CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
The Doctor stood in the console room, straightening his jacket and glancing at his hair long enough to pat it down into some reasonable definition of tame as he powered down the TARDIS. It was Wednesday and he was early as usual, but then Clara had never complained, he grinned making his way towards the doors when he heard the knock on them. He opened it roughly half expecting to find Strax outside, wanting to bother him with talk of past glories when all he really wanted to do was find his wife. As it was, said wife was instead standing outside the door, looking both sheepish and excited, delectable as ever though, he wasn't quite sure how but she seemed to make even Victorian fashion seem suggestive to him.
"Clara?" he asked, unable to keep the smile from splitting his features but managing to phrase it as a question none the less. She hadn't been so much as within several feet of his TARDIS since she'd chosen to 'separate' herself temporarily from him.
"My dear Doctor." She replied with a smirk, sliding into the TARDIS and past him, her fingers tracing along his chest and leaving a burning trail where they touched as she slowly made her way into the console room. But she hadn't answered his unasked question he noted.
"I was just coming up to see you, I've had a thought about what we could do today..." he trailed off seeing her fingers brushing the buttons and levers of the console with a fondness and reverence only he normally used on them as she leant in close to whisper something to the sentient machine that had it all but purring. The woman could flirt with anything he noted admiringly.
Clara glanced back up at him, noticing his clearly hesitant behaviour as he hovered in the doorway watching her with rapt attention. "I was hoping we might go somewhere in the TARDIS today." She asked him softly, leaning back against the console and staring at him evenly as he felt his heartbeat quicken, knowing she'd be aware of it too.
"Oh?" he questioned, shutting the door and stepping up towards her and trying not to sound like the hopeful fool he apparently still was. "Did you have somewhere particular in mind?" he thought it best not to broach the subject of her apparent desire to be inside their home again, lest he disturb the notion. He closed the distance between them and slid his arms around her waist, holding her lightly as she cocked her head in that way which meant he wasn't going to like what she was about to convince him to do.
"I've been reading a lot recently, Vastra and Jenny have quite the library." She added, her hand going out to trace the smooth buttons on his jacket, her eyes on them and not on him. "The Classic's mostly, some Old English Folk Tales..."
He frowned sensing the incoming. "Out with it." He murmured leaning in to kiss her jaw, wondering if this was what it was to be 'wrapped around her little finger'.
"I want to go see Robin Hood." She whispered, pressing a kiss to his smoothly shaven chin her fingers tracing it with a smirk that he'd clearly listened to her plea to end the 'hobo' look before spinning away from him with a coquettish laugh.
The Doctor closed his mouth, watching her twirl in almost giddy excitement at the prospect. "A man in tights." He deadpanned and she narrowed her gaze at him that did nothing to dent her smirk. "He's a myth." He added with no small amount of scorn.
"A legend actually." Clara sighed. "A dashing hero from a bygone time. I'm sure the two of you will get along famously." He only picked up the faintest hint of irony from her on that which mildly surprised him, a small bitter internal voice mocked that she had no idea how far from hero he would describe himself. But then he wasn't all that bothered about being anyone's hero but hers.
The Doctor felt his lips twist into something close to irritation. "Except that I'm real and he's very much... not." He bit out.
Clara rolled her eyes. "How about you try aiming this lovely box of yours in the general vicinity and see if She can come up with something Robin Hood shaped."
"He doesn't exist." He got the impression he was talking to himself here and he almost buried his face in his palms with exasperation.
"Prove it." She challenged, grasping his hand and pulling him gently over to the controls.
He couldn't quite keep the exasperated look on his face when she was exuding such enthusiasm, the fact that she was back in the TARDIS at all was enough to make him almost close to giddy himself, if she wanted Robin Hood he supposed he damn well better find her something like it if it was at all possible. So he slid behind her and guided her hands over the controls, lowering his head to her ear. "How about you take us there." He murmured, drawing her ear into his mouth and nibbling lightly as she pressed back into him. "12th Century...ish." he added, guiding her hand towards the appropriate setting, finesse was a skill she often had in abundance but not quite with the TARDIS he'd noted, although the Old Girl never had made it easy for her. The machine whirled, the vortex depositing them somewhere he hoped was in the appropriate time period as Clara guided the destination to England, Nottingham, Sherwood Forest. The TARDIS landed and the engines cut out. He reached over her swinging the scanner around for them both to look. "Well we're here, let's see if this hero of yours is." He kissed her neck but she turned in his arms, her hand going to his chest with a coy smirk.
"Oh no, I've been stuck in Victorian fashion for months, if I'm going out there I'm going to be period appropriate." The look she gave him suggested she expected him to do the same, he leant forward and captured her chin with his finger, pressing a light kiss to her lips.
"I won't be wearing tights my Love, no matter how persuasive you are." The woman actually had the nerve to smirk, sliding past him to aim a particularly hard swat to his ass that had him gripping the console to stop himself from chasing after her and returning the favour.
"Pity they'd really show off that tight little bottom! At least try and look less like a magician." She called back as she sauntered off into the depths of his ship to locate the wardrobe and he couldn't help but let the smile slide onto his face. The TARDIS gave a brush against his subconscious which was as close to her approval as he'd come in some time, he glanced up at the chair that had become his makeshift bed and the table beside it. With an uneasy sigh he headed for it retrieving the offending bottle from it and removing the evidence of just how poorly he was coping without his wife. It was ridiculous he considered as he moved about the ship, the urge to take a swig of the liquid almost making his hands shake with need, so he found the kitchen and attempted to find something else to quench his thirst. The closest he found was a tub of what he was certain couldn't be his vanilla ice cream, despite the fact that Clara wouldn't have touched the stuff unless it had the word 'chocolate' in it, he'd have preferred maybe some rum and raisin. Hell who was he kidding he'd have preferred his bottle... but he was trying to at least appear to be holding his composure without her and it probably had been a while since he ate anything, the sugar would help. He retrieved the largest spoon he could find and retreated back to his leather backed seat, easing into it and without an inch of decorum shoving the spoon into the tub. Comfort eating at his age? He wondered what exactly that said about him, pining over a woman who'd been alive little more than a blink to him. Pathetic.
Of course said woman chose to sashay into the console room and he felt his breath catch as his eyes traced every curve the flowing red dress clung to, the plunge of the neckline the trim that hugged her hips. He shifted uncomfortably feeling his trousers tighten as he held the spoon foolishly to his open mouth, not quite able to make his brain finish the movement when she looked up at him. Her hair had grown longer he noticed in her absence, it tumbled around her in rivulets now that she had gently curled, further softening her features. Suddenly the idea of pining after this woman made perfect sense again.
"What do you think?" she asked twirling lightly for him, the flash of the metal circlet she had placed through her hair and over her forehead drawing his attention as he stood slowly.
"Breathtaking." He murmured.
She sauntered closer to him, perfectly aware he imagined of how delectable she looked, it probably helped that he no doubt looked like he'd been struck over the head repeatedly with something heavy.
"Period appropriate?" she was in arms reach now and he itched to reach out and touch her, realising for the first time that he still had an iron grip on the spoon. Why was it always her in red that proved to be his undoing? Suddenly sat here in his seat watching her approach him he realised how hollow his attempts to replicate even her image had been.
"Not in the least." He managed his voice a little hoarse as he let his eyes trace her form now she was closer, her eyebrow quirked in question, clearly she'd tried very hard to find something authentic in all the TARDIS had to offer in 12th Century period wear. He cleared his throat, shoving the spoon into his breast pocket to free up both his hands as he reached for her waist, becoming particularly aware of just how tiny she was as he towered over her, his large hands sliding around her waist. "You are an extraordinary beauty my dear in your own time... here and now, you are practically ethereal. We will have next to no chance of blending in unnoticed."
She rewarded him with a long searing kiss as she tugged the back of his head down and he couldn't help the groan that her actions elicited as he felt her thigh quite deliberately brush his hardening length. His hands wandered and he pulled back surprised when he felt metal, he pulled the offending item into his eyeline. "A sword?" he questioned, examining the one she had strapped around her waist in a delicate scabbard held behind her to conceal it at first glance.
Clara merely shrugged, reaching back to pull the offending item from its leather holder and drew it out, it was small, delicate clearly designed for a woman, but long and sharp enough that it would kill someone as well as any broadsword. "Everyone carries a sword in this time period." She told him quite confidently.
"Men." He corrected. "And besides we're here for Robin Hood, I'd have thought you'd have gone for the bow and arrow."
Clara held the sword deftly in her hand, her grip firm, "Yes but I doubt I could hit the broad side of a bus with a bow and arrow... this I can handle."
The Doctor quirked a disbelieving eyebrow at her, he'd never seen her pick up so much as a pocket knife, now she was going to wield a sword capable of lopping something he wouldn't grow back off? But her features were set, teasing almost, daring him to call her on this. "You're going to put someone's eye out." He rose to the challenge and her lips curled up as she stepped away from him and back down to the console, sliding around it, the sword out as she assumed a perfect riposte, glaring back up at him.
"We'll see." She challenged, beckoning him forward with a crooked and highly seductive little finger.
The Doctor never had been one to back down from a challenge, sword or not as he stalked towards her deliberately flicking out his jacket so that the red lining flashed catching her eye, his hands went into his pockets and he retrieved his own concession to 'period appropriate' wear, slipping on the leather gloves and delighting in the way her eyes lingered on them with clear interest.
"You intend to disarm me with your bare hands?" she taunted, the sword still pointing at him as she held her position, her form far too practiced he noticed as he took in the line of her arm and her feet. Someone had clearly been instructing her.
He eyed her levelly, "No, I intend to disarm you with my spoon." He replied with a flourish retrieving the offending item from his jacket pocket and brandishing it in front of him. It was long enough he surmised to offer adequate defence.
"Midnight snacking?" she teased eyeing the spoon with clear mockery.
"En guard." He barked, giving her no more warning than that as he lunged forwards swinging the ridiculous spoon. It became quickly apparent to him as she not only defended from getting wrapped on the back by the flat side of his spoon but managed to avoid damaging him, that she'd had more than a little instruction. She landed a glancing blow across his backside that had him smarting as he danced away from her.
"Should I be thanking Madame Vastra for instructing you so well in the fine art of swordplay?"
Clara smirked, stalking closer to him and forcing him to defend again, deciding that brute strength might be his better option using his height against her as he caught her wrist and shoved her bodily into the console, holding the dangerous arm to the side as she struggled briefly until he pushed his entire body into her, attempting to hold her still with that.
"Jenny actually." She replied, looking up at him her impossibly large eyes blinking almost innocently back. "But I'm afraid she's something of a fan of playing dirty, what with being only human after all." He had a moment to consider her words before he found himself on his back winded and staring up at the blade that was quite deliberately close to nicking the skin beneath his chin as she forced him to stare up at her. Not that he needed encouragement to look at her, he hadn't taken his eyes off her since she'd swept back into their home.
"Do you yield?" she pressed her delicate boot clad foot against his wrist forcing him to release his 'weapon' as the blade moved higher forcing him to tilt his head back.
"To you?" he asked breathless still from his abrupt landing on his back, she waited her eyebrow arched perfectly at him, expectant. "Always." He promised, her hand waivered slightly responding to his own dirty trick and he took the advantage, wrenching the blade out of her grasp and tossing it aside as he shot up, wrapping his arms around her legs and all but throwing her over his shoulder as she shrieked in clear outrage and he chuckled darkly.
"Cheat." She snarled, swatting his back from her position and attempting to wiggle herself free of his grasp.
"Merely utilising my own not so insignificant wiles." He corrected. "Am I to blame that you are so easily distracted by me?"
"Yes." She muttered, falling still. "But you are not ripping these clothes off me, it took me forever to put them on." She snapped and he deposited her on her feet in front of the console with what on him was as close to a pout as he could manage. Apparently she had no problem interpreting where his mind had gone. "Men and their swords." She tutted in exasperation, glancing at the considerable one his trousers were only just concealing.
He leant in close, crowding her space as his hands pressed against the console edge, caging her in with his body. "What if I promise to be careful." He rasped, lowering his head to her neck, and tracing lower down across her ample breast which was almost so tauntingly on display. "I won't so much as damage a seam." He promised certain he'd break it.
Clara tutted, "Or a button perhaps?" she queried lifting her hand and pushing his head back to show him the offending item she had resting on her palm. He stared at it scandalised before stepping back and examining his precious coat, finding the damaged thread where she had clearly sliced it from without him even noticing.
He raised his eyes to hers, impressed and irritated, he loved this coat. "Wicked wife." He hissed, charging her again, she put up a half hearted attempt at darting away from him, but as he wrapped her in his arms and sealed his mouth over hers he felt her all but melt into him. It was a feeling he was certain he'd never get used to, or fail to appreciate.
"Console." She murmured against his lips, half dragging him towards it by his belt as she hastily worked it through her fingers and he knew better than to ask questions as he followed her almost blindly as her tongue flicked lightly against his mouth. This time it was his back that hit the console not hers and he was the one trapped by her body, she pulled back from his lips to give him one searing look before she dropped to her knees and he let out a half strangled sound at just the idea of it as her deft hands freed him of his restrictive clothing.
"What about the dress?" he gasped as her soft hands stroked the length of him with just the right amount of pressure. She didn't answer and he lost the ability to form words when her mouth replaced her hands and his legs almost buckled until he was forced to grip the console tightly just to keep himself upright. He felt elation and something close to wonder bubbling up inside of his chest as her hot, wet mouth sucked him. He was thousands of years old, it was hardly the first set of lips he'd had around his cock and yet whenever it was hers it was somehow so much more than just sex, it seemed impossible to him that all his vast intellect, the power he possessed could be so utterly undone by the sight of her on her knees as he disappeared into her mouth.
"Clara." He all but sobbed, his hand cupping her face but not daring or needing to pull her closer as she took in more of him than he thought possible, her tongue dancing around the head as she sucked particularly hard, her hand rising to increase his torment as she grasped his balls and made his eyes roll back. She wanted him to come like this he realised dimly as she set every nerve ending he had on fire, unrelenting in her torment as he shuddered, straining every ounce of his control to prevent the inevitable, wanting it to last. But her mouth was wicked and he bucked sharply at her insistence letting out a cry of elation his eyes snapping down to her wide brown ones that were fixed on his face as he came violently into her mouth. She didn't stop sucking him as he shuddered his body thrusting lightly into her until he was finally spent, her eyes were bright with mischief and lust and he lowered his hand to brush her cheek as she gently removed him from her mouth, pressing a lingering kiss to the softening length. With as much care as she had removed him she slipped him back into his trousers and zipped him back up, readjusting his belt and gracefully sliding her chest along his body as she got to her feet.
He didn't trust himself to speak as she reached up and brushed his cheek, leaning up to press a lingering kiss there.
"Shall we go find our elusive Outlaw?" she asked, her look both satisfied and coy, but she didn't even have a hair out of place whilst he was still a trembling mess, he imagined he looked thoroughly flushed and debauched.
"Good God woman." He rasped, running his hands over his face and trying to regain some semblance of composure. "And here I thought I'd lost the duel."
She laughed lightly, reaching for his hand and tugging him closer. "Come on Doctor, let's go Medieval."
The poor man was still shell shocked she realised lightly as he caught himself from stumbling yet again in the dense forest, it was certainly more 'foresty' than she recalled Sherwood Forest being when she'd visited as a child. It was a little surprising after all it was hardly the first time she'd taken him in her mouth, but then most of those times had been with his previous self and never quite so... charged. But then again she'd also found it so much more arousing with this version of him, he had such a composed air, so controlled, the idea that she could make him come apart so beautifully did more than a little for her ego. That and if she was brutally honest with herself she preferred that particular part of his anatomy on this version, both the taste, feel and size of him, she'd always thought this version sexually had been custom built for her, nearly 6 months on and she had yet to be swayed from that particular line of thought.
"Your smugness is radiating." He whispered as he brushed past her, taking her arm to help her over a particularly boggy stretch of mud and roots.
Clara merely smirked. "Don't tell me you don't like me smug." He opened his mouth to speak and they both jerked as an arrow embedded itself in the tree mere millimetres from his head. Clara's head shot around and her eyes widened in surprise to find a group of men pointing clearly working bows and arrows at them. Not a pair of tights in sight.
"Gentleman... now what do we have here?" the one who'd shot the arrow declared, his tone gruff as Clara eyed him, taking in what she thought would probably have been an attractive face behind the grime and filthy leather getup. His long hair was a nearly matted mess and she suspected as she caught sight of his smile that he had a mouthful of rotten teeth hidden by a stringy beard.
"Oh God tell me that's not Robin Hood." Clara managed quietly, but all eyes snapped to her, the Doctor's included as he looked between the two of them.
"What did you expect... it's the 12th Century and he lives in a forest, you were hardly going to run into Errol Flynn out here." The Doctor muttered and she watched him surreptitiously check his pocket, no doubt for his screwdriver.
"My dear Lady, you've heard of me, I'm flattered." The outlaw that seemed to be the Robin Hood she'd been hoping to find all but leered at her and pointedly aimed his bow with an arrow cocked at the Doctor's head. "Empty your pockets Sir, or this next arrow will end up between your eyes and then where would that leave your lovely daughter, out her alone in the woods with men like us." The sudden danger clearly reached the Doctor more than her, she was more affronted by the idea that she was being seen as his 'daughter'.
In irritation and no small amount of disappointment having finally met her hero only to find this unwashed letch in his place, she gave him a dark pointed look and turned grasping the Doctor by the back of his head and crashed her lips against his long enough for them to get the idea as she turned her head to glare at him. "Don't threaten my husband." She bit back.
The outlaw merely smirked and tipped the point of his grubby pointed cap, "Apologies my dear, perhaps then you could do us the favour of emptying his pockets for him."
"We have nothing of value." The Doctor replied quietly, his soft but dangerous tone drawing back their attention with ease as she watched Robin seem to reassess him, she realised uneasily that the man wasn't a fool and he could sense the threat of the Doctor clearly and wasn't going to give him a moment's leeway to try something clever.
There was a rustle of bitter amused laughter and comments that came from the group of men surrounding them, Clara counted five. Although one man was tall and wide enough that she couldn't be sure she hadn't counted him twice. The Doctor however still stood taller than the majority of them, a fact he seemed to enjoy as he stood straighter, his leather gloves clearly gripped around his concealed screwdriver. The calm expression on his face made her suspect that it possibly wasn't the 'sonic' kind and she sighed, she should have known he'd find a way to retrieve the damn laser one eventually.
"It would seem Sir, that your definition of value and ours differs somewhat." Robin pointed out this time drawing his sword and brandishing it with easy skill born of necessity that Clara could just about recognise and had enough sense to be concerned over. Robin stalked closer the arrows of his men not lowering their aim on either of them as he pointed the sword quite deliberately at her chest, just a breath from nicking her skin. She felt the Doctor bristle and she tried to catch his eye pleading with him to not disintegrate Robin Hood of all people. "Remove your jacket, the boots, the gloves... and empty your pockets. Or I will use this sword to disrobe your wife." On second thoughts Clara considered maybe if he just aimed the screwdriver at one of the men surrounding them.
"Don't threaten my wife you unwashed cretin, you have no idea who you are dealing with." The Doctor threatened, taking a menacing step forward, another arrow embedded itself in the tree behind him, he didn't flinch but she noticed the feint trickle of blood run down his ear clearly having caught him on the way past. Robin moved closer and she moved to go for her own sword, finding his hand clamped hard down around her wrist as he slid behind her, putting her body between him and the Doctor as the blade slid to her throat.
"I don't much care who you are. Let's not make this unpleasant, I have a bounty on my head large enough to dwarf whatever valuables you think you are holding. Or does your beautiful young wife mean so little to you?" Robin's tone was all taunt and she knew the Doctor would rise to it.
Clara watched the Doctor's eye twitch and she realised Robin was about to be vaporised. She was doing it to preserve history she told herself as she slammed her fisted hand back into the Outlaw's groin, the obvious reaction being that the sword he had held to her throat bit deep and she felt the cut of it. She spun as his grunt loosened his grip giving her wiggle room and shoved him hard before quickly drawing her own sword, not slowed by the blood flowing from the ugly wound he'd made in her neck as she shoved her own hard against his throat. Robin had the sense to look both pained and bewildered as she redirected and jabbed at his wrist, forcing him to drop the blade he was bringing up again, and she returned hers quickly to his throat. But his eyes were fixed on what she knew was the unnerving sight of her throat emitting a feint golden glow as it healed over. The memory tugged at her painfully, the feel of a blade biting into her skin, but she pushed it away, focusing on surviving, she couldn't afford to be crippled by the horrific memories that would probably continue to haunt her for the foreseeable future.
"What are you?" Robin gasped, looking between the two of them, the Doctor was holding his screwdriver, the smooth metal object and odd lights clearly drawing his eye even from the sight of her healed skin as his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Witchcraft." He hissed and Clara's eyes darted around seeing the arrows waiver from the men gathered.
The Doctor barked out a laugh that seemed to rumble across the ground hitting each of them soundly with its darkness. "Oh trust me, right now I am the Devil!" The Doctor snarled and Clara realised that whilst she was coping with the sudden reminder of blades in her flesh he clearly wasn't.
Whatever might have happened next Clara was relieved she'd never have to find out, because their tense stand off was disrupted violently by the very real laser blast that disintegrated one of Robin's men, reducing him to ash and bone... only the shot hadn't come from the Doctor. Clara shared a look with him and he glanced at his own hand as if to make sure he had in fact not fired.
"The Sheriff's Knights!" the shout went up from one of the men and Clara felt the Doctor grasp her hand firmly, dragging her behind a tree which didn't offer much better cover as she watched the outlaws scatter.
Clara's eyes rounded on the somewhat surreal sight of armoured Knights, all in black advancing through the forest. Which was enough to get her heart rate pulsing, she didn't need the added terror of seeing their masks split open to reveal metal faces as they appeared to fire laser beams from their foreheads. "Robot Knights?" She hissed, grasping somewhat tighter onto the Doctor, robots were not something she felt she could deal with right now on top of those memories.
"Wonderful." He murmured and had the sense to wipe the excited smile off his face at her somewhat less than amused look. Clara sheathed her delicate sword and fished out the sonic she'd attached to the belt, sword or sorcery she knew which she'd pick to fight a robot. They made a relatively good go of defending themselves, certainly better than the supposedly Merry Men had evidently fared if she was judging by the shouts coming from the concealing trees. The Doctor even managed to disable one of them with his laser screwdriver before he was taken down by a none too gentle whack to the back of his head that sent him crashing to his knees and onto the floor out cold.
Clara hesitated, hovering over his prone vulnerable form, her sonic aimed at the robots who seemed to have surrounded their position. Numbers and superior firepower making this a pointless fight, but one she felt compelled to stand her ground for. The faceplate of the Knight closest opened and she felt a rush of panic, she had no desire to be disintegrated... or at least to find out if she could be. She shot her hands up in surrender. "Ok, ok you got us. No need to fire." They paused which was something she supposed, "Take me to your leader?" she tried mildly hopeful. There was the distinctive sound of a horse coming to a stop somewhere behind her and she turned slowly, looking up into the sneering face of a man in black leather, with long black hair, a neat black beard and a somewhat superior expression on his face. He was better groomed than the 'Merry Men' and she couldn't smell him from where she was stood so that was probably a good indicator that he was someone 'Leaderish'.
"Throw down the device." He instructed eyeing the sonic in her hand and not assuming it was some magic wand as the Outlaws had. The idea that he was responsible for the Robots was looking better and better.
Clara did as requested as he dismounted crossing to retrieve her sonic with easy grace as she carefully stepped in front of the fallen form of the Doctor, wanting him out of sight and hopefully mind for even a moment or two. He held it up, running his hands over the metal.
"It would seem we have something in common my dear." He eyed her shrewdly and she tried not to notice the way his gaze dropped to take in every inch of her curves the dress did little to hide. She suppressed the instinct to cross her arms over her chest.
"I take it the robots are yours?" she asked, throwing an admiring glance she didn't feel at the ones surrounding them.
"My metal men... yes." He approached one, giving it a dismissive glance and she reassessed her assumption that he'd understood what they were and so was unlikely to be an alien, or a time traveller, but rather a native who had appropriated them for his use. Instead he seemed far more interested in her, Clara smiled back at him baring the dimple to full effect and giving a gentle curtsey as she extended her hand to him.
The impulse was too delightful to squash even in this less than ideal situation, "I am the Lady Marion." She tried not to turn her soft smile into a grin, "I must thank you and your 'metal men' then, for rescuing us. I fear those Outlaws meant us harm. Might I enquire as to the name of our rescuer?" He blinked, apparently reassessing her much as she had him, he grasped her hand stepping closer into her space and drawing it to his lips to press a lingering kiss on the back of it, his eyes not leaving her face.
"I am the Sheriff of Nottingham, it is a pleasure my dear Lady to make your acquaintance I'm sure." He glanced at the fallen Doctor behind her, confirming her somewhat darker suspicions about his identity given where she was. "You're father I presume?" he added Clara merely nodded, gritting her teeth and deciding that it was infinitely safer to let this idiot think that for the time being, he was after all the one with the Robots under his control. He didn't release her hand, drawing her in closer and brushing against her side and she tried not to think about the stories she'd read when dealing with this flesh and blood version of the famous villain.
"Yes it is a dangerous place these forests, but fortunately we now have Robin Hood and his Outlaws, I imagine it will be safe for respectable folk like yourselves to pass through once more." Clara merely nodded, noticing he was quite deliberately walking them towards his horse. He stopped and swung up onto the giant thing with grace that she had to admire, until he held his hand out for her.
"I must insist you accompany me my Lady back to Nottingham Castle. Although we have the Outlaw Robin Hood, there may be more of his band of miscreants stalking these woods and you would make rather too tempting a target, as helpless as you are. I would therefore be remiss in my duty as Sheriff not to protect you." Clara hesitated, the 'helpless' comment rankled, but she accepted his outstretched hand and allowed him to pull her up onto the saddle in front of him, until she was settled practically and rather uncomfortably in his lap. Her dress didn't exactly permit anything more than that as she gripped the hand he offered to steady her.
"What about my... father?" She all but bit out the word, she knew the Doctor would be furious to think she'd actually gone along with the ruse, worse yet used that word herself to describe him.
The Sheriff glanced over at him. "Ah yes, well unfortunately it seems your father does not quite have your good sense, he attacked one of my metal men, an example has to be set." Clara froze at the implication, followed by the feel of his gloved hand against her spine, the touch just too familiar as he traced a pattern until his fingers gripped her waist, sliding her closer to him and entrapping her in his arms as he gripped the reigns. As one the Knights seemed to move at a seemingly unspoken command from him, closing the circle around the Doctor's prone form and she panicked, adrenalin fuelling her as she sparked from one idea to another, concluding that she really had no choice other than to wade into the obviously bated trap the Sheriff had apparently set for her.
"Wait please... we didn't know." His lips drew to her ear and she felt the harsh rasp of his breath.
"A precedent has been set my Lady, I could not possibly show leniency." He murmured and she turned glaring up at him, some of her pleading from moments ago giving way to a look of steel that only seemed to spark a renewed interest from him as his grip on her hip tightened.
"Please Sheriff." She offered quietly, wrapping her hand around one of his gloved ones and leaning in close as she let her eyes provocatively drop to his lips for a moment. "A man as powerful as you, surely we can come to some arrangement." She managed, the words cloying in her mouth as she said them, but what else could she do, right now the only thing she had to trade was the one thing he seemed interested in... her.
His smile was predatory. "Well, I am not without influence, perhaps there is some agreement that could be reached." He admitted and his gloved finger brushed her cheek as she suppressed the shudder. He turned to the Knights. "Put him with the others." He instructed and they grabbed the Doctor hauling him up and dragging him off to a cart they had loaded the remaining Outlaws into, all of them in similar states of unconsciousness.
"Thank you." She murmured, genuinely enough, having to tear her eyes away from the way they all but threw him into the cart like a ragdoll and focusing on the smug expression of the man that for the moment held all the cards.
He glanced back down at her. "Of course My Lady, let it never be said that the Sheriff of Nottingham was not merciful."
The ride to the castle had at least been blessedly brief, she wasn't sure she could have tolerated the way his hands wandered in the attempt to assist in keeping her 'secure' on the horse in her awkward side saddle position. It left her in no doubt as to what exactly he expected her to repay his lenience with, and just how 'grateful' she would have to be. The urge to dig her nails into the back of his hands and forcefully throw them off her with a sneer and a smart mouthed comment rose and she quashed it. Now wasn't the time when surrounded by his robots to challenge him, she needed to get him alone to stand any chance of overpowering him. So she suffered rigidly through his touches and the feel of him hard and threatening pressed against her thigh. To say today hadn't exactly lived up to her expectations would have been putting it mildly, she had quite thoroughly fallen out of love with the romantic idea of Robin Hood the folk hero. Even Victorian London was looking more appealing right now.
The Castle was fairly grand she noted ignoring the comment the Sheriff made about the 'size' of it and trying to recall what the castle had looked like back in her time and coming up blank. Her eyes snapped to the cart as they entered the courtyard and she watched as the others were hauled away by the Robot Knights, their face plates securely concealing their nature once more.
"Where are they taking him?" she turned, glancing up at the Sheriff, who was watching them go with a smirk that clearly wouldn't bode well. "You said you'd be merciful." She snapped, unable to stop the instinct to slap him as it rose, fortunately he caught her hand, preventing her from shattering whatever waif like ideal he seemed to have set for her by soundly knocking him off his horse with the force she would have put behind the blow. He gripped her wrist tightly dragging her closer into his chest and twisting just enough to make her wonder if he might snap the offending limb as she grimaced as his nose almost brushed hers with his proximity.
"Your father is alive, is he not? I promised to spare him, nothing more, for his crime he will be a guest in our dungeons until such time as I am satisfied that he poses no threat. For damaging one of my Knights the sentence should have been death, am I not being merciful?" He reminded and she tried to prise her wrist free with no luck, she couldn't even lean back for fear of falling off the damn horse, but she caught his barely subtle insinuation just fine and she grit her teeth, forcing herself to nod, because words wouldn't come. At least not the ones he wanted to hear. He slid down from the horse and she ignored his hands grateful to avoid his touch for a minute longer as she jumped down from the horse herself and landing with a thud that rattled her teeth, aware that no long term damage could be done from it.
He laughed at her, grasping her arm and slotting her alongside him as he guided her towards the castle whilst her thoughts lingered with the Doctor, she had faith in him, perhaps more so than before. He could be driven, ruthless and inventive, she hoped that would be enough to get him out of the dungeon, screwdriver or not... because currently the Sheriff held both of theirs.
His head was pounding, he blinked opening his eyes and wrinkling his nose. His head might have hurt but he considered that his nose was literally screaming at him and he engaged his respiratory bypass almost on instinct. Nothing that smelt so foul could be good. He took in the dimly lit surroundings and shifted slightly, becoming aware that he was shackled and hanging from a wall. His wrists were not faring well having supported his weight for some time and he cringed as he planted his shackled feet on the filthy floor, taking the strain and letting blood flow back into them.
The Doctor's eyes scanned the area quickly, assessing and coming to the conclusion that he was clearly in a dungeon, his internal clock informed him that he had been unconscious for a little over two hours. Time enough for Clara to have vanished. A quick precursory scan of the surroundings told him she wasn't here and his strained mental connection to her told him she was at least nearby. Given the conditions he couldn't say he was thrilled about that. The scruffy foul smelling ninny who'd called himself Robin Hood hung on the opposite wall to him in an equally useless predicament, although he was still out cold the Doctor noted with some satisfaction.
Unfortunately the chains were effective; he attempted a number of well practiced methods to free himself and came away frustrated and with even deeper embedded gouges in his skin for his troubles. Even more unfortunately the unkempt long haired ninny had decided to rouse himself.
"You!" he barked, staring at the Doctor with clear distaste. "You sorcerer. Heratic!" he snarled rattling his chains and forcing the Doctor to roll his eyes, wondering if he could hypnotise the idiot from this distance into just nodding back off again.
"Yes, yes. I'm a terrible spawn of Satan sent here to tempt the unwary into our wicked ways. But right now, we're in a dungeon, I'd imagine torture is probably on the menu. How about we focus on our mutual predicament."
Robin seemed to consider that, shutting his mouth for a moment and looking him up and down and considering the notion that they were indeed in the same situation. "What were those metallic creatures?" he asked finally, showing what the Doctor considered the first hint of rudimentary intelligence.
"Beyond your limited comprehension." The Doctor muttered.
"They were the Sheriff's Knights, but they were not human..." Robin managed, apparently not quite getting his head around the concept.
"This Sheriff of Nottingham," the Doctor reasoned, seeing the flare of the man's nostrils and the narrowing of his eyes, clear indications of rage directed at the mere name of the man. "I take it you and he are not on the best terms."
"He is a swine. A murdering, conniving bastard with delusions of grandeur who has made it his personal mission to spread misery and suffering throughout Nottingham." Robin actually spat on the already filthy ground with that piece said, adding disgusted to his clear animosity.
"By taxing... pillaging..." the Doctor filled in the blanks, seeing Robin's nod of agreement.
"And gold." Robin added finally telling him something he didn't know. "He's been scouring the countryside for it, ripping it out of the cold dead arms of anyone who opposes him."
"Right." The Doctor replied, growing bored already as he quietly made an assessment about what the precious metal might be for and applying that to his knowledge about the Robots starting to form a theory, whilst he reengaged the ninny "And you are opposing this injustice by what... stealing it back for the people?"
The look of confusion on Robin's face that settled into almost mockery was enough to let him know that clearly the 'legend' of Robin Hood was more fairytale than folk tale. "Ah, so you're just stealing it. How honourable." He managed to throw a suitable amount of scorn on that statement that he didn't necessarily feel, but Clara would be more than a little disappointed to find out the 'truth' about her hero.
Robin shrugged in his chains. "Man's got to eat. That bastard took my lands, my home and my name. He may as well keep honour cause it sure as hell ain't gonna keep me alive."
"Fair enough." The Doctor replied, reconsidering the ninny.
"He has your beautiful young wife you know." Robin cut across his thoughts with the one thing he'd been trying not to think about. The Doctor felt his lips press into a grim line and he narrowed his gaze at him, Robin had been just as unconscious as him, he had no way of knowing what had happened to Clara anymore than he did. "The man's a bastard, but he's not stupid, or blind." Robin reasoned. "He'll have her shackled to his bed posts by now to have his wicked way with. Witch or not. Why else do you think we're alive, she probably cut a deal. I guess Sheriff is a step up from grey haired stick insect playing with magic though." He was clearly trying to get a rise. Fool.
The Doctor felt his hands form fists and he forced himself to calm, Clara's heartbeat in his mind was resoundingly calm, a steady rhythm of beats that whilst a little faster than normal didn't indicate any real distress... or fury. Besides he had more faith in her than this idiot, if it was a fight between her and this Sheriff he knew who he'd back, if she chose to fight at all, she rather had a knack for dominating domineering men. Not that the idea of that helped soothe him any at all either. The chains rattled slightly and he glanced up at his hands, noticing the slight tremor to them and he forced himself to calm, the shaking stopped and he tried to ignore the incredible thirst in his throat like he'd been ignoring it for months. He was a Time Lord this was simple biology, of purging the toxins from his body that were trying to convince him he had managed to addict himself to that ridiculous drink; he would not be felled by it, not now when he needed to focus on getting out of these damn chains. Besides his addiction had nothing to do with alcohol and everything to do with the woman he was in this God forsaken Century for.