Ch. 2

~The Manor House~

The Doctor spun around on one heel, coat flapping madly. Automatically he angled his body in front of Clara's as he sought the source of the shout.

The owner of the booming voice was not difficult to spot since, not only was he standing ten feet away, he was also wearing golden armor and aiming a spear at them. The tip of the spear crackled with electricity, shooting off orange sparks. The man was clearly a member of the Royal Guard, locally known as The Black Thorns - or at least they had been the last time he was here. They were the personal attendants of Devronix's chief ruling family.

That meant this had to be Devronix Alpha, the power center of their solar system. It was the smallest planet by far and owned solely by the Laton family dynasty. The Laton's ruled above all kings and queens throughout the system for nearly 500 years. The under-kings paid them tribute in exchange for their ability to keep peace between the many provinces.

The Doctor had never met anyone from the family personally, but he had heard quite a bit about them the last time he wandered across their empire. By most accounts the Laton's made sure justice was dealt swiftly and without mercy. He'd also heard the whole lot of them were mad, but a lot of people said that about kings.

"You do not have authorization to be on this world." The guard said, eyes flashing a warning.

"Authorization?" Clara repeated stepping forward, a little crease formed between her brows. He knew that crease well. "You have to get permission to visit planets now?"

"Not to worry, chap." The Doctor cried cheerfully whipping out his psychic paper from an inside pocket. He waved it in front of the guard's face. "See we are completely authorized."

Reading the paper, the guard immediately snapped to attention dropping the threatening demeanor. "Apologies, Sir."

"Peachy." The Doctor muttered turning over the paper to see whatever was on it this time. Apparently today they were Sir Doctor and Lady Clara, ambassadors from the planet Calumina in the neighboring system. At least it stopped trying to tell everyone he was a traveling magician.

"Your Lordship will need a visitor's tag to prevent any further confusion with the scanners. Your lady wife will need one as well."

The man bowed in deference to Clara who raised an eyebrow but did not object to the title. She probably would once the guard was out of earshot though.

"If you will allow me to escort you to the Imperial House, I can get you your tags." The guard continued.

Lacking any other options they followed the guard to a waiting carriage, which ran on some kind of antigravity propulsion. The guard gave a voice command once they were inside then it needed no further assistance.

Overcome with curiosity, Clara spent the ride staring out the small window straining to see as much of this world as she could. The pale gold sky silhouetted her delicate features. He could see the weight of all he had put her through recently even in her profile. The Doctor did not know how to make up for that, or if he should even try to.

After twisting through the winding cobbled streets a grand manor house came gradually into view. It was situated on a slight hill above the rest of the city. Four stories of clay brickwork with fluted columns and arched windows were at the center of a series of tiered gardens. A riot of colorful flowers and fruits made the house seem almost plain in comparison. It was a surprisingly modest villa for the rulers of an entire solar system.

From the questioning glance Clara shot him she seemed to be thinking the same.

The carriage rolled to a stop at the front entryway. There was a wide crushed gravel path cutting through the gardens leading up to the large main doors. The guard, whom the Doctor had already mentally started calling Hard Hat, offered Clara his arm as an escort. He looked mildly besotted.

"Well you're a proper gentleman, yeah." Clara grinned taking the offered arm.

From her tone the Doctor got the impression she was taking a jab at him. That was unfair. He acted like a gentleman… occasionally. Okay, so maybe he had shown up at her door dressed as a mad monk and basically begged her to run away with him. Then proceeded to place her in a series of dangerous and compromising positions. She might actually have a point.

The Doctor skulked after the pair of them towards the manor and past the multitude of other guards.

Clara was somewhat alarmed to discover Visitor's Tags meant microchips embedded subcutaneously in the wrist. It made her think they did not want guests much, since what's a better deterrent for visitors than jabbing them with a long needle.

An attendant (nurse? She wasn't sure) injected her and the Doctor with a level of bored apathy which would put the earth medical community to shame. Now every time she passed a scanner it read 'Lady Clara Oswald' and the Doctor was 'Sir Doctor Oswald' which sounded ridiculous.

"So why are we married now?" Clara asked him pointedly after they were shown to the chambers reserved for visiting dignitaries.

The Doctor flopped down on the oversized bed and nearly disappeared into the mattress. It deflated like a beanbag knocking him over backwards. She couldn't suppress a laugh as he struggled to right himself.

"Social niceties." He huffed trying to act like nothing had just happened. "Around these parts they'd probably clap me in irons for escorting an unmarried woman alone."

"Well that's a bit sexist."

He shrugged making a face. "Most cultures have a tendency to marry off twelve year old noble girls to thirty or forty year old men."

Clara smirked. "So then we won't stand out."

"I don't look that much older than you!"

"Yes you do."

He glared peevishly at her but dropped the subject. The silver hair was still strange to her when just weeks ago he had been a young man who acted like a child. The Doctor still acted like a child. He was the same though, underneath it all, the same man she had chosen to follow to the ends of the earth.

The man who would do the impossible for her his impossible girl.

"What are you thinking?" The Doctor asked, watching her curiously.

"Only that I'm probably a bit underdressed for court." Clara indicated her exposed legs with a comic grimace. The other women would probably all going to be wearing jeweled ball gowns or something.

"Check the wardrobes there's likely something in them." He waved dismissively at the two ornately carved cabinets in the corner of the room.

Clara seriously doubted these people simply left clothes lying around in the guest rooms or, even less likely, that they would fit her human size. Happy to prove the ever smug man wrong about something Clara crossed the room and pulled open one of the wardrobes.

Inside the antique looking piece of furniture were a virtual computer and a large white box. Curious she pressed the 'start' button on the screen. Suddenly the golden beam of a laser scanner shot from the computer making her jump in alarm. It ran over her entire body. The computer beeped and a moment later her measurements and ID appeared on the screen.

The words 'Select Style' popped up beside them. "Okay this is cool."

Clara clicked on the image of a dark blue gown with a fitted bodice and watched in amazement as the garment printed itself to her exact measurements inside the white box.

"This is almost as good as the TARDIS." She gushed pulling it out and holding it up to a mirror.

"Don't let her catch you saying that." The Doctor muttered. "Now let's go, this room is boring."

She rolled her eyes. "You can wait five seconds while I change." Clara admonished walking towards the on-suit bath while he groaned in exasperation.