Doctor Who Interlude

1.1 The Door Closes

…9th Doctor episode 1 (Rose), at the end of the episode Rose initially refuses to go with the Doctor who then closes the door of the TARDIS which disappears, returning a moment later, but we all know, that moment for Rose could be a whole new adventure for the Doctor, which is my proposal in this story (stories, if anyone enjoys this), hope you like it…

Prologue

The Doctor closed the door, cursed in ancient Galifrayan as he made his way back to the console then finally slammed the lever, setting in motion the space and time machine known as the TARDIS. His hand remained on the unfamiliar controls as he paused to reintegrate himself with these new surroundings, as well as, if he was honest, to steady himself from a sudden overwhelming wave of nausea and dizziness.

If only that stupid girl had come with him, what was her name, Poppy? No, but it was some sort of flower, he was certain, well, relatively certain. The Doctor's knees suddenly gave way, before he could take any preventative measures he was falling, the floor of his precious ship slamming unceremoniously into them and sending a jarring bone shaking pain through his body.

He cast his mind back, back through the ages, through other minds to the last time he'd been without a friend during his regeneration. It had been a forced regeneration, followed by an exile, so perhaps this wasn't too bad. He was kind of alone the last time (well, the last time that counted), in New York, but then there had been that Doctor, no, that wasn't right, he was the Doctor, wasn't he?

The Doctor suddenly laughed, loud, maniacal almost, as he thought of the Brigadier's face as the stoic military man realised the white haired dandy was exactly the same man he'd known to be at least a head shorter with a Beatles mop of black hair. The laughter became a racking fit of sobbing. Those had been the good times, the best, and he hadn't even known it. How...how human. At least his home had still been there, oh how he'd wished he could get away from it, in the end, it had got away from him.

The sobbing subsided eventually, the Doctor wiped his eyes on the back of his black, worn leather jacket and reopened them, an intensity burning within. He remembered his secret, the last truly good and innocent memory he had, they weren't all dead, but to him, they must be. He was so old now, and so dangerous to be around. Perhaps Chrysanthemum had been right not to come with him, oh damn it, what was that blasted girls name and why couldn't he stop thinking of her.

Oh, how he needed someone right now. He hated solitude, though ultimately, how could it be any other way. If only that girl, Pansy? Oh, what was her name!? If only she'd come with him. Even just for a little while, just to get over this regeneration. She'd had the fire, so like...

The Doctors' head began to swim, his grip on reality wavering, then it all became too much. He slumped forward and the madness that was the process of change for a Time Lord took hold. He'd staved off the effects for a short while, running on his people's version of adrenaline to deal with the Nestene, but now he was lost to it. His ship became a mental, telepathic cocoon, but his whole body and mind needed to rest, recuperate from the exhausting effects of total cellular regeneration.

And who knows, the Doctor reflected as consciousness began to elude him, maybe if rested a little his ears would shrink a bit. Maybe…

Chapter One

When the Doctor regained consciousness he was on the floor of the recently remodelled wardrobe room, naked but for a long scarf and a gaudily coloured frock coat, buried beneath a pile of furs. His head pounded, a sure sign he was still in the throes of the post regeneration adjustment phase.

His own clothes, or at least those he'd come to think of as his own, were strewn across the floor in a haphazard manner. Gingerly he got to his feet, absently pondering a while over a brown pinstripe suit, "um," he grimaced, "not with these ears, maybe next time."

He gathered up his own clothes, deciding they suited him well enough for the moment, plain, perhaps even drab. But that fitted this face, though he did miss overdressing, especially his wild Bill Hickock frock coat and cravat, not to mention the multicoloured coat and frills.

"Um, not exactly one of my more noteworthy aspects."

"What…, how…?" the Doctor stammered as he turned to face the mouse brown, curled mop topped head of a man with a most feline face, draped in a purple cloak covering the multicoloured coat he had only just discarded.

"Oh don't panic," his previous incarnation, sixth if his memory served, told him, "its just the old girls way of helping me out, though I'm not sure you'd have appreciated this kind of help when I was you," his feline brow creased as he mused that point.

"They're all gone," the Doctor blurted, pulling on the worn leather jacket, "they burned, they all burned, it's all gone."

"Was there anything I could have done?" the former incarnation inquired gently.

"Maybe," the Doctor admitted, "maybe one of my other…"

"I don't mean me, I mean me!" the gaudily dressed version told him, "it wouldn't have mattered which one of us had been there, you know that."

"No. I tried, I tried everything, but…" the Doctor looked into the eyes of his most demanding incarnation, the one who had blustered through the universe earning the title "the oncoming storm" from the Daleks' and several less complimentary titles from a hundred other maniacal races, his response to being the most insecure of all, never really having recovered from a shaky start after his most harrowing regeneration.

The sixth incarnation strolled to where the scarf and fur coats had been abandoned, "so you're not going back, you've got over that part, what about going back and asking that girl again, she wouldn't be the first who'd started out reluctantly."

"Tegan!"

They both exploded simultaneously, a grin spreading across the faces of the Time Lord, "Ian and Barbara too," the Doctor added, a sad laugh chortling out of his throat as a tear rolled down his cheek.

"Harry, Peri," the other one added, "and don't forget those who were a little sceptical, Steven, Ben and Polly, Fitz and of course Turlough, he'd been far from dubious. We won them all over didn't I. You saw the glint in her eye."

"Yeh, well, maybe," the Doctor replied, a grimace in place as he lightly brushed his hand across a rather extravagant, frilled red shirt.

"So, what am I going to do?"

"Oh, I dunno'," the Doctor's face became a broad, dopey grin, accentuating the slightly obtrude ears, transforming his face from dark and brooding to childishly cheerful, only his eyes belying a deep, lingering sadness, "but It'll be fun."

The mop haired former incarnation smiled reassuringly back as his body dissipated, fading gently away. The Doctor took a deep breath, caught sight of his face in a nearby full length mirror and once again found his gaze wandering to those ears. He tried to wiggle them in the best Stan Laurel fashion and failed miserably. With a slightly deflated shake of his head he gave up and left the wardrobe room, stroking the pinstripe suit fondly as he passed, aware he would likely not return to this room until the next regeneration.

After too many years travelling, too many even to admit to anymore, the TARDIS finally looked like a sentient, living machine. More centuries than he cared to think about had passed, but now he felt ready to embrace his heritage. He was a Time Lord, Galifrayan, not human, no matter how much a part of him desired it, he would never, could never, lead that life. After all he'd seen and done, after the war had cost him the very essence he'd spent eight lifetimes trying to ignore, finally he felt able to embrace his legacy. But now he was ready to stop running there was nowhere left to run from.

His gaze alighted upon the soothing, rhythmic motion of the central column, presently depicted as two separate segments, one rising and falling from above, another doing likewise from the centre of the relatively circular/hexagonal control console. The green tinged, illuminated cylindrical sections, not unlike the stalactite and stalagmite formations found in many of the deep caves upon his favourite planet, meeting and parting in perfect harmony with the melodious grating of the TARDIS ancient engines.

The cessation of the great time and space engine brought a little clarity and curiosity to the Doctor's unfocused mind. With just a brief check of the instruments he made his way, rather less than enthusiastically, to the door. Apathetically he stepped outside, immediately finding himself both weightless and unable to breathe, his ennui instantly transformed to a state of panic.

It only took a second for the Doctor to realise he was underwater, unfortunately it had only taken a second for him to float far enough away from the TARDIS to make it impossible to duck back inside. Eyes stinging from the alien water the Doctor located his beloved ship and struck out for the doors. Flailing a little he missed the handle, his body weight crashing into the hard, wooden surface. What happened next was just typical of his luck.

The TARDIS had obviously materialised upon a rather unstable shelf beneath the water's surface. The weight of the Doctor's body just enough to unbalance the police box causing it to topple in comedic slow motion off the shelf and drift a little way deeper beneath the alien water level. The Doctor, his lungs screaming for air, kicked off in pursuit, however, to his horror the spinning box came to a gentle stop, doors face down on the surface. He pushed and pulled but the exertion was overwhelming and finally the Doctor knew he would not be able to right his precious TARDIS.

Instinct took over, legs and arms pumping furiously, hopefully in the direction of the surface, uncertain due to the sand storm billowing around hom from the TARDIS' disruptive fall. The abstract consideration that a leather jacket wasn't the best choice for a swimming costume invaded his agitated mind and proved that the strangest thoughts occurred whenever he faced mortal danger.

As he broke the surface, the crisp bite of frosted air was most welcome, not to mention essential by that stage. The Doctor gasped in a great lung full, treading water as he recovered his strength and took in his environment, grateful it hadn't been the middle of the Pacific. He found he was in a lake, not far from shore though the water itself stretched on infinitely in every other direction. The shore was picturesque, great pines touching the sky from where a sharp chill descended. It could have been Canada or northern Europe, but for the taste in the air, definitely not Earth.

The Doctor dragged himself onto the shore and sat a while panting, the brief swim really taking its toll on his all too recently rejuvenated cells. This kind of exertion was not usually enough to tire him to this degree, but following so recent a regeneration, any kind of exercise was a bad idea.

With a moment to relax the Doctor drank in the scenery. He had to admit, this place was easily the equal of the eye of tranquillity, it would make an idyllic setting for his recovery. But he had no idea where he was, an occurrence primed to pique his curiosity and forestall any plans to recuperate. A scream, not too far away judging by the sudden rise of wild birds in the vicinity, shot down even that consideration and the Doctor stood, as ever, preparing for the unknown and relishing the prospect.

Diega La'Corena Du Si Vermillion a cha Brallinio, daughter of the lord of the Emerald Wilds, first daughter of the emerald forest, heir to the throne of the Emerald Wilds, protector of the great Wilds and all therein contained, ran for her bloody life. It was without doubt not the thing for such a lady to be doing, but under the circumstances, it was by far the best option.

The trees whipped past her face as she ran at full speed. For a young lady that usually wasn't too impressive, but in Diega's case she had been brought up to fight as a man, run as a man, in fact she had until puberty began, as good as been a damn man. But that was a few years ago now and though stood her in good stead, if her assailants hadn't been out of condition and best way to drunk they would have caught her by now.

Of course, that had all been part of the plan. Since her capture at the hands of this failed hedge knight and his band of brigands she'd waited for the perfect opportunity to make good her escape. Her position had made her a target for ransom which left them unable to harm her in any way, something that had almost not been the case on occasions as the brigands had, each in turn, tried their luck either through simple bravado or too much wine. But the hedge knight always brought them back into line.

Then her chance had finally presented itself. This evening, as the sun had begun its lazy arc toward the lake shore signalling the commencement of twilight, her captors had availed her of the perfect opportunity. Her bonds were poorly tied and even had they been successful she could have freed herself with little greater effort then she used. Yet another advantage of being the only child to a lord who fathered no further heirs for his kingdom.

On this evening, even the hedge knight had found himself tipsy, so early had they begun drinking that afternoon, so strong had been the wine to which they'd happily accepted her advice and extra coin. Her knowledge of local wines left her able to negotiate with a wine merchant for skins of far greater quality than the brigands had been used to, and with far greater vibrancy of taste came a much fortified and potent brew. Itself mainly responsible for their present condition of staggering through the woods behind her.

Yet what she had not accounted for was their determination and the hedge knight's quick thinking and organisation. He had rapidly untethered the horses from the carriage and taken one bareback, pounding through the woods at speed, if a little ungraceful. Behind him came a well spaced line of thugs tracking her steps. It did seem inevitable that between them she would soon be returned to their tender mercy, Diega wondered what possible opportunities may be afforded to cement her freedom.

"Hello!"

The bright, cheery hail came from her left. She halted her run, at a loss as to what to expect. When she picked out the stranger in the most unusual clothes it was safe to say that had not been even on the periphery of her considerations. Her breathing came hard and she fought back the urge to run to his side and beg for aid, though despite her pride, Diega found herself drawn to the stranger and edged warily toward him.

Of course, he could have been anyone, his attire was certainly not that of a knight, though neither was it of a brigand, soldier, farmer, or any other manner of person in the Emerald realm she could think of. The possibility he came from beyond the realm was not unreasonable, though again, his demeanour not to mention his clothes didn't seem to fit anywhere she'd ever heard of.

"Hello," Diega responded tentatively, all too aware of the sound of her rapidly encroaching pursuers.

"I'm the Doctor," the stranger told her, though he momentarily seemed confused about even that, "at least, I think I will be, well, I'm sure I will be, soon enough anyway. I hope."

"I am Diega La'Corena Du Si Vermillion a cha Brallinio, daughter of the lord of the Emerald Wilds, first daughter of the emerald forest, heir to the throne of the Emerald Wilds, protector of the great Wilds and all therein," despite the proximity of those who would do her considerable harm, it would have been unthinkable for her not to have provided her full title, "and I would have your service, be it mine to buy."

"Oh, well, erm, I mean, well…" the Doctor seemed to stumble over a response she hoped would not be too negative, "it's not that I don't think your very important, I mean with a name like that I'm sure you're loaded, but I just…"

The thunderous sound of horse's hooves interrupted the Doctor's explanation and brought the hedge knight into their path, seemingly from nowhere. The horse stamped and pranced around the two, Diega felt her heart in her mouth until she peered at the Doctor who seemed mildly amused. The hedge knight deliberately led the beast close to the Doctor, obviously looking to intimidate the stranger. It didn't quite work out.

"Hello, I'm the Doctor," the stranger announced himself again, for some bizarre reason Diega got the sense he was speaking equally to the horse and master, and even more incredibly the horse calmed dramatically, nuzzling the Doctor affectionately as he produced some kind of treat from his pocket.

"You, sir, are in my way," the hedge knight advised, though the man's obvious impression on the horse had unsettled him, "and I care not what manner of conjurer you may be, steel will…"

What happened next was little more than a blur for Diega. The hedge knight drew his sword as a sign of authority, it was an immense mistake. The knight drew with his right arm from the sheath on his left hip. As he did so the Doctor tipped him from his left leg, only slightly, but with the impetus of his bringing out the sword combined with riding bare back, the knight was unbalanced and thrown off the horse.

"I'm so sorry," the Doctor apologised as the horse moved from between them, but the knight was not in the least interested in apologies and stood, sword in hand.

"Now hang on," the Doctor told the hedge knight, "I'm trying to say sorry, it was just a reaction, I get nervous whenever someone pulls a weapon on me."

"You don't understand what you have got into here," the hedge knight replied and immediately swung his sword.

The Doctor side stepped and ducked back as the blade sliced the air where his chest had been. The knight recovered quickly and thrust forward, this time the stranger spun around and left himself right by the shoulder of the hedge knight, though instead of making a riposte he simply turned to Diega, "well, it looks like I've still got the moves, wonder if I can dance as well."

His comments caught the hedge knight completely by surprise. He fell back from the Doctor and turned with even greater angst, "Sir, you mock me?"

"What, no," the Doctor looked genuinely hurt, "I wouldn't do that, at least I don't think I would. Then again, I know I've been a bit…"

The thrust of the sword silenced the Doctor. Yet again he dived to the side, but the hedge knight was expecting that and the thrust turned into a swipe fluidly. However, it seemed the Doctor had also pre-empted his opponent's next move. He drew in his stomach in an almost comical fashion and the swipe missed by a whisker. But this was the last chance the hedge knight had to vanquish his opponent as Diega hit him in the side of the head with a large log.

"What was that for," the Doctor rounded on her with shock and amazement.

"He was my captor up until a few moments ago," she explained, "I was hoping you'd rescue me!"

"Oh, right, well in that case," the dopey grin she'd witnessed on the first meeting returned and the Doctor jumped on the back of the horse, "come on then."

Diega couldn't help but grin back. She took the strangers hand as he swung her up behind him. She grabbed his waist as the Doctor put his hands on the animals neck and they set off at a gallop. She couldn't really figure out why, but she suddenly felt completely safe and in grave danger all at the same time. Exhilarating was the only description.

Sir Tamarind Grey watched the altercation between the stranger who had only recently crawled from the lake and the soldier who appeared to have been chasing the young woman. He was intrigued, confused even, regarding the stranger's emergence from the water. It seemed as if he came up from directly beneath, fully clothed, and appeared to be as confused about how he got there as Sir Tamarind was.

The young lady was evidently the vagabond soldier's plaything, something to do on cold nights. Of course, she seemed to have a spirit and was well dressed for a common wench. Whatever it was, these events were most interesting. Sir Tamarind felt quite invigorated by such a mystery and doubtless there would be something interesting at the end of it. After all, men emerging from beneath the surface of a lake having not entered it from above were a most infrequent occurrence.

"Ha!"

Sir Tamarind dug into the horses flank and spurred him on to a fast trot. The noise of the fleeing horse, not to mention the trail of destruction left in their wake made the pair easy to follow, he need certainly not concern himself with keeping them in sight for fear of losing them. However, the speed with which the stranger adjusted to riding bareback suggested an excellent horseman, so he was aware he may need to put a spurt on should the trail fall silent, or the destruction subside.

But for now, he was satisfied with his distance. It also kept him from revealing his presence to them without too much hardship, which in turn provided some retrospective grace. Much needed as Sir Tamarind struggled greatly with these events. His every instinct told him this man was trouble, yet his most base instinct, the one he followed all his life, told him there was coin to be found here, and much of it.

The trees came thick and fast, and as he had feared, it become less possible to track the stranger. Fortunately, the sound was not muffled. The foliage was so pressing here it was becoming claustrophobic, above him the interlacing canopy of leaves blotted out any signs of sunlight, though what filtered through to the ground spoke eloquently of the early evening stages.

His horse trotted pleasantly on until he found himself gaining on the sounds of the stranger and his consort, a leisurely gait then became the order, much more his choice considering the days end nearing. Sir Tamarind wondered about the strangers intentions toward the young woman. He undoubtedly rescued her from a fate for which she would not wish to simply exchange a gentler manner or more appealing face.

His clothes were also a mystery. Breeches that seemed too tight, boots that spoke of the finest craftsmanship and a jacket that was made of animal hide, but in such a fashion he had never before laid eyes upon, and Sir Tamarind had travelled through several of the realms. Even dripping wet the clothes spoke of fortune and possibly fame. So perhaps not just coin from the stranger, but a ransom could be assuaged in this endeavour.

Even at a trot now the voices grew steadily louder and the hedge knight realised his prey were at their rest. He left his horse tethered to a tree and crept silently on. His many years alone had taught him stealth was his greatest ally, so not a footfall was heard as he finally reached a suitable location from which to watch and listen to the two.

From behind a solid thicket, thankfully not too prickly, he studied them intently. Now stopped and dismounted they appeared to be taking stock of their situation. He crawled a little further on his belly, narrowly avoiding a wood snake which slithered effortlessly out of his way up the nearest tree. Settling himself into a comfortable position the hedge knight gave his prey his fullest attention. What secrets they had would soon be his, then just determining how best to profit from them would be his only trouble.

"That was amazing!"

Diega was exhausted from the bumpy ride, but her exhilaration bred the adrenaline she needed to cope with her current predicament. Of course, this stranger may soon realise he had a potential fortune within his grasp, at that point his charm may be replaced with something much less benevolent.

"Oh, thanks," the Doctor replied, a tone combining surprise and humility, "it wasn't really that good, you should see me when I've finished cooking."

His strange comments didn't preclude his sanity, though they did suggest a reason for uncommon behaviour. He certainly wasn't a fool, so perhaps a knock to the head, that could explain why his clothes were damp as well as his unfathomable conversation.

"Well, whatever your appraisal of my rescue it was certainly worthy of my fathers recompense," she stated, hoping he would find his valour and pay more import to her safe return rather than attempt to profit from a ransom demand.

"Oh, that's alright," she waited for him to announce his intentions.

"So…" Diega prompted when he fell silent.

"So… what," the Doctor's head inclined slightly, the dopy grin still in place reminding her of a favourite dog she'd had as a child.

"So… what do you intend to do with me?"

"What do you mean," the smile was altering slightly to one of mild confusion.

"I take it you know who I am?"

"Yup!" the grin returned in force, "Lady Diega a la… erm…" the grin fell slightly as he stumbled, "de la, erm, Maradonna? No, wait, that was Diego. Nice chap, couldn't kick a ball straight when I met him though, had to show him how to pass…"

"What do you intend to do with me?"

The Doctor looked blankly at her again. She began to wonder if he was toying with her or if he had perhaps suffered greatly from some illness or a fall from a horse. She suddenly felt extremely exposed as they stood in the middle of a thick carpet of woodland, green blue everywhere, shielded by trees and thickets all around. Diega had no idea where she was and the horse, so casually discarded by the Doctor and left to wander to its own devices, was their only way back to civilisation before night really set in.

"I'm sorry," the Doctor told her, "I really don't intend doing anything with you, is there something you'd like me to do with you."

From anyone else that comment may have seemed provocative, had the Doctor managed to make it provocative, Diega found herself wondering if she would be happy to take him up on that. But it wasn't, so she couldn't. But it also meant he really had no intentions for her. That actually left her feeling a little lost.

"So, erm," she searched for an appropriate question, one that may provide some insight into this Doctors bizarre behaviour, "where are you from."

That provoked a reaction she had not expected. His face became dark, brooding, and for the first time since they'd met, Diega felt a little scared. There was a deep power within those cold eyes. Then suddenly, as quickly as that empty gaze had appeared it vanished, replaced once more by that dopy grin. It was almost as if he were practicing that grin on her.

"Oh, here and there."

"Then where were you going?"

"Ah, well," suddenly the Doctor seemed caught off guard, his eyes twinkled for a moment, then he grimaced and admitted, "actually, I'm lost. My, er, transportation crashed into the lake and now I'm stuck here until I can find a way to get it out."

"Oh," Diega found her answers in that statement, "was it a large carriage?"

"Not really," the Doctor replied, "well, not on the outside at least, but it is at the bottom of the lake. I think I can find it, but I need something to get it out, I don't suppose there'll be a crane around here anywhere?"

Diega wasn't certain what a bird could do, but the Doctor wasn't quite himself at the moment, that much was evident, though at least now she had a reasonable explanation for his current condition. But that didn't alter their circumstances. Night was approaching fast, and these woods were no easy place to navigate in the dark, even discounting the menacing wildlife.

"We need to get to a town," she told him, "it's going to be night soon, not a good place to be then. Do you have any coin, I'm not certain my fathers name will carry any weight in some of the places we may get to."

"Sorry," the Doctor looked like a naughty child, caught playing in the mud with his best clothes on, "now if I'd got my, er, carriage, there's plenty in there, at least there'd be something we could use for, erm, coin?"

"Well, never mind," Diega told him, retrieving the horse from where it had gone to munch on some leaves, "let's get going anyway."

His dopy grin returned and Diega couldn't help wondering, in the end, who was rescuing who.

Tamarind rolled onto his back in the short grass, stifling the laughter he was desperate to release. He would not have believed what he'd just witnessed had it come from another mans lips. Certainly, he would not be able to repeat most of what the strange man had said, even if he had understood it.

Darkness was encroaching with predatory swiftness, and the hedge knight was not ignorant to the dangers lurking in the forest at night. It wouldn't be a blade or arrowhead that may bring a premature end to his life if he remained here much longer. Fear, however, was supplanted rapidly with the intensity of greed exciting his senses, his heart racing at the prospect of the riches the stranger spoke of.

Sounds of the two he'd followed retrieving their steed and continuing with their journey left him feeling quite alone. The hoot of an owl hauntingly melodramatic emphasised his earlier point. With a little more urgency than his greed had previously allowed, Tamarind turned to retrieve his faithful steed. For a heartbeat he thought the beast had got loose and left him stranded, but he found it only a short distance away.

As the hedge knight urged his horse into a trot, he was under no illusion that it was the prospect of seeking a fortune, rather than his solitude amidst this obsidian clothed forest of potential nightmares that spurred him on. Tamarind had not the skill or ability of most average knights, indeed most well-trained soldiers could have bested him, yet his ambition was second to none, his hunger for power, his unquenchable desire for wealth, a poor, somewhat dangerous combination.

The horse was a little reluctant to leave the flavoursome thistle it was enjoying, Tamarind, however, was beginning to feel intimidated by the increasing level of nocturnal caterwauling and decided it was time to beat a hasty retreat. Guiding the horse back along its own trail, the hedge knight kept a wary eye out for anything that may be a threat, the blanket of coal that enveloped him as sharply as a skilled knights thrust arrived with a greater cacophony of predatory clamouring. As the horse picked its way through the forest Tamarind mulled the fate of the stranger and the attractive young woman. By all accounts she would fetch a handsome ransom, as for the strange man, he would have to die.

A loud screech from the trees above sent a chill down his spine and brought a nervous whine from his steed. It also left him wondering if he would need to do anything about the stranger, perhaps the forest would do the job for him. A pair of bright white eyes gazed at him from the bough of a tree to his left. Tamarind dug his heels in and the horse was all too happy to quicken its pace.

Branches and leaves whipped at his face and chest as he moved with greater alacrity through the forest. Ahead, finally, was a spot he recognised, the lake was not far now. The stinging lacerations were easily ignored as snapping branches and heavy panting signalled a pursuer. From the sounds of things, a large one.

With great relief Tamarind broke through the final ring of trees onto the lakes edge. He took his steed away from the trees, as close to the water as he dared considering the blackness engulfing him. Behind, the rustling and snorting faded, clearly the beast, whatever it was, felt exposing itself so close to the waters edge was a risk unworthy of its prey.

Just as the horse was beginning to settle, an arrow embedded itself in the ground at the creatures left foreleg. Tamarind shot a look in all directions, but the night was concealing this new threat all too effectively. He was not left wondering too long. As he regained control of his horse a group of men spewed forth from the slighter vegetation close to the waters edge where the bushes fringed the forest tree line.

There were three to his left, two behind him, two on his right and one directly before him. Tamarind had sword in hand, but it was clear to see it would do him little good as each of the men were aiming their bows in his direction, two of them held crossbows capable of driving an arrow deep into his horses chest making escape an unlikely possibility.

The hedge knight took in the situation quickly, noticing that the discipline and organisation suggested these men were, or had been, soldiers. Tamarind was willing to bet a good amount of coin that these were the men bested by the stranger and robbed of their prize. A dangerous group, but men he could use, if he could only get their attention. He could only hope the creature following him may have lingered and be waiting for an opportunity to pounce, possibly affording him a most necessary distraction.

"A little late for fishi…"

Before the man ahead of him could finish his sentence, Tamarinds rescuer put in a most timely appearance. The hedge knight was relieved the beast hadn't caught him though, sickened by the way it sank salivating giant jaws filled with teeth as sharp as daggers into the leg of the man. The scream from the unfortunate soldier was blood curdling, his closest comrade fell sideways in an effort to get away.

"What the…"

Each of the men still on their feet turned their bows toward the beast and loosed their arrows. The shadows and cloying thickets prevented Tamarind gaining a clear view of the beast but the glimpse he did get suggested the beast was a forest cat, one of the most dangerous predators in all of the realms, the abilities of a cat at almost the size of a bear. Its thick hide took the arrows as he would take the needles of a healer's skin potions.

The men were reloading, of course it was already too late. The unfortunate man who had fallen prey to this immense beast was no longer whimpering, only the occasional gurgling on his own blood gave any indication that he was still alive. As the creature paused in its mutilation, raising its hellish, feline face now coated in the slick dark viscous fluid that moments ago had meant life to its prey, Tamarind could see most of the mans innards spilled upon the ground by his side.

With the creature now facing off against the soldiers the men were confused and terrified, reluctant to move. Tamarind was certain, should they continue a menacing approach the beast would most likely beat a hasty retreat with its prey. However, faced with the sight of their fallen comrade and a growing loss of cohesion the forest cat seemed to gain confidence, standing its ground, weighing up its chances of possibly scoring a desert.

Bows began to quiver, one of the two were unable to reload their crossbows, hands shaking so badly. He glanced at his comrades, eyes wide, Tamarind looked at the beast and realised it was fixed upon the petrified soldier. Two of the men loosed arrows but it was too late, the beast was already on the move. Only one arrow found its mark, the horrified soldier targeted dropped his crossbow and sprinted for the water, a sensible move even though he clearly wouldn't make it.

Tamarind dug his heels into his mount and set it charging. He followed the forest cat, so focused on its prey it paid no attention to the galloping horse.

"Get down!" the hedge knight yelled, and had the fleeing soldier heeded those words his injuries may have been far less, as it was, he ignored the advice to his peril.

The hulking beast pounced while the soldier was still a distance from the water. Claws raked his back, evoking a primal scream, muffled a heartbeat later as enormous jaws clamped down on a shoulder, coming away with a mouthful of flesh.

With his greatest effort, the hedge knight swung his sword at the back of the forest cats head as it raised up to address the new threat it finally deemed worthy of its attention. The horse, well trained in such events, kept up its momentum as it passed the beast. When the horse finally came about Tamarind watched the ferocious wildcat stumble slightly, it almost appeared drunk. Its giant head flicked from side to side as if it were batting at a wasp.

When it finally fell on its side the other soldiers rushed to their fallen comrades aid. Tamarind lazily meandered back to the group, two helping the badly wounded man while the remaining four were making certain the forest cat wouldn't make a recovery.

"I take it this is your Captain," Tamarind surmised as he dismounted and crossed to join them, noticing the horrendous injuries the other men were trying to deal with.

"Yes," a rather more than averagely grubby member of the group told him, peering up from beside his fallen leader.

"Well, it would appear you will be in need of a new one."

That said, Tamarind lifted his sword, still dripping with the blood of the forest cat and brought it down, piercing the fallen soldiers skull.

Thank you soooooo much for reading this far, I truly hope you enjoyed my humble offering of an interlude series for a Doctor whose screen time was far too short, in the event even one person enjoys this story I will of course edit and upload the rest and perhaps our 9th Doctor will begin a whole new series of adventures before returning to take Rose on their journeys, so once again many thanks for reading and I would love to hear your thoughts (good or bad), cheers

srwedlin for feedback,

Thank You!