Epilogue: To Thine Own Self Be True

Castle Peladon shivered with the last echoes of the day's trauma; the inhabitants were led back to their rooms, announcements were made and the jubilee was postponed for at least a week due to technical problems. In between all this, the Doctor led Amy and her recovered shoes back towards the TARDIS, stopping only to return Kashak's disruptor and flashing the psychic paper at anyone else who got in his way.

Outside, it was still. The wind had died and the sky was silent. Under a clear and starry night, the mountain was peaceful.

It was only once they were safely out of the castle, and the sounds and bustle of the celebrations were fading into the darkness, that either of them stopped. Amy slumped onto a nearby comfortable-looking rock, kicked off her heels again and flexed her feet.

"I'm going to be so glad to get my trainers back on," she proclaimed. "And stop dragging along the ground everywhere."

"I'll try to remember that in future," the Doctor said.

Amy went back to examining her feet, her shoes and the crumpled hem of her dress. "So…" she muttered eventually.

He sat down next to her. "So?"

She let a breath out and gave him a look of boldness masking uncertainty. "So, if the queen was the one who rang to make sure you'd come, why all the secrecy? Why didn't she tell you she was suspicious?"

"Because she knew about me," the Doctor replied, talking to the rocks rather than Amy. "She knew the stories. All the stories. And she didn't know whether she was getting the High Physician or…"

"Or the… Oncoming Storm?"

"Exactly." The Doctor sprang to his feet. "Come along, Pond. We're almost there."

Amy nodded and followed him. Another few minutes brought them back into the comforting warm orange glow of the TARDIS. The Doctor wandered around the console, fiddling with the controls, while Amy leaned against the rail.

"Did you ever find that Aggedor thing?"

"Oh yes. We had a nice chat. Talked about old times. But if I hadn't found him I never would have realised… someone had put a psychic projector around his neck. Someone wanted a ghostly Aggedor roaming the corridors before he had a better idea. But if it hadn't been for that projector and the psychic lock on the passageway door, I never would have realised what was going on."

"Only because you were looking in completely the wrong direction from the start!"

The Doctor didn't reply. Silence fell between them as he looked at the console and she looked at her shoes. Eventually, he broke it.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Amy smiled brightly. "Of course. I'll be fine. We saved the day, didn't we?"

The Doctor smiled back. A smile that said he understood and was there to listen, but wasn't going to ask and he wasn't going to mention the tear streaks that were still clear on her face. His hypocrisy only extended so far.

Amy returned the smile, more genuine this time, and gave an exaggerated sigh. "Honestly, Doctor; a mad alien, a mad painter and now a mad king. I sure know how to pick them don't I? Maybe one day I'll meet a nice, normal guy."

She turned her back before she saw the Doctor's smile fade. She pulled off her heels one last time and strolled out of the console room towards the wardrobe.

The Doctor waited until the sound of her footsteps had faded away and then sighed. He stopped and stood in silence for a moment. And then he bent down and pulled open a storage hatch beneath the console. Inside, there was a jagged object wrapped in a handkerchief that the Doctor didn't touch and tried not to even look at, and a small, red box that he fished out.

He flipped the box open and looked inside. Amy's engagement ring glittered in the console room lights.

"When," he whispered, "shall we three meet again?"

The empty room didn't answer. The Doctor looked deep into the diamond, into the patterns of light dancing inside it. Rory Williams had never been, but the ring was still there, beautiful and impossible and real.

"In thunder, lightning, or in rain?"

He snapped the box shut and dropped it into his pocket. And when he looked up, he saw something reflected in the glass of the time rotor. A figure in bronze and scarlet.

He spun, and there was no one there. The room was empty. He was alone.

The Doctor started to smile. He turned back to the controls, twisting, pulling and spinning with a renewed purpose, letting his voice drift through the ship as he answered his own question.

"When the hurley-burley's done. When the battle's lost and won. And at the setting of the sun!"

The End