The Governor and an armed contingent of men were waiting for their return by the drawbridge of the castle, and as soon as the horse cantered over the wooden bridge, the armed men closed in behind them, guns trained back out into the darkness as they formed rank and ushered them back inside. Once everyone was in, the drawbridge was pulled back up and the portcullis dropped down, cutting off the only entrance into and out of the castle and securing it safely closed. But, for added security, a forcefield was then activated, and the entire castle was encased in a bubble of rippling, crackling blue energy.

Sliding carefully from the saddle into the Governor's waiting arms, Aeryn staggered unsteadily, but was quickly propped up again by her father, who was beside himself with worry. He fussed over her for several moments before she finally found her voice again and told him to leave her alone, much to the Doctor's amusement, after which she was smothered in a huge hug instead.

"Dad!" She snapped at last. "Will you listen to me? I'm fine! Nothing a quick bath won't fix! But you've got to sound an evacuation. Get everyone into the castle. Now!"

"What's going on?" the Governor frowned, though he was looking past Aeryn now, to the Doctor. Apparently having decided that the Doctor hadn't kidnapped his daughter at all, the Governor was now viewing him as her saviour, though he had yet to say as much. Knowing her father though, if the Doctor was waiting for a thank you, he'd have a very, very long wait. Her father wasn't the gratuitous kind, after all.

"There's a monster out there," the Doctor informed him now, standing proudly with his hands behind his back. "And I think you should do as your daughter says. IF anyone is still alive out there, bring them here. Will make it easier to keep a track of them. And hope that none of them are in fact the killer creature. Because that would be a little embarrassing."

"A monster?" Her father spluttered, unsure whether to laugh at the absurdity of it, in case this was all some big stupid joke, or actually take the Doctor and his word seriously.

"It's true, Dad," Aeryn told him quietly. "I saw it. It….it killed Captain Kyon."

The Governor gave her a sympathetic look, then kissed her on the forehead before wiping away the blood from her split lip with the pad of his thumb. "I'm sorry my love. Why don't you go and get yourself rested and recuperated, and I'll talk to the Doctor about what we can do?"

"Play nice," she warned with a hint of a smile, as she limped off, aided by Corporal Dale, a junior officer of her father's army. As soon as she was gone, the Governor walked over to the Doctor, looked him square in the eye, then puffed out his chest imperiously.

"I don't know what sort of game you're trying to play, Doctor, running off with my daughter and filling her head with delusions of monsters, but it stops now. Do you understand me? In the morning, I'm sending out a search team to round up Kyon and the rest of the cavalry, and I'll get the truth from them about what went on out there tonight. I've heard all about you from Kye and Darl so I know you're a trouble maker. I'm not stupid - "

The Doctor made a muffled snorting noise of amusement.

"You think that's funny?!" The Governor bristled.

"I think it's very funny. Because I think you're very stupid. But don't let me stop you. Carry on."

"How dare you! I want you out of here by morning, do you hear me?! You pack your things and you leave! And if I find out you've been within a hundred feet of my daughter, I'll kill you myself. Do I make myself clear?"

The Doctor wanted to argue back, but a voice in his mind chose that moment to speak up then. A very familiar voice, that belonged to a certain young woman.

A voice that sent a searing stab of pain through both hearts.

"Doctor," Clara warned him. "You're a better man than he is. Don't let his stupidity stop you. Use the cards if you're really struggling, but don't give in to the likes of him."

The Governor huffed impatiently, clearly expecting an answer, but the Doctor held up one finger in the silent command to wait, whilst he dug in his pockets and pulled out the prompt cards that Clara had made for him, so, so long ago. Or so it felt.

He flicked through them for a moment, before coming across two possible ones he could use.

"It's at times like this, I could really use you, Clara," he grumbled quietly, before finally stuffing the rest back into his pocket and holding the two cards out to the Governor, raising his other hand over his eyes, much like some magicians did to prove they weren't peeping when asking an audience member to do something.

"Pick a card," he told him.

The Governor scowled. "This is no time for games, Doctor!"

"Fine, fine!" The Doctor snapped, turning to one of the nearby soldiers and holding the cards out to him in the same manner. "Pick a card."

Uncertain what was going on, the soldier did as he was told and pulled one of the cards from the Doctor's hand. The Doctor shoved the other card back into his pocket with the rest, took the chosen card from the soldier and read it out loud.

"I could be wrong. Let's try it your way."

"Is this some sort of joke?!" The Governor roared, and the Doctor frowned.

"Well I was leaning towards using the other card, but it's too late now. It's his fault." He pointed an accusing finger at the soldier. The Governor looked fit to explode then, so the Doctor sighed.

"I'll go and pack my stuff, shall I?"

"That would be a very good idea, sir!"

So with the Governor's eyes burning into the back of his head, the Doctor dug his hands into his pockets and made to go back in the direction of the guest bedrooms, where he'd been offered a place to stay only a few hours earlier, under the pretence of gathering his so called belongings. But of course he had no stuff to pack. It was all in the TARDIS, which was still where he'd left it, out in the middle of the woods. And there was no way he was going back out there without some sort of idea about what it was that he was actually facing. He might be an idiot with a box, but he wasn't stupid.

Which was when the idea came to him, and he took a detour up to the Royal Wing, hoping his hunch was right.

There were plenty of women in the Castle, though they were all servants, soldiers and maids. Aeryn was the only woman of status, and that was only because she was the Governor's daughter. Not to mention Governess herself – her status ranking her as equal to her father, despite being his daughter.

This meant that she had her own private quarter in the Royal Wing, complete with her own bathroom that was long and wide, with four large stone-lipped tubs sunk into the floor, each large enough for four or five grown men to drown in simultaneously. Then there were six bathroom stalls, five shower stalls, marble flooring and a row of sinks along one wall. The fact there was more than one of everything stemmed from the time of her ancestors – or her adoptive ancestors at least – who had had several daughters and women of nobility living in the castle at one time, and who would all have shared this bathroom together.

Aeryn was the only one who ever used this room now though, but it was always warm and steamy, and the tubs were always full and bubbling never-the-less.

Too exhausted by the pain she was in now that the adrenaline had worn off, added to the fact that she'd been awake for thirty two hours straight by this point, Aeryn couldn't really bring herself to care about anything else right then. She flicked on the terminal just inside the door, chose a playlist at random, pressed play and turned the volume up as high as it would go.

Then, as an ensemble of various different types of music blasted through the entire room, she lowered herself into the tub furthest from the door, still fully clothed. Only once she was submerged up to her neck in the cloudy not-really-water did she begin to very gingerly peel off the layers of dirtied clothing and dump them in a soggy, tangled heap as far from the tub as she could throw them. The only clothes she kept on were her underwear, determined to preserve at least some dignity, should anyone barge in as they often had a habit of doing, despite the fact this was the one place that was out of bounds to everyone – including her father. Mind you if anyone burst in now, they'd have a very pained, and by extension now very angry, Governess on their case, so only a fool would really even take such a chance.

Aeryn inhaled sharply as her shoulder flared in pain – when had that started to hurt?! She couldn't even remember, though there had been plenty of opportunities recently for her to have knocked it, or cracked the collar bone, or maybe even dislocated it. No, she'd have known straight away if it was dislocated. Still, she was rewarded with a strong whiff of the water she was now submerged in, as the pain died down again.

The water was strange, smelt like minerals and had a flat tang – a bit like waxen oranges. It didn't feel like regular water either, yet Aeryn still hadn't found out exactly what it was in the tubs. Whatever it was, it was jelly-thick and for a few seconds after touching bare skin it was so hot it stung. Then it would coat the skin completely, and the bubbles would turn sheer instead of translucent. Time spent in the tubs rapidly increased the body's natural healing process like crazy. It could mend broken bones in half an hour, prevent bruises from ever forming and reduce gashes and wide open wounds to mere scratches in less than ten minutes.

Sitting on the stone bench that ran round the edge of the tub, Aeryn cupped some of the heavy not-really-water in her palms, closed her eyes and smoothed it over her face. It crackled, soothing heat working its way past the ache of a sneakily developing black eye. Again, not really knowing how or when she'd even been hit in the face hard enough for a black eye to have started forming, and deciding at that moment that she didn't really care either, she sighed and laid her head back against the edge of the tub for a moment, relaxing in the warmth.

Relax. Something she very rarely got to do these days.

Realising rather belatedly however that her exhaustion was now starting to catch up to her and she was drifting off, she forced herself awake again sharply, eyes flying open and the mineral water crackling, falling away in little shards of white - the product of whatever the liquid actually was, reacting with the air. Wet hair hung in strings down past her shoulders, though all her braids had fallen out by now and she was left with just dark, wet hair crackling with the weird crystals of the not-water.

Her hip surged in another flare of pain, as though to remind her that it was still not completely sorted, so sitting up a little and moving to the edge of the bench, she watched as the not-water fizzed around her, heat burrowing in through her muscles, soothing and healing. Every now and then her hip would crackle as the bone knitted itself back together, sealing over the crack and repairing it so that it would be good as new by the time she was finished.

Taking one deep, long drag of the steamy air, she once again closed her eyes and pushed herself off the edge of the bench, into the centre of the tub. There, it was so deep that even standing on tip-toes her head didn't break the surface.

She remained hidden under the surface for what felt like an eternity, not really thinking about anything in particular...just trying to take her mind off the pain of her most recent wounds. And the even bigger pain – namely the Doctor – who had been the cause of 99% of them, albeit indirectly, in the first place.

The way he'd switched from raging fury one moment, to excited 'kid on Christmas morning' the next. The way he'd been so dead set on bringing justice to those hunters for the weasel cull, but had quickly backed down when she'd used her powers against him to show him a ghost from his past. And the way he'd then come to her, trusting her above anyone else to help him save a kingdom that he didn't even live in, had no responsibility for, and was just passing through on his travels.

Her lungs burned, reminding her that time was not on her side right now. Her head, shoulders and hip gave one last heave of pain each, then subsided, and she surfaced in a rushing splash, grabbing for the stone bench once more and pulling herself back to sit on it.

The not-water dribbled away from her hair, slicked her face, crackled as it hit open air, and instantly formed a weird, wax-white coating over every inch of exposed skin. She groaned, knowing it would take at least ten minutes in the shower to wash it from her hair, then very carefully stood on the stone ledge and stepped out of the bath. At least she'd regained the use of her leg properly now – her hip no longer felt broken or cracked, just bruised, and a large purple patch on her shoulder would be the only reminder of whatever she'd done, most likely when she'd been out in the woods with the Doctor.

Raising a hand and probing her lip carefully with one finger, she was relieved to find that it was no longer split and was only ever so slightly sore. Her black eye had vanished, too, before it had ever really properly formed, so that was also a bonus.

Over all, she was now feeling pretty good about herself as she stepped out of the bath, despite standing in the middle of a huge open room in only her underwear, with no dry clothes to change into, and the weird wax stuff coating every inch of exposed skin.

It didn't take long for this feeling to wear off, however, as after showering to get herself clean of the not-water, she opened the large oak wardrobe beside the door, only to find that she'd stupidly forgotten to stash some more clothes in there after her last trip to the baths.

Groaning at herself in frustration, she rinsed her old clothes under the tap to get them as clean of the waxy stuff and dirt as possible, then wrung them out and slipped back into everything except the white linen shirt she'd been wearing, because that was completely see through, and despite the fact she was wearing a black vest underneath, she just didn't see the need. So instead she settled for just the vest, leaving her bruised shoulder exposed and wishing that she'd brought her jacket, or even her cloak with her for an extra layer of warmth. Hopefully she'd have time to go back to her room and change into something dry before she was called upon again.

Though somehow, she very much doubted it. As was proven moments later when she walked from the room, and almost walked straight into the Doctor.

"There you are, Hoppity!" He smiled in delight as he picked up the towel which she'd been using to dry her hair, but had dropped in surprise when she'd very nearly collided with him. He then draped it back round her shoulders like a blanket, though she was expecting him to have thrown it over her head – and the look he was wearing told her that he'd been sorely tempted to in fact do just that. "I need your help."

"Seriously?!" she groaned, motioning to her soaked appearance. "Can't I have a few minutes to get sorted?"

"No time," the Doctor shook his head. "Some thing's a lurkin' out there, and your father thinks I'm making it up. He also warned me to stay away from you, but I don't usually tend to listen to things I disagree with, so here I am."

"You have a problem with authority?" She smirked, pulling the towel tighter about herself as she started to shiver.

"When I'm in the room, I AM the authority," the Doctor told her matter-of-factly. Then he looked all about, as though expecting to see something. "Do you have a library?"

"Of course."

"Good. That's - why are you all wet? Did you have an argument with a puddle?"

"I've just had a bath."

"...In your clothes?"

"Why not?"

He considered this for a moment as they started off towards the library. And then he shrugged.