The world froze. Ice crept through Kathani’s veins as the universe around her seemed to slow, tilt, come to a standstill as Rassilon lifted the Gauntlet and pointed it straight at her heart. And her heart slowed, dropped, came to a frozen standstill, and for an instant, she was sure she was already dead. The sound of her blood rushing through her veins was loud in her ears, as she stared across the sudden chasm that seemed to have opened in the center of the room – her on one side, Rassilon on the other. She just… stared at him. At those frigid blue eyes. Eyes that burned, in a face made of living stone.
“You are not my husband…”
Tears began to pour slowly down Kate’s cheeks at the realization as she stared, breathless with terror, at the man standing before her. She backed away, even as he seemed to regain some flicker of control over himself, and dropped his hand, placing the Gauntlet down on the floor.
“Not-… n-not my concern?” she echoed, her voice trembling. “This-… Have I been ripped away from my time… my family… my home… Torn from everything I have known, on your whim, abandoned here in my grief all these endless, merciless eons… EONS, RASSILON. As you lay twisting in your grave, I have made myself a home of your home… a life of your life… a people of your people… YOU LEFT ME! Have I endured all this while, all for you to tell me that the matters of Gallifrey are not of my concern?! For you to spurn me? Silence me? My husband would have done no such thing! My husband loved me. My Rassilon would NEVER, never- Have I lived so long, for you to forget me? For you to take your blood-soaked hands and-…”
Disbelief, grief and hurt all fought their way through Kate’s reeling mind as she continued to stare at this man… this… stranger. He had turned his Hand on her. He would have killed her. He had wanted to kill her. Not just to kill her, to annihilate her. To wipe her from existence. Rassilon. Her Rassilon. He had tried to-
Her legs did fail her then, and she collapsed, sucking in huge, heaving gasps, starting to hyper ventilate as she fell to the stone floor. Her whole body was shaking, and she was barely able to support herself on her hands and arms as she let out a desperate, agonized scream and began to sob inconsolably, insensible to the loveless, frozen world around her in the depths of her grief.
“They have killed him!“ she howled, and her voice was as pure a song of torment as ever rent the universe. “THIEVES! MURDERERS! TRAITORS! They have killed him! They have killed him! They have killed my husband! THEY HAVE KILLED MY LOVE! Rassilon, what have they done to you?!”
There had been no expecting those few seemingly simple words and how deeply they seemed to pierce into his skin. He tried his best to hide it, remaining stood away from her, his back to her, all as his shoulders visibly sunk, quickly followed by the slow and steady dip of his stubbled chin.
‘You are not my husband.’ The words played on repeat inside his head. One side of him wanting to cast them aside as though they were nothing, simply turn around, face her, and proclaim that he hadn’t a single care for what she’d said. But then there was the other side, that small glimmer of who he once was, the remnants of the man he’d been before laying in ‘eternal sleep’ for so many eons, the part of him that wanted to fall to his knees and shout to the sky about how much he cared for her, that he didn’t want to hurt her, didn’t want to disappoint her. Though it was a little too late for that, wasn’t it?
No, he said nothing. His head turning to the side only a little, listening to every word that rattled his senses, his hearts clenching tight beneath his chest. It was odd to think about, to be reminded of the past, of the last time he’d stood tall beneath the burnt orange sky above. Why weren’t those memories easier to find? Why weren’t they scattered around the surface, but buried away, out of sight, out of mind? Why was it only when she dragged them into view, that he could remember how it had felt when he’d first laid eyes upon her, or the moment he broke every rule he had written and taken her into his TARDIS and brought her to Gallifrey itself? It seemed so impossible now, so unthinkable.
But still, he didn’t utter a single word. The waves of anger still flooding through him, why? He wasn’t even sure, he was just – - angry.
It wasn’t until he noticed her to fall to the ground, crying out in despair over the loss of her husband, that Rassilon suddenly turned and strode back to her side, dropping down to his knees, large hands reaching out to gently grasp at her shoulders. “I am here…” He all but whispered, only barely managing to curb his bellowing voice, as something else snuck into his mind, his emotions. Of course, the anger was still there, maybe it always would be, but there was something else as well, something old, but something – - familiar. “Kate…” Where once he could’ve strung a sentence together, let her see how he felt, let her hear it for himself, this regeneration found it impossible. Every language in the universe, and the Lord President of Gallifrey was speechless, only able to move his right hand, lightly clasping the side of her face as he leaned in, making sure the two of them sat at eye level, those hard and bitter features, laced with a harrowing sorrow.
He wanted to tell her that he was wrong, that he hadn’t meant to point the gauntlet at her, that all he wanted to do was reach out, pull her close, and hold her in his arms, he just – - wanted to keep her safe. Though it seemed the safest place to be, was as far away from Rassilon as possible. “I have not forgotten you.”
