Chapter 32: To the Victors Go the Spoils
In the following weeks, the Doctor and Clara implemented their Anti-Hostile Displacement Plan. Clara created a computer virus to instantly spam all enemy ships with images of the Doctor upon approach to the planet. A few Dalek ships had tried, but were flung into the future by the Doctor, the last Weeping Angel. Every displacement only made him stronger. In one day, the Time War was over. The Time Lords had won.
Twin suns shone high in a burnt orange sky. Pink clouds dotted the atmosphere, swirling around the newly-repaired glass dome of the Citadel. For once, the weather was fair. It was the perfect day for an inauguration.
Gallifreyan citizens from far and wide traveled to the Citadel to witness history. It was their first inauguration in thousands of years. Many had never even witnessed one. Rassilon had held the crown for so long.
The Doctor stood proudly on an outdoor ornate stage, Clara Oswald by his side. They were dressed in High Gallifreyan attire, long scarlet robes with golden trim. Large fans made of pure gold rose onto and over their shoulders. They were engraved with Gallifreyan psalms, the beautiful language swirling in circles over the metal. The Doctor's great wings were no longer red and black, but a pristine white. The curse had been lifted. He was no longer marked. He too had been granted regenerations, and he practically glowed with energy.
Clara peered into the crowd. People and creatures of all races and creeds had come from far and wide. Gallifrey was no longer a planet of war, no longer closed off to the rest of the universe. Martha Jones and Malonyo Scaye waved to her from the first row. The rest of their crew spread out behind them, including some new faces. They beamed with pride. They'd had a part in this too.
Chancellor Heredon bowed before them, the rest of the High Council behind him doing the same. The crowd quieted down and everyone looked to the stage. Heredon approached the Doctor, holding out a leather-bound book that looked as ancient as time itself. "Lord President, Doctor, do you solemnly swear to uphold the code of the Time Lords, so help you God?"
The Doctor raised his right hand and put his left over the book. He leaned towards the microphone, speaking clearly so all could hear. "I swear."
"Do you swear to protect your people and their beliefs until the end of your days?"
He nodded, looking out to his people. He faced them, making eye contact with the masses. "I swear."
The Chancellor handed the book back to another councilmember. It was replaced with a small wooden box ordained with Gallifreyan inscriptions. The words seemed to glow in the twin sunlight, scrawled in gold and bronze. "Then I anoint you, Doctor," he opened the box, revealing a hefty golden ring sporting a sizable green jewel. It caught the sunlight and flashed brilliantly. The heart of a dark star from the Medusa Cascade. The Doctor held out his right hand and the Chancellor slipped it over his ring finger. He grasped his hand and raised it into the air. "As Lord President of Gallifrey, ruler of the Time Lords!"
The people erupted in cheers. Hats and baubles flung into the air. Martha clapped and pumped her fist. Malonyo put his fingers to his mouth and whistled. "Speech!" he cried. His crew, and soon the whole crowd joined in the chant. "Speech! Speech! Speech!"
The Doctor felt himself blush. He had never been more flattered. He turned to Clara. She beamed at him, joy dancing in her eyes. He extended a hand to her, which she bashfully accepted. He pulled her to the front next to him. The crowd roared. The sound of it was almost painful.
He squeezed her hand. They did it. They had somehow bumbled their way into bringing back Gallifrey and ending the Time War. Who knew a simple squabble on Alureygo IX would lead to this?
The Doctor cleared his throat. The crowd fell silent, eagerly awaiting his words. He felt a moment of stage fright shake his bones, but Clara tightened her grasp on his hand and he felt it all fade away. With Clara by his side, nothing was scary anymore.
"Citizens of Gallifrey, allies, and friends," he began. "I am nothing without you all. I am just a silly old idiot in a box, and I would've gotten nowhere without your support. I thank you." He bowed to the masses and waited for the cheering to die down. "Most of all," he looked to Clara, "I thank Miss Clara Oswald for her undying love and sacrifice." A smile crept across his face. "None of this would have been possible without her."
He pulled something out of the folds of his robe. It was a small wooden box much like the one Heredon had presented to him. He squeezed Clara's hand tighter and made eye contact with her. Happiness danced in their eyes, a little confusion mixed in with hers. What was he up to?
He dropped to one knee and opened the box. Inside lay a spectacular golden ring inscribed with Gallifreyan love songs. A large white gem gleamed in the middle, the infinitely-dense diamond heart of a collapsed nebula. He had carefully mined it himself with the help of the Tardis. It was light as a feather, its true weight tucked away in another dimension. "Clara Oswin Oswald, my Impossible Girl," he spoke softly, his shoulders trembling. "Will you rule by my side as Lady President of Gallifrey? Will you marry me?"
Clara clasped her hands over her mouth in shock. Tears welled up in her eyes. Was she in a dream? The world faded away. Her hearts rapped in her chest like drums. Get it together, Clara. She inhaled deeply, grounding herself. "Yes," she gasped, nodding. Her face broke out into a huge smile. "Yes."
He sighed, letting out the breath he had been holding in. She said yes. He felt a weight lift off his shoulders. It would have really been embarrassing if she had said no at this point. Delicately, he took her left hand with both of his and slipped the ring onto her finger. He kissed the back of the tiny hand before rising to his feet.
No longer shocked, Clara threw her arms around him, her feet lifting off of the ground. He almost stumbled backwards with the force of it. "Yes, you daft old man," she giggled. "Yes, I will marry you." With that, she cupped the back of his head and caught his lips in a fervent kiss. The crowd hooted and hollered, but they did not care. The whole planet may be watching, but to them, it was just the two of them and nobody else in the world.
Chancellor Heredon appeared from behind Clara with the sacred book. He held up his right hand, instructing her to do the same. "Clara Oswald, Time Lady of Gallifrey, do you solemnly swear to uphold the code of the Time Lords, so help you God?"
She nodded, placing her bejeweled left hand on the book like she had seen the Doctor do before. "I do."
"Do you swear to protect your people and their beliefs until the end of your days?"
She nodded again, grinning from ear to ear. "Yes, always."
Old Heredon grinned, producing a gem-studded bracelet from seemingly nowhere. She held out her right hand. He clasped it to her wrist and gazed back at her with pride in his eyes. "Then I anoint you, Clara Oswald, as Lady President of Gallifrey!"
The crowd burst into cheer again. Hats flew into the air, birds sang above, even the leaves in the silver trees seemed to rustle their approval.
Clara spun around to the Doctor, her scarlet robe flourishing behind her. She reached out a hand. He took it, rubbing his thumb over the skin tenderly. An idiot in a box and a city girl from Blackpool had just become rulers of a whole civilization. A whole planet. There they stood united on stage, their lives beginning anew. Martha and Malonyo beamed at them from the first row. Clara made eye contact and waved her hand at them, inviting them up on stage. The human and the Silurian did not need to be told twice. They ran up the stairs and hugged both of them as tightly as they could.
Martha squeezed Clara's shoulders. Tears threatened her eyes. "I'm so proud of you," she whispered. She took her hand and inspected the new ring. Clara felt her cheeks warm with a full-body blush. Martha hummed, satisfied. "You take good care of him, okay?"
Clara broke the hug, making teary eye contact with the old physician. "I will."
Martha nodded, stroking her shoulder reassuringly. "I know you will."
Martha turned to the Doctor. Malonyo relinquished his hold on him and went to Clara. With his full attention on her, Martha stared the Doctor hard in the eyes. She meant business. "You treat her well, you got that?" She pointed at him threateningly. "Or I'll come up here and kick your arse."
The Doctor chuckled, gathering Martha into his arms. "Is that a promise?"
"Yeah. More than any," she said into his shoulder. With the tone of her voice, he knew she was dead serious. "I mean it."
They separated, looking at each other knowingly. The four addressed the High Council, bowed, and took their leave. They were escorted off the stage by a line of guards. Everybody wanted to reach out to them, to touch their robes. The people were so excited for their new leaders that the cheering had never stopped. It was deafening.
With one last wave to the crowd, they disappeared into a luxurious shuttle. The bronze vehicle fired up, pulsing blue light from its thrusters. It took off with a hiss, zooming back to the Citadel in a cloud of dust. There was no time to waste. They had so much to do.
After all, they had a wedding to plan.