The TARDIS was rattling violently as the Doctor was flying her, Violet and Martha watching- the latter in amazement, the former in amusement.
"Honestly, Doctor, it isn't that hard to remember to take off the brakes!" Violet laughed and flipped a switch, smoothing out the TARDIS' flight considerably. The Doctor grimaced at her, making the girl laugh even harder.
Martha, who was gripping onto the console tightly, was curious. "But how do you travel in time? What makes it go?" She questioned.
The Doctor sighed. "Oh, let's take the fun and mystery out of everything. Martha, you don't wanna know. It just does." He spun a small wheel. "Hold on tight!"
He put one of his Converse-clad feet on the console as the TARDIS shook, but Violet pushed it off before working the controls herself, stopping the shaking.
Martha had fallen to the ground during flight, but got back up. "Blimey, do you have to pass a test to fly this thing?"
"Yes-" The Doctor started, but Violet cut him off.
"He failed. Twice."
"It wasn't my fault!" He defended himself poorly, but Violet just raised her eyebrows. The Doctor sighed and turned to Martha in defeat.
"I failed. Now, make the most of this. I promised you one trip and one trip only. Outside this door," He leant against it. "Brave new world."
"Where are we?" Martha grabbed her jacket excitedly.
"Take a look." He opened the door. "After you." Martha stepped outside, and the Doctor and Violet joined her seconds later.
They were in the middle of an Elizabethan street. It was night time and the street was lit by torches and moonlight. People were milling about, doing their business, trading and chatting leisurely.
"Oh, you are kidding me. You are so kidding me. Oh, my God! We did it. We travelled in time. Where are we?" Martha looked about in astonishment before correcting herself. "No, sorry. I gotta get used to this- whole new language. When are we?"
The Doctor looked up to see a man with a bucket standing in a window and pulled Violet and Martha back, just before the man shouted, "Mind the loo!" and emptied the rather unpleasant containings onto the street.
"Somewhere before the invention of the toilet. Sorry about that." He grimaced.
"I've seen worse. I've worked the late night shift at A&E." Martha waved it off, too amazed to be disgusted.
Violet and the Doctor went to go down the street, but Martha stopped them. "But are we safe? I mean, can we move around and stuff?"
"Of course we can. Why do you ask?" They looked at her in confusion.
"It's like in the films. You step on a butterfly- you change the future of the human race." She exaggerated.
Violet looked at her, amused. "Well, tell you what then, don't step on any butterflies."
"What have butterflies ever done to you?" The Doctor agreed before they continued walking, Martha lagging behind slightly.
"What if- I dunno- what if I kill my grandfather?"
"You planning to?"
"No."
"Well, then."
Martha looked around in disbelief. "This is London."
"I think so. Right about 1599." The Doctor deducted from his surroundings.
"Oh, but hold on. Am I all right?" Martha asked, worried. "I'm not gonna get carted off as a slave, am I?"
"Why would they do that?" He frowned.
"Not exactly white, in case you haven't noticed." She held up her hand to the oblivous man.
"We're not even human." Violet countered. "Just walk about like you own the place. Works for us. Besides, you'd be surprised. Elizabethan England- not so different from your time."
The Doctor pointed at a man shovelling manure. "They've got recycling."
"Water cooler moment." Violet gestured to two men chatting by a water barrel as they walked past a man preaching about the end of the world.
"Global warming." The Doctor said.
"I was gonna say 'the apocalypse', but that works." Violet grinned. "But- the one thing London was known for in the late 1590s was the entertainment. We're just down the river by Southwark- right next to," She ran ahead a little. "The legendary Globe Theatre!" It stood proudly before them.
"Brand new. Just opened. Through, strictly speaking, it's not a globe, it's a tetradecagon- 14 sides- containing the man himself." The Doctor continued.
"Whoa, you don't mean..." She looked at the building in disbelief. "Is Shakespeare in there?" She squeaked.
"Oh, yes." He held out his arms. "Miss Jones, Violet- will you accompany me to the theatre?"
Martha enthusiastically linked her arm through his. "Yes, I will, Mr Smith!" He grinned and looked at Violet, who just smiled.
"Oh, go on then." She let the Doctor drag her off.
"When you get home, you can tell everyone you've seen Shakespeare." He told Matha.
"Then I could get sectioned!"
The trio were in the crowd of the Globe Theatre, watching the actors taking their bows while they cheered and applauded.
"That's amazing! Just amazing. It's worth putting up with the smell." Martha was clapping wildly. "And those are men dressed as women, yeah?"
"London never changes." The Doctor stated jokingly, earning him a nudge from Violet.
"Where's Shakespeare? I wanna see Shakespeare!" Martha put her fist in the air and started chanting, "Author! Author!" but cut off quickly when the Time Lords looked at her.
"Do people shout that? Do they shout "Author"?" She asked. A man behind her picked up the chant, and soon the whole crown was shouting 'Author'.
"Well..." The Doctor looked around. "They do now."
As requested, Shakespeare came onto the stage, took a bow and blew kisses as the audience went wild. The Doctor's face lit up, making Violet smile.
"He's a bit different from his portraits." Martha commented, but cheered nonetheless.
"Genius. He's a genius- THE genius. The most human human that's ever been. Now we're gonna hear him speak. Always, he chooses the best words. New, beautiful, brilliant words." The Doctor rambled, excited.
Suddenly, Shakespeare shouted, "Shut your big fat mouths!" and the crowd laughed, but the Doctor's smile dimmed considerably.
"Oh, well." He said, dissapointed.
"Never meet your heroes." Violet laughed.
"You have excellent taste! I'll give you that." Shakespeare pointed to a man in the audience. "Oh, that's a wig!"
He waited for the crowd to stop laughing before continuing. "I know what you're all saying. 'Loves Labour's Lost'- that's a funny ending, isn't it? It just stops! Will the boys get the girls? Well, don't get your hose in a tangle, you'll find out soon. Yeah, yeah. All in good time. You don't rush a genius." He bowed again, but jerked upright suddenly.
"When? Tomorrow night." The crowd cheered again, but the cast looked stunned. "The premiere of my brand new play. A sequel, no less, and I call it 'Loves Labour's Won'!"
The Doctor and Violet exchanged looks.
As they left the theatre, Martha commented,
"I'm not an expert, but I've never heard of 'Loves Labour's Won'."
"Exactly- the lost play. It doesn't exist- only in rumours." The Doctor said while shuffling with the crowd. "It's mentioned in lists of his plays but never ever turns up. No one knows why."
"Have you got a mini-disk or something? We could tape it. We can flog it. Sell it when we get home and make a mint." Martha suggested.
"No." He said simply.
"That would be bad." She nodded.
"Yeah. Yeah."
"Well, how come it disappeared in the first place?" Martha wondered.
"Well, I was just gonna give you a quick little trip in the TARDIS-" The Doctor started, but Violet turned around from where she was walking in front of them.
"Oh, come on, let's go discover the mystery of Shakespeare's lost play. You know you want to." She grinned with and adventurous glint in her eye.
The Doctor looked at her and sighed, defeated. "I suppose we could stay a bit longer." Violet beamed, and Martha gaped at how easily she was able to change his mind, especially because the Doctor didn't seem like one to change his mind for others.
They walked to a building named 'The Elephant Inn' where Shakespeare was staying. They were let through due to the Doctor's psychic paper, and he knocked on an open door, which revealed William Shakespeare, sitting and drinking beer with two of his cast members.
"Hello! Excuse me! I'm not interrupting, am I?" He beamed. "Mr. Shakespeare, isn't it?"
"Oh no, no, no, no. Who let you in? No autographs. No, you can't have yourself sketched with me." The man put his head in his hands. "And please don't ask where I get my ideas from. Thanks for the interest. Now be a good boy and shove-" He paused his rant as he saw Martha stepping out from behind the Doctor.
"Hey, nonny nonny. Sit right down here next to me." He said, before turning to the two men. "You two get sewing on them costumes. Off you go." He dismissed them.
A woman escorted them out, "Come on, lads. I think our William's found his new muse."
"Sweet lady." William said as Martha sat down. "Such unusual clothes. So... fitted."
"Um, verily, forsooth, egads." Martha tried.
"No, no, don't do that. Don't." The Doctor shook his head as he sat down and held out his psychic paper. "I'm Sir Doctor of TARDIS and this is my companion, Miss Violet Stewart, and our visitor, Miss Martha Jones."
Shakespeare frowned. "Interesting, that bit of paper. It's blank."
Violet beamed. "Oh, I just love you. Absolutely brilliant."
"I'm honoured, beautiful lady." William gave her a grin.
Martha was occupied with the psychic paper. "But it says so right there. Sir Doctor, Martha Jones, Violet Stewart. It says so."
"And I say it's blank." William winked at Violet.
"Psychic paper. Um, long story." The Doctor was going to explain, but thought better of it. "Oh, I hate starting from scratch." He complained.
"Psychic. Never heard that before and words are my trade. Who are you exactly? More's the point, who is your delicious blackamoore lady and that fair young maiden?" The most famous writer in history gestured to Martha and Violet.
"What did you say?" Martha laughed, astounded.
"Oops. Isn't that a word we use nowadays? An Ethiop girl? A swarth? A Queen of Afrique..." He listed.
"I can't believe I'm hearing this." She gaped.
"It's political correctness gone mad." The Doctor rubbed his face. "Um, Martha's from a far-off land. Freedonia." He made up poorly.
'Freedonia?' Violet mouthed, trying to stop herself from laughing before she turned to William. "And I'm just a traveller."
He went to say something, but a rather pompous man entered the room.
"Excuse me!" He boomed. "Hold hard a moment. This is abominable behaviour. A new play with no warning? I demand to see a script, Mr Shakespeare. As Master of the Revels, every new script must be registered at my office and examined by me before it can be performed."
William sighed. "Tomorrow morning, first thing, I'll send it 'round."
"I don't work to your schedule, you work to mine." The man held out his hand. "The script, now!" He demanded.
"I can't."
"Then tomorrow's performance is cancelled."
"It's all go 'round here, isn't it?" Martha commented sarcastically.
"I'm returning to my office for a banning order. If it's the last thing I do, 'Love's Labours Won' will never be played." He exited the room as swiftly as he could with his more-than-well-fed figure.
Martha took a sip of beer. "Well, then- mystery solved. That's 'Love's Labours Won' over and done with. Thought it might be something more, you know... more mysterious."
Just then, they heard screaming. Violet was the first to jump up, swiftly followed by the Doctor, Martha and Shakespeare.
They rushed outside onto the street to find Lynley spitting up water.
"It's that Lynley bloke." Martha breathed.
"What's wrong with him?" The Doctor frowned. "Leave it to me- I'm a doctor." He ran to Lynley's side with Violet.
"So am I– near enough." Martha joined them. They helped the man stand as he water continued coming from his mouth. He had his hands at his throat like he was suffocating, until- suddenly- he fell to the ground, dead.
Martha listened for his heart. "Gotta get the heart going. Mr Lynley, c'mon, can you hear me? You're gonna be all right." She went for mouth-to-mouth, but as she opened his, water gushed out again.
"What the hell is that?" Martha looked up at the Doctor. He knelt down next to her,
"I've never seen a death like it. His lungs are full of water- he drowned and then... I dunno, like a blow to the heart, an invisible blow." He turned to the woman, presumably the inn-keeper. "Good mistress, this poor fellow has died from a sudden imbalance of the humours. A natural if unfortunate demise. Call a constable and have him taken away."
"Yes, sir." She said as the Doctor went back to the body.
"And why are you telling them that?" Martha asked him quietly.
"This lot have still got one foot in the Dark Ages. If I tell them the truth, they'll panic and think it was witchcraft." The Doctor explained in the same tone.
"Okay, what was it then?"
"Witchcraft."
"I got you a room, Sir Doctor. We only had one left, so I'm afraid you, Miss Stewart and Miss Jones will have to share it." The inn-keeper announced as the Doctor, Martha, Violet and Shakespeare went back into the Inn.
"Poor Lynley. So many strange events." Shakespeare sympathised. "Not least of all, this land of Freedonia where a woman can be a doctor?"
Martha smiled, "Where a woman can do what she likes."
"And you, Sir Doctor. How can a man so young have eyes so old?"
The Doctor looked at him solemnly, "I do a lot of reading."
"Lastly, Miss Stewart. Such a beautiful young lady filled with so much regret."
Violet looked down and cleared her throat. "Life isn't defined by time, but by events, William. Some worse than others."
"Quite right you are." The man turned back to Martha. "And you, you look at him like you're surprised he exists and at her as if you wished she didn't."
Martha looked at him in surprise, "I think we should say good night."
"I must work. I have a play to complete. But I'll get my answers tomorrow, Doctor, and I'll discover more about you and why this constant performance of yours." Shakespeare promised.
"All the world's a stage." The Doctor mused before leaving. That left only Violet and William.
"She wishes I doesn't exist?" Violet asked, frowning.
"Love and envy come hand in hand, do they not?" He retorted wisely.
"Perhaps... Goodnight, William."
She closed the door behind her and joined Martha and the Doctor in their room. Martha was examining it as the Time Lords watched.
"It's not exactly five-star, is it?" She commented.
"Oh, it'll do. I've seen worse." The Doctor said lightly.
Martha complained. "I haven't even got a toothbrush."
"Ooh." He patted his pockets before pulling a brand-new toothbrush out of it. "Contains Venusian spearmint." He handed it to her.
"So, who's going where? I mean, there's only one bed." Martha laughed.
"We'll manage. C'mon." He flopped onto the bed. Violet sat down on the bench beneath the window and leant against it, watching the two of them interact.
"So, magic and stuff. That's a surprise. It's a little bit 'Harry Potter'." Martha said conversationally.
"Wait till you read Book Seven. Oh, I cried." He fawned, and Violet laughed a little.
"But is it real, though?" Martha asked excitedly. "I mean, witches, black magic and all that, it's real?"
"'Course it isn't!" The Doctor denied.
"Well, how am I supposed to know? I've only just started believing in time travel. Give me a break." She laughed, but was a little annoyed.
"Looks like witchcraft, but it isn't. Can't be." He looked at Martha. "Are you gonna stand there all night?"
She looked over at Violet, who had shifted her attention to the window, and sat down on the bed. "Budge up a bit, then."
The Doctor moved over.
"Sorry, there's not much room. Us two here, same bed. Tongues will wag." She joked suggestively, but the Doctor was oblivous.
"There's such a thing as psychic energy but a human couldn't channel it like that. Not without a generator the size of Taunton and I think we'd have spotted that."
He turned so that he was facing Martha, "No. There's something I'm missing, Martha." She looked at Violet again, expecting some kin of reaction, but when there was none, she faced the Doctor as well.
"Something really close, staring me right in the face and I can't see it. Rose would know. A friend of mine, Rose. Right now, she'd say exactly the right thing." He turned onto his back again, breaking what Martha thought was an intimate moment. "Still, can't be helped. You're a novice, never mind. I'll take you back home tomorrow." He told her nonchalantly.
Martha looked at him, miffed. "Great!" She said sarcastically and blew out the candle on the bedside table, turning her back on him.
Martha was sleeping while the Doctor and Violet sat on the bench underneath the windowsill, waiting for morning to come.
Violet leant her head on the Doctor's arm. "I miss home." She said quietly.
He looked down at her. "You mean the parallel world?"
"No, home. Gallifrey." She sighed.
"I'm sorry. I messed that one up, didn't I?" He said regrettfully.
"I told you. It wasn't your fault. Our people turned corrupt and you stopped them. You brought an end to the destruction. You just had to pay the price." She took his hand and slipped her own into it, looking at how they intertwined.
The Doctor was stunned by that action. "I never thought to ask- how did you end up on Earth?" He changed the topic.
"I was hiding."
"From who?"
"The Universe." She let go of his hand and started fiddling with her bracelet. "I'm the enemy. I've done some terrible things during the Time War- I mean, really bad things- and when I saw that, I ran. I went to Earth, but my TARDIS was taken away from me. I was stranded, and when the Time War ended... I was lost."
"The Daleks called you 'the Unnamed'." He stated and noticed Violet wince.
"I'm not 'the Unnamed', they just refuse to say my actual name. They were so scared of me, of what I've done. The Daleks." Her voice wavered as she forced herself not to cry.
"Tell me." The Doctor said gently. Violet didn't respond, so he made her look at him. "Who are you?"
"Are you sure you want to know?" When he nodded, she took a deep breath.
"I was coming to the end of my studies when the Time War began. I was smart- I was one of the people inspired by the Untempered Schism. A group of students were chosen to build weapons, me included. We were the Cult of Skaro of the Time Lords." She laughed bitterly. "We were supposed to kill, but I made the Genesis Ark. I didn't want to commit genocide back then. But they saw something- and corrupted me. They forced me into a meta-crisis and gave me a little bit of human imagination, they changed my biology. They extended my telepathy just a bit further and changed the way I regenerated... everything." She wiped a lone tear from her face. "They took it all away from me." She whispered with such a deep pain in her voice that tears welled up in the Doctor's eyes as he embraced her tightly.
"I'm so sorry." He said sincerely.
Violet shook her head. "They manipulated me into killing- made me bring down whole galaxies. I was dubbed 'the Destroyer of All'. And near the end of the Time War, I had billions of lives on my conscience. I travelled through the universe and saw people cower under my gaze. I snapped. I was going to end the Time War- I was going to do exactly what you did. Except that Rassilon found out. He was going to have me killed, and that's when I started running." She finished and looked up at the Doctor, who looked at Violet with intense sympathy.
"I'm sorry." He repeated in a whisper.
She smiled sadly. "You don't have to be. It's over, Theta."
"Yeah. Sorry."
Violet laughed quietly, not wanting to wake Martha. "Stop apologising!"
"Sorry." He said again, before smiling sheepishly.
"You're hopeless." She returned his smile.
He went to say something, but they heard a woman's scream. They both ran to help, the loud voice waking Martha up as well.
When they entered Shakespeare's room, William woke up from where he was sleeping at his desk, quil still in his hand.
"What? What was that?" He slurred a little, not quite awake yet. Violet and the Doctor examined the inn-keeper, who was lying on the floor.
"Her heart gave out. She died of fright." The Doctor stated, confused. Martha called him over to the window.
"What was her name?" Violet asked William.
"Uhm... Dolly. Her name was Dolly Bailey." He said remorsefully.
The Doctor turned back back around just in time to see Violet close the corpse's eyes and whisper, "I'm so sorry, Dolly Bailey."
When morning came, the Time Lords, Martha and Shakespeare were talking at William's desk.
"Oh, sweet Dolly Bailey. She sat out three bouts of the plague in this place. We all ran like rats. But what could have scared her so? She had such enormous spirit." He told them.
"'Rage, rage against the dying of the light.'" The Doctor quoted.
"I might use that." Shakespeare thought.
"You can't. It's someone else's." Violet told the man.
"But the thing is, Lynley drowned on dry land, Dolly died of fright and they were both connected to you." Martha thought out loud.
"You're accusing me?" William raised his eyebrows.
"No, but I saw a witch, big as you like, flying, cackling away, and you've written about witches." Martha said.
"I have? When was that?"
Violet cleared her throat. "Not, not quite yet." She said lowly.
"Peter Streete spoke of witches." William spoke up.
"Who's Peter Streete?" Martha asked.
"He's the architect. But..." Violet paused. "Oh, that's brilliant! We need to get to the Globe. Now!" Violet grinned, running outside already.
Since the Inn was only a little distance away, they made it there quickly. William let them in and got up on the stage. He hoisted Martha up as well, but the two Time Lords stayed in the pit.
"The columns there, right? 14 sides. I've always wondered but I never asked... tell me, Will, why 14 sides?" The Doctor looked up at Will.
"It was the shape Peter Streete thought best, that's all. Said it carried the sound well." William said, exasperated.
"Why does that ring a bell? 14…" The Doctor thought.
"There are 14 lines in a sonnet." Martha suggested.
"So there is. Good point. Words and shapes following the same design." He started pacing. "14 lines, 14 sides, 14 facets…Oh, my head. Tetradecagon... think, think, think! Words, letters, numbers, lines!"
"This is just a theatre." Shakespeare commented.
"Oh, but a theatre's magic, isn't it? You should know. Stand on this stage, say the right words with the right emphasis a the right time... Oh, you can make men weep, or cry with joy, change them. You can change people's minds just with words in this place. And if you exaggerate that..." The Doctor started.
"Why don't we go to the man himself?" Violet turned to William. "Where can we find the good Peter Streete?"
"You won't get an answer. A month after finishing this place... lost his mind." He told her.
"Why? What happened?" Martha asked.
"Started raving about witches, hearing voices, babbling. His mind was addled."
"Where's he now?" Violet questioned.
"Bedlam." He said, making her wince.
Marth frowned. "What's Bedlam?"
"Bethlem Hospital. The madhouse."
"We're gonna go there. Right now." The Doctor reached out for Violet's hand. "Come on."
They made their way onto the street, Martha and William conversing behind them.
The Doctor scoffed. "Humans." He turned back. "Come on. We can all have a good flirt later." He called.
"Is that a promise, Doctor?" Will retorted smoothly.
Violet laughed. "Oh... 57 academics just punched the air. Now move!"
Bedlam was gruesome. People were screaming and moaning as the Doctor, Violet, Martha and William were lead through the halls.
The jailer, with a whip in his hand turned to the Doctor, "Does my lord, Doctor, wish some entertainment while he waits? I'd whip these madmen. They'll put on a good show for ya. Bandog and Bedlam!"
"No, I don't!"
"Wait here, my lords, while I make him decent for the ladies." The jailer walked off, whipping someone's fingers as he passed them.
Martha frowned. "So this is what you call a hospital, yeah? Where the patients are whipped to entertain the gentry? And you put your friend in here?"
"Oh, and it's all so different in Freedonia." Shakespeare said sarcastically.
"But you're clever! Do you honestly think this place is any good?" Martha exclaimed.
"I've been mad. I've lost my mind. Fear of this place set me right again. It serves its purpose." He said solemnly.
"Mad in what way?"
"You lost your son." The Doctor said softly.
Will nodded. "My only boy. The Black Death took him. I wasn't even there."
"I didn't know. I'm sorry." Martha apologised.
"It made me question everything. The futility of this fleeting existence. To be or not to be..." He paused. "Oh, that's quite good."
"You should write that down." Violet remarked.
"Hm, maybe not. A bit pretentious?" William asked.
"Meh."
The jailer called from down the hallway. "This way, m'lord!"
They walked down to him, Violet looking at all the people in the cells. They were starved and bruised, whip marks on their skin. She winced when she saw a child, alone and crying.
"They can be dangerous, m'lord. Don't know their own strength." The jailer told them while unlocking the door.
"I think it helps if you don't whip them! Now get out!" The Doctor hissed.
"Someone needs to put them in their place. Greedy pests, these are." He smirked.
In one swift movement, Violet grabbed him by the collar. "I suggest you get yourself and your whip out of my sight before I lose my patience." She growled lowly. The man nodded frightfully and scurried away, Violet staring after him disgustedly.
"Peter? Peter Streete?" The Doctor asked.
"He's the same as he was. You'll get nothing out of him." William told him.
Violet moved over to him and placed a hand on Peter's shoudler. "Peter?" She said softly. His head jerked up and revealed his eyes, glassy and wild. He looked as if he wanted to speak but had a storng stutter on him.
She put her fingers on his temples. "Hello Peter, I'm Violet. Do remember what happened a year ago? That wasn't you. It didn't happen to you, it happened to someone else. It was just a story, a children's story. You're fine, you're home with your wife and son. And you're going to tell them that story, okay? There we go. It's only a story."
She laid Peter down on his cot gently.
"Tell your family the story, Peter. Tell them about the witches." She stood back up.
"Witches spoke to Peter. In the night, they whispered. Got Peter to build the Globe to their design. THEIR design! The 14 walls- always 14. When the work was done," He laughed. "They snapped poor Peter's wits."
"Where did Peter see the witches? Where in the city?" Violet crouched down next to Peter again and put a hand on his cheek. "Come on, it's okay. It's only a story. Where did Peter see the witches?" She spoke softly.
"All Hallows Street." He told them.
"Too many words." A new voice spoke from beside Violet. She looked and saw someone who looked very much like a witch. A crooked nose, pointed teeth and straw-like hair.
She jumped up and went to stand beside the Doctor.
"What the hell?" Martha gasped.
The 'witch' laid her hand on Peter's chest. "Just one touch of the heart."
"No!" The Doctor shouted as Peter died with a cry.
"Witch! I'm seeing a witch!" William exclaimed in disbelief.
"Who would be next, hmm? Just one touch." The witch stretched out. "Oh, oh, I'll stop your frantic hearts. Poor, fragile mortals."
Martha ran to the cell gates and started rattling them. "Let us out! Let us out!" She yelled.
"That's not gonna work. The whole building's shouting that." The Doctor told her.
"Who will die first, hmm?" The witch smiled.
"Oh, alright then, I'll have a go. Since you're asking." Violet stepped forward.
William panicked, "Can you stop her?"
"No mortal has power over me."
"Et cetera. I just need the right words." Violet smiled intimidatingly.
"None on Earth has knowledge of us."
"Well, as I said- et cetera. Because I know now that you wanted a building with 14 sides. A theatre. And what's spoken in theatres? Hm?" She raised an eyebrow. "Words. You just love those. So!" She paused for a second, smirking. "I name thee Carrionite!"
The Carrionite wailed loudly and disappeared in a bright light.
Violet turned around, still smirking. "The 14 stars of the Rexel planetary configuration. I'm very good at brainstorming under pressure."
"What did she do?" Martha asked the Doctor.
"She named her. The power of a name. That's old magic." He told her.
"But there's no such thing as magic." She denied.
"Well, it's just a different sort of science. You lot, you chose mathematics. Given the right string of numbers, the right equation, you can split the atom. Carrionites use words instead." He explained.
"Use them for what?" William questioned.
Violet grimaced, "The end of the world."
"The Carrionites disappeared way back at the dawn of the universe. Nobody was sure if they were real or legend." They had gone back to the Inn and were discussing in William's room.
"You never did pay attention in the history classes. The Carrionite developed word-based science and went to war with... others. When it was threatening the structure of the universe, the Eternals actually did something useful for once and banished them into the 'Deep Darkness'." Violet corrected the Doctor.
"I can't know everything, can I?" He defended himself half-heartedly, smiling.
"Well, you're a genius to me." Martha grinned at him and Violet raised her eyebrows at him, grinning.
William cleared his throat. "I'm going for real, then."
"But what do they want?" Martha got back to the task on hand.
"A new empire on Earth. A world of bones and blood and witchcraft." He spat.
"But how?"
"I'm looking at the man with the words." He pointed as Shakespeare.
"Me? But I've done nothing." He denied.
"Hold on, though. What were you doing last night, when that Carrionite was in the room?" Martha interrogated.
"Finishing the play."
"What happens on the last page?" The Doctor asked.
"The boys get the girls. They have a bit of a dance. It's all as funny and thought-provoking as usual- except those last few lines. Funny thing is... I don't actually remember writing them." He screwed his face up.
"That's it. They used you. They gave you the final words. Like a spell, like a code. 'Love's Labours Won'- it's a weapon! The right combination of words, spoken at the right place with the shape of the Globe as an energy converter! The play's the thing!" He shouted, gathering his thoughts. "And yes, you can have that." He told him as he grabbed a map.
"All Hallows Street." He pointed at it. "There it is. We'll track them down. Will, you get to the Globe. Whatever you do, stop that play!"
"I'll do it." He sadi firmly an shook the Doctor's hand. "All these years I've been the cleverest man around. Next to you two," He gestured at him and Violet. "I know nothing."
"Oh, don't complain." Martha grinned.
"I'm not. It's marvellous. Good luck, Doctor."
"Good luck, Shakespeare." They headed for the door.
"Once more unto the breach!" Violet quoted.
I like that. Wait a minute- that's one of mine." William realised.
"Oh, just shift!" She called, already running outside.
All Hallows Street was only the next street, but they stood in the middle of it, confused.
"All Hallows Street, but which house?" The Doctor looked around.
"The thing is, though... Am I missing something here? The world didn't end in 1599. It just didn't. Look at me- I'm living proof." Martha said.
"Oh, how to explain the mechanics of the infinite temporal flux? I know! 'Back to the Future'! It's like 'Back to the Future'!" He metaphorised.
"The film?"
"No, the novelisation." He retorted sarcastically. "Yes, the film. Marty McFly goes back and changes history."
"And he starts fading away." She nodded. "Oh my God, am I gonna fade?"
"You and the entire future of the human race. It ends right now in 1599 if we don't stop it." He told her. "But which house?"
A door opened by itself.
"Correction: WITCH house?" Violet joked and stepped inside. They find a young woman that Violet recognised as a maid from the Inn waiting for them.
"I take it we're expected." Violet said lightly, pushing a curtain out of her way.
"Oh, I think Death has been waiting for you a very long time." The woman smirked.
"Right then, it's my turn." Martha stepped forward. "I know how to do this. I name thee, Carrionite!" She pointed at her, but the Carrionite was unaffected.
"What did I do wrong? Was it the finger?" Martha looked back at the Doctor.
"The power of a name works only once. Observe." The woman pointed at Martha. "I gaze upon this bag of bones and now I name thee Martha Jones." Martha collapsed just in time for the Doctor to catch her and lower her to the ground.
"What have you done?" He shouted.
"Only sleeping, alas. Curious, the name has less impact. She's somehow out of her time. And as for you, Sir Doctor!" She pointed at him, but nothing happened, so she turned to Violet. "And you, Violet Stewart!" Again, nothing happened.
"Fascinating. There is no name. Why would two people hide their titles in such despair? Oh, but look. There are still words with a power that aches."
"The naming won't work on me." The Doctor stood up.
"But your heart grows cold. The north wind blows and carries down the distant... Rose." The young woman provoked him.
"And you," The Carrionite looked at Violet. "There may not be a name, but you were so alone, weren't you? So many years, you waited. In the dark, trapped on a single planet. So alone with so much regret in your heart. So many lives..." She trailed off, smirking again.
"Wrong words. I do have some for you, though. You were trapped, too. You went to war with the Hervoken at the dawn of the Universe, and the Eternals trapped you. Sent you into the Deep Darkness. Was it fun? Because I may have waited a long time, but you waited so much longer." Violet grinned when the Carrionite's face fell.
"Tell me- because I'm a curious mind. How did you escape?"
"New words. New and glittering, from a mind like no other." She teased.
"Shakespeare." The Doctor breathed.
"His son perished. The grief of a genius. Grief without measure. Madness enough to allow us entrance." She told them.
"How many of you?"
"Just the three. But the play tonight shall restore the rest. Then the human race will be purged as pestilence. And from this world we will lead the universe back to the old ways of blood and magic." She preached.
"Hmm... busy schedule." He scratched his ear and stepped forward. "But first you gotta get past me."
"Oh, that should be a pleasure considering my enemy has such a handsome shape." She said seductively, running a hand through his hair.
"Now, that's one form of magic that's definitely not gonna work on me." The Doctor gazed down at her.
"Oh, we'll see." She said lightly. There was a snip to be heard and the Carrionite backed away.
"What did you do?" He touched his hair.
"Souvenir." She smiled.
"Well, give it back!" He shouted. The woman threw up her arms, opening the window behind her and flying through it, floating in mid-air.
"Well, that's just cheating." The Doctor commented as Martha slowly woke up.
"Behold, Doctor. Men to Carrionites are nothing but puppets." She pulled a doll from her dress and wrapped his hair around it.
"Now, you might call that magic- I'd call that a DNA replication module." He stated.
"What use is your science now?" She stabbed the doll in the chest, and he fell to the ground with a cry, clutching one of his hearts. Violet rushed over to him.
"Oh, Theta. You stupid man." She sighed, smiling a little. He tried to get up, but fell back to the floor.
"This might hurt a little, sorry." Violet hit the Doctor on the back, hard, just as Martha woke up fully and got up.
"Thanks." He breathed. The other Time Lord grinned and grabbed his hand, seeing that Martha was awake.
"No time to waste. Off to the Globe!" They laughed as they ran, Martha lagging behind slightly.
"We're going the wrong way!" Martha shouted as the Doctor headed in a completely different direction.
"No, we're not!"
Violet sighed, "Stop being stubborn and come back, will you? Fate of the world and all, you know?"
"Sorry!" He grinned and turned back, heading in the right direction.
As they ran down the streets, they heard screaming and saw a red glow pouring from the Globe.
"Stage doors!" The Doctor shouted, heading off again. They burst in backstage and saw Shakespeare nursing his head.
"Stop the play..." He paused. "I think that was it. Yeah, I said, 'Stop the play'!"
"I hit my head." William defended himself.
"Yeah, don't rub it, you'll go bald." He advised as they heard screams out front. "I think that's our cue!"
The Doctor took Violet's hand and pulled her outside, William and Martha following.
"Come on, Will! History needs you!" The Doctor grabbed him.
"But what can I do?" He exclaimed.
"Reverse it!"
"How am I supposed to do that?" He asked.
"You're a genius, William. You can reverse it with your words!" Violet told him.
"But what words? I have none ready!"
"You're William Shakespeare!" The Doctor yelled.
"But these Carrionite phrases, the need such precision!" He complained.
"So do yours! Yours words are perfect. When you write, they just spill onto the paper, don't they? Ordinary words in an order that makes them brilliant! You can do that, and you can do this, too. Improvise!" Violet shouted over the cackling of the Carrionite.
"Close up this den of hateful, dire decay!
Decomposition of your witches' plot!
You thieve my brains, consider me your toy.
My doting Doctor tells me I am not!
Foul Carrionite spectres, cease your show!
Between the points 7-6-1-3-9-0!
And banished like a tinker's cuss, I say to thee..."
He looked at the Doctor in a loss for words, and he looked at Violet.
She grinned, "Expelliarmus!"
"Expelliarmus!" The Doctor repeated.
"Expelliarmus!"
"Good old JK!"
The Carrionite screamed as they were comsumed by the Deep Darkness once again. The stage door opened, and all copies of the play also get sucked up into the cloud above the Globe in a tornado-like fashion.
When the screaming ceased and the cloud dissipated, the audience slowly started clapping. The cast and Martha took bows as the Doctor ducked from the stage.
"I think we've done our work here." Violet smiled contently as she observed the people on the streets.
"Off to the TARDIS?" The Doctor suggested.
Violet nodded, "Off to the TARDIS. Just a quick stop in the prop house, first."
The Time Lords barged into the Globe one last time.
"Good props store back there! I'm not sure about this though." The Doctor held up a skull to Violet. "Reminds me of a Sycorax."
"Sycorax. Nice word. I'll have that off you as well." William smiled.
"I should be on 10%. How's your head?" The Doctor asked.
"Still aching."
"Try this." Violet took of the collar the Doctor was wearing and put it around Will's neck. "Neck brace. Wear that for a few days till it's better, although you might wanna keep it. It suits you." She smiled.
"What about the play?" Martha asked.
"Gone. I looked all over- every single copy of 'Love's Labours' Won' went up in the sky."
"My lost masterpiece." Shakespeare sighed.
"You could write it up again." Martha suggested.
"Yeah, better not, Will." Violet grimaced. "There's still power in those words. Maybe it should best stay forgotten."
"Oh, but I've got new ideas. Perhaps it's time I wrote about fathers and sons. In memory of my boy- my precious Hamnet."
"Hamnet?" Martha asked in disbelief.
Will nodded. "That's him."
"Ham-NET?" She repeated.
"What's wrong with that?"
"Never mind." Violet laughed. "I think it's time we say goodbye before we change history too much."
"Yeah, it's time we take Martha back to Freedonia." The Doctor nodded.
"You mean travel on through time and space." Shakespeare said lightly.
"Brilliant man." Violet hugged him as the Doctor gaped.
"What?"
"You two are from another world like the Carrionites and Martha is from the future. It's not hard to work out."
"That's... incredible. You are incredible." The Doctor praised.
"We're alike in many ways, Doctor. Martha, let me say goodbye to you in a new verse. A sonnet for my Dark Lady. Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?" Violet gave the Doctor a look.
"Martha is the inspiration for one of Will's most famouse pieces? I'm jealous." She grinned.
"Will! Will! You'll never believe it! She's here! She's turned up!" A cast member shouted, excitedly.
Another came in, "We're the talk of the town. She heard about last night! She wants us to perform it again."
"Who?" Martha asked.
"Her Majesty! She's here!"
"Queen Elizabeth I!" The Doctor exclaimed as the woman herself entered the Globe.
"Doctor!" She called, a frown upon her face.
"What?"
"My sworn enemy!"
"What?"
"Off with his head!" She ordered.
"What?" The Doctor repeated for the third time.
"Oh, come on. One last time!" Violet grabbed the Doctor's hand and they ran through the streets of 1599 London, followed by the Queen's soldiers.
"What have you done to upset her?!" Martha shouted while running.
"How should I know? Haven't even met her yet. That's time travel for you! Still, can't wait to find out." He opened the TARDIS. "That's something to look forward to." He entered just in time to miss an arrow. "Oh!"