Chapter 2- The Earl and the Lady
Author's Note: Hello all! Thank you so much for your reviews for the last chapter, sorry for the delay, but I have been really snowed under with work. I will try and update weekly if possible.
The Doctor's fingers trembled as he adjusted the controls on the TARDIS. His insides begged an answer, his stomach churned at the question and his hearts beated with anticipation.
He sat back in the control room chair and sighed, paying minimal attention to the weak and distant signal on the screen. There was a blue rectangle connecting to two lines that led to a fuzzy ball each- one was white and the other was red.
The Doctor rose and switched off the screen before turning on his heel. She had been feeling tired after, saying how it felt like she had already spent the day doing something really tasking, but couldn't even remember. She was right, but the Doctor was glad that she couldn't- he was glad to never have to repeat that day ever again.
He entered the library, where he found her, laying serenely on the sofa. Her dark brown hair lay loosely over her cheeks, with a book entitled The Lilac Lady across her softly rising belly.
The Doctor found himself simpering as he watched her for a moment before taking off his jacket to place over her.
However, her eyes snapped open before he could approach. "Hey," she yawned.
"Clara! S-sorry, I d-didn't mean to wake you," the Doctor stammered. What was wrong with him, he had never stammered in front of her, so why was it so different now? She had caught him by surprise that was all.
"No, it's fine," Clara waved, sitting up. She gave him a touched yet amused look.
"Good book?" the Doctor asked, changing the subject before she said anything.
"What?" Clara looked at the book as if for the first time. "Oh, yeah... I've not really read much."
"Do you feel safe?" the Doctor asked suddenly.
"What?" Clara giggled.
"How safe do you feel?" the Doctor pressed. "Ten being- haaaahhhhhh," he sighed. "One being- aaaarrrgh!" He waved his arms about pretending to scream.
"You're being weird," Clara commented lightheartedly.
"I need to know if you feel scared," the Doctor insisted with a touch of impatience; he needed to know, even if the inevitable was to come.
"Of what?" Clara said.
"Of the future. You're running off with a madman in a box, anything can happen to you," the Doctor pointed out.
"That's what I'm counting on," Clara replied cheekily. "You remember when I said 'show me something awesome'? That's what I meant."
The Doctor smiled, content with that answer. Part of him nagged with the words: if only she knew... but he blocked them out.
"How about we see something else that's awesome?" he suggested, clapping his hands together. "Clara, do you like tennis? Have you had the joy of seeing the Roses Tennis Tournament of 2085?"
"Yes and no- since I'm not a ninety year old woman," Clara grinned.
"No, I suppose you can't be as good looking as I was at ninety," the Doctor pondered. "I had a really baby-"
"Oi!" Clara playfully struck his arm.
"Sorry," the Doctor said, before jumping excitedly and pretending that he had a racket in his hand. "It was so close and so exciting to watch: James Dickson from York against Jasper Harrison from Lancaster... oh, I'm getting goosebumps even thinking about it!"
"All right, don't tell me!" Clara said quickly.
"Fine, I'll show you after you get dressed, eh?"
"Sure, why not?" Clara assented.
Minutes later, she had dressed into a lilac tunic over her black trousers and a red rose, which she had found by her dressing table, was fastened on her.
"What, I'm from Lancaster!" she explained, amused.
"Well, I'm going to have to support York," the Doctor responded and she gave him a look that made him grin inside. "Hey, you have to think about equal opportunities!"
"All right, all right, support the Yorkies," Clara sighed, causing him to grin with excitement.
From the depths of the TARDIS, the Doctor stuck a white rose on the lapel of his jacket and spun around feeling very proud.
"York University, tennis arena, 2085!" the Doctor announced, flicking a few switches on the controls. "Brace yourself!"
"Go on, let's see what you Yorkies can do!" Clara teased, grabbing on to the support as the TARDIS swerved through the vortex.
"OK..." the Doctor muttered. "That's interesting." He had caught sight of the display on the screen- rectangle that had become more defined into the fine outline of a wooden door; the fuzzy balls had morphed into the shape of two intricate flowers.
Suddenly, the TARDIS came to a halt.
"What's that Doctor?" Clara queried, looking at the screen.
"It's nothing!" the Doctor shrugged. "Well, when two things create a lot of excitement, passion or thrill then they creat a bilateral signal that begs visitors to share their passion or hopes, sometimes they even compete and that makes a stronger signal.
"Oh and guess where we are!" he grinned. "Guess where our venue is!"
"Where?" Clara looked intruigingly towards the door.
"Wensleydale!" the Doctor said, dashing out. "Home to-!" He had emerged into what seemed like a bed chamber. There was a four poster bed, which was adjacent to a raven haired man in a black robe and trousers. He drew a sword from his hip and pointed it at them.
"Doctor, I don't think we got it quite right," Clara squeaked.
"What is the meaning of this?" the man bellowed.
"Well..." the Doctor began, looking nervously at Clara. This was not good, this meant that the Doctor had made a big cock up.
"You!" snapped the man, glaring at Clara and pointing the tip of his blade at her, causing her heart to jump into her throat and run like a frantic prey. He had seen the red rose on her tunic. "You are Lancaster! You are Tudor loyalists!"
"W-what?" Clara blurted out, hoping that this was some immature prank by first-class actors. "No!"
"No, your Grace, we are most certainly not Tudor loyalists!" the Doctor declared with authority, pushing in between the sword and Clara. He puffed out his chest, hoping that the man would see his white rose.
The man moved back a little, but continued to circle them with suspicion.
"Clara, may I introduce Richard Plantagenet- also known as Dickon the Third," the Doctor explained.
"I am not Richard, or Dickon!" Richard growled. "I am his Grace the King!"
"Yes, but before that you are a man," the Doctor reasoned.
Clara's blood froze; she gazed at him. Was he out of his mind? How would telling a King, who believed that his blood was golden and divine, that he was a man help?
"A man who has seen a lot, a man who has lost and a man who has, most importantly, felt," the Doctor continued. "Perhaps too much, you sometimes believe."
Clara noticed that the faintest dried stream of a tear remained on Richard's cheek and his grey eyes gave away a deep sorrow. A sorrow that she had known too, she realised when their eyes met.
Richard averted his gaze and lowered his sword without sheathing it.
"Who are you?" he asked hoarsely.
Before they could reply, a large burly man and a tall man with short grey hair and beard charge into the room, swords drawn at the ready.
"Your Grace, what's going on?" the large redhead, called Brackenbury, said.
"Stanley, what are you doing here?" Richard asked the grey haired man.
"I was merely in the vicinity when I heard a commotion, your Grace," Stanley replied. "Who are these intruders? Speak quickly!"
"Not to worry," the Doctor said, brandishing his psychic paper. "I am Doctor, Earl of Gallifrey; this is my travelling companion Lady Clara, Dame of Maitland."
"Are these real estates, your Grace?" Brackenbury said gruffly.
"I'm not sure," Richard pondered, his eyes piercing the white rose on the Doctor's lapel. "Why do you wear the red and white roses? And associate with each other, as if friends?"
Clara and the Doctor looked at each other and resisted the temptation to say: "because we are".
"We are truly sorry for any offence caused, we never meant that," Clara replied.
"I would be very careful about trusting a Lancastrian and Yorkist who claim to be friends," Stanley advised, but Richard and Brackenbury gave him a half amused look.
"He's right, though," Brackenbury conceded. "These are intruders and should be punished-"
"No," Richard decided.
"No?" Brackenbury, Stanley and the Doctor said together.
Clara breathed a sigh of relief.
"No, because we still have use for them," Richard grinned slyly. He sheathed his sword. "You and Lady Clara will be escorted to London, and your cabin will be seized into Royal Custody!"
Clara gasped and her heart started beating rapidly again, as Stanley's pincer grip latched onto her shoulder.
Author's Note: Thanks for reading. It was slightly shorter than I'm usually accustomed to writing, but I hope you leave a review. Sorry, if you see anything weird here- the editor is being a real pain and doing funny stuff. Let me know if anything seems out of place and I'll sort it out ASAP.