A/N: I just read over what I have of this story so far, and god I'm slow, aren't I? It's taken me like, ten chapters to practically start the actual storyline! Bloody disgraceful... But tough, I like my filler xD

I have a question though... I've never been familiar with all the fanfiction lingo, and I've only just figured out that AU means Alternative Universe (yas i'm that slow) and I've always come across some characters being referred to as Mary-Sue's. What the hell does that mean?! Just curious :p

Chapter Ten

Voices From Above

The Doctor could quite confidently say that he didn't care for Trolls much at all. They were ignorant and bullish, and had less intelligence than a dead toad. They normally just roamed around in groups, smashing things up like oversized, rowdy drunken teenagers and winding up the locals. They were violent, yes. Stupid, yes. Guards, no.

Trolls didn't have the obedience in them to be guards.

The huge ginger Troll dragged the Doctor down the stone corridor. He had already been hauled down a flight of winding stairs, nearly breaking every bone in his body at the carelessness of the Troll. But he was still okay. Well, marginally. He felt a bit ill really.

'This seems like an awful long way to be pulled,' the Doctor commented. 'Couldn't your boss or whoever have locked me in a tower a little closer to them?'

The Troll didn't respond. He swung the Doctor around a corner and carried down a new corridor.

'No very talkative, are you?' asked the Doctor. 'You're not shy, are you? There's no need to be shy around me.'

He still got to response. The Troll finally came to a stop at a huge oak door and pushed it open. The hinges creaked painfully and then the Doctor was suddenly free of the Troll's grip and stumbling forwards into the new room. Before he had a chance to turn around or speak, the door was slammed shut again and the sounds of the Troll stomping away got quieter and quieter.

The Doctor adjusted his collar. 'Well.' He muttered. 'That's no way to treat guests.'

He shuddered at the chill that racked through him from his wet clothes and looked around his new accommodation. It was a lot larger than the last room, with a rectangular shape. In front of him were three stone steps that led down into what looked like a dining room. There was a fireplace at the far end, but there was no fire. There was a lamp off to one sight, with a flickering bulb. The Doctor approached it, pulling the sonic screwdriver from his pocket.

'Electricity,' he mused. 'Can't be too far from civilisation then.'

He treated the lamp with a blast from the sonic screwdriver, causing it to shine at its full potential. With the aide of it he could now get a better look at his surroundings. It was a dining room all right, it just didn't look like it had been used for a while. The table with thick with dust and cobwebs. It was already laid out with plates and cutlery, but whoever had put them out never got around to eating off them. A little spider was trapped inside a grimy bowl, fighting fruitlessly to climb out. The Doctor gave it a helping hand and it scuttled away down one of the cracks in the wood.

He pulled out one of the heavy chairs and sat down with a sigh, deciding that it was boring to be the one locked in the tower. He could probably get out quite easily – he had been in rooms that were better sealed than this one, and he could probably be out in about five minutes or so, but curiosity was keeping him here. And also the fact that the dragon was probably still hanging around outside somewhere and dragons had good memories. Maybe next time it wouldn't be as considerate and just smoosh him instead of freezing him.

The Doctor wondered if Ashley was okay. She had probably had a major panic attack, if she wasn't still having one. But she wasn't entirely useless… well, not all of the time anyway. She was probably trying to find him right now, although he hoped that she had some kind of a guide. She would probably blunder into some form of danger at some point. Hopefully she would have a relatively good knowledge of fairytales and have the common sense not to eat the apples or talk to any old women. Old women were always trouble around here and they always went for the out-of-towners. Maybe Arnie stayed with her?

'God I hope not,' he mumbled, remembering the rudeness of the horse. 'They won't get anywhere for arguing.'

A slight whirring sound caught his ear and he glanced around curiously. It stopped almost immediately, but it had made enough noise to receive his full attention. He listened and finally became aware of a low hum. It was low enough to be missed; a human would probably not notice it if they tried, but the Doctor had good hearing. He pushed himself up to his feet and looked around with his eyes.

'Fee, fi, fo, fum,' he mumbled, experimenting. 'I can hear a little old hum.'

The whir sounded again and he half smiled. It was recording equipment, recording whenever he spoke. If there were microphones, it meant someone was listening. He pulled the sonic screwdriver from his pocket and turned it on, searching for the equipment. The signal led him to a musty old vase balanced on a stand that was about five feet tall. The Doctor tucked the screwdriver away and listened.

He whistled a very quick version of 'Peter and the wolf' and, as expected, the whirring sounded from inside the vase. He plucked the vase from its spot and peered inside. Then he dropped it onto the floor, causing it to shatter into dozens of pieces. He pulled his glasses out from his soaked pocket and put them on, only to discover the lenses smeared. He tried to clean them on his suit, but the wetness hindered his efforts. With a frown, he put them back in his pocket and picked up the black tape recorder that had been sitting inside the vase.

It was nothing special, only a shoddy cassette recorder. It was a wonder there was actually one still working on this planet. He flipped it over and was delighted at what he saw.

'A Version 7 Sound Catcher!' He beamed at the small silver disc attached to the bottom. He plucked it off and put the tape recorder aside. 'Oh I haven't seen one of these for years!' He turned it over in his hands, still beaming. They were designed to latch on to a certain speech pattern and record only that. A recording system that didn't catch any outside sound that could drown out what the person was saying. While he was examining the piece of equipment, now sitting cross-legged on the floor, a whine of feedback suddenly sounded. He looked up in surprise and noticed a speaker in the corner.

'Well done, hero,' a mildly annoyed voice grumbled through it. 'That vase had stood there relatively undisturbed for nearly three decades until you came along.'

The Doctor stood up, dropping the disc in his pocket and looked around. 'I'm sorry about that,' he replied, unsure if he could be heard now that he destroyed the equipment. 'But I'm not a big fan of being recorded. I have a habit of saying things I regret you see, and other things that I'd rather some people not here. At some point I'd probably mention something about how I hate it when Ashley clips her fingernails in the console room without a bin or anything, and really I wouldn't want her to hear that because it would embarrass her. If I was being recorded you see, she might hear it at some point and then there'd be red faces all around, wouldn't there…' The Doctor paused and frowned slightly. 'Hang on… hero?'

'Lay your weapon down in the middle of the table please and stand against the back wall.' The voice ordered.

The Doctor looked puzzled. 'Weapon? I think it's pretty obvious from my skin-hugging suit that I'm not carrying around any weapons.' He paused. 'Oh, you mean my sonic screwdriver!' He reached in his pocket and pulled it out, pressing the button twice. 'It's not a weapon! It's harmless really. Nothing more than a penlight. Well, when I say nothing more than a penlight I obviously mean it's a lot more than a penlight. But that's not the important thing, is it? And because it's harmless I'd quite like to keep it in my pocket, thank you very much.'

'Lay your weapon down in the middle of the table please and stand against the back wall,' the voice repeated in exasperation. 'Or I'll send a Troll in to do if for you.'

The Doctor mulled over the idea of being man handed by another Troll and didn't like the idea at all. He tossed the screwdriver up and caught it again. 'I will get it back again, won't I? Because I really like this screwdriver.'

'Yeah yeah, sure.' The voice replied uninterestedly. 'Just get on with it will you?'

The Doctor looked at the screwdriver sadly, and then put it down in the middle of the table. He gave it one lingering look, before moving to the back wall and leaning against it with his hands behind his back. 'No chance I could get a towel or something, is there? Or a hairdryer?'

The voice didn't speak again. Instead there were approaching footsteps on the other side of the heavy wooden door. The Doctor waited and listened. He estimated that there must be about four Trolls, or at least four very big men, and a lighter footed person. Maybe a woman. There were clicks and clunks as the door was unlocked. The Doctor waited, not allowing his anticipation to show and kept smiling casually. The door opened finally and four Trolls marched inside, standing in a line.

'Well hello there!' the Doctor beamed. 'Well don't you lot look all smart standing in a row like that.'

The Trolls seemed unresponsive. The two in the middle stepped aside and the Doctor's smile faltered as the fifth, lighter footed person stepped out from between them.

The fifth person, who was obviously the one in charge and probably the one behind whatever was going on here, stood at no more than three foot five. He had an eye patch over one beady yellow eye, and the other was narrowed at the Doctor. He stood hunched, one gnarled hand cupped over the top of a walking stick. He grimaced, causing his thick grey beard to twist with the expression.

'So, hero,' the small man croaked. 'How confident do you feel now?'

The Doctor blinked, and then laughed uncontrollably. He doubled over, eyes watering. He was laughing so hard he didn't hear the small man order the Trolls to shut him up.