Expectant | Rassilon | To He Who Waits
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who_contestTitle: To He Who Waits
Rating: PG
Genre: Introspection
Word Count: 403
Characters: Rassilon
Spoilers: References "Engines of War"
Warnings: None
Rassilon is in his Tomb when the war finally reaches Gallifrey. The Possibility Engine is gone, but then the Daleks' Planet Killer is destroyed, so the balance remains equal. Equal isn't good enough. Gallifrey must stand. The Time Lords must win.
His weapon of choice has disappeared, but Rassilon has a plan. It means travelling through Gallifrey's past and changing something that some might dare not. He dares much these days.
What is left of the Possibility Engine swings at his touch. The Doctor's betrayal hadn't come as a surprise, but it leaves a bitter taste none-the-less. He cannot rely on that Renegade to help now. No, he needs someone else, and to find him he needs to break the most ancient of Gallifrey's laws.
He doesn't speak to the Council. They have resurrected him to lead them, so therefore already agreed to whatever he decides. His rule is iron-clad. A wry smile curves his lips as he fists the gauntlet. Quite literally iron-clad.
The Tomb holds several artefacts that ought to be hidden in the Archives. Things Rassilon has removed in order to use freely. He palms them to one side and at the bottom something glints in a light of a distant explosion. A White-Point Star. He picks it up, the idea in his head given weight by its clarity.
All the TARDISes are accounted for, except three: the Doctor's, the Master's, and one that Rassilon hid within the tower aeons ago. It's old and its Eye is almost faded, but it can travel back far enough.
The night is clear and the smell of spring lingers. Children stand, huddled together, faces drawn with fright. Rassilon watches and waits. They are innocents. Their minds are pure and ripe for the picking. His choice is already made. When the boy steps forward, he plants the seed, hand tight around the diamond. One mental link, one physical.
Rassilon travels back to the present day, to the war that rages, and then leaves the Tomb. He's needed by the Council to lead the fight against the Daleks, against the End of Time itself. He joins them to draw up plans, wheels within wheels, all designed to keep Gallifrey ahead. To ensure Gallifrey wins.
But if they fail... If Gallifrey falls...
Then there is another plan in place. For Rassilon knows that while all things come to he who waits, sometimes they come too late.
Rating: PG
Genre: Introspection
Word Count: 403
Characters: Rassilon
Spoilers: References "Engines of War"
Warnings: None
Rassilon is in his Tomb when the war finally reaches Gallifrey. The Possibility Engine is gone, but then the Daleks' Planet Killer is destroyed, so the balance remains equal. Equal isn't good enough. Gallifrey must stand. The Time Lords must win.
His weapon of choice has disappeared, but Rassilon has a plan. It means travelling through Gallifrey's past and changing something that some might dare not. He dares much these days.
What is left of the Possibility Engine swings at his touch. The Doctor's betrayal hadn't come as a surprise, but it leaves a bitter taste none-the-less. He cannot rely on that Renegade to help now. No, he needs someone else, and to find him he needs to break the most ancient of Gallifrey's laws.
He doesn't speak to the Council. They have resurrected him to lead them, so therefore already agreed to whatever he decides. His rule is iron-clad. A wry smile curves his lips as he fists the gauntlet. Quite literally iron-clad.
The Tomb holds several artefacts that ought to be hidden in the Archives. Things Rassilon has removed in order to use freely. He palms them to one side and at the bottom something glints in a light of a distant explosion. A White-Point Star. He picks it up, the idea in his head given weight by its clarity.
All the TARDISes are accounted for, except three: the Doctor's, the Master's, and one that Rassilon hid within the tower aeons ago. It's old and its Eye is almost faded, but it can travel back far enough.
The night is clear and the smell of spring lingers. Children stand, huddled together, faces drawn with fright. Rassilon watches and waits. They are innocents. Their minds are pure and ripe for the picking. His choice is already made. When the boy steps forward, he plants the seed, hand tight around the diamond. One mental link, one physical.
Rassilon travels back to the present day, to the war that rages, and then leaves the Tomb. He's needed by the Council to lead the fight against the Daleks, against the End of Time itself. He joins them to draw up plans, wheels within wheels, all designed to keep Gallifrey ahead. To ensure Gallifrey wins.
But if they fail... If Gallifrey falls...
Then there is another plan in place. For Rassilon knows that while all things come to he who waits, sometimes they come too late.
(no subject)
Date: 2015-08-18 03:55 pm (UTC)I've been pulling on "Engines", The End of Time and "The Dark Path" for my Master-fic-in-progress, and yeah; Rassilon is not a nice person. :/
(no subject)
Date: 2015-08-17 08:11 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2015-08-18 03:57 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2015-08-24 12:21 pm (UTC)*HUGS*
(no subject)
Date: 2015-08-24 01:52 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2015-08-25 02:50 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2015-08-30 10:04 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2015-08-25 03:24 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2015-08-30 10:04 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2015-08-29 10:35 pm (UTC)Just perfect!! I haven't yet read Engines, but this only makes me long to do that all the more!! Stellar, m'dear!! Absolutely stellar!
*HUGS*
(no subject)
Date: 2015-08-30 10:04 am (UTC)