But I Have Promises To Keep

[The First Doctor]

"Now it''s time we get Robin Goodfellow back and murder that dear father of mine once and for all, shall we? We cannot have my dear Godfather missing during the festivities, can we?" She smile, the grin spreading across her face as her eyes glowed up.

"It'sha good plan, Princess," the Redcap slurred, woozy from loss of blood, "Tha killin'sha good plan."

Her hands stroked over the controls, ghosting over the telepathic connections.

What shall we do, Goddess? Save Robin or take care of our intruder?

The gestalt opened. **He has the primary console, Sisilaya,** the gentle, impossibly huge voice whispered, a ghost of pain in her voice. **You could counter his actions from here, but you cannot lock him out from my systems. You are my mistress now, but he is the controller. And his actions threaten my higher neural functions.**

Fear and love and loss washed over Sisi. **I want my Meddler back, but Xandavier will not allow it.**

[The Master]

The Could've-Been King watched the interplay between the assorted Meddlers and the Specialist - the people that could have been his parents - with amusement. Briefly, he considered making juvenile 'sick' sounds at the her display of affection, but instead chose to just be amused by how out of his depth the Meddlers looked.

Finally, just as he was starting to get bored, she turned her gaze on him. "I can understand, you never planned to do any of that. I can taste the council's plots in many things."

Never planned to do it? The words were right on the tip of his tongue, because his betrayal had been planned out right from the moment he'd realized what he was. But then, the Specialist caught him off guard.

She wrapped her arms around him, holding him like a child. He stiffened at the unexpected contact, seeing the Meddlers do the same.

"What..." he asked, confused, "What are you doing?"

"Hurt me, and you'll never get out." She teased lightly.

"I know, yeah," he said, squirming uncomfortably in the surprisingly pleasant grip. But, what are you doing?"

She pushed back his hair and frowned. She reached down on her desk and pulled out a wet napking from a small container there. "Well then, if you are indeed my son that could've been, you are going to sit still and tell your father what you have to say, while I clean up your hands and face."

The Could've-Been King gaped, stunned, at her actions. Worse, as she scrubbed at his face, he could hear the laughter of the Meddlers.

[The First Doctor]

"No, I'm not insane." She said in response as she straightened and shrugged her shoulders a little. "I Would've Been Queen, Meddler. Do you know the power that carries with it."

"No," the Meddler that was still holding her said, "Not really. I would have assumed it to be a largely ceremonial office, rather like being the Lord President."

"Possibly with access to potent regalia," added another Meddler, "Like the Sash of Rassilon, or the Key of the Keeper of the Matrix."

"Right now, I'm doing what must be done, to get us out of here." She said this and then cupped the cheeks of one of his forms.

"But..." said that Meddler.

"But..." echoed another.

"That's..." a third remarked.

The others groaned aloud in frustration. "There has to be another way!" that first Meddler insisted.

She pressed her forehead to his and smiled softly. "I'm half tempted to forge a pathway, where we can just talk." She taunted softly and kissed him on the tip of the nose.

The affectionate kiss, combined with the unexpected (and long impossible) psychic insight into her emotions, caught him off guard. Caught them all off guard, as the sensation flashed through all of the Meddlers, stirring emotions and responses that were not so much alien to him as simply long-buried. He knew what he wanted to do, but had spent so long ignoring (or hiding from) those feelings that he wasn't sure what he should do.

The look of cynical amusement on the face of the Could've-Been King did not help matters. Or improve his mood.

On the other hand, the sight of the Could've-Been King, twitching and uncomfortable under the Specialist's maternal affections..? Yeah, that improved his mood. A little, anyway.

The King began to speak, sounding a little awkward. "The weak point? Well, they'll be found at any probabilistic strong decision point. Any place where Time could have changed completely."

He grinned, broadly. "Like, say, where the Doctor made his decision not to go to war with the Council."

[Sisilaya Vulmecura]

The presence washed over her again as the gestalt opened to her, her eyes starting to glow immediately at the contact of energies.

**He has the primary console, Sisilaya,** the gentle, impossibly huge voice whispered, a ghost of pain in her voice. **You could counter his actions from here, but you cannot lock him out from my systems. You are my mistress now, but he is the controller. And his actions threaten my higher neural functions.**

Fear and love and loss washed over Sisi. **I want my Meddler back, but Xandavier will not allow it.**

'I will get your Meddler back, I promise.' She answered back. She would rather throw herself into open space then give this magnificent creature over to the filthy hands of her father. She focussed her attention more directly to the gestalt.

'I can fly us back to the beginning of the Gallifreyan time hole Robin had showed us. But I need you to re-establish the portal to the time war from here. While you keep the doors open and call out to Robin.. I will distract Xandavier with our good passengers so he will not interfere.'

She took a deep breath, she hoped that this would work.

[The First Doctor]

'I will get your Meddler back, I promise.' She answered back. She would rather throw herself into open space then give this magnificent creature over to the filthy hands of her father. She focussed her attention more directly to the gestalt.

'I can fly us back to the beginning of the Gallifreyan time hole Robin had showed us. But I need you to re-establish the portal to the time war from here. While you keep the doors open and call out to Robin.. I will distract Xandavier with our good passengers so he will not interfere.'

She took a deep breath, she hoped that this would work.

**The modifications are still in place,** the gestalt answered, **They will work, provided Lord Xandavier takes no action to tamper with them. But I cannot open the door, if Xandavier prevents it. And it must be that door which opens. None other will reestablish the portal.**

The gestalt was silent for a moment. **Sisilaya,** she said with a note of alarm, **Lord Xandavier is preparing to dematerialize.**

From a distance, the grinding roar of the time rotor could be heard.

[Sisilaya Vulmecura]

**The modifications are still in place,** the gestalt answered, **They will work, provided Lord Xandavier takes no action to tamper with them. But I cannot open the door, if Xandavier prevents it. And it must be that door which opens. None other will reestablish the portal.**

The gestalt was silent for a moment. **Sisilaya,** she said with a note of alarm, **Lord Xandavier is preparing to dematerialize.**

''Isn't there some type of temporarily prison we can use to halt Xandavier's movements? It would greatly help. Robin hasn't told me how your defence mechanisms work, not yet.'' She was now talking out loud to the gestalt, she knew it could hear her. "And please don't call him Lord Xandavier.. you are his superior, don't forget that." She said with a smile.

Her head turned towards the sound of the time rotor, her eyes narrowing and her face looking almost predatory with focus. A grin broke to her face and she ran to the other side of the console, starting to punch in the coordinates to where they had come from. Where they had left Robin. She pushed the final button, chuckling softly as the TARDIS made a bit of a surge. She had changed the coordinates to the TARDIS destination. Override. She slammed her hand down on one of the larger red buttons, locking down the coordinates.

"I will go back to the console room then and make sure my father does not tamper with anything anymore. We're going to get Robin back, you hear!"

The goblins gave a cry of war again as they charged through the door after she opened it yet again, she couldn't keep hiding in that room. She took a deep breath through her nostrils, her jaws tightening as she unsheathed her daggers, holding them at her sides ready to charge. Her guns seemed to have no effect on him, she had to get up close and personal. If he tried torturing again she'd just.. she'd have to stay focussed. Somehow.

[Xandavier]

Accessing the internal monitoring systems of the TARDIS, Xandavier watched with a degree of mild irritation as the minor sidhe overwhelmed, bound and gagged, and disposed of Sister of Mine down a shaft that had appeared in the secondary control room. He frowned at the sight of the shaft, and of the open door, and his hands flew over the controls.

It was an extradimensional space, projected into the TARDIS through the door, but directed by Sisilaya at the secondary control panel. He smiled, thinly. She was poorly trained, true, but he still felt a mild touch of paternal pride at the way she was able to manipulate the controls.

She may indeed be a worthy heir, he thought, with sufficient training.

But that was a matter for the future. She was still defiant, and she needed to be brought to heel.

With that thought in mind, he set the coordinates. Earth. The 50th century, anno domini reckoning. Dunhang, the capital of of the Empire of Tsan Chan. His empire, and the crucible in which he had begun refining his willful daughter.

With a final flick of the actuation lever, the time rotor roared to life. Satisfied, he placed his hands on the telepathic circuits and entered the gestalt.

"...please don't call him Lord Xandavier.. you are his superior, don't forget that."

"Ah, but you are wrong... daughter." The gestalt picked up the sidebands and subbands of thought as well. Xandavier was too skilled to allow much emotional leakage, but there was a hint of wry amusement around the words. "A TARDIS is a tool, nothing more. It is no more my superior than a meson driver or a planck spanner. Although," and there was a touch of vexation around the words, "I am concerned at the degree of willfullness this model shows."

There was a burst of mental static as Xandavier accessed log files. "Ah, I see. My Lord the Meddler has neglected routine maintenance, and has not flushed the ego buffers in... centuries." A pause, tinged with disapproval. "Therein lies the trouble. Once they are purged, daughter, this TARDIS will be properly obedient..."

He sensed Sisilaya changing the coordinates, and the pitch of the time rotor altered. His hands broke contact with the telepathic circuits, checking the destination. The coordinates were ones he knew - indeed, all Time Lords knew - by heart: ten-zero-eleven-zero-zero by zero-two from galactic zero center.

Gallifrey.

And the whelp had locked them in. They could not be changed before arrival.

"What are you playing at, daughter?" he asked the air mildly.

He watched Sisilaya and the minor sidhe run through the corridors, weapons drawn. With an indulgent smile, he pulled up the systems to modify the interior architecture of the ship. The displays blinked, claiming to be offline.

Xandavier sighed. "Very well, then. I suppose I shall have to dirty my hands. But first..?" He moved to a different station, and manipulated the controls. "First, a long overdue ego buffer purge and memory defragmentation. I will not abide poorly maintained equipment."

He initiated the sequence. From somewhere deep in the bowels of the TARDIS, a voice of inhuman beauty began to sing.

[Sisilaya Vulmecura]

She tried to lock out Xandaviers voice the best she could as she worked around the gestalt. Clenching her teeth to keep her temper down. He was goading her, she knew this. She wasn't going to fall for it. She kept her mouth shut, clearly ignoring his words.

She squared her shoulders as the entered the main control room again, immediately catching sight of her fathers long white hair. It was part of the irony that in this regeneration he actually looked like a Sidhe.

"First, a long overdue ego buffer purge and memory defragmentation. I will not abide poorly maintained equipment."

She had to keep herself from charging at him right on, it would benefit no one. But by Danu she wanted to punch this man till there wasn't an inch of white skin left. She fully entered the room as the Bean Si started singing, her footsteps soft on the pristine floor as she entered the room like she owned it. Which she did when Robin wasn't present. The flock of goblins and brownies spread around her like a pool of water. teeth bared at the Time Lord in anger.

"I'm so sick of your arrogance, Xandavier. That while you've stooped down to trying to steal someone else's TARDIS. Oh how the mighty have fallen." She said with contempt, openly sneering at him as she rounded in on him.

Then, all of a sudden she made a sprint for him and full out punched him across the face with the hilt of her dagger, the metal snapping across his cheek. As he lost his momentum she lunged after him and pounced with her full weight, bringing him down to the floor. Even though he was almost a good head taller then her, thank to him she was battle trained like a war machine. Her daggers clattered next to his head as her hands buried themselves in his hair to hold him down. Back in her mind she was going haywire though, she hadn't been this up close to her father since she was a little girl, it felt surreal.

"You.Will.Not.Touch.HER!" She snarled menacingly. She gripped on the long white hair at his temples and cracked his head into the floor with all the power she could muster.

You need to do it from here, Goddess. I will keep him down but you need to bring our Meddler back! She cried out mentally to the gestalt with all the power she could, she couldn't reach the telepathic circuits after all and saying such things out loud would be a problem with Xandavier in the room.

[Seren Ash]

The Specialist seemed to get a faraway look for a moment. Her eyes swirling silver and black as it tilted back. Her eyes snapped closed and then opened, tilting down as she stared at them. "We need to go, NOW." She stated as she shook her head a little. She felt it coming, something bad, something horrible. She stared at her hands and let the energy pour towards them, ready, and pulsing. She felt like she was glowing like a mini-sun, and she probably was.

"It is time to get to this point, I have the power, King you will direct us to what each of us must do. Meddler, we have to get to your TARDIS." She stated as she shuddered from head to foot. Then she started off out of the Hall, breaking her cycle. Breaking this cycle and feeling rather good about all of this. She continued to stride down the halls, staring at the bodies on the ground. She was done saving many, for once she must be selfish and only save a few. She had already done her duty to Gallifrey.

A ship full of Cryogenicly sealed children, were up out there somewhere, calmly resting. Calmly slowly released as each generation was trained. And when she was out of here, she would find them, and she and Meddler would be the new Schism.

[Xandavier]

She had to keep herself from charging at him right on, it would benefit no one. But by Danu she wanted to punch this man till there wasn't an inch of white skin left. She fully entered the room as the Bean Si started singing, her footsteps soft on the pristine floor as she entered the room like she owned it. Which she did when Robin wasn't present. The flock of goblins and brownies spread around her like a pool of water. teeth bared at the Time Lord in anger.

Xandavier looked up from the console, genuinely surprised but unwilling to show it. Clearly, he decided, I misunderstood the internal topology of this TARDIS. Then he smiled, welcomingly. "Ah, daughter," he purred, "Has the prodigal returned at last?"

"I'm so sick of your arrogance, Xandavier. That while you've stooped down to trying to steal someone else's TARDIS. Oh how the mighty have fallen." She said with contempt, openly sneering at him as she rounded in on him.

"Stolen?" his voice dripped innocence and sarcasm. "My darling, my Lord the Meddler stole this TARDIS from Gallifrey. As I am most likely the sole remaining member of the High Council, I am fully empowered to recover our stolen property. And we begin with... this."

He pushed the button, initiating the ego buffer purge.

Then, all of a sudden she made a sprint for him and full out punched him across the face with the hilt of her dagger, the metal snapping across his cheek. As he lost his momentum she lunged after him and pounced with her full weight, bringing him down to the floor. Even though he was almost a good head taller then her, thank to him she was battle trained like a war machine. Her daggers clattered next to his head as her hands buried themselves in his hair to hold him down. Back in her mind she was going haywire though, she hadn't been this up close to her father since she was a little girl, it felt surreal.

Xandavier crashed to the ground, orangish blood flowing from split skin along his cheekbone, the air exploding from his lungs as his daughter's weight struck his abdomen. He cursed himself for a fool, for not having been more on his guard, then banished the thought. It would not help.

"You.Will.Not.Touch.HER!" She snarled menacingly. She gripped on the long white hair at his temples and cracked his head into the floor with all the power she could muster.

He saw stars, his eyes unfocusing momentarily. Sisi's weight continued to compress his lungs. Time slowed down around him as, by reflex as much as training, he warped time around him. It was difficult. His lungs ached for air, and he could feel the TARDIS resisting the manipulation of its internal time flow.

Venyu sankido is a brutal martial art form, particularly when used by someone who knows his opponent well.

Xandavier snapped his head up as Sisi snarled at him, wincing as hair tore from his scalp, driving his forehead into her nose. As he did he shaped a mental assault, reawakening her memories of the murder of her child and forcing her to relive them. It was a dangerous ploy, he knew, but in combination with the pain of a possibly-broken nose it would serve to stun her for a second or two.

And the rage it would kindle would make her sloppy.

As she jerked back, hands going limp with surprise, he twisted, threw her off, and rolled to his feet. And then he cried out in pain and fell, as something sharp tore into the back of his right knee.

"Killing!" shrieked a gleeful, manic voice.

[The First Doctor]

Tonks was a brownie. He had never considered himself particularly brave, but he'd never had to be brave. Just reliable and helpful, as long as he was paid in food and milk and never in clothing. But as the Princess attacked the wicked Lord, as he heard the Goddess of the Hall screaming in agony, as he heard the Bean Si begin to sing, he knew what he had to do.

He lept to the altar, pressing his hands to the sacred stones and begging forgiveness. His senses swam as the fear and pain of the Goddess flooded through him and, sobbing in terror, he allowed her to speak with his voice.

As he gibbered orders, the other brownies swarmed the console, working to terminate the ego buffer purge.

---

Meanwhile, Moorg and the other goblins hesitated. Their Princess was locked in mortal combat with the terrible Lord of Endings. They knew they should spring to her aid, but they quaked in fear at the thought of approaching the Usurper. And then she rocked backwards and fell, blood streaming from her face.

There was silence for a long second as, impossibly fast, the Time Lord rose to his feet. And then the Redcap screamed "Chlanna nan con thigibh a so's gheibh sibh feoil!" and charged, driving the point of his halberd deep into the back of his knee. Shrieking in pain, the Time Lord fell.

Heartened, the other goblins shrieked and raved as they hurled themselves against Xandavier.

---

The time rotor roared as the TARDIS approached its destination. His eyes burning, his voice echoing strangely, Tonks called "Abort the dematerialization sequence!"

A brownie at the navigation console did an odd little dance, hitting buttons in the correct sequence.

"Stand by to open 4-space interface port!"

A different brownie grabbed the lever with both hands.

The TARDIS shook with anticipation. She might not be able to oppose Lord Xandavier directly, but her Meddler could.

---

Two goblins died in less time than it takes to relate, as Xandavier's sword slashed from its scabbard. He was at a disadvantage, one leg crippled, lying on the floor, but he had a fearsome advantage as well.

The two goblins screamed as the cold iron of the blade grounded out their energy matrices, destroying them forever.

He smiled grimly. "Which of you will die next?"

---

"Open the door! OPEN THE DOOR!" Tonks howled.

[The Master]

"We need to go, NOW." She stated as she shook her head a little.

"That, mother-that-might-have-been, has been entirely my point for more than an hour now," the Could've-Been King agreed.

"It is time to get to this point, I have the power, King you will direct us to what each of us must do. Meddler, we have to get to your TARDIS." She stated as she shuddered from head to foot. Then she started off out of the Hall, breaking her cycle.

The Meddlers started to follow, when the King spoke up. "Actually," he said, "that's not the way we need to go." He jerked his head at one of the statues. "C'mon."

---

The King led the Specialist and the parliament of Meddlers through the passage behind the statue and through the tunnel into the old royal quarters. He was thoroughly enjoying the trip. Particularly debating with the Meddlers - he so infrequently got to talk theory.

"The thing is," one of the Meddlers was insisting, "that any point in spacetime can be a decision point."

Walking with his hands clasped behind his back, the King nodded. "True. Very true," he conceded.

"So we should be able to do this anywhere."

"Nope, da-Meddler," he grinned, "You need a strong decision point. One of those rare points where the trunk lines are weak, because major decisions hinge on them."

The Meddler was silent for a moment. "I see..." he said. "Yes, that makes sense."

They entered the old royal quarters. "This is it?" one of the Meddlers asked. "The place we plotted in?"

"Nope, not at all." The King smiled. "It's out there." He pointed out into Geometry, at the broken figures of the ancient heroes of Gallifrey's past.

---

"Right there," the King said. One of the Meddlers tapped at the ground with his cane, questioningly, and the King nodded.

"Right, then," that Meddler said. He began producing bits and things from his pockets - a hand mirror, an engraving needle, conductive ink, bits of copper wire. Squatting in the middle of the war-torn square, ignoring the conflict raging around him, he set to work on the mirror like a tailor.

The King and the other Meddlers glanced around nervously. "We're too exposed here," one of them observed. "Far too exposed."

"Shut up," mumbled the squatting Meddler, "I'm concentrating."

---

It took nearly twenty minutes, but the Meddler was finally satisfied.

For their parts, the King and the other Meddlers had not been bored. The Daleks had sent flankers out, trying to surround the defenders on the Royal Road, and there had been heated little skirmish when they had encountered the small group of would-be escapees. Three Meddlers had been blown to constituent atoms and a fourth was terribly wounded, but the travel machines lay scattered and broken, the loathsome life within extinguished.

"Specialist?" one of the Meddlers asked, holding up two lengths of twisted copper wire. "We'll only have a short window of opportunity once you do this. Pour as much power in as you can, and then step into the mirror."

"How are you going to close it, once we're through?" the King asked, curious.

The wounded Meddler raised his cane with lone, terribly burnt arm he had left. "I've got it," he gasped, gritting his teeth against the pain. "I'm pretty sure I'm just an echo anyway, and I there's no way I'll survive transit." He leaned back against the rubble, breathing hard.

"Go," he gasped. "Get out... of here."

The other Meddlers nodded sadly, and one of them offered the twisted wire again.

[Seren Ash]

The Speciliast listened rather carefully, and followed the King to where they needed to go. "You know, we need a name for you. Not a title, once we leave this place. Can I name you, or would you like to name yourself?" She said calmly as she walked down the hallway, she listened to them, and then she went into the area that they were all going to do what was needed. She calmly stood by, as the Meddler's dealt with the Darleks, and she also waited for when her time was there.

She stepped forward, her body beginning to glow even brighter. "Those of you who have believed me for so long, that have loved me and relied on me. I your Specialist, call on your aid. I need your power, your love and your worship." She wasn't saying the words, something else was pushing her to say them. As she glowed brighter, she found the power pouring out of her.

The mirror came to life, and she stepped through, her breath rushing from her as she felt that more power still lay there on the edges of her consciousness. She was still scarily powerful, and she wasn't quite sure how to use that power. But she had a task now, a place to go. She had a duty, and more to save. She was glowing, white hair floating around her, pale eyes holding a rather deadly look. The gem on her forehead glowing. Beneath her garments were other items, hidden beneath her clothing. Things she had saved, things that would be needed.

[Sisilaya Vulmecura]

Seeing his face distort in pain as she smashed his skull into the floor had felt fantastic, he had always laughed while she was suffering, now it was the other way around. She could feel the air shift as he started controlling with time, her hair seemed to slow around her as his forehead snapped up and crashed into her nose. Her face twisted with pain as blood leaked from her nostrils. Then before she knew it she was thrown off, the tall proud man coming to his feet so fast she could barely believe it.

That's when the memories came, and in combination with the pain she screamed, clutching her head as tears started to leak from her eyes. She remembered so well how she had been singled out in one of the attacks. Even though she was seven months pregnant they couldn't miss her healing right on the battle field. It had been a mistake though, instead of being killed she had been grabbed by the hair, dragged away to be singled out and then forced up a wall. A fist had come into her abdomen at full force, the face of the child's father twisted with rage as his fist blew a dent into her swollen abdomen. The rest she could barely remember from the collected pain, but by the time she had fallen through the ground into another time vortex she had been black, blue, bleeding heavily and just given birth to a dead premature infant. They had kept beating in on her so she'd have no time to heal her child inside of her before it died.

She screamed again and opened her eyes, Xandavier coming into view as she forced the memory back. Her hand clutched around one of her daggers as she groped along the floor for it. Clenching her fist around it she snarled as she drove the blade straight down into his foot and the floor, effectively pinning him there.

"You bastard" She snarled and drove her elbow full force into his nether regions, where it hurt most for a man.

Getting up to her feet she vaguely somewhere felt the TARDIS shift while neither of them were controlling it. Yet, she saw so red that she only had eyes from the crouched white haired man in front of her, holding onto his jewels for dear life.

"You watched my child die, you could have saved it! Your own grandchild!" She cried and drove all of her power into upper cutting him across the chin, throwing him off balance. His foot screaming in protest as it was still pinned painfully to the floor by her dagger.

"You took my LIFE" Tears were leaking down her face again, mingling with the blood from her nose as she pounded her fist into him at every inch of his body that came into her view. Indeed she was turning sloppy, but the amount of ferocity that he had elicited in her made up well for that.

[Xandavier]

He had, of course, expected a mixture of anger and misery from her. But, the product of a civilization that manufactured the next generation with automated Looms, he had not anticipated the berserk frenzy that anger and misery would produce.

His first realization came when, as the lesser sidhe fell back from his blade, the knife tore through his foot.

"You bastard" She snarled and drove her elbow full force into his nether regions, where it hurt most for a man.

Xandavier's eyes opened wide as he doubled over.

---

"Now!" the TARDIS screamed through Tonks, "OPEN THE DOOR!"

The brownie at the lever pulled and yanked. The door swung open, and the blinding, shifting light flooded the primary console room.

---

"You watched my child die, you could have saved it! Your own grandchild!" She cried and drove all of her power into upper cutting him across the chin, throwing him off balance.

He barely kept his balance, forcing himself to ignore the pain of the dagger ripping at flesh and chipping bone in his foot. The instinctive psychic component of the attack was the far greater threat at this moment, threatening to overwhelm his noospheric defenses.

"You took my LIFE" Tears were leaking down her face again, mingling with the blood from her nose as she pounded her fist into him at every inch of his body that came into her view. Indeed she was turning sloppy, but the amount of ferocity that he had elicited in her made up well for that.

Xandavier's arms were blurs of motion, from the perspective of any but another Time Lord, as he moved fast enough to block the majority of her blows. But not enough. He could feel bones crack in his ribs, bruising beginning slow his muscles. Hampered by blood loss and the dagger in his foot, he couldn't afford that.

"I gave you your life," he spat back, blocking a particularly sloppy roundhouse and twisting her arm, "I made you what you are." There was a creaking sound from her shoulder as he nearly dislocated it, before she broke his hold by kicking the dagger hilt. He hissed in agony and released her.

"And why," he asked, gritting his teeth as he dragged his wounded foot away, listening to the scrape of the dagger point on stone, "should I have cared about your freebirth?" The emphasis on the last word made it sound distasteful.

Her kick to his knee would have crippled him, had he not forced himself to throw his weight back on his wounded foot so he could twist his leg away. Instead, he caught the blow just above the kneecap, the pain exploding in his knee and in his foot. Vision black for a second, he heard and felt the dagger tear loose from his foot.

He blocked a jab, caught her wrist, and kneed her in the stomach to take the wind out of her, blood splashing from a foot nearly split open. "You, the accidental byblow of my banishment," he snarled, "were at least a mistake I could salvage. But the freebirth? Phah. A worthless assembly of random genes."

He jerked her wrist across his chest, and used the momentum to hammer her face into his elbow and then throw her to the floor.