AN: Chapter 1 has changed slightly – chapter 2 won't make sense unless one re-reads most of it. Thanks for your time, and thanks for the reviews, you lovely people! A programme of hints re the Harpers' names is in progress.

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Chapter 2

'Truck meet watermelon?'

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The Harper focused on them briefly with his strange green eyes. Then his head lolled backwards and he fainted. Rose swallowed awkwardly at the impossible angle of one of his long legs as he fell. The Doctor strode to the Ellion's side and turned him over gently. 'He's still alive.'

Rose followed. 'That leg…'

The Doctor followed her gaze. '…is broken, in two no, three places by the looks of it. He must have fallen from a heck of a height to do that; the shinbone has-'

'Don't!'

The Doctor shot her a look. 'Come on, Squeamish. Help me get him inside.' He lifted the prone alien as though he were a toy, motioning with his head for Rose to open the TARDIS door.

He laid the Harper on the pallet in the medical lab and carefully examined the damaged leg. 'I should be able to fix this.'

'Is there anything you can't fix?'

'Broken hearts.'

'What would you know of broken hearts?' scoffed Rose.

She looked at him when he failed to respond. He was frozen beside a tray of hypodermic needles, his startling blue eyes focused on something inner. 'You'd be surprised,' he said softly. He came to suddenly and crossed the room. 'Get a towel or something and mop him down.'

Rose complied, searching the assorted cabinets until she came across a bundle of white ones. She went to the Ellion and cleared his lank hair from his face.

He was finely featured: his face had a kind of perfect symmetry that made it beautiful to look at. A sheen of sweat covered his high forehead, and his lips were skewed in a grimace of pain. Rose noted without alarm that he had six fingers on both hands, all the same length but for the thumb.

The Doctor had, with medical efficiency, gathered bandages and swabs, and was carefully rolling back the Harper's trouser leg. Rose twisted her head, feeling nausea ball in her stomach. The Doctor manipulated one end of the protruding shinbone back into place, wrapping the break securely in a splint.

Abruptly, the Harper jerked awake, a stream of fluid syllables flying from his mouth. It must be a dead language, thought Rose; else the TARDIS would have translated. She pressed her hands to his temples. 'Woah, lie down.'

His eyes rolled up to stare at her. 'Who are you?' The closet accent match the TARDIS could find was Irish.

'My name's Rose. Keep still; it's all right, you've just… broken your leg.'

'That's not the only thing that broke.' He wriggled weakly, his eyes falling half closed, speaking in bursts. 'The harps broke… They all broke… I felt them!'

'Rose is right,' said the Doctor irritably, looking over the second break. 'Keep still or this'll never heal properly. Tell us about it afterwards.'

The Harper opened his mouth to say more, but the breath came out as a gasp of agony. 'You're hurting him!' protested Rose.

The Doctor found a syringe after a moment's search. 'Harper, do you react adversely to sodium thiopental? A local anaesthetic,' he translated, seeing Rose's puzzled look. The Harper shook his head, his chest heaving. The Doctor gave him the injection, and almost immediately, his features relaxed. The Doctor began setting the second break.

Rose continued bathing his head. 'What's your name?' she asked.

'Arolan.'

She almost commented that it was a pretty name, but stopped herself. She had no idea of whether it would be a complement or not, and decided to withhold her judgement. Images from hospital dramas appeared in her head, and she decided it would be a good idea to keep talking to him. 'What do you mean, the harps broke?'

He looked up lucidly, staring into her eyes. 'The strings snapped. They were lucky; much more should have gone.'

'You mean, like the harps themselves?'

'The entire planet.'

A now-familiar shiver flew up Rose's spine and curdled in her stomach. At one point, when she had first started Travelling, she would have recognised it as fear. As it was, she turned her attention away from it. Arolan twitched as the Doctor tightened the second splint. 'One more.'

'Who's "they"?' Rose folded her towel and placed it on the cabinet top.

Arolan closed his eyes wearily. 'The Lords and Ladies.'

'And they're what, harpers like you?'

'Yes.' Arolan touched the finger and thumb of one hand to his eyelids tiredly, then propped himself up on an elbow. He glanced at the sleeves of his pale blue coat. 'I'm at the second highest level. I should have been with them. When they find I'm still alive, I will be killed.'

'Then we'll make sure they won't find you, right Doctor?'

'Hmm…' With another tug, the binding was finished. The Doctor cleared the surplus bandages and came to the head of the pallet. 'When the anaesthetic wears off, that will hurt,' he warned.

'If I wasn't so tired I could heal myself properly,' said Arolan, sitting up fully and running his long fingers over the splints. 'But thank you anyway. This will do'

Rose shot the Doctor a glance, hearing the note of petulant arrogance in the Harper's tone. Arolan swung his legs over the side of the pallet. He kicked his good leg absently in the short silence that followed. 'They must be stopped.'

'What exactly do they want to do?' asked the Doctor.

'The highest Lady's daughter wants to play the universe, just to find out if she can. The others agree to support her, for if she succeeds, we can raise our prices.'

'Prices?' echoed Rose uncertainly.

'The Harpers manipulate the Strings,' began the Doctor, but he was rudely interrupted.

'We can do anything. If the rich need something doing, they get a Harper. We tame horses, create forests and jungles, bring down the rain, even charm armies with our music.' The Doctor folded his arms, and Rose dared to think he might be sulking. 'If they succeed in playing the universal string, we can expand our influence. But it's not as simple as they think it is.'

'Didn't think it could be,' murmured Rose.

The Doctor leapt in. 'Superstrings distort the space around them. Messing with that distortion, changing the vibration, could be fatal.'

Rose raised her hands. 'Hang on… Put that in normal language.'

'Truck meet watermelon?' tried the Doctor.

Rose blinked. 'Not good.'

The Doctor shook his head, smiling ironically. 'No. Not good at all.' He turned to the Harper. 'Where are the Lords and Ladies?'

'What's your interest in this?' Arolan shot back accusingly. 'Who are you?'

Rose noticed the Doctor's shoulders tense as he filtered the less painful memories through. 'Just a traveller,' he said after a pause. 'Call me Doctor.'

'What's your interest in the Strings?'

The Doctor's eyes flared angrily. 'I deal with Time, Harper. If your lot start messing with the dimensions, if warping or vibrating occurs in the timelines, the consequences will be dire. It's perfectly possible that the universe could come apart at the seams, do you understand?'

Resentment flicked between them: two experts in conflict. Rose suspected the Doctor had the upper hand intelligence-wise, but Arolan's haughtiness made him testy, clouding his knowledge.

Arolan looked away first and stood carefully on his good leg. 'All right. If you want me to help you, I'll need my harp back.'

'Where is it?'

Arolan's eyes fluttered closed as he concentrated. The Doctor shifted impatiently, and Rose thought he was being a little unfair. The Harper had tried to stop all this happening, after all. 'Underneath the temple. The cellar, where the coats are kept.' He opened his eyes. 'How're you going to get in?' he asked, eying their clothes sardonically.

'We'll be okay, thank you.' The Doctor patted his pocket. Of course, realised Rose. Psychic paper.

They came out again into the dull light. 'Is it okay to leave him in there?' asked Rose worriedly.

'The TARDIS controls are isomorphic – without me in there, she's not going anywhere.'

'So what are we going to be, invited guests?' Rose plunged into the ferns, struggling to match the Doctor's pace.

'Something like that.' They fought their way onward. Rose had the impression he was walking off his anger. 'They should know better,' he muttered after a time. 'Playing the universe… how infantile can you get?'

'Don't say that in front of them. If they're all as proud as Arolan, we'll get fried.'

'Or transformed.' The Doctor's mood lifted a little, and he began to hum quietly. 'If you go down to the woods today, you'd better not go alone…'

Rose gripped his jacket sleeve.

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Hint 1: Ireland.