Dead

We were announced as we came down to dinner. It was just the household, the three militia men, some of Elizabeth's cousins, and us. Still rather a small group, considering.

But the royal blowhards were quickly developing a plan to make sure that the world very soon came in on our blissful little bubble.

As we entered the Great Hall, Yarborough, the head of the household, handed us each a goblet of wine, and proposed a toast. "Here's to our God, your love, and the security of our Realm! And I'm pleased to tell you, your Majesty, that in one week's time, you and your new groom will be ushered into London, and your nuptials will be officially announced to the Parliament, and to all of your adoring subjects! The world will be watching, and you shall be radiant!" With that, we all drank, he took Elizabeth's hand and bowed, and then we sat down to dinner.

Though, having heard what Yarborough had just said, I wasn't sure that my Time Lord stomach could keep the pheasant down.

The Howard cousins were still at Hatfield of course, and they had always been known for being a bold lot. At dinner, I think I was groped by at least two of the women and one of the men. But none of it bothered me. The uncomfortable part was still to come, later, in the bedroom, with my wife.

She had been quiet all evening, stealing little glances at me, rather than gazing at me adoringly as she had, all during our engagement. This was the first time we'd appeared together since we'd become brutally honest with one another, and it was taking its toll. She was still young, though not naïve, and those two qualities were warring inside of her.


I couldn't leave the party fast enough, frankly, and when we returned to our chamber, we had only been outside of it for less than three hours.

Elizabeth's hair and makeup and carefully-put-together wardrobe came quickly undone as she pulled pins and clips and threads all over the place, until she was back in her chemise. I watched her; she wasn't being coquettish or sexy or anything like it. She was feeling stifled. Her life was being run for her, and the only time when she could be herself and feel free was in this room. And this was why she'd never planned on marrying.

I was standing next to the window, and she looked at me and sighed heavily. She was feeling it now. No-one had bothered to ask what she thought about it, she was just told that she'd be riding into London, and told that she was now to welcome the world into our private union. And now, we were to recommence our private union, but I was a husband, who, according to God and the world she knew, was the boss of her. She was feeling the fight, and I could see it rise up in her. She was losing herself.

"All right?" I asked.

"Sorry?"

"Are you feeling all right?"

"Just... a bit breathless."

"Anything I can do?"

"No," she said, shaking her head sadly. "There is not, in truth. Just do not let anyone know."

"About what?" I asked, coming round, sitting on the freshly-made bed in front of her. "That you're feeling breathless?"

"About any of it. That our marriage is a sham. That I love you anyway. That I'm feeling crushed by the whole bloody regimen."

"I know it won't help, but most royal marriages are a sham," I told her. "I reckon that's one reason you'd promised yourself that you'd never have any part of it."

"True," she agreed. Then something seemed to dawn on her. Her eyes opened wide and she looked at me with alarm. "What if I'm... you know, with child? What if that's what's making me feel this way?"

I smiled. "You wouldn't be feeling the symptoms this quickly," I said.

"Are you sure?"

"Quite sure. Trust me, I'm the Doctor," I whispered, standing to kiss her cheek. "And soon... part of the strain will be gone, and you'll breathe again."

"What do you mean?"

I sighed. "Elizabeth, you were very honest with me last night, and now I feel I owe you the same courtesy."

"All right." She looked scared and confused.

"What I'm going to tell you is going to sound outrageous, the stuff of faerie tales and... nonsense. But I need you to trust me, and just know that you won't have to deal with any of it. I will not lie to you – you have my word. All right?"

"All right," she repeated.

"I'm not from here. I don't belong here."

"I already know that."

"But there's more. I'm not only not from this place, I'm not from this time."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm a time-traveller," I confessed. "I'm from... oh, another world. I am someone without a home, without an era. I have been into the past and into the future, sideways in time, and back again. I have knowledge of everything that's ever been, and access to everything that ever will be."

"You said you would not lie to me," she said meekly.

"And I will not. Am not. This is the truth, I swear it. I know what your world tells you is true, but you are a woman of faith and character. Can't you believe that there are things in the universe that you just don't understand?"

"I can."

"Then you're cleverer than anyone has ever given you credit for. My friends, your prisoners, they are from a time that is thousands of years in your future, and all they want is to go home. They are not a threat to you – Catholics and Henry Fitzroy and William the Conqueror, they are all but lost to history in their time. They have virtually no idea who you are."

"And you?"

"I'm different," I said, taking her hands. "I have been all over in time, and I know with perfect clarity who you are. You are Queen Elizabeth the first, Good Queen Bess, the Virgin Queen, the long-reigning last monarch of the Tudor Dynasty in England."

"The last?"

"Yes," I told her. I took her cheeks between my palms. "Elizabeth, we cannot go into London and announce our marriage. We cannot. I know how your life plays out, and I'm not in it. You are known to history as the Virgin Queen because you were never supposed to marry. You are the last Tudor because unmarried means no heir. If the Parliament and the world find out about us, history is damaged and..." I let go of her.

"And what?"

"And I have failed as a time traveller. Again. It's too much risk. Not to London, my Queen. Not with me."

"Then why did you marry me?"

I felt like telling her that she hadn't given me a choice, and that I hadn't wanted to be thrown into the stable with no hope of escape, but I reckoned that sooner or later, she'd work that out for herself. "Caught up in the moment," I said. "In all of the moments."

Her eyes narrowed, and she turned her head. "I knew there was something different in you."

I smiled. "You did know, didn't you?"

"Not that you travel in time," she said quietly. "But I knew somehow that this here and now... it was not for you. Was not enough. You're the Doctor. You're of a different ilk, my love."

"You believe me."

"I do, but it's nonsense. I do not know why I believe."

"Because you're of a different ilk as well," I told her. "And it's why you're going to be a great ruler."

"So you're leaving me." Her voice was flat and expressionless, and she wasn't looking at me.

"If you'll release my friends to me, yes."

"And if I will not?"

"Then I'll break them out. I have to, and you know it. There's no room for me in your life."

"What about for me, in your life?"

I sighed. Hadn't seen that coming. Not sure why. She was an intelligent and dynamic woman who believed in life beyond what was right in front of her, why wouldn't she want to come along and see it all? If she'd been almost anyone else in the universe, I might have said yes. But at this point, the stupidity of my decision to invite Reinette into the TARDIS was coming back to me, and all of those considerations applied here, and even more.

"No, I'm sorry," I said. "My life is full and dangerous, and anyway, you have to stay here and run this country. You've got to keep the Stuarts in line, push forward with the Church of England, endorse the arts... you've got a lot to do. And you've got to do it on your own."

"You know this?"

"I do. I know it's difficult to believe, but it's what history tells us, and what your future holds."

"I'm to be alone?"

I nodded. "I'm sorry. But you'll be spectacular."

She turned away from me, and her body pulled up tight. "You said 'til death do us part. In front of God, and everyone."

"I know."

"God will forgive us, but everyone else will not. I will be disgraced."

"I know."

"Til death do us part. So you'll have to die."

"I know."

She moved toward the giant Revelations door, opened it a smidge and called for Brutus.


We spent one more night together, ostensibly so as not to arouse suspicion. But we both knew the truth. We were great together, at least in that one very exciting way, and neither one of us wanted me sleeping in a cold room across the hall just so that we could have a chilly, sleepless night apart.

Before the sun came up, I rose. I put on my suit and trainers, then crawled across the bed and planted a kiss on Elizabeth's forehead. Her eyes opened slowly.

"Goodbye," I whispered.

She sighed hard, and her lips pursed. Her eyes filled with tears, and she said, "Goodbye."

I stroked her hair for a few moments, and her eyes slipped closed again. As an afterthought, I leaned down, and very softly in her ear, I said, "You'll see me again."

She didn't respond, except with a deep breath of sleep, and I slipped out of the room. Brutus met me outside and escorted me out into the forest. The house had been surprisingly devoid of guards; I assumed that had been part of the ruse. We shook hands, and I went to my TARDIS to bring her alive, and to wait.


I communed with my ship, inspected her gears, the damaged Time Rotor which had brought us here. I was satisfied that all was ready there. I inspected the back hallways and rooms, verified that full power had been restored to all parts of the vessel. I was aware that I would be attempting to fly her back into a battle just off Seulia Major, at a particular moment, just after I'd left. I still had a life to save, and I wanted to be precise. I did not want the TARDIS to be "off" in anyway. If I was going to screw this up, it was going to be because of me.

Three hours passed before Katt, Rolor and Cecon darkened the doorway.

"Thank goodness!" I exclaimed. "I was beginning to think they'd forgotten you!"

"No, they definitely did not," Fekom Katt said.

"They tried to have us stay for the funeral," Cecon said. "It's a good thing Fitzwilliam brought us up to speed, or we might have been right worried, Doctor. Why didn't you come back last night, as you said you would? We thought, at the very least, we'd been abandoned in the plan."

"Sorry about that," I said. "We thought it would be better if you lot thought I was dead too. More convincing – we reckoned the whole house would be looking to you, after the Queen, that is. When did he tell you I was still among the living?"

"About, oh, five minutes ago," Rolor said. "Thanks, mate."

"The Queen came down for breakfast, weeping, and Fitzwilliam was escorting her," Cecon explained. "Yarborough explained that the Queen's beloved groom had perished overnight."

"They asked us to help plan the funeral," Katt said. "We weren't sure what to say. We don't really know you that well..."

"Yeah, and frankly," confessed Rolor. "I was more concerned with the fact that I was stuck here, in this forsaken era, where they don't even have proper hygiene..."

"Anyway," Katt continued, giving Rolor what must have been the thousandth dirty look in the past two weeks. "Your funeral is Sunday."

"And when are they burying me?" I couldn't resist asking.

"Apparently, you died of something unknown, and your body was bloated and your tongue blackened, so it is currently on a pyre someplace, being burned for fear of plague. Fitzwilliam removed you from the household before dawn, so as not to upset anyone."

"Well, that part is true," I said. "Are they also quarantining the Queen?"

"Of course not," Katt shrugged, the first whimsical bit of sarcasm I'd seen from him.

"Marvellous. Makes perfect sense," I said.

"Yep," said Katt. "Fitzwilliam brought us outside and explained along the way that you and she had arranged for a fake death. We were quite relieved."

"Thanks, I appreciate that. Are you boys ready to roll?"

"My, are we," Cecon said, clapping his hands.

"Er, why don't you three go back and change into your original clothes," I suggested. "Can't fly into battle dressed like that – you'll burst into flames or get your golden threads caught upon a fibreglass nail in the corridors or something."

Cecon and Rolor disappeared down the corridor, and Katt remained. "Thanks for not leaving us, Doctor."

"No problem, sir," I told him. "Wouldn't be my style."

"It's not your style to leave anyone behind," he said.

I looked down. "No, it's not."

"And yet you must."

"Yep."

"We all have to make choices, I suppose."

"Yeah."

"I see your choice is made," he said. "Who gets left, I mean."

"I can't stay here," I told him defensively. "I can't bring her along – she's too important to history."

"I understand. All I'm saying is... well, you're going to be taking us back to the battle at Seulia Major where we left off. And I know it's not your style to leave anyone behind, but you're already dead here, and that's enough. When we arrive there, don't die again trying to save someone who's lost."

I looked at him, searching for hardness, military efficiency which was often something that aggravated me. But I found none. He was being a friend, telling me not to get my hopes up, and not to risk my life inside the complex if I already knew that Allison was dead.

"I hear you," I said. "But I'm still going back in."

"I know, and we'll do everything we can to help. Just be careful."

"Thanks. I will."

He followed his comrades and disappeared down the hall, and I fired up the console for departure. The gears ground, and I smiled widely, not having heard the beautiful, musical scraping sound in far too long. But then, a red flashing light caught my attention. It was a small light, most likely a minor malfunction, and if I'd been travelling at my leisure with a companion or alone, I'd have ignored it until I was in a better position to repair it. But as I'd said, today, I wanted to be precise. Nothing could go wrong. I knew that Katt was right about not getting my hopes up, and I was still just a bit bruised from leaving Elizabeth's side under those circumstances, but I still really, really wanted to save Allison. I still really wanted her with me. I missed her terribly anytime I thought about her, and with departure in sight, I'd thought about her a lot.

The light indicated that something external was wrong. I exited the TARDIS, but could find nothing amiss. Still blue, still wooden, still eight feet tall. The lights were on, the hinges worked fine – what was the problem?

I found my answer in the next ten seconds. The perception filter was on the blink. We were seen.

"Doctor!" I heard as I inspected the TARDIS' outsides. A shocked voice coming from far away. I looked behind me, startled, as what looked like a hunting party approached on horseback.

I cursed harshly, and willed the militia men to stay inside. I didn't need them out, causing further complication.

The voice had been that of Yarborough, and in tow, he had four or five ladies-in-waiting, as many household guards, and six or seven Howard cousins. And as the group stopped near me, the crowd parted and Elizabeth came forward. My hearts sank. She looked at me with narrowed, mean eyes. My own eyes tried to convey supplication, but it was too late. I'd been caught escaping, and now everyone knew that I'd left her.

"What was that sound?" Yarborough cried out at me. "I demand to know! And what in the name of God is that thing?"

"It matters not, Yarborough," the Queen shot at him. "What matters is the cruel deception with which I am now faced."

"Indeed, ma'am. Apologies," he said.

She climbed down off her horse and approached me. She got very close to me and whispered, "How could you do this to me? You are meant to be dead!"

"I know!"

"We covered every detail last night, what we would say, when you would leave, what we would tell your friends..."

"I'm sorry," I whispered back. "Something went wrong!"

"How could you get caught? You are too clever for this! Are you trying to hurt me?"

"Of course not! Why didn't you stop your hunting party following the noise?"

"Do not put the blame on me, Doctor. You swore!"

"I know!"

"Everyone can see you," she said. "Everyone knows!"

"I can see that! I'm sorry, Elizabeth!"

"What would you have me do now, Doctor? What?" Her voice was high and desperate, but quiet.

"Oh for God's sake, Elizabeth," I hissed. I looked at her squarely, without tenderness, without remorse. "You're the Queen. Act like it."

Her jaw clenched, and I could see anger rising. She stepped back from me and turned to her party. "No word of this incident shall ever pass your lips. No mention of this man, the Doctor, shall ever breach the grounds of Hatfield House, under penalty of death. Is that understood?"

The ladies, guards, and cousins all nodded and answered variously, "Yes, Your Majesty, yes ma'am."

She turned to me. "As for you, you have disgraced me before my own. You said that I shall see you again. Well, then, when that day comes, sir, you and I are sworn enemies. If our paths should cross, then I suggest that you run heartily. Because, Doctor, at this moment, I should like to kill you myself, but my lingering affection for you, in spite of myself, will not allow me. However, I cannot make the same assertion for a future date when I am older and wiser. So go. Leave my Realm, and hope, for your own safety, that you were wrong, and that I shall not see you again."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

She bit her lip. Then she gathered herself and hurled back, "Go!"

So I went.

The militia men were standing in the console room when I got back inside, looking ready for battle, eight thousand years from now.

"I'm sorry, Doctor," Katt said.

"It's all right," I said. "That just made it easier."

I flipped the switch, once again, which threw us into motion, and soon the TARDIS was tumbling head-over-heels, and I knew we were in battle again.

But we'd missed. Five minutes had passed since we left. I'd been distracted and upset and I'd flipped the switch too quickly...

Five vital minutes.