A/N Thank you so much for the lovely reviews so far! You make me want to update all the faster.


Chapter 2

Rose maintained her protective grip on the Doctor as she watched the convoy move closer to their position. The horses slowed to a regal trot, spaced six abreast and in perfect sync and lined precision. As they neared, Rose could see that the sleek black animals, though similar in size and movement to horses, had greater musculature and heads similar to that of a lion. The sight of them was both extremely intimidating and highly captivating. Their nostrils flared as they snorted, the mist lingering in the haze of the early dawn – or was it early dusk?

The Doctor would know, Rose thought briefly to herself. His innate sense of timing could tell her the precise hour of the day, down to the exact second. If he were conscious.

Rose's eyes quickly scanned over the formidable group, now just a few meters from her. The men wore what appeared to be a type of uniform of dark blue trousers and tunics, with black vests fastened with silver clasps and calf-length boots, and silver insignia etched across the left side of their chests in symbols Rose could not decipher.

They came to a stop before her. Rose's anxious gaze fixed on the man at the front and center of the convoy. He was the most imposing of them all, with a silver-colored sash across his chest, silver-plated insignia on his broad shoulders and a cape fastened about his neck. He dismounted, his midnight-blue cape billowing behind him as he approached.

Rose swallowed down hard and fought to find her voice as she looked up at him, hoping that at least the TARDIS translation circuits were still functioning. "I...I need help," she managed to state, shaking off her fear from not knowing whether these people were friend or foe. Getting help for the Doctor was her priority, and she would seek it from anyone she could. "Our ship crashed and he's hurt."

The dark-haired man who appeared to be around late twenties to early thirties was clearly someone in high-ranking authority, but beneath his dark, intense eyes there seemed to be a compassion that mitigated her fears. He crouched before her as his eyes quickly assessed the Doctor. He turned his head back to the four men who were approaching from behind. "Bring the cart," he instructed, then turned to address another who was still mounted. "Amron, ride ahead at once and alert my physician."

"Yes, Sire," the man who had ridden on his right acknowledged, before turning his steed and swiftly riding off back in the direction they had come.

The man who was crouched in front of Rose turned back to her, placing his hand on her arm. She noticed an interlocking spiral-shaped marking on the backs of his hands which at first glance looked like a tattoo, but on closer inspection appeared to be more like a type of birthmark. A glance at the other men approaching showed they all bore the same marking. "Have you been injured as well?" the man asked, his eyes scanning her face with concern.

Rose shook her head, fighting down the insistent cough rising up in her throat, still irritated and raspy from the smoke. "'M fine. Thank you. I just need help for him."

The man pulled a silver flask out from around his side and extended it to her. "Here. Drink some of this."

Rose took the flask in her soot-blackened hand and lifted it to her lips. She took several sips before handing it back. The cool water soothed her inflamed throat; but even as her throat was relieved, she felt guilty thinking how even such a simple thing could not be done for the Doctor.

The other men approached, and Rose was reluctant to release her protective hold on the Doctor, but she eased back and gave him over to the four men who carefully lifted him and placed him in an open cart pulled by a team of two of the horse-like animals. The streamlined coach was small, only sizable for one, which didn't allow Rose to ride with him.

The man she had spoken with, apparently one of nobility if the title of Sire was anything to go by, put a hand on her shoulder as she stood overlooking the Doctor. He spoke with both command and reassurance. "You will ride with me."

Rose simply nodded, casting one more glance at the Doctor to be sure he was secure before following with the man leading her. She slipped her arms back in her jacket she had used to press to the Doctor's head, now stained with blood. He mounted his charger, then extended his arm down and hoisted Rose up behind him. Rose held to his waist as he gave the forward command and the troop moved out in unison back in the direction they had come, leaving the battered TARDIS behind them.

Once out of the low-lying valley, Rose realized they had not been far from civilization. In the distance before them, a city rising out of the golden mountainscape began to come into view as they crested a steep hill. Rose's eyes were drawn to what appeared to be a castle sitting atop the highest point of the distant peak.

As they grew even nearer, the stone structures of the city became more distinct. A towering amphitheater stood at the town's center, but even this was eclipsed by the looming castle which stood as a focal point, encircled by a fortified wall of stone. Its shining spires arose from the massive gray stone turrets and reached towards the deep turquoise sky. Despite the grave circumstances currently faced with the condition of both the TARDIS and the Doctor, Rose couldn't help but be awed just a little by the majestic sight. It was almost like something out of a fairytale, yet the imposing structure also carried an intimidating aura.

The hooves of the powerful black steeds clacked in unison along the stone-paved streets as they entered the town. It was a bustling city of both homes and marketplaces, and most of the transport seemed to be by drawn carriage or simply on foot. The townspeople parted before them, lining the sides of the street and looking on attentively as the entourage passed by.

As Rose scanned the crowds she noticed there seemed to be two distinctive races of people. There were those like the men she rode with, whose skin tone varied from shades of light to dark, but all with dark hair and eyes and the same interlocking spiral markings on the backs of their hands. And then there were those with a pallid skin tone and hair so white it nearly gleamed, with bright, piercing blue eyes. They also did not seem to bear the same markings as the others on their hands. Rose was so often fascinated with the people and cultures of the worlds they visited, but right now she took it all in with only half attention as her anxious thoughts were still focused on the Doctor.

They soon approached the main outer gate of the castle, and the portcullis rose to allow entrance as the regal line of mounted men entered the castle grounds. Rose's focus remained solely on the Doctor as she dismounted, not bothering to wait for assistance as she swung her leg over and jumped to the ground. She hurried back over to where he lay, still unconscious.

A middle-aged man came forward who had apparently been awaiting their arrival. Though his hair was mostly gray, it was not the stark white of some of the people they had passed in the town, and he appeared to be of the same ethnicity as the others she had first met.

The man Rose had ridden with came up beside her at the cart and addressed the other gentleman. "This man is injured. Take him within and begin tending him right away."

The man nodded. "Of course, Sire." He moved forward and gave the Doctor a quick assessing look before stepping aside. "Carry him to the medical chamber," he instructed to two men on his right.

Rose began to immediately follow, but was stopped by a hand on her shoulder. She turned. The man she had ridden with gave her a small but reassuring smile. "He is being cared for by my personal physician. I know you are highly concerned, but I assure you he is in good hands."

Rose stayed just long enough to at least offer her thanks. "Thank you. I...I don't know what I'd have done if you hadn't come along."

"It was as it was meant to be," he replied cryptically, his eyes searching hers as if she were a grand mystery. "We will speak again later, but first I know you are anxious to accompany him."

Rose was too distracted by her worry over the Doctor to pause long enough to give his words or demeanor too much thought. She just nodded and began quickly walking in the direction the Doctor had been taken, but turned her head back as she continued away. "I don't even know your name," she called back.

"Zerin," he answered. "King of Zobulan."

Blimey. Should she bow or curtsy? Under any other circumstances maybe. But Rose just stumbled a bit in her stride at the revelation, then turned, swiftly continuing on after the Doctor.

She caught up and followed behind the men carrying him into the castle. They came into a grand entrance hall with surrounding open archways leading off into several large chambers and assembly rooms, but they veered left and ascended a spiral stone staircase, then proceeded down a stone-walled arched corridor, and finally into a chamber on the left.

The room was clearly for medical purposes, with its various instruments and a gurney draped in a white sheet in the center of the room. Rows of shelves lined the wall on the far right, filled with apothecary jars of various shapes, sizes, and substances.

The Doctor was carefully placed down on the bed, and the two men who had carried him left as Rose hurried to his side.

"You have my assurance that he will be well cared for," the physician spoke to her reassuringly as he quickly cleansed his hands with a clear disinfecting substance poured from a bottle he had retrieved from one of the shelves. "I am all-too accustomed to treating serious injuries. Believe me, I have seen far, far worse. Now, please wait outside. I will summon you when I'm through."

Rose wasn't about to leave him. "No," she stated firmly. "I'm gonna stay with him. I can help." Then a little softer, "Please."

He considered her for a moment, then finally nodded in consent, passing her the disinfectant. "Very well. Purify your hands, and then bring over the wash basin and cloths. We must begin cleansing his wounds."

Rose poured a generous amount of the disinfectant into her hands, rubbing briskly, then moved to the long, rectangular stone table on the left side of the room and picked up the steel bowl and stack of folded cloths. She walked back over and placed them down on the bed beside the Doctor as the physician went about stripping off the Doctor's suit jacket.

He indicated across the room. "Now bring the amber colored bottle in the center on the third shelf."

Rose walked over to the shelf lining the right wall, deliberating for a moment before selecting what appeared to be the one. "This?"

He looked up. "Yes. Now pour it into the bowl. It will cleanse and soothe his burns, and speed the healing."

Rose moved back over to the bowl and did as instructed. She looked up as the physician removed the Doctor's jacket, then began stripping him of his light blue button-up shirt, soiled with ash, being careful of the burned skin of the Doctor's neck as he then removed his tie. The Doctor was soon bare from the waist up. Rose stood still and stared at the pale skin of his chest, seeming so fragile in his current state. She had rarely even seen him without his jacket before. Seeing him like this with his protective layers removed, stripped down to nothing but flesh and lacking his pinstriped armor, made him seem almost as weakened and vulnerable as his injured condition.

Rose forced herself to focus on doing what she could to help and moved closer to the Doctor's side. She dipped one of the cloths in the amber liquid she had poured into the bowl and lifted it to the Doctor's face. She dabbed at his raw skin, wincing inwardly as she made contact. The physician continued removing the Doctor's soiled clothing. His trainers and trousers were discarded, and he was stripped down to just his pants now.

The physician carefully examined the Doctor's limbs and abdomen, and Rose was relieved when it became clear his face and head were the only major sources of injury and there didn't appear to be more that had gone unseen.

Rose continued swabbing his burns as the physician attended to the gash on the left side of his head. He applied a sticky black paste to the wound, explaining that it would not only stop the bleeding but speed the healing.

Rose was fighting to keep her emotions tamped down in this because she knew if she allowed herself to break down it would accomplish nothing right now, but it was so hard to see the Doctor like this without feeling her heart twist painfully. She had never seen him in such a state – damaged and defenseless. The physician noticed the anxiety etched across her face and attempted to draw her mind out of its turmoil as they continued working.

"I'm sorry there wasn't time for formal introductions earlier, but my name is Tyrus. And yours?"

Rose looked up at the older man, his expression warm. "I'm Rose," she answered. "And he's...well...he's the Doctor."

"A physician as well," he noted. "And are the two of you...?"

"We're friends," Rose supplied. "We travel together. We're not...from here."

He smiled slightly, his eyes studying her briefly. "Yes, I'd gathered that. It's not often we get distant visitors."

"We didn't exactly intend to visit," Rose answered grimly. "We crashed. That's how he was hurt. He was...he was protecting me, and he put himself in even more danger because of it." The emotion of guilt manifested itself in her tone as a lump formed in her throat. "We shouldn't even be here," she murmured, wishing more than anything that they could simply return to their life in the TARDIS before any of this had happened.

"And yet I believe things often happen for a reason. Perhaps you are exactly where you were supposed to be," he suggested with optimism, yet his words were not merely shallow encouragement. His thoughts were on a possibility that many here were already contemplating.

Rose considered his words. "Well if we are supposed to be here, then we definitely need to work on how we make our entrance," she replied with a fragile smile. A smile he returned, glad to see the lighter expression on her face, albeit tenuous.

Rose focused her attention back to the Doctor and marveled at seeing how the burns on his face and neck were already looking less raw. Whatever was in the medicinal solution was obviously helping. Rose wondered if his own quickened ability to heal was taking affect already as well. This bolstered her hope that he would regain consciousness soon and make a full recovery from this. The recovery of the TARDIS, however, was a whole other matter that she couldn't even allow herself to dwell on just yet. Helping the Doctor recover as soon as possible took priority in her thoughts at the moment.

After tending his burns and head wound, there was one last injury to address. Rose hadn't even wanted to think of this. With the burns to his face, his eyes could have likely been injured as well. With a magnifying instrument in hand, the physician carefully lifted the lid of the Doctor's left eye, then the right. Closely observing, Rose drew a sharp breath at seeing what was revealed. The whites of his eyes were blood-red and his irises clouded. The physician quickly moved over to the medicinal shelf, returning with a small glass bottle and dropper.

"Hold each eye open as I apply this," he instructed.

Rose swallowed down forcefully as she followed his instructions, her stomach clenching as she looked at the Doctor's severely injured eyes. Several drops of thick, opaque ointment were applied to each one. He then began wrapping a strip of white bandaging several layers thick over the Doctor's eyes and securing it at the back of his head to protect them from light.

"He'll be alright," Rose said, not taking her eyes off the Doctor's face and stating it as more of a declaration to herself. She then looked up at Tyrus. "He has this...ability to heal better than most. So he can recover from this. I know he can. He will be able to see again, won't he?"

The physician answered truthfully. "Perhaps. If the damage has not been too extensive then yes, he can heal. But I'm afraid only time will tell for certain."

Rose looked back down at her broken Doctor, fighting the tears that threatened to fall. Here he was, the Lord of Time, now powerless and at Time's mercy.