Chapter 7

Clara left her Doctor, and his previous version with the great hair, and went to introduce herself to the old man who used to be them both. "Hello."

"Hello," he said with a smile.

"I'm Clara. We haven't really met yet."

"I look forward to it," he said with some amusement. "Is there a problem?" He asked. He could sense that something was troubling this young lady.

"The Doctor," she started, and then realised that he was the Doctor. "My, my Doctor, he's always talking about the day he did it. The day he wiped out the Time Lords to stop the war."

"One would," he agreed.

"You wouldn't. Because you haven't done it yet. It's still in your future."

Ooh, she was feisty. So he still chose his companions well in the future. "You're very sure of yourself."

"He regrets it. I see it in his eyes every day. He'd do anything to change it."

"Including saving all these people. How many worlds has his regret saved, do you think? Look over there. Humans and Zygons working together in peace." He was curious as to how she knew he was a predecessor. "How did you know?"

"Your eyes. You're so much younger," she told him. Those eyes hadn't seen the destruction of an entire planet.

"Then, all things considered, it's time I grew up." He looked past her." I've seen all I needed... The moment has come… I'm ready," he said to the air behind her.

"I know you are," Bad Wolf agreed.

Clara looked over her shoulder. "Who's there? Who were you talking to?" When she looked back at the old warrior, the chair was empty. "What the…"

"Er, Doctor?" She called out.

Sandshoes and Chinny both said "Yes."

Clara stopped and looked between them with a puzzled expression. "OK… The old guy, who's the younger guy has disappeared."

"What?!" They said together. "Where could he go?" The Tenth Doctor asked.

"He seemed to be talking to someone behind me and I turned to look. When I looked back, he'd gone."

"What did he say?" Her Doctor asked her, looking from under his floppy fringe.

"Er, We were talking, and he said the moment had come and he was ready," she recalled.

The two Doctors looked at each other knowingly. "The Moment," Ten said. "It must have orchestrated all this… We have to go and find him, be there for him."

"Yes, you're right. Come on Clara, we're leaving. My TARDIS is outside the National Gallery, can you give us a lift?" Eleven asked. Ten's TARDIS was parked in the courtyard of the Tower of London above them.

They were confident that Kate Stewart would not detonate the nuclear warhead twenty feet below them. Not because the Human - Zygon negotiations were going so well, but mainly because they had disabled all the microphone inputs to the computer so that it was effectively 'deaf' and so couldn't hear any verbal commands. They had also disabled the keyboards, just in case someone tried to enter the countdown command manually.

Over the centuries, the Doctor had learned that there was more than one way to save a civilisation. They left the Black Archive, (much to the surprise of Mr. Atkins the security guard, as he was sure he had only let the young lady in earlier) and made their way to Ten's TARDIS, which had now settled down, and was showing his 'grunge' interior.

"Right then, first stop National Gallery, and then on to Gallifrey," Ten said, operating the console with his usual flourish.

"You're still travelling alone then?" Eleven asked, knowing full well that he would be on his own now until his next regeneration. It was just a way of striking up a conversation.

"Yeah. After Rose, y'know… and then Donna. I couldn't face losing anyone else," he said quietly, concentrating on the console so that they couldn't see the tears stinging his eyes.

He sniffed and looked up, a false smile on his lips. "But I see you're carrying on the tradition." He waggled his eyebrows at Clara.

Eleven looked at Clara and smiled. "What, Clara? Yes, she's very special this one, different to other companions we've had."

"Really?" Ten said, and realised that his future self would say no more on the subject. He then remembered a diary and a sonic screwdriver from long ago. "Do you ever see River?"

"Now and again, our time lines cross now and then." He hesitated before continuing. "We got married."

Ten looked up suddenly. "Hah! You're a bit of a dark horse aren't you," he said with a grin. "I look forward to that one." He waggled his eyebrows at Clara again. "It's always the quiet ones."

"I don't think you two could ever be considered quiet," she said with a smile.

"Wait a minute though, that means you're a bigamist, because I'm married to Queen Elizabeth," he said as he landed the TARDIS.

"Ah, alternate time line so it doesn't count. We were in Area 52, inside the Great Pyramid of Giza, all of history was happening at the same time, all a bit wibbly wobbly. I exchanged vows with River, and bang, everything was back to normal."

They walked down the ramp and out of the door for Eleven and Clara to get in their own TARDIS, except that it wasn't there. Neither was the National Gallery.

"My Love. You have returned as promised. Nicholas Hilliard is here to start our wedding portrait," a beaming Elizabeth said.

"What?!" Ten said, realising that the TARDIS had brought them back to 1562.

"And then we can have a wedding feast, before we retire to our bed chamber where we can consummate our marriage," she said coyly as she rubbed her body against him and stroked his tight suit.

"What?!"

Eleven was grinning like a Cheshire cat, and Clara had a fit of giggles. Elizabeth hugged Ten's arm and literally dragged him into the castle.

"But we have to…" he protested.

"Have a painting that Clara and myself can look at in the Under Gallery," Eleven finished for him.

Ten gave him a look that would make a Dalek flinch, and Clara continued to giggle. "Now run along and get changed, there's a good boy," she said with a wink.

"Once the artist has got the details for the painting, we can set off to Gallifrey," Eleven told her.

"Spoilsport," Clara said, giving him her impish smile. "I don't think Elizabeth will thank you for spiriting away her husband on their wedding night." She looked around the castle courtyard, appreciating the medieval architecture, when through the arched gateway, she saw a trio of strangely dressed men approaching.

"It looks like the Queen has engaged a troupe of mummers for some entertainment," Clara observed.

Eleven looked through the gateway and frowned. "Oh no, not them. What are they doing here?"

"You know them?" Clara asked in surprise.

"Know them? I am them."

"I say there," the man with the pudding basin haircut called out. "I wonder if you could help us. We are looking for a magician or alchemist who would be able to create swirling illusions in the air."

"If you mean the Time Fissure over in the woods, then you've missed him. Is that how you lot got here?" Eleven said as they approached.

They stopped in their tracks and frowned. "You know us?" The man wearing a long scarf and floppy hat said.

"Yes, yes. Mop Top there is my second body, you with the scarf are my fourth, and Coco is my sixth."

"Coco?" Six said indignantly.

Two looked him up and down and laughed. "Coco the Clown. Yes, very good."

"Hello my dear," Four said to Clara, holding out his hand and raising his hat. "We are the Doctor."

Clara shook his hand. "Clara, and this is you in your eleventh body," she said, pointing at Eleven with her thumb.

"Very pleased to meet you," he said with a big smile.

"Yes, alright, enough of that," Six said rudely. "Maybe you could tell us what the devil is going on."

"Well, me, Clara, and Sandshoes are supposed to be here. I think you lot have got caught up in this by accident," Eleven said.

"Sandshoes?" Two asked.

"That's his nickname for your tenth body," Clara told them.

"Talking of Sandshoes, I bet he's ready for his portrait by now," Eleven said. "Come on everybody, I'll introduce you to Queen Elizabeth the First and her new husband."

"Husband? Elizabeth Tudor didn't have a husband," Two said.

"She does now," Eleven said over his shoulder as they walked into the castle.

"Wine?" A servant asked at the door, carrying a silver tray with silver goblets on it.

"That'll be him you want," Two said pointing over his shoulder at Six with his thumb. "He hasn't stopped whining since we got here."

"No, wine sire. Compliments of the Queen," the servant explained.

"I don't whine!" Six protested.

"Yes you do," Two, Four and Eleven said together.

Six looked hurt by their accusation. "I just don't tolerate fools gladly."

Four reached past them. "Don't mind if I do," he said taking one of the goblets off the tray.

"Go easy there old chap, remember how you got here," Two cautioned

Four gave him an annoyed look. "I told you, I wasn't drunk. Solon spiked my drink."

Eleven raised his eyebrows as he sipped the fruity red wine. "Solon, I remember him. Was that when you were on Karn?"

"Yes, it was."

He thought about how much he could tell him. "Can't tell you why, but you're right, he did spike your drink."

Four looked at Two with a triumphant smile. "See, told you so."

They walked down the hallway towards the drawing room, which would literally become the 'drawing room'.

There were courtesans and serving staff milling about in the room who stopped and looked at the strangers in even stranger clothing as they entered.

A man in black doublet, breeches, cloak and the usual white ruff, walked towards them. "I take it from your attire, that you are friends of the groom."

"Er, yes. Sort of, yes," Eleven said.

"Ah, good. Francis Walsingham at your service," he said with a bow. "I am charged with the safety of the Queen, and I am… surprised by this whirlwind romance and marriage."

"Not as surprised as the groom, I'll wager," Four said with his charming grin.

"Yes, quite," Walsingham said, not quite sure how to respond to Four's quip. "I mean, there have been proposals from Philip, King of Spain; Charles, Archduke of Austria, not to mention her childhood sweetheart Robert Dudley now that his wife has died. And yet, she chooses this mysterious stranger of whom we know nothing."

"Ah, yes, I can see where you're coming from," Eleven said. "Rest assured Sir Francis, his credentials are impressive. He is a Lord of Gallifrey…"

"Former Lord President of Gallifrey," Six added.

"A man of contrasts," Two said. "Courageous and brave, and yet reserved and thoughtful."

"Always keen to avoid conflict," Four added.

"But no coward," Two declared.

"He never gives up on people," Six said.

"And he never gives in to tyranny or oppression," Four finished.

"A nobleman then?" Walsingham said.

"A very noble man," Clara said looking around at the Doctors around her. "I trust him with my life."

Three of the Doctors looked suitably humbled and embarrassed by her declaration. Her Doctor however, the latest version, looked full of remorse and guilt. Billions of Gallifreyans had trusted him with their lives, and they were wrong to. He had failed them because he had chosen to act against those who would massacre Gallifreyan civilisation, and they had died in the process.

Clara saw the look in his eyes and reached out to gently squeeze his upper arm. "Hey, are you alright? I didn't mean to upset you. I was just being honest."

"No, it's alright. I was just thinking about all the people over the centuries who have trusted me with their lives."

Before they could follow that thought through, an officious looking man in deep red clothing, a cloak edged with ermine, and wearing a black hat, entered the room and spoke. "My lords, ladies, and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to present the bride, Queen Elizabeth, and her husband, Prince Consort Doctor."

The Queen entered the room to applause, wearing a beautifully embroidered high necked gold dress. She was on the arm of her husband, who was wearing black clothing embroidered with gold, and a heavy gold chain around his neck, topped off with a ruff, which he was running his finger around as though it was choking him.

He rolled his eyes when he saw his earlier incarnations. "Oh no, what are that lot doin' here?"

"They just dropped in to give their best wishes to the happy couple," Eleven said with a cheeky smile.

"Is everything alright my Love?" Elizabeth asked with concern.

He patted her hand that was resting on his forearm and smiled. "It's fine Elizabeth. Just some old friends of mine." He pointed his finger at them. "One laugh, one giggle, one titter, and I'm out of here, paradox or no paradox," he told them.

Clara walked over, went on to tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. "Ignore them. I for one think that Elizabethan dress is very… sexy."

Ten raised his eyebrows. "Sexy?"

"Yeah, the ruff, and the… codpiece. It doesn't get much sexier than that," she told him with a sultry look in her eyes.

He worked his neck around in the ruff, and pulled down the bottom of his doublet. "Sexy huh… Yep, still got it."

The officious man in the deep red robes, William Cecil, who was Secretary of State, ushered the happy couple over to an area by the window, where the Queen's official artist Nicholas Hilliard was waiting. The Queen and Ten struck a pose that Eleven and Clara would see centuries later in the Under Gallery. Whilst Hilliard was making preliminary sketches with charcoal on the canvas, Ten spotted a group of travellers through the window who were approaching the castle from the edge of the forest.

"Oh no, not more of them. We'll be able to start our own version of Facebook soon."

"Eh?" Eleven went over to the window and recognised the remaining six Doctors approaching. "I don't believe this."

"Is there a problem?" Walsingham asked, ready to deploy his troops to protect the queen.

"No, no problem. Just more of the in-laws turning up," Eleven said. He looked at Walsingham and smiled. "Every family has them. Y'know, the ones you don't talk about or invite round for Christmas."

"Ah, yes. The embarrassments as I call them," Walsingham nodded knowingly. "Would you like me to detain them?"

"No, they're harmless enough. You'd better send them in."

Walsingham spoke quietly to one of his officers, who then left to escort the new arrivals in to the castle.