A/N: Edited. 09/04/14


-1483-

-Tower of London-


Calypso was grateful for the mercifully cool interior of the castle as she went about completing chores. She did her best to keep the cobwebs and dust piles at bay in the long empty halls that overlooked the courtyard. She heard the boy's shouts down below and peered through the window, finding Edward and Richard sparring with wooden swords.

Richard, the younger boy, struggled awkwardly as he swung at Edward, who corrected his stance like a tutor. She was glad to see the boys together, it had been lonely with Edward on his own, since the state had refuted his right to the crown. The whole country seemed to be in upheaval about the change, but Edward seemed happy to ignore it. And they were safe enough from the dangers of politics here inside the tower walls.

She smiled, glad his brother had arrived. She'd been just another faceless worker in the bustling castle a few months before, until she'd come across a little boy, weeping in the stairwell. It had been Edward, more boy than man at thirteen, lonely and afraid in the world. She'd seen her own hardships reflected in him, and made a special effort to seek him out during the day. Distracting him from his misery with her stories. Now she served as both a maid, and the boy's nurse, as no one had thought to provide them with one.

"Oh, you're a sight for sore eyes." The voice caused her to jump, realizing that instead of sweeping, she'd been staring out the window. A tall man had appeared behind her, grinning with a shock of floppy brown hair falling across his forehead. He wore nothing she recognized as court fashion, but they still appeared to be finely tailored fabrics. Dark trousers and a strange brown coat, with a bright red bow at his throat completing the outfit.

"I'm sorry," she realized she was being rude in her shock. "You startled me." She didn't address him properly, because she didn't recognize him as one of the visiting dignitaries.

"Yeah," his grin softened. "I tend to do that. I'm a proper space ninja. Come here," he crossed the distance between them hurriedly and before she thought to protest, his arms were wrapped around her in an embrace.

She thought it might be some sort of cultural difference as far as greetings went, and tried not to argue. Until his hand slid to her waist, and his other trailed up her neck, lifting her chin to meet his gaze. She felt her face flush as she was caught beneath his green eyes that matched the smile on his lips.

She'd heard stories about some of the aristocrats taking liberties with the workers, how it was somehow deemed less demeaning than paying the common prostitutes in the city. Fear rushed through her as she remembered, also, the stories of those who refused such advances. "Oh, I have missed you." He murmured in a tone that she didn't quite expect, nor could she explain.

Then he leaned forward, pressing his warm lips against her own, breathing her in. She froze, afraid of what he might do. But his movements were gentle, and tender. It wasn't at all how she'd imagined the brutality the other maids had described. He deepened the kiss, his tongue probing past her lips as his fingers trailed down her throat where they burned like embers.

She jerked back and slapped him as hard as she dared. Her chest heaved and her thoughts raced. Perhaps if she ran now, she could disappear into the city before the guards were alerted. She ducked past him, ready to ignore the strange sensation of familiarity the man had with her and just run. But her broom had been forgotten on the floor, and it tangled between her legs, abruptly ending her flight.

"Calypso?" His voice was quiet, worried. "Are you alright?"

The question, along with his tone, was perplexing, and she found herself turning to face her attacker. There was no fury in his eyes, despite the blooming red spot on his cheek where she had struck him.

"I'm sorry, sir. But you had no right." She shook her head, frightened tears coming unbidden to her eyes. If he knew her name, she could be found. All she could think of now were her dangling feet at the gallows. Once, that might have been a relief. But not here, and not now.

"No. No, of course not." He agreed as he knelt down, reaching out to help her stand. She scuttled backwards, clumsy movements putting distance between them. He raised his hands to allay her fears. "I'm sorry. I made a mistake."

She couldn't take her eyes off him, fear still coursing through her veins. She didn't know if she believed him, but he made no move to approach her again.

"Calypso," he said again, unnervingly knowing who she was. "Do you know me?" The look in his eyes was earnest, almost pleading.

"Sir, I do not." Her voice warbled, but she fought back her tears. She didn't want this man knowing how frightened he had made her, or how frightened she still was. She clenched her jaw, willing herself to be stronger. "How is it you know of me?"

It looked as though she had struck him again, without moving at all. He smiled, but this time it was a shadow of the emotion he'd shown earlier. "Sorry," he whispered. "Wrong face, I suppose." He seemed to be talking to himself, because Calypso could make no sense of it. "Please don't cry, I can't bear it when you cry. I'm sorry." He tried again. "I didn't mean to frighten you. I thought…" he swallowed, and she felt a twinge of pity for this stranger, who looked as sad and lonely as Edward had when she'd found him huddled away on the stairs. "I thought you were someone else." He finished, clearing his throat. "That was completely out of line, I apologize. Here," he plucked up the broom and offered it as an olive branch to lift her from the ground where she was still sprawled.

She accepted it reluctantly, sniffing quickly, unsure of what to make of the stranger as he put the broom gently against the wall once she stood. "Are…are you going to report me, my lord?" She asked, her eyes focused intently on the floor.

"What?" He seemed appalled at the suggestion. "No. What kind of rubbish is that? Report you? No. Absolutely not." He became quite serious. "Is there someone here who does that? Are you being mistreated?" He searched her face carefully for an answer, a frown furrowing his brow.

"No," she shook her head. Bewildered by his questions, and his seeming concern. He was a very strange man. "I have just heard…stories."

"Yes, well." He straightened his red bow and tugged on his tunic importantly. "You just let me know if any of these 'stories' come to call. I'd like to have a little chat with them."

"Yes, sir." She said quickly. "Is there…something I can help you with?" Perhaps if she made herself useful to him, he would be willing to overlook her offense.

"Well, I- Yes. As a matter of fact." He caught a glimpse of the boys down in the courtyard. "Tutoring, I'm here to do the tutoring. For the princes." He pointed, in case she didn't believe him. "The ones down there."

"Yes, I'm familiar." She nodded. It was one of the strangest encounters in her life, and she had led a very strange life.

"Uncle's very keen on keeping them sharp. And then the banquet later, love a good banquet. Will you be attending?" He asked innocently.

"No, sir." She couldn't help the skeptical look that came to her face. "The staff do not dine in the hall."

"Oh. Right. Staff. Why you've got the broom…thing, I suppose." He frowned. "That's a shame. Well," he clapped his hands together. "The tutoring. I'll just be off, to do. That." He gave a sharp nod, and the smile returned to his face as he winked. "See you around."

She managed to curtsy only after his back had turned, too flustered by the strange events to remember even her basic manners. She stared down the hall until he disappeared from view; his clothing still distractingly odd. She chewed her lip, absently remembering the warmth and strange tenderness she'd felt when the man had kissed her. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves; but it continued to bother her. There was something very odd about it all.

No one had called her Calypso in years. Not since that man with the strange blue box.


She carried a fresh pitcher of water up to the prince's chambers. It was later than she was meant to be in this part of the castle, but Richard had contracted a mild fever that afternoon, and she wanted to be sure he was properly cared for.

He was still growing accustomed to his life in the castle. While his brother certainly made things easier, eight years old was an early age to be separated from ones mother.

She knocked at the door quietly before she entered, Edward had lit several more candles in the room than normal, giving it a welcoming yellowy glow. She suspected it was Richard's nagging fear of the dark that had caused him to do so, and she smiled to think that such a young boy was taking care of his brother.

"Thank you, Callie." Edward greeted her with a smile, certainly not the formal actions of a prince, but neither of them seemed to care for the pomp and pageantry of the nobles. But she wasn't likely to forget that she was not their equals in stature, especially after the incident with the strange man.

"Of course, my lords. How are you feeling?" She asked as she crossed the room to the large four poster bed where Richard lay, swathed in blankets. His blond hair stuck to his damp scalp, but he managed a smile.

"A little better," he swallowed as she placed the pitcher down, feeling his forehead. It was still warmer than she would have liked, but no worse. She soaked a rag with the cool water and placed it across his brow.

"Drink up," she said, pouring some of the water into a mug and handing it to him as she sat on the edge of the bed. "I'm sure it will be better in the morrow." She reassured him.

"Could you tell us a story?" Richard asked. "To help me sleep?" Edward climbed up on the bed, pretending to adjust his brother's pillows, but then he settled himself as well, clearly just as interested in listening.

"I suppose I could," she said with a smile. She hadn't known any of the stories she'd been told as a child, if she had been told any, and so she'd had to make them up. Mostly she made up stories about what her life might have been, but today she remembered a new story. One that wasn't entirely untrue. "Have I ever told you the legend of the blue box?"

"No," Richard's eyes were wide. "What's it about?"

"It's about a great wizard who saved the Sisters of Saint Ada with his blue box."

"A box?" Edward snorted. "Not very impressive for a wizard."

"Oh, but it was impressive." She smiled at the memory of the box; it was like nothing she had ever seen before or since. The feeling of home and belonging when she'd touched it was a powerful memory that never left her thoughts entirely. "It was a magical box. On the outside, it just looked like an ordinary wood box. Only big enough for one person to be tucked inside. But when the wizard opened the door, it was different. There was a whole other world inside that box."

Edward's mouth drooped as he tried to imagine such a thing.

"How?" Richard asked, his voice full of wonder.

"Well, that's easy. It's bigger on the inside." A familiar voice spoke behind her. "Because it's a magic box. Pay attention, Richie."

"Doctor!" Edward cried out with a grin and Calypso looked over her shoulder to face the door. "Callie, this is our tutor. He taught us all about the sun today, and he didn't make it sound all stuffy and boring like my other tutors. He said it's a giant ball of burning gas that's hurtling through the sky. And if I stood on its surface, it'd melt my skin off!"

Calypso couldn't quite help the horrified face she'd made.

"Don't be ridiculous, Eddie. You'd burst into flames well before you made it to the surface." The man wavered slightly under the gaze of Calypso. "Well, I mean. That's not all I taught them. There was the bit about quasars, and galactic lightning, and. Um. Other, general…things." He waved his hand vaguely. The words were confusing in themselves, but her concern was based on the fact that it was the same man who had kissed her before. He was casually leaning in the doorway, smiling warmly at her.

It was equally worrying to hear him referred to as the Doctor. It wasn't possible it was the same Doctor, it just wasn't. At yet, somewhere in her mind, she very nearly thought it could be.

She was frozen in place as he entered the room and shut the door behind him. "Lovely to meet you, Callie." He said with a knowing grin. "I'm the Doctor." She just stared at him, unable to speak. He turned his attention from her and mercifully directed it at the boys. "Richie, my boy. How are you feeling?"

"Better," he said with a smile. "Callie was telling us a story about a wizard who's got a blue box."

"Oh, yes. Let's have that then." The Doctor hopped onto the corner of the bed and settled himself, crossing his hands over his lap.

"I-" She wasn't sure what she could say, or even if she believed the thoughts that were running through her mind. Surely it couldn't be the same man, he looked entirely different. "Are you sure you don't know the tale?" She asked finally.

"Course I do. But I still like to hear you tell it." He grinned, his eyes glittering playfully. Both of the boys sat at attention, waiting for her to continue, so she had little choice.

"Well, there was a convent, a long time ago, not too far from where we sit now. And surrounding that, there was a large empty field. No one who crossed it ever lived to tell the tale, because in the middle, there was a giant hole so deep you could not see the bottom. And one day, the hole spit out a demon." The boys gasped audibly and the Doctor gave his own look of shock. "The demon was just a baby at first, so it fed on rats, and then foxes, and then chickens and goats. Before long, it grew so large that even a whole cow was not enough to sate its growing appetite." Richard pulled the cover up to his chest.

"Oh, good," the Doctor grinned, rubbing his hands together gleefully. "Almost to the part with the wizard. My favorite!"

"Hush!" Edward shushed him, an intent look on his face. The Doctor feigned a sour look, but held his tongue just the same.

"So when there were no more animals in the field for it to feed on, it came to the convent. Each night, the Sisters prayed to be saved, but each night the demon tore at their stone walls, smashed their windows, and broke through their doors." Richard was nearly buried in his blankets now, and even Edward looked a little nervous. Calypso would have felt bad if she didn't know that they both constantly requested frightful stories to scare them. "And then, when the Sisters were barricaded in their cellar, with nowhere to retreat, the western winds billowed across the field. With it, came the blue box. It was brilliant like the deepest blue sky, and it flew down to the convent to save them."

"It flew?" Edward asked, his mouth opened wide.

"Oh yes, it soared through the clouds like the raven. Sweeping down to rescue them from the terrible demon."

With a loud BANG from behind them, they all jumped.

"Oh, right. Sorry." The Doctor was the only one who seemed unconcerned by the noise. Calypso turned to the door and saw that there was a chair wedged between the handle and the floor, keeping out whatever had slammed against it. "I was afraid of that. Good story, though you've forgotten the bit about the wizard rescuing the princess." He said with a raised eyebrow as he hopped off the bed. Another bang rattled the chair, but it held steady.

"A-all the Sisters were princesses." Calypso said.

"Yes, but one of them was extraordinary." He met her eyes with that same grin, the one that somehow needed no explanation.

The door shook again, the attacks growing louder as someone tried to fight their way through it.

"Who's there?" She asked loudly. She had no particular right to be in the boys room at this time of night, much less with a strange man, but nor should there be anyone else intruding.

"That'll be good ole Henry." The Doctor answered for her, pulling a metal stick from his pocket that cast a strange green glow from its end. She felt her heart pounding again, it wasn't the same, but then it resembled it so closely that it was impossible not to make comparisons. He aimed it at the door and it gave off an unusual whirring sound. "Yes, I believe they've hatched," he checked his gold wristband. "Right on time too. Alright everyone. Story time is over, who's up for a bit of a trot?"

"A trot?" She shook her head, standing up and putting herself between the bed and the door. "It's far too late, and Richard is sick. He can't go running about."

"Well, the bad news is he's about to be much worse than sick if he stays here." The Doctor spun around, ignoring the door, his head bobbing as though he were searching for something.

"How much worse?"

"Dead worse. So…" He turned back to look at her. "The worst. I guess." The door splintered inward with another bang, still holding, but not for much longer.

Calypso's mouth felt dry as she watched him crawling around on the floor, pointing the glowing device at various points. "What's the good news?" She asked, her eyes drawn back to the door.

"The good news is that I've got a plan- Mostly. It's more of a plan in progress, but it's definitely something. I can do an awful lot with something."

She opened her mouth to argue, but the door groaned once more, and suddenly gave way with a crash.