knew the Doctor would never take advantage of the opportunity to pierce him.

And that's exactly why the Doctor decided to raise his blade and skillfully tuck it underneath the Master's chin; firmly though not hard enough to draw blood. Eyes narrowed, he was visibly offended by the Master's taunting.

"And... what do you think would be the right thing to do in this situation, Master?" He raised an eyebrow. He knew exactly what the Master would likely do and he hoped he would follow his line of logic. He also didn't mind the empowering feeling of having a psychically clear advantage over him, if only for the moment.

"After all, it'd only take a flick of my wrist..."

[neverreallygone]

The Master stood very, very still, a pulse beating hard in his throat. The drums pounded in his head as he met the Doctor's challenging stare, adrenaline pouring through his veins.

The Doctor had taken him by surprise, but he wasn't complaining. This - this - was when he felt alive. When he had the Doctor engaging with him, sparring with him, paying him attention. Treating him, for once, as an equal.

His chin lifted and he smiled slowly. "You wouldn't," he said confidently, his voice low, his arms still spread wide, not even attempting to make the Doctor move his sword. "You might have done at one time, but not any more. Not now there are so few of us left. Not after begging me not to die, after weeping over my dead body. Twice."

He... didn't actually follow the Doctor's logic. The Master had a twisted logic all his own and he didn't really follow other people's very well.

[thedoctorx]

The Doctor stared back into him. He was thinking nothing of this moment, but of how things between them ever got so bad. He couldn't sort through his feelings fast enough to reach any sort of definite conclusion and acting upon what he thought was right was becoming more and more difficult as the seconds passed. He gripped the handle tighter in his hands and listened as the Master recounted how he had acted and what he had felt. He made it feel so much more real to him with mere words than he was able to recollect through his own memory.

It hurt so bad to feel something for someone that had willingly hurt others he cared about so awfully. He thought of Rose and Donna here, not bothering to go farther back in his mind where things between them had been more questionable. Hadn't he tried everything lately to make this right? Why couldn't the Master just let go?

"You're right," he said finally. "I wouldn't."

He began to lower the blade slowly from under his chin. "Because it'd hardly be fair if I took advantage of your surrender."

He stepped back and held the sword lazily on guard. "So, come on. Let's have a bout a bit more sporting- and... I won't be crying if you end up accidentally stabbed." He gave him a half-grin.

[neverreallygone]

The word 'surrender' stung through the Master. Whatever he'd intended to display with that gesture, he hadn't thought of it as surrender. On the contrary, it had been a taunt, a dare.

A dare he had just won.

The drumbeat thrummed through his body as he echoed the Doctor's movement, stepping back into position, a wild grin on his face. "I never surrender," he said fiercely. "And certainly not to you." He waggled his sword point derisively. "Come on then, Doctor. Show me what you've got!" And he lunged forward again, only too ready to fight.

[thedoctorx]

"Any last words?" he boosted back and then met his lunge with a deft deflection of his blade, followed this time by a strong riposte.

He had no idea where this was going or to what end they were fighting for. Never to the death, at least not for the Doctor, but then to what? The more they continued on, the more he found himself living for this moment and caring less what happened after the fighting stopped or even how it ever would.

[neverreallygone]

The Master laughed, dancing backwards out of the way. "I don't do last words," he taunted, which was a lie because just like the Doctor he did love getting the last word in, but he had no intention of dying so he meant it in that way, at least.

He darted in only to have the Doctor block his thrust again and he laughed, bizarrely happy. He'd gone after the Doctor initially in a rage (and the reason for that rage was not forgotten) but as the fight went on he couldn't help but feel exhilarated. The drums were loud in his head, clamouring with the excitement of battle, but for the moment he was in control.

Which was just as well, because as a swordsman, the Doctor was very much his equal. But that only made it more fun. The thrill of imminent danger thrummed through his body as he fought.

[thedoctorx]

The Doctor was enjoying himself more than he'd like to admit, though he wasn't trying to hide his enthusiasm either. He took every opportunity to show off, which naturally was reckless, but he did it with such precision, that it could hardly be considered brash to even a keen observer.

He stopped caring entirely about how or when this would end, which was really something remarkable for the Doctor to do. He didn't even think about whether or not anyone might be in their way as he backed himself blindly down a narrower corridor. The Doctor was completely lost to the fight.

[neverreallygone]

Oh, this was the Doctor at his very best. Quick, intent, brilliant - a most worthy opponent. For a while, the Master forgot everything that had gone between them. It was like old times, sparring with the Doctor. The quick cut and slash of swords, the darting movement of feet and bodies, the challenging gleam in the Doctor's eye, the excitement thrilling through him...

Then the lighting around them changed and he realised they were in a different corridor. Darker and narrower, making it harder to see and movement more restricted. He could still see the Doctor's pale, excited face though, and the flash of his sword in the lamplight. And he could see that the Doctor was backing himself towards a closed door at the end of the corridor.

The Master grinned secretively and pressed forward, backing the Doctor towards that door until he saw the shock in the Doctor's eyes as his back met solid wood. The Master moved in quickly, pressing against the Doctor and touching his sword to that long, pale throat again - not the tip of it this time, but the edge of the blade, held delicately in place as he stared, grinning, into the Doctor's eyes.

"Any last words, Doctor?" he panted, deliberately echoing the Doctor.

((OOC: Not quite sure how to end this, but I was thinking the Master's sword might slip and slit the Doctor's throat, and then he could cry over the Doctor's body for a change, or something?))

[thedoctorx]

The thump of his back against the door, shook the Doctor off-beat, causing his parry to falter too far from the Master's blade. On another day, he might have been able to fence himself free from the wall, but not today. His swordarm dropped back to his side and he felt his muscles only begin to twitch to raise it again, when the Master's sword fell against his throat and caused him to cease all action entirely.

Unlike, the modern-day foil, this predecessor had a serrated edge and the Doctor could feel the hard grooves of the blade pressed against his skin caused by, he guessed, years of spilled blood. He held onto the grip of his weapon for what would have to be some sense of security, because he knew the improbability of raising his sword to defend himself when the Master's blade was already in position. All that was needed now was a quick slip sideways.

"Can I catch my breath first?" he asked and then swallowed against the heavy heaves of his chest rising and falling. His hearts' rate from the bout wasn't slowing though by any means, it was pounding as he stood there and stared into the Master's eyes; openly terrified, but somewhere still there was evidence of clear admiration.

[[ooc: I'm good with that or whatever else may happen naturally- feel free.]]

[neverreallygone]

The Master grinned gleefully. He had no intention of actually following through on the threat his sword was posing, but oh, the look of sheer terror on the Doctor's face was intoxicating. The pale skin, the wide eyes, the quick movement of his chest as he gasped for breath. It was beautiful. The Master couldn't help but want to taste that a little longer.

He pressed in a little closer, leaning some of his bodyweight against the Doctor's thin frame, feeling the rapid double thud of the Doctor's hearts beating beneath his suit, and shifted the sword slightly so the Doctor could feel the serrated blade move against his skin. Still not breaking the skin, just reminding him of the threat.

"Better think fast, Doctor," he warned playfully. "Who knows how long before I might... slip."

((OOC: we shall wait and see what happens then! *g*))

[thedoctorx]

As the Master pushed against him, the sword fell automatically from the Doctor's fingers and landed with a metallic clunk against the hardwood floors. He remembered his hand letting go of it and a thought of surrounding completely to temper the Master, but once his means of defense was absolutely out of reach, the Doctor felt both confined and detached from any way out of the situation. After all, he hadn't had much luck lately at talking the Master down.

The Doctor gave him a grim smile. "You wouldn't slip, would you?" he asked between a tight breath.

"You know... you did good. Very skilled." It may have seemed like simple flattery to defuse their altercation, but the Doctor meant it only as a compliment. He was honestly impressed by the Master's swordsmanship, when he himself arrogantly assumed he would beat him.

"Let me up now, okay? You won."

Still he looked straight back at him, never breaking eye contact. His hearts hammered along and he gave up trying to fight it. He could feel the Master's hearts, too, and eventually their rhythms together became interlaced in his mind.

[neverreallygone]

But the Master was enjoying himself too much to want to let it be over that easily. Not with the Doctor captive, right here against him, hearts beating in time with each other, his in a way he hadn’t even been on the Valiant. And complimenting him too!

Even if it did take him a moment to realise it was a compliment and not a jibe. He was far more used to jibes, after all.

“I might slip,” he murmured, slanting the blade of his sword slightly so it caught the dim light from the oil lamps in the corridor. “You never know… You still haven’t given me those last words, Doctor,” he reminded him teasingly, eyes boring into the Doctors.

…The Master never had known when to stop.

[thedoctorx]

The Master could be famously predictable, but not always and it was in those moments where the Doctor found he was most dangerous. He really had little idea of what he was planning to do, or if he meant at all to make good on his threat. A part of him felt that he could take his life and that the delay in doing so was for pure satisfaction, but another part of him hoped this was just the icing on his victory and that he would let him go, on his own time, of course.

He swallowed deep, trying to choke down his quickened breaths into something less than racing. "Can't think of anything really meaningful right now," he answered. "Or really anything at all," he added after a moment.

The Doctor bore back into him; taking him in- confronting him with every ounce of his presence.

[neverreallygone]

“Well, that’s just not good enough,” the Master said viciously, giving the Doctor a little push with his body. Suddenly, this wasn’t so much fun any more. Suddenly, instead of surrendering, with all that lovely fear showing, the Doctor was pushing back, going all nonchalant and uncaring, and challenging in his stare.

That wasn’t what the Master wanted.

The drums pounded in his head as he stared at the Doctor, trying to work out how to get back that beautiful fear and respect from the Doctor.

[thedoctorx]

The Doctor could feel both physically and mentally that the Master was losing his grip. The mutual respect they shared seconds ago faded quickly away into nothing. But that's so often how it was for them and the Doctor knew he might need to draw the Master back in at a moment's notice.

He softened his expression; put his defiance on hold. He wasn't acting per say, but he did very much want this to alleviate some of the tension. "What if I told you a secret?"

The Doctor searched his eyes and waited.

[neverreallygone]

“What?” The Master’s forehead creased as he stared at the Doctor almost blindly. He was so lost in the drums and the crash after the excitement of the fight and the Doctor’s surrender that the Doctor’s question seemed to have come out of nowhere. He’d forgotten what he’d asked of the Doctor.

He’d forgotten too about the sword he still held across the Doctor’s throat, held by a hand whose knuckles were white with tension.

“What secret?”