A/N: Howdy! I'm flying solo at the moment, as my partner in crime has departed for a far off land(though not so far that a TARDIS is required to get there). I hope you enjoy this newest installment after an immensely long, unannounced hiatus. This one's pretty grand, I'd say. So read, digest, let me know what you think. I'll see you at the bottom! ~O

"Are you alright, Princess?"

Rose hesitantly opened her eyes to reveal Prince Ezra'a's cheerful, if nervous, face.

Ezra'a was the first alien Rose had seen with short hair. Well, short in relation to everyone else's hair, which tumbled off their shoulders and down their backs. Ezra'a's hair nearly reached his shoulders in toffee and caramel waves, with one braid framing the right side of his face. He had just a hint of sideburns which washed away into a cleanly shaven square jaw, ever so nicely complementing his half-grin, reminiscent of the Doctor's boyish smile. His face was covered in dark freckles, dancing around his eyes and nose in little patterns so intricate that she wondered if perhaps they were tattooed onto his skin. Though he was darker than she, Rose thought it a bit strange how pale his skin was considering the harsh environment in which he lived. His countenance wasn't at all fierce, unlike everyone else she had met on this planet. She could tell that he smiled often, given that there were crinkles around his earthy brown eyes, hooded by thick, dark eyebrows, easily raised in order to tease or question.

He certainly was taller than the Doctor; Rose had to look up about a foot to meet his gaze. Admittedly, he had an impressive countenance, and Rose became keenly aware of her own sloppy posture. She pushed her shoulders back and straightened her legs, trying to give off any kind of air of royalty that she could. The prince's grin widened, betraying his thoughts.

"Hello," she offered with a breathy laugh, still shielding her eyes.

"Hello," Prince Ezra'a replied.

"Hello," Rose replied once more. She quickly shook her head. "Sorry, there was 'hello' twice there. Dull, but, you know, thorough."

Out of her peripheral, she could swear one of the guards cracked a smile.

"So, you're the infamous Princess Nekoda?"

"Well, that's what I keep hearing," she returned. It was a carefully truthful answer; not that Rose was opposed to lying, but she wasn't entirely sure where she was supposed to go with this little charade, and it was best to play it safe until she could consult with the Doctor again. Her eyes adjusted to the light, and she dropped her hand to her side.

"Well, um, it's very nice to meet you formally, Princess, especially since, well," Prince Ezra'a chuckled nervously and his smile faded quickly, as if he had just remembered something.

Ah. So, the Prince wasn't sure of this arranged marriage either. Or he wasn't sure of Nekoda's feelings toward the situation. Rose didn't know if he'd been told how the Princess had vehemently refused the marriage and had run away, but if he did, this made the predicament all the more convoluted. She'd have to gain his trust, maybe even his affection, in order to remain in the royal family's good graces. However, first thing's first.

"Oh, absolutely, Prince Ezra'a! It certainly is a pleasure to meet you. Have you met the rest of my Leinedite entourage? The Doctor perhaps? He's my manservant and during last night's, um, introduction, I'm afraid he was carried off somewhere by some of your guards."

"I'm afraid I have not had the pleasure of making his acquaintance." Ezra'a's entire demeanor, his disarmingly open face, conveyed a level of sincerity that comforted Rose. Maybe he had nothing to do with the Doctor being taken away. Maybe it was standard procedure. "I'm sure you'll see him again soon. Our customs specialists are most likely just showing him the way things are done around here." Rose's concern melted away when he grinned. "There's no need to worry."

"Well, that's quite kind of you all. I think I myself probably need a few lessons here and there in Vasiior's culture." Rose glanced quickly at the rainforest surrounding them. "It certainly is different."

The skin around Ezra'a's eyes crinkled. Rose knew that look. That's the same look the Doctor got whenever he had an idea. She felt her own mind thrill in response.

"Well, if it's nothing to you, princess, I think a tour would do you some good. And what better guide than the prince himself?" Leaning in to bring his lips close to her ear, he whispered, "I know all the best places to get in trouble." With a wink, he offered his arm to her, and Rose bit down on her lip to hide her excitement.

"I suppose I can fit you into my busy schedule." She gladly took his arm, all the while reminding herself to breathe. Whether she was merely growing accustomed to her new environment or it was something in the way Ezra'a's expression was entirely reminiscent of her favourite madman, Rose did not know; whatever the case, she felt her trepidation leave her mind and began to focus on being a princess.

Meanwhile, back in the hovel...

Even the rock wall which had been serving as his head rest seemed to have turned against him. What was once delightfully cold and uncomfortable, fitting perfectly with the rest of the very bad no good situation he was in, now seemed cozy enough to dream upon. If the Doctor was not so averse to sitting still and doing nothing at all in general, he might have forgotten his predicament for an hour or two and succumbed to a rest from his whirling mind, kept busy by futilely drawing together plans and subsequently dashing them to pieces. But he is the Doctor and he can't stand sitting still and he especially can't do nothing at all when his companion may very well be in danger. If he could just figure out why exactly the queen had called him and where the real princess had gone, the whole situation could be explained away as a big misunderstanding. No war. No marriage. Crisis averted. Well, maybe. He was in somewhat of a crisis at the moment.

Whatever the circumstance, he needed a way out of the hovel. And with the guards not speaking to or even acknowledging him, it became apparent to him that perhaps some level of violence needed to be implemented. Not actual violence, no punching or kicking. He didn't know much about that, nor did he care for it. Roughhousing was more like it. Horseplay, perhaps. Shenanigans, certainly. He was certain that the guards had to be changed at some point. They couldn't just do their duty indefinitely. So, when the guards were switched, he would inflict some level of shenanigans upon them, and they would be distracted and disoriented, and he could scuttle on out of his hovel and make his way to Rose. Good plan. He just had to bide his time. And of course he could do that, being a Time Lord and all. Should be simple enough.

After forever, he did, in fact, hear the guards shuffling about. He grinned. He was that much closer to seeing Rose. He saw the wooden door to the hovel open up, and the guards' relaxed a bit. The Doctor tried to crouch down, "tried" being the operative word. In the art of pouncing, he was out of practice. He wasn't sure if his exact position was optimal for the desired effect. While he was concentrating on placing his feet and hands where he thought they should be, someone spoke. The Doctor was a bit startled, seeing as not a single soul had spoken to him in the past twenty-four hours. He looked up to find a Vasorian man, short and stocky, with quite a hefty moustache, jabbering away at the guards, scolding them for not taking better care of the Doctor. He was their guest, after all. What was he doing over in the corner, looking at his hands and feet? Had they fed him? Before the guards even had a chance to answer his questions, he shooed them away and turned his attention to the Doctor.

"I'm Theophilus Fefra'an, High Customs Official here in Vasiior. Apparently, Prince Ezra'a's become aware of your current living arrangements and isn't incredibly pleased with it, and your Princess Nekoda is anxious to see you." At this news, the Doctor stood up tall and straightened his bow tie with feigned nonchalance. "Frankly, I'm not entire sure why those bloody Leneidites threw you into this rat hole, it certainly was not ordered by a Vasioran. It's completely against our hospitality policy. As such, the Royal Family offers their condolences to you for your treatment, and they wish to make it up to you by inviting you to their dinner tonight."

"A dinner? Love a good dinner. Haven't had one of those in about a day. That'll be nice. I tend to get along well with royals." The Doctor was grinning ear to ear, partly because he was going to be released from his hovel, partly because he was eager to eat food, and partly because Rose was anxious to see him again. That wasn't against the rules, right? He was allowed to be excited to see his companion, and she him. Especially after being separated from her for this long without knowing where she was or her state of being. That wasn't necessarily romantic. No problems there, right?

As the Doctor sauntered out of the hovel into the striking Vasioran sunlight, blast it all if he cared to answer.

A/N: Look at that, I keep my promises. Here I am, and here you are, at the bottom! My greatest wish is that our number of reviews after this chapter will be raised to meet the number of favourites we have received[just to change it up a bit]. As I am all on my own for this next chapter, I will draw my motivation from your response. As always, thank you for reading! ~O