The Lay of Sir Savien Trailard

by el'the wilhem

Issue #2. Throughout The Kingkiller Chronicle, Kvothe is constantly trying to solve the mystery of Denna. Where she is, what she does and most importantly, who her patron is. The Lay of Sir Savien Trailard gives the Doctor a glimpse into Denna's life, while the Doctor encourages Denna's passion for music.

The Lay of Sir Savien Trailard:

It had been several span since the Doctor had his adventure in Anilin. He had decided to stay in the area and explore the known world. So he traveled south from Anilin to inspect the so called "University" he had heard so much about. When he got there, after poking around a bit, the Doctor had not been able to find out much about it. The University having tighter secrets than the Tower of London put the Doctor in more of a depressed state than he usually was in – which was not helped by his recent encounter with the Weeping Angels, and his reluctant nature of getting used to being left handed. But then, there was her. Denna.

After they had successfully saved Anilin from the Weeping Angels, the Doctor and Denna went their separate ways. He had just been getting used to his new self, let alone a travel buddy, so he had to lie to Denna. He dropped her off back at her inn, the Eastborn Inn, to clean up and get some rest and told her he'd be back after he had checked back on the Angels. However, he never returned. Instead, the Doctor took to exploring this world on his own. If there were Weeping Angels going unseen in Anilin, who knew what other types of evil patrolled the land.

On this night, the Doctor found himself at a tavern on the outskirts of the University. It seemed like an average tavern to him, but to his surprise he was charged a 'jot' of this world's currency before entering. The filled the room from wall to wall and the Doctor decided to order cinnamon mead from the jovial bartender. The bartend seemed to know most of the guests well as he made his rounds to each table.

With drink in hand, the Doctor weaved his wave throughout the tavern, taking note of his surroundings. He found a small table in the corner of the second landing, which he decided would be best for him to snoop in privacy.

So the Doctor found a snug little corner where he could enjoy his third cup of cinnamon mead. The music had been tolerable, the drinks enjoyable, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The music had gotten better as the night had gone on, or maybe it was the mead. The crowd had now gone quiet as a lute player had taken the stage. To the Doctor's ear's it hadn't sounded like anything special, though from his little corner you could barely hear much. The song was actually quite boring to him as there were no lyrics, simply the lute and its music.

The crowd gave its usual cheer after the song was done and the Doctor even found it in himself to give some applause. As the next song began, the crowd buzzed with intrigue. Throughout the room the Doctor heard murmurs rolling through the audience. It was along the lines of 'The Lay of Sir Steven Trailtard." Whatever the song title truly was, it surely sounded naughty to the Doctor, and because of that it certainly peeked his interest.

The song certainly was a crowd pleaser, but the rumble from the tavern did not die down. Instead, as the song progressed, more and more people began whispering about the young singer's Savien needing an Aloine. From what the Doctor could gather, this song was a ballad of the romance between this Savien and his wife, Aloine.

The whispers grew with low voices saying, "Here comes the part, but there's no one else on stage," and "I think he's hoping someone from the crowd will sing!"

As the song continued, something odd occurred; the young musician kept singing and then stopping after a line as if hoping somebody would sing in return. However, no one was responding. This clearly affected the musician as he started to stutter and miss a note every now and then. The song fell off the tracks when one of the musician's strings snapped. The poor lad never recovered and was booed off the stage.

The Doctor help but get up and take a look at the musician who was now being booed off the stage. He stumbled through the clustered tables to reach the balcony and as he leaned over, with his sandy mop falling in front of his eyes he caught a glimpse of a young, scrawny, fire red-haired fellow walking off the stage. Then it hit the Doctor: a young, red-haired lad living near the University. This must be the Kavoot who Denna was smitten with!

And with that, the Doctor ran off to the back room.

Denna had made herself quite comfortable in Anilin. She had been traveling so much recently that when she actually had time to settle down in one town, she was surprised at how much she enjoyed it. She was relaxing in her petite cozy room on the top floor of the Eastborn Inn when am unsettling familiar sound rang distantly in her ears. Wahhooosh, wahhoosh, wahhooosh.

Though her meeting with the Doctor had not been too long ago, she had become so furious that he never returned that she had convinced herself that he in fact did not exist. "It was simply a dream," she would tell herself. "It's just a tale I could tell a crowd while enjoying a drink." However, whenever she passed through Anlin Square or the Greystones just east of the square, she was reminded that it was no tale or dream but reality.

Denna lazily picked herself up off her soft cot to take a look out of her room's lone window. It was already night time so it was fairly dark already and there was no large blue box in sight. As she sauntered back to her cot she heard somebody raucously stomping up the stairs.

The door to Denna's room burst open and a scraggily face appeared. "Your Savien needs his Aloine!" cried the Doctor as he grabbed Denna and made their way downstairs to his Tardis waiting patiently outside the inn.

"How dare you barge in and ABDUCT me! I DO NOT associate myself with liars and con artists, and…" At this point the Doctor began to tune out Denna. This wasn't the first time he had been berated for one reason or another. But each time it was the same tune.

"Did you not hear me?! You're Savien needs you! Kavoot…"

"Kvothe?"

"Same thing. He was playing the most intriguing song about this Savien, but he didn't have a Aloine there to sing for him! He got booed out of the tavern!"

To Denna's surprise the Doctor appeared more concerned about Kvothe being made a fool of then he was when they took on the Weeping Angels just a few span ago. The Doctor began to then pull some levers and twist some gears and they were off with a jolt. Wahhoosh, wahhooosh, wahhooosh and then silence.

You could hear the build of music and some chatter here and there. "Where are we?" Denna asked curiously.

"A back closet on the upper level of the fine establishment called The Eolian. Now I brought us back just as the song should have begun. Whatever you do don't just blurt out 'I CAME IN A FLYING BLUE BOX WITH SOME STRANGE MAN.'" Denna couldn't help but chuckle, but the Doctor continued on. "I don't trust this University yet and therefore I don't trust Kvothe yet.

"You brought us back just before the song should have begun? But…" Denna was at a loss for words. She couldn't fully comprehend the concept of time travelling and it being a possibility at that moment. All she was able to mutter out was "How?"

"Oh just a minute detail I forgot to mention. I'll explain more later," the Doctor insisted again. "Now go save your Savien and if you want, I'll be back later tonight." The Doctor then opened the door to the Tardis and before Denna could make it out the door she was stopped. "Denna…I'm sorry I lied." And so Denna ran out the Tardis, through the back rooms of The Eolion to save her Savien.

Later that night, Denna made her way out of The Eolian, arm and arm with a young gentleman. As they reached the end of the tavern, Denna gave him a kiss on his cheek, said her good-byes and searched for the Doctor.

"Looks like everything worked out for the best," came the Doctor's voice from behind. He was leaning against a street post.

"Oh…yes, Sovoy. He was sitting alone at one of the tables and was kind enough to allow me to join him. He seemed to know Kvothe, so I figured why not spend the night with him? It would give me a reason as to why I was in the Tavern," Denna seemed to ponder a thought in her head. "He certainly wasn't my type though."

"Oh you clever girl, you; now, what of the song?!" asked the Doctor on the edge of his hypothetical seat. "You're leaving out all the juicy details!"

"Yes, yes. The song was marvelous. I got settled in just in time to join in. I don't really think I sounded that good, but it turned out that song won him his pipes! Now he can play at The Eolian whenever he liked. But I'm not providing you with any more details until you explain yourself, just as you promised you would in Anilin!"

"I suppose what's fair is fair. How's that saying go? I scratch my back and you scratch yours?"

Denna rolled her eyes. "Close enough."

"Let's head to the Tardis before I begin." The Doctor and Denna headed a few meters to the Tardis and once inside, the Doctor began. "In an attempt not to bore such a fair maiden, I will keep it short and sweet. Since you are such a clever girl, you may have already guessed that I am not of this world. I am what you call a Time-Lord from the planet Gallifrey and with the help of my Tardis I have been travelling through time and space for a few thousand years now."

Awestruck at the fact that there were indeed other worlds, other races out there, Denna was left at a loss for words. She was able to muster up one simple statement: "I knew you were strange."

The Doctor laughed. "Yes, I suppose I am, aren't I?"

"So you can take me to these far off worlds at any point in time with your Tardis?" Denna asked, beginning to get excited.

"For the most part, yes. And I have a special trip planned for you!" The Doctor began to work the controls to the Tardis. Pressing buttons here, spinning wheels there. It all seemed quite peculiar, but who was Denna to question a Time-Lord!

"I can't imagine where! I don't know anywhere else besides the known world here."

"Since you're such a music aficionado, why not introduce you to one of the most talented music composers ever known?" With one last contraption fiddled with, the Tardis was off!

"But where are we going?!" cried Denna over the rumbling of the Tardis.

"Vienna, 1796…the planet, Earth," said the Doctor precisely.

The Doctor and Denna stepped out of the Tardis and into 1796 Heiligenstadt, a small suburb of Vienna. They strolled the old-world town, slowly approaching a charming two story white building sandwiched in between two similar buildings. There were three windows on the top floor, blinds drawn shut, and two windows surrounding a set of great wooden doors. It was topped with a rustic panel roof.

The Doctor approached the pair of wooden doors and gave three great knocks. A homely looking woman opened the door. "Yes?" she said flatly.

The Doctor bowed. "Good day my fair lady," said the Doctor. Not quite sure what the correct introduction should be as he reached out for a hand shake as well, but the hostess stood as still as stone. "Very well, I was looking for Ludwig please."

Not amused, the delightful hostess now asked, "And you are?"

"I'm the Doctor…" but before he could go any further something was muttered in the background by, who he believed was his kind host, but he couldn't say for sure because the door was quickly closed in his face.

The door opened again, but this time there stood a fairly young chap whose wild hair rivaled that of the Doctor's. He was dressed as any other gentleman would have been in the 18th century: a high collared button shirt with a cravat and vest, breeches and a great long coat.

"You are certainly welcomed Doctor, I have been having this constant ringing in my ears for the past few weeks and it hasn't gone away yet," explained Ludwig.

"Well no problem at all Ludwig. May I introduce you to my assistant, Ms. D," Denna curtsied, "Shall we head inside and take a look at your ears, Mr. Beethoven?" You see, this name may have raised plenty of people's eyebrows, I mean, its Beethoven! Even the Doctor was excited. But for Denna, a girl who spent all of her years within the Four Corners of Civilization, she did not even bat an eye.

"You see Doctor, I'm in the middle of composing this fantastic sonata and ever since my ears started to ring I have been unable to concentrate. I've been trying to work it into a four hand piece. It's based in 'D Major' but all I hear is this buzzing!"

This peaked Denna's interest. "Oh, you write your own songs Mr. Beethoven? Would you mind playing something for us?" asked Denna.

"Once I am all clear-headed it will be a pleasure Ms. D, and might I say Ms. D., you are quite young to be a nurse and assistant to such a well-known doctor."

Denna's fair complexion turned to rosy-red. "Why thank sir, I just like to think that I was in the right place at the right time. Your pretty young yourself, composing music at any age is rather impressive."

The Doctor felt this strange feeling as Denna flapped her eyelashes at Ludwig. One might say it was jealously, while another might say it was sheer protectiveness. "That's enough small talk. Let's get to Mr. Beethoven's health needs," said the Doctor, interrupting Denna.

"You must understand, Doctor, music is my passion, my life, and whatever is happening to me leaves me with an unbeknownst future, which is why I need you, Doctor. Music is a higher revelation than all wisdom and philosophy. Music should strike fire from the heart of man and bring tears from the eyes of woman and without I'm afraid of what I'd become," Beethoven strongly said to the Doctor. As Beethoven went through his soliloquy, the Doctor could see Denna melting to Ludwig's words. The Doctor was again going to attempt to cut to the chase, but Ludwig beat him to the point. "You see Doctor, you are my only hope."

"I'm a regular Obi-Wan," the Doctor said quickly

"Obi-what?"

"Oh, nothing, just a little saying... Shall we get you comfortable and take a look inside that wonderful noggin of yours?"

"Certainly." Beethoven led the Doctor and Denna down a narrow hall that was adorned with water-color paintings. Beethoven dragged his hand along the wood trimming at the center of the wall, continuously tapping his hand until they reached a doorway on their left, which undoubtedly would lead to Ludwig's sleeping chambers. Over his shoulder, Ludwig took a shot at some more small talk, "You both speak German particularly well, where are you from?"

Denna shot a look at the Doctor as though she knew something clever was afoot but shouldn't say anything. The Doctor slyly responded, "We are just two well-traveled folk. Once you've been around the block once or twice you pick up on a few things."

"Like languages?" Ludwig asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Precisely."

"So Ludwig, did you always live in Vienna?" Denna curiously asked.

"Actually no, I moved to Vienna about six years ago. At first I had hoped to study under Wolfgang Mozart, but a few years before I moved to Vienna, I met a man by the name of Joseph Haydn. Two years later, Joseph asked if I'd like to come to Vienna to study under him and that's how I got here."

"Do you still live with Mr. Haydn?" the Doctor curiously asked.

"No. Just two short years after I had moved to Vienna, Mr. Haydn left for London and I decided to stay in the place I now call home. At first, when Joseph left, I did not immediately set out to establish myself as a composer, but rather I devoted myself to study and performance under Mr. Haydn's direction. Now it has gotten to a point where the best I could do is study and hope I work out pieces as best I could."

The room had quickly become solemn as Beethoven was sitting at the edge of his four-post bed with his head in his hands. All you could see poking through his fingers was his wild mane. The four-post wooden bed leaned against the wall adjacent from a window out to the street. You wouldn't think this room belonged to a musical genius. A large wardrobe hid in the corner of the room while papers and books scattered across the top of a desk that was now barely visible due to the mess that it welcomed.

The Doctor now took off his blue cardigan and rolled up the sleeves on his rundown plaid shirt and whipped out his sonic screwdriver. Ludwig raised his head from his hands as the Doctor prepared himself. The Doctor presented himself in front of Ludwig on his four-posted bed. Beethoven stood up besides the Doctor and straightened himself up.

The Doctor put on his serious face. "Alright sir, now turn your head and cough."

Ludwig proceeded to do so which prompted the Doctor to giggled. "What was that for?" Ludwig inquired.

The Doctor giggled some more. "I always wanted to do that," prompting Denna to throw a stern look in the Doctor's direction. The Doctor in turn directed one of the saddest puppy-dog faces one has ever seen towards Denna, which had absolutely no effect on her.

"Let's have a look now," the Doctor proceeded, surveying both of Beethoven's ears first from a distance, then from close-up. "Nothing out of the ordinary from what I can see so far. Just your typical ear wax and hair."

Now curious, the Doctor forced open Ludwig's mouth and took a look inside, then went on to Beethoven's eyes, holding each of his eyelids open for several seconds each, and finally pushed his head backwards and looked straight down his nasal cavity. The whole time the Doctor issued a "hmmm" here and an "interesting" there. The Doctor stood still for a moment, then suddenly ravaged through Beethoven's hair like a chimpanzee searching for bugs. He continued on by stretching out the poor composer's face in all different weird angles. More words spilled out of the Doctor's mouth, mostly mutters of "no, no, no."

With his sonic screwdriver ready to go in his left hand, a blue light shined on Beethoven's face like a spotlight, moving from eye to eye, then down past his nose to his mouth. The constant sound of the Doctor's screwdriver shrieked as the blue light moved on to his left ear first and then his right. The Doctor reached for his cardigan on the bed and pulled out a looking glass that resembled one of a jeweler. The Doctor clumsily clipped the glass onto one of his lenses and peered into Ludwig's ear.

"Ehmmm," the Doctor eyed Denna, "Ms. D., your assistance please."

"Oh, sorry Doctor," Denna said apologetically as she half forgot her role today.

"Can you grab equipment from the inside of my cardigan?"

Denna fumbled through the Doctor's cardigan, a bit confused as to how or where any real doctor equipment would fit in his cardigan, but to her surprise, she was pulling out a reflex hammer, thermometer and stethoscope.

The Doctor first took the small rubber hammer and took a whack at Ludwig's knee which came flying out and almost taking out Denna. Next he took the thermometer and placed it in his own mouth while he took the stethoscope, placing it on Beethoven's forehead. From the look on the Doctor's face it looked as though thousands of thoughts were going through his head at once, and for someone who has been around for so many years, one can't imagine what kind of thoughts they could be.

"Doctor, please, say something!" Ludwig pleaded.

In response, rather than saying anything, the quickly pulled out a tuning key and slapped it right next to one of Beethoven's ear. From where Denna stood she didn't hear a thing, but if you were close enough you'd be able to tell the key rung in the key of G major.

"Ahhhhhhhh!" Ludwig screeched, holding his ears shut. A look of absolute nausea came to Beethoven's face. "Are you mad?! Or just trying to kill me!?"

"I'm not, but somebody might be…" Utter shock hit the faces of Denna and Beethoven at the same time as a sly look came across the Doctor's face. "Dah-dah-duummmmm!" said the Doctor theatrically, pantomiming himself epically playing the piano. "What? I thought it would add a little something extra to the news."

"Doctor this is no time to joke around! You just said somebody might be trying to kill Mr. Beethoven!" Denna pleaded.

"It is quite disturbing that someone might be out for me…but, that was a pretty interesting cadence you did there," Ludwig said light-heartedly. "I might have to steal that from you one day."

"Yes, yes, that is all well and good, but back to Mr. Beethoven's health!" Denna demanded of the Doctor.

"Mr. Beethoven, won't you step into my office and we'll go over my examination."

"You're done examining me already? I'm not well versed in medicine, but all you've done so far is pull and tug on my face, shine a bright light in my eyes and nearly deafen me in one shot!"

"Don't worry sir. It usually doesn't take me this long, but I believe I have correctly diagnosed you…shall we?" asked the Doctor as he tossed his cardigan back on and tucked the sonic screwdriver away.

"All right Doctor, where to?" Ludwig inquired.

Instead of heading back to the door they had come in through, the Doctor made his way to the large wardrobe in the corner of the room. The Doctor opened the door to the wooden wardrobe and to Beethoven's surprise there stood another set of doors inside his wardrobe. These weren't any ordinary doors either, they were a unique shade of blue with a small sign on its left door.

"Free for public use? Are you a medical missionary? What's this police nonsense?" Out of all the questions asked by Beethoven, it shocked Denna that none of them involved a big blue box inside of his wardrobe.

"Oh it is but a cover old chap," the Doctor ensured Beethoven, "I like to keep my profession a bit of a secret," which to the Doctor's credit was not a lie. And so they all stepped up into Mr. Beethoven's wardrobe and through the Tardis' doors.

To the Doctor's disappointment, Beethoven yet again seemed not to be too impressed by his Tardis. "You've got a nice little laboratory going here doctor," Ludwig said nonchalantly.

"Little? Well that's a first," the Doctor muttered to himself. The Doctor placed his screwdriver upright into a holster on the main console of the Tardis. He persistently spun a spinny-thing and tugged on a pully-thing. He yanked over a monitor that slid around from the other side of the large glass column in the center of the console. Millions of words scrolled up the screen and to the side of the scrolling text appeared flashes of what appeared to be white outlines of creatures.

"So Doctor, what's the verdict?" Denna asked, trying to appear as helpful as possible.

"Well, Ludwig, before this ringing began, did you come in contact with anything strange or out of the ordinary?" the Doctor requested.

"No. Not that I recall."

Unbeknownst to Beethoven, something odd, though it was so miniscule, did indeed happen to him several months ago. Back before Beethoven's hearing had become a problem, he was hired to play a private showing for one of the more prominent families in Vienna, the Duke of Teschen. Now, playing for a Duke requires more than playing for a general noble family. Besides dressing up more than usual, the musician had to be on his best behavior and their etiquette to be on point.

Beethoven had always been free spirited and a bit ill-tempered, so being a complete gentleman around a bunch of wealthy nobility was rough for him to do. Besides being dressed to fit the part of a noble, Beethoven was required to wear a powdered wig. Unfortunately, on that specific night that Beethoven was supposed to play for the Duke of Teschen, he had misplaced his old tattered wig that had once belonged to his father.

Instead of running around, breaking his back to look for a new wig, Beethoven decided to just make his way to the Duke's estate. However, on the way, they passed by what seemed to be a brand new wig shop – Archibald's – and once the bright new shine of Archibald's glistened in Beethoven's eye. He had had a change of heart and decided to halt the carriage in its tracks to have one of his travel associates run in and get the first wig he saw. So that is what was done.

However, unbeknownst to Beethoven or his associate who purchased the wig, this certain wig, and all of the wigs in Archibald's had come further, a lot further from where their "custom made in London" tag had advertised.

Unfortunately, the Doctor couldn't read mind nor was he clever enough to formulate that a simple trip to a wig shop could have caused all of this trouble.

The Doctor paced back and forth, not because he was nervous, but because he didn't like it when he had no answers to the problems that confronted him. "Ludwig…this may sound strange to you, and it might be because I don't have a logical explanation yet, but…"

"Oh, out with it Doctor," Denna pushed the Doctor. "Whatever it is, we'll do our best for Mr. Beethoven, right?"

The Doctor replied with a simple smile and nod, then continued, "Have you ever heard of Arachnets, Ludwig?"

"No, I can't say I have."

"They are these rare creatures, that even I have limited knowledge of…"

"Creatures? Why are you bringing up uncommon creatures instead of giving me my diagnosis?"

But instead of directly answering Beethoven, the Doctor kept rambling on. "And these creatures are so microscopic that no one has ever seen one, which could attribute to the lack of information on them." At that Denna took a look at the Tardis' monitor and saw "Arachnet" flashing on the screen and instead of a white outline of the being next to it, it simply read "No Image Available." And so, Denna began to piece the puzzle together.

"Doctor, has there been some contact with an Arachnet?" Denna asked.

"Oh, there has been plenty! Regrettably, it is after they have fed on their prey and moved on to their next victim."

"Enough with this silly monster non-sense! I have hired you to help bring me back to health, not to tell scary stories!" Beethoven's ill-temper now began to show.

"Mr. Beethoven! That's it! These Arachnets are in your head! That's what is causing the ringing in your ears!" Denna said, surprising the Doctor that she had figured out Beethoven's ailments almost as quickly as he had. In fact, the Doctor was quite relieved he didn't have to be the one to give the bad news for once.

"Arachnets? Impossible! I've never even heard of such a thing."

"And I doubt anyone on Earth has," the Doctor said plainly. "The one thing that is known about their race is that they are trebators. They feed off the energy of sound waves and what better source of energy then the ear drums of a musician."

The look of utter dismay crept on to Ludwig von Beethoven's face, for in this instance he knew all was lost. But he kept his chin up and thought the Doctor might give him hope. "Since I am a living being (and Beethoven certainly stressed the word 'living') with Arachnets inside of myself, and you are a doctor…"

"The Doctor."

"Yes yes. Isn't this the perfect opportunity to study these evil little buggers? At worst at least you'd get some vital information on them, right?"

"And at best we could heal you," Denna intervened, trying to give a little light to the situation, but the Doctor shot her a deadly look as if saying "never give anyone false hope."

The Doctor ran off down one of the pathways that splits off of where they had been standing. He came woefully stumbling back with what appeared to be a large metal bowl that resembled a pasta strainer that was encircled by a mess of wires and a small suction cup hanging off either side.

"Shall we try this first?" asked the Doctor.

"Will it hurt?" Beethoven curiously asked back.

"Does a penguin fly?" the Doctor retorted confidently.

And so Denna found a seat for their patient to sit down on and calmed him as much as possible. The Doctor placed his contraption on top of Beethoven's head. Though it did have a chin strap, the Doctor could not get the darn thing straight, so not only did Beethoven have an upside down bowl on his head but he looked like a drunken man with an upside down bowl on his head.

The Doctor had Denna gently place each suction cup on the patient's ears. The suction cups had appeared too strong for once they were on, Denna could not take them off, even to readjust their position. Finally the Doctor ran a lengthy cord that was attached to the backside of the metal helmet to the center of the Tardis.

With a look of relief on his face their nervous patient stammered out, "Well, that's not too bad."

"I haven't turned the switch yet sir," said the Doctor pointing at a large red switch.

Terror had found its residency back on Mr. Beethoven when the Doctor reached for that large red switch. Instantly, the switch had been flipped. 'Beeps' and 'boops' made their way out of the metal apparatus. Denna and Beethoven then started to relax a bit when the suction cups on both of Ludwig's ears suddenly began viciously thrusting back and forth, as if trying to suck out their poor patient's brains!

Beethoven held on to his seat for dear life; he dug his nails into the arms of the chair, he tensed up as if holding in a shiver and his face started to turn a deep purple that greatly worried Denna, but seemed to entertain the Doctor.

A minute or two into the process, Denna noticed that the Doctor had turned his attention to a clock counting down the seconds. The clock, now at 25 seconds, must have going for at least two minutes now and Denna hoped that after the now 15 seconds the mechanism would shut off. As the clock approached zero, the Doctor counted down with the clock: "Six…five…four...three...two…one, Happy New Year!" Nobody seemed as amused by the Doctor's light-hearted joke as he was; however, they were all relieved to see that the brain sucking pumps had stopped now.

"Quickly now," the Doctor urged Beethoven, "Take off that silly looking helmet, stand up and hop on one leg while tilting your head to the side."

Beethoven gladly did as he was told, tossing the Doctor's metal apparatus to the floor and began hopping on one leg. "Very good…now tilt your head to the other side," the Doctor cheered on.

After a good two minutes, Beethoven stopped, resting his hands on his knees as he attempted to catch his breath.

"So, how do you feel?" the Doctor astutely inquired.

"The ringing is not so bad, but that might be because this pounding headache is drowning it out."

"Very well, let us take a scan then," said the Doctor as he pulled out his sonic screwdriver.

Denna sat Beethoven back down in the chair he had so willingly just gotten up from. The Doctor then began to scan around Beethoven's head, from his hair to his chin – section by section. The Doctor was being as cautious and precise as Denna had ever seen him with his screwdriver. Once the Doctor had been completely satisfied that he had scanned every single possible angle of Beethoven's head, he approached the same holster he had once placed his sonic screwdriver in.

After he had placed his device into the Tardis, the Doctor immediately turned his screen out of view of Denna and Ludwig, to privately study the scan. For one reason or another the Doctor started to squint at the monitor and erratically looked around from one corner to the other. He then pulled off his glasses, took a breath on both lenses and made the effort to wipe them clean.

Now that the Doctor was set, he looked over the scan of Beethoven's cranium again. With his hand over his chin, the Doctor remained as quite as a mouse during his study.

"May I be frank, Mr. Beethoven?" the Doctor asked politely.

"Certainly."

The Doctor turned his monitor towards Denna and Ludwig, "Here is the results of your scan." The scan had been a general outline of the inner workings of Beethoven's head. The scan was mainly white, but had speckles of green here and there.

"Well that certainly doesn't look too bad now, right Doctor? Everything seems to be where it should be," Denna said optimistically.

"Yes, you are correct, everything is where is should be…but, here is a scan of someone not infected with Arachnets…" A very similar outline of a scan came on the screen now, splitting the monitor in to two: Beethoven's on one side, the non-infected head on the other. The only difference was the color of the scan itself, while Beethoven's only had speckles of green, the healthy scan was completely green. At this sight, Denna immediately put her hand over her mouth.

"You see Mr. Beethoven, the white on your scan is from the mass of Arachnets living inside of you." This time, the Doctor knew, he had to be the one to deliver the bad news to Beethoven, not Denna. "I'm afraid to say, but with this abundance of Arachnets inside of you, we're just too late."

"So I'm a dead man walking?" Beethoven asked solemnly.

"As these nasty little things are trebators, they will go for your hearing first. After your hearing is gone, it will be tough for most of them to survive, some may die off, some may just flee, but some may stay and find whatever energy they can. I wish I could say you'll make it through this and live a safe, long life, but I can't. Most don't even make it before their hearing is completely gone, others go mad after they have lost their hearing. But I do know you are strong enough to conquer this and make it through this. Remember, you are as powerful as you want to be."

The Doctor's speech did appear to uplift Beethoven a bit, but not quite as much for Denna. "But Doctor, there's nothing else you can do? No where you can take him that may be able to help him more?"

"I'm sorry Ms. D., this scan we took today might be the closest anyone has gotten to study the Arachnets. No matter what happens to Mr. Beethoven here, he has absolutely done more for our world than anyone will ever know. Who knows, if this leads to an antidote, maybe we'll even name it after you Mr. Beethoven."

"Heh, at least I'll be known for one thing," said Beethoven with his head hanging low.

"Oh, Mr. Beethoven, you still have your music. Won't you play something for us now, please?" Denna said as she locked her arm into Beethoven's, ready to be led out of the Tardis and towards the nearest piano.

Beethoven somberly said, "Alright then, for all the hard work I put you both through, and towards a future cure!"

And so, the Doctor swung open the doors to the Tardis and the Doctor, the nurse and the patient all stepped out of the "lab" and back into Beethoven's bed chambers. Before they made it out of the room, a light bulb went off in the Doctor's head when he passed by Ludwig's mantle.

"Wait one minute!" the Doctor shouted. He ran over to the antique, oak mantle where a powder-white wig laid upon the top of a wooden head. He took a scan of the wig and ran back into the Tardis. After a minute or two, the Doctor ran back out into the room. Before Denna could ask what was going on, the Doctor grabbed hold of the wooden head with the wig on top and scampered back into the Tardis. Not more than a moment later, a loud burst came from the inside of the Tardis, and then the Doctor awkwardly stumbled out, hands free.

"Wigs!" the Doctor cried out. "What better way for a miniscule predator to get to their victims! Wigs! Almost all men and women where one nowadays at least once in their life!"

"You're telling me that wig is why I have a head full of killer bugs?! Archibald's was barely in business a month before it went out of business!"

"Hmmm, out of business you say? Very interesting. I can't help but wonder if that shop was put there for the sole purpose of spreading the Arachnets," said the Doctor, doing his best Sherlock Holmes impersonation. The Doctor then turned to Denna, "We may need to stop by Archibald's after we leave…"

"Well I certainly won't wear a wig again! Now, I promised you both a song, did I not?" asked Beethoven, leading them out the room.

Beethoven led them into a large, empty room that housed a grand piano in he played the most heart-felt, earnest song. It wasn't a piece he had already composed, it was him letting his emotions speak for himself. Throughout the song, you could tell that Denna was holding back tears, but rather than letting her emotions get the best of her, she stayed strong the entire time. The same couldn't be said about the Doctor who was a down right sap and had to pat his eyes dry on several occasions.

When he had finished, Beethoven realized that Denna and the Doctor had been greatly touched by his performance. "I'm sorry about that. As I played, all I could think of was how much I loved music and what I would do without it! I wouldn't be able to survive. I'd even saw off the legs of my piano if it means I can still feel my music!"

"Oh, Ludwig, I wish I could play half as well as you!" Denna said admiring Beethoven's talents.

"You certainly could, Ms. D., it is all a state of mind. You have to love your art, be your art. Don't only practice your art, but force your way into its secrets; art deserves that, for it and knowledge can raise man to the Divine," Beethoven insightfully said.

The three said their goodbyes – each considering themselves friends now – after they sat down for a cup of tea in comfortable silence. Denna gave a warm, loving hug to Beethoven as they left his Vienna home. Before the Doctor could get out the door, Beethoven asked him once final question: "Doctor, I must know something about Ms. D., she has stolen my heart and I don't know one thing about her, not even her name!"

"Of course ole' chap. Her name is Antonia Brentano." And with that the Doctor shook Beethoven's hand good-bye. Before he made his way out of the door the Doctor passed Beethoven a vial filled to the brim with a purple liquid. "One drop in each ear every morning should make the pain a bit more bearable."

"Thank you." And so the Doctor and Beethoven said a second good-bye.

Walking out the door the Doctor added, "And don't worry about running out. It's a 'never-ending' liquid. Clever little invention of mine."

After Denna and the Doctor left Beethoven's Vienna house, they made their way to where Archibald's once stood. All that was left now was rubble and an empty lot. The Doctor scavenged through the rubble, searching for any sign of whom or what was running this once upon a time wig shop.

"This is no good, Denna, Arachnets could just be the beginning of whoever's plan this is."

"But how do you know they weren't just acting on their own, preying on helpless noblemen?"

"Though Arachnets are predators, they're too small in size to fully operate on a scale of this magnitude on their own. There must be somebody behind this, but what's scary is I can't find clues as to who they are or what their motive is. There's got to be something I'm just missing…How do you feel about chasing after this mystery?"

"To tell the truth, I've been wondering if after we were done here if I'd be able to go back to the Four Corners for a while? You know me…can't stay in one place too long."

The Doctor was taken back a bit, but knew that Denna just needed time back in familiar grounds. It wouldn't be the first time one of his travelling companions missed home. "No problem at all, shall we head back now then?"

Denna nodded her head 'yes' in response.

The Doctor brought Denna back outside the Eolian in Imre on the night Kvothe had won his pipes. He pulled something out of his pocket the size of a small stone. "This right here is what they call a 'beeper pager,' I got it from one of my favorite decades of all time on Earth, the 1980's. If you ever need me or change your mind, all you need to do is send my 'beeper pager' a message with this…" The Doctor pulled out a device that was just a bit larger than his beeper. "All you have to do is press this button," said the Doctor pointing at the lone red button on the box. "And it will tell alert my pager. BUT, you have to promise not to show it to anyone. Promise?" the Doctor asked as he handed Denna the small metal box.

"Promise."

So the Doctor left Imre and Denna behind and headed back to 1796 Vienna to further investigate the Arachnet epidemic and its origin.

As for Beethoven, he lived 31 more years after his encounter with the Doctor. As Beethoven grew older and his hearing was getting more and more worse, he grew more bitter, short-tempered and angry. And yes, he stopped wearing wigs. However, one thing still warmed his heart and kept him going all those years: Antonia Brentano.

In his later years, Beethoven wrote a now infamous letter that has been come known as the "Immortal Beloved." I will spare you the details of the letter, but most believe it marks the collapse of Beethoven's hopes to seek happiness.

He was left with his music, the Arachnets, and the pain when the Doctor's mystic potion wore off. Though wigs slowly started to become out of style, Beethoven knew that the Arachnets or whoever was controlling them would find a way to prey on their victims…that is unless the Doctor had solved the mystery of the Arachnets. Unfortunately, after that faithful day in 1796, Beethoven never saw the Doctor again.

Beethoven would always remember that faithful day the Doctor and Denna visited him. The one thing he would say to you if he could talk to you now? Don't think twice the next time you have ringing in your ear…you were warned.

Join Denna and the Doctor next week for more adventures in:

White Noise