A/N: For a standard disclaimer see my profile. The lyrics on top are from "Gold Dust" by Tori Amos.

All right. As some of you might know, I don't like drabbles, so when I sat down and wrote one, I actually surprised myself very much. Paradoxically the shorter the story, the harder it is to get it right and as a result a great majority of drabbles out there are complete and utter crap. I hope I managed to avoid this, but if not – do tell me.

And now the Author's Notes are longer than the drabble itself, so I'll shut up now and let you read in peace. Here goes.


"How did it go so fast?

You'll say as we are looking back,

and then we'll understand -

we held gold dust

in our



Kings of the wasteland

The Master speaks about Gallifrey and the Doctor almost smiles. He would smile if he didn't hurt so much, if he had strength to do anything except breathe, barely managing to hold his face above the choking dust.

Kings of the wasteland, both of them. But they used to be princes of the red hills, daring the universe to throw all of its horrifying glory at them, because at that moment they were as magnificent as the stars above.

Bitter tang of old dirt coats his tongue and he remembers. They were immortal once, before the universe called their bluff.