The Doctor pulled a leaver, making the TARDIS groan, creaking as it started to cool down.
My knuckles were white and stiff when I released my death grip on the railing, I don't think I'm going to get used to being thrown about like a rag-doll.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself.
I looked up at the Doctor as he strolled over to me, leaning against the console.
"Your turn now," he said crossing his arms over his chest.
I stared at him blankly, not quite sure what he was talking about.
"Well?" he pressed, looking down at me expectantly.
"I apologise for not having some alien brain waves, but you're going to have to go into more context."
His lips turned up slightly before swinging around to the other side of the console, flipping a few switches.
"All of time a space," he said excitedly. "Any time, anywhere. Your choice."
My mind went blank. There were so many possibilities, most of which I couldn't even comprehend. Where should we go? When should be go? It was a whole new concept. I took my time processing it. Thinking of all the places I could go.
I had just been to some futuristic medieval castle.
That's when it hit me.
"I've got it," I answered happily, excitement fluttering inside.
"And where might that be?"
"Can we go to Camelot?"
His eyes lit up at the idea. He manoeuvred around the console, flipping switches, and pressing buttons. I couldn't help but notice the spring in his step. Once he was done he took hold of the console, one hand hovering over a button.
I took hold of the railing, ready to brace myself.
"Ready?" he asked.
I nodded, feeling slightly out of breath.
"Allons-y!" he cried, bringing his hand down on the button.
We landed with a thud, the space ship wheezing in protest. The Doctor grabbed a mallet and gave it a quick hit, causing it to stop. I released my grip on the railing, my wrists aching slightly from the recent burns. I pushed the pain aside and looked up to the Doctor as he grabbed his coat from one of the pillars.
"You might want to get changed," he said, shrugging into the coat.
"Why?"
"Because they may mistake you as a man, now off you go."
I stared down one of the hallways, the thought of going down there not appealing to me.
"First left, second right, third on the left, go straight ahead, under the stairs, past the bins, fifth door on you left."
I turned back to him.
"You need signs," I replied before heading off.
I returned a few minutes later, fussing over what I had on. The TARDIS must by physic or something, as when I finally found the wardrobe, the only clothes available were these medieval gowns. Not exactly something I ever imagined myself in.
I pulled at the red skirt that fell the the floor, which wasn't a good move on my behalf, as I tripped over it. The white top was easier to handle, after I figured out what bits you were meant to tie.
I walked into the centre room where the Doctor stood waiting for me. He looked up as a stumbled into view, adjusting the leather belt around my waist.
"I'd like to see them mistake me as a man now," I said, once again tripping over the hem of the skirt.
The Doctor laughed as he walked over, extending his arm out to me.
"Shall we?" he asked.
I linked my arm through his. So that's why women do that. It's because they can't stand on their own two feet due to their ridiculous clothing. Oh the things we do for fashion.
The Doctor lead us down the ramp, opening the door, and letting me out first. We were in Camelot.
People walked passed, wearing clothes covered in dirt and dust, carrying small baskets with herbs. The sound of metal against metal drifting through the air.
"What do you think?" the Doctor asked coming up beside me.
"Colder than I expected but, wow. Look. That guy is wearing old clothes, and..." Just then something caught my attention. "Oh my god. Doctor. It's a knight. An actual knight. He has a sword." I made large hand gestures towards the man, as my words had escaped me.
The Doctor just smiled, before heading towards him.
"Doctor what are you doing. You can't just talk to a knight. There are probably laws against that sort of thing!" I called after him. I picked my skirt up and ran after him, gaining myself a few odd looks.
"Doctor," I hissed as he approached the knight.
He rolled his eyes at me.
"Hello. I'm John Smith, and this is my friend Melissa Vega, how are you?"
The knight turned, assessing the both of us.
"I'm well thank you. Is there anything I could assist you with?"
I couldn't help the small squeal of excitement that left my lips, gaining the attention of both men.
"Are you alright miss?" he asked me. Lets just say that him talking to me wasn't doing any good for my breathing, as I started breathing rather heavily.
"She's fine," the Doctor butted in, allowing me to collect myself. "Anyway, just wondering. We are quite new here, so are there any particular sights you would recommend?"
"Oh I see. There will be a tournament which will be held shortly, follow the crowds and you will find your way."
"Thank you," the Doctor answered, looking quite pleased with the knights response.
The Doctor started to move off but stopped when he realised I wasn't moving. I have to be honest, I was still gawking at the knight. The knight looked down at me, looking puzzled. I coughed, trying to regain myself.
"Well um. Thank you. Kind sir," I attempted, only gaining an even more perplexed look. I gave a small nod before scurrying next to the Doctor.
"Kind sir?" He mocked. "Completely wrong time period."
"Oh shut up."
We walked around for some time, looking at some stalls, listening to farmers rant about their crops, and others going on about some riots happening in the area. But there seemed to be this continuous buzz, like they all had something to be doing, some role to fulfill.
"Well would you look at that?" The Doctor stated as we entered a small churchyard. I watched him approach the centre of the courtyard. I swear my heart just about jumped out of my throat, for there in the centre, was a sword embedded in a stone. I stood there frozen, my eyes wide as I took it in. I hurried over to the Doctor, just as he pulled his glasses out and placed them on. He moved around the sword, examining it.
"Is it the real thing? I thought it was just a legend, I mean magic isn't real right? It's just an illusion."
"Apparently not," the Doctor muttered. "Whoso pulleth out this sword from this stone, is right wise King born of all England."
I leaned over and saw those words embedded in the stone, my breath escaping me.
We both stood there gawking at it in awe.
"You gonna pull it out?" I asked, not once taking my sights off the sword.
"Only Arthur can pull it out," he replied.
"You gonna try pulling it out for the heck of it?" I rephrased.
He looked down at me, a wide smile spreading across his face.
"You go first," he said.
I took a nervous breath, stepping forwards. There we only a few people around us, not paying any attention. I watched them nervously, feeling as if I was about to commit a crime.
I took a deep breath, and with shaking hands I gripped the hilt of the sword, tingles running down my arm. I was touching the sword, the actual sword in the stone.
Tightening my grip, I pulled, my whole body tensing as I exerted all my strength. I staggered back, catching my breath as I stared at the sword, still in it's place. I turned my head to the Doctor who had a slight smile on his face.
"Yep. It's the real deal," I breathed heavily. I stood back up straight, shaking my hands out.
"Your turn."
He walked over, placing his glasses back in his chest pocket. He gave me an excited smile, before placing his hands on the swords hilt like I had done before. He propped a foot up on the stone and pulled. I stifled a scream as the sword came free, the Doctor, a panicked look on his face as he held the sword.
"Jesus you broke it. Put it back quick, before someone notices," I hissed.
He fumbled, trying to place it back in, both our nerves on edge. It slotted back in and we moved a clear distance away from it, both staring at it wide eyed.
"Doctor," I said, my words escaping me.
"Well," he answered, just as stunned as me.
While we stood there like fish out of water, people started to flow through, all heading in one direction. One of them was a young boy around my age, his blonde hair windswept as if he'd been running. He looked around, his gaze focusing on the sword. He approached it, his oversized clothes getting in the way. He gripped the hilt and pulled, the sword coming free with ease, causing him to stumble back.
"He just pulled out the sword," someone said, people looking back, all the attention now on him. He looked around, somewhat confused.
"What is your name boy?" A man cried approaching him.
"Um. Arthur," he stuttered.
"Long live King Arthur," the man cried, the crowd around him shouting with him.
"Doctor is there a chance you just loosened it?"
"That very well may be."
"Your the true King of England."
"Well. As far as the legends go, Arthur does a fine job."
"Hate to remind you but he died."
"Well. Long live King Arthur."
"Yep."
A/N: Sorry how late this is.
Hope you enjoyed this chapter, tell me what you think. :)