Tales, Ch. 5
River and the Doctor made their way out of the palace, and the Doctor blinked as the sun hit him full in the face.
“Another day has dawned,” he commented. “I must have been asleep longer than I thought.”
River observed his face and clucked her tongue. “You have a pretty nasty bruise under your right eye. Did someone hit you?”
“The Huntsman,” he replied darkly. “A murdering psycho who works for the Queen. I suppose I’m lucky to have gotten off so easily, considering what he’s been doing to the girls in this kingdom.”
“And what’s that?” River asked earnestly. “I’ve been locked up with the village idiots for the last year.”
The Doctor lowered his eyes and stared at the ground as they crossed over a drawbridge. Below, a line of beautiful swans swam past before being followed by a mismatched duckling.
“He’s been cutting out their hearts apparently,” he replied. “And the Queen hasn’t got a clue. It looks like it’s up to me to stop him before he gets to Rose.”
“Rose Red?” River asked in a panicked voice. “She’s in danger?”
“You know her?” the Doctor asked in surprise.
“She’s my best mate!” River answered. “And I’ll tell you right now, if someone is trying to hurt her, they’ll have to get through both of us! The question is, how do you know her?”
The Doctor felt a blush creeping through his cheeks as they entered the edge of the forest, where the shade cooled the air and made the hot afternoon bearable.
“The thing is, I’m not sure if I do,” he mumbled.
River smiled suddenly and made a low noise in the back of her throat.
“Love at first sight then? Must have seen her from afar… That’s the way of it, or at least, that’s how it was with me and the Emperor. I suppose it didn’t help that he was unwittingly naked the first time I saw him. Talk about advertising...”
River hummed to herself under her breath while the Doctor choked on a laugh, and distracted himself by rummaging in his satchel for the book again. He wanted to be sure he hadn’t missed anything obvious before they ran headlong into another adventure.
He cracked a smile as he stumbled upon Goldilocks and the Three Bears, right next to the Emperor’s New Clothes.
“What’s that?” River demanded as she attempted to snatch it away.
“Uh uh! Spoilers!” he said warningly. “These stories are for my eyes only.”
River frowned and whined sadly. “But I love stories! I haven’t heard any good ones in such a long time… None, actually.”
The Doctor perked up as he tucked the book away safely. “Not a one?” he asked. “Do you not know any by heart?”
River screwed up her eyes as they passed by a small hut. Outside, a group of dwarves were working together to plant a garden. The Doctor glanced at them distractedly before turning his attention back to Goldilocks.
“That’s so strange,” River breathed. “I can’t remember. It’s like they’re just…gone.”
“That is definitely odd,” the Doctor replied. “And might have something to do with a puzzle I’m working on myself. Tell me Goldi…”
“Call me Locks,” River interrupted.
“Locks,” the Doctor mused. “Tell me, have things have been unusual around here lately? Surely a clever girl like you found ways out of your tea and scone cell every once in a while.”
River laughed and shrugged one shoulder casually. “I might have, but information was hard to come by. If anything has been amiss, it’s for a lack of telling.”
The Doctor noted her choice of words carefully, wondering if there was something in it.
River cut off his train of thought however, pointing to a large bridge up ahead. It spanned over a large, gushing river underneath, and led into a new part of the forest.
“That’s where we need to go,” she said. “You don’t happen to have any gold on you by chance?”
“I’m afraid I’m fresh out,” he replied. “Please don’t tell me there are trolls under that bridge.”
River stared at him with a deadpan expression and pointed toward another path, where the forest floor gave way to soft, yellow sand. “Either one grumpy troll or forty scrofulous thieves. Take your pick.”
The Doctor pouted out his lower lip for a second before turning back toward the bridge. “If it’s a numbers game, I'll play those odds,” he mumbled to himself.
River moved in front of him and unsheathed a short silver blade as they walked.
“Is that really necessary?” the Doctor sputtered.
River winked as she stepped backwards onto the bridge. “You have no idea,” she said.
Just one second after her heel touched down on the wooden surface, the bridge began to shake tremulously. A gigantic hand appeared over one edge as it gripped the side of the bridge in order to hoist up the troll who had been tucked underneath. River smiled up into its hideous face as it showed itself, it’s leering pink eyes staring down at her with intense loathing.
“Toll!” it roared as it settled itself in the center of the bridge.
The troll was easily fifty feet tall, and towered over the tiny Goldilocks, who nonetheless showed no fear.
“Sorry! No toll today!” River replied. “Why don’t you call it a charitable donation?”
The troll scowled and slammed its fist down onto the bridge, sending River crashing to her bum. The Doctor dashed up behind her and helped her back up.
“This is probably a bad idea,” he supplied. “Those forty thieves may not be so tough after all.”
River dusted herself off and held up a staying hand.
“Trust me. I know what I’m doing. And Doctor, you might want to move back.”
He scooted back onto the green grass and watched nervously as River sauntered back up to the living roadblock.
“One more chance!” she taunted. “Then I’m taking this path one way or another. I am warning you, bridge keeper! You don’t want to be on my bad side!”
The troll laughed, a rumbling, creaking sort of chuckle that echoed in the mountains to the north. It held out its fist and hovered it over River’s head.
“Too bad!” River said as she deftly rolled out of the way.
The fist crashed down on empty space as River pricked her knife, tiny by comparison, into one of the troll’s toes. He howled in rage as she skipped underneath him and jabbed him again in the back of the leg. The troll moved its head to check the new wound and didn’t even feel River climbing up its opposite side, holding onto its grubby loincloth as she went. The Doctor watched in amazement as River shimmied up onto the monster’s shoulder and cut the thin strap of fabric that held up its tunic. She then swan-dived down and pulled with the full force of her weight until the troll began to topple backward. For good measure, River skipped back under the troll’s body and jabbed her knife into its toe one more time. The combined distraction and loss of balance were enough to send it howling over the edge of the bridge.
River sheathed her weapon and signaled urgently to the amazed Doctor.
“He won’t be long!” she cried. “Get across quickly!”
The Doctor broke out into a run and streamed across the bridge, following River as she hopped over the missing boards. When they were both safely on the other side, he collapsed into the grass beside her.
“That was amazing!” he shouted. “Where in world do you learn things like that?”
River’s face flushed happily as she rolled onto her stomach.
“Let’s just say I’ve trained with the best,” she said. “Hopefully you’ll get to meet him one day.”
After resting up a bit, the two carried on in companionable silence for many miles. As they passed through the beautiful and varying countryside, the Doctor felt an odd kind of happiness he’d never really known. It was really quite nice being inside a fairy tale land, even with the bad bits in between. Everywhere he looked, there was something magical taking place. People would randomly break out into song, animals effected eccentric human quirks, and something unexpected and amazing happened around every corner.
When they eventually reached barrier wall of a small town, the Doctor nearly strangled River in hysteric glee. He stared up at the flimsy wooden sign over the entrance and jumped for joy.
“It’s Munchkinland!” he cried
“Oh great,” River groused as she stared down at the previously unnoticed yellow brick road they had stumbled upon. “I HATE Munchkins!”
The Doctor banged enthusiastically on the door, hardly able to contain his enthusiasm as he waited for a Munchkin to appear. Unfortunately, several long minutes went by without a response, no matter how many times he knocked and hollered.
“Abandoned,” River said curiously as she observed the dilapidated condition of the surrounding wall. “What’s happened here?”
The Doctor furrowed his brow and started to walk around the perimeter, looking for an alternate way in.
“Whatever you’re thinking, I wouldn’t,” River offered.
The Doctor ignored her though as he spotted a tree that might lend itself to climbing over the wall.
“Not up for a bit of adventure, Locks?” the Doctor manipulated.
River could hardly resist a challenge, and allowed the Doctor to help her up into the tree where they both jumped off and landed hard on the inside of the compound. The Doctor whistled low as he took in the equally rundown condition of the town, which was everything he’d imagined otherwise. The little mushroom-shaped houses were caving in at the rooves, and the winding central endpoint of the yellow brick road had lost a significant amount of bricks.
River traced the path before stepping off to explore some of the shop windows. She peered into one, where the dust obscured her view until she cupped her hands over her eyes.
“Doctor,” she called. “You’d better come see this.”
He rushed over anxiously and mimicked River’s stance, seeing a few figures were inside the room, frozen stiff. An icy sheen reflected off their skin, and long thin icicles hung down from the cuckoo clock on the mantle. It was as if winter had concentrated itself on the interior.
River was already at another house and peeking in.
“Same thing here!” she reported. She checked a few more businesses and concluded the problem was epidemic.
“What could have done this?” the Doctor mused.
River rubbed the back of her neck as she peered around the eerily quiet square.
“A curse,” she breathed. “And not one we’d want to catch. I think we should move on, Doctor. This place…unsettles me.”
The Doctor agreed and started to make his way toward the main entrance when a series of red spray painted letters distracted him. He knew instinctively that such messages were never a good sign, but this one in particular made no sense to him.
“Locks,” he called over his shoulder. “What does beware the Wheelers mean?”
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