King Chinny || Geronimodingdong
Even if the TARDIS was unable to translate for her what the woman was saying she would have understood the intent. She could see the gratitude radiating from her as she spoke praise about The Doctor and all he had done for the world. Little did this woman know that he did this all the time, it was practically his job. Yet as the speaker of her civilization she was doing a rather good job of expressing just how thankful they were. Clara was only half listening until a single phrase caught her attention. "We believe in order to avoid another catastrophe like the one you just rid us of, we would like you to lead our civilization. Your knowledge of peace and the universe in general would be a great benefit to our people."
Was she mad? The Doctor didn’t stay around for too long, he loved to help, but once that was done he was off flying again. He couldn’t stay, then he would really go crazy. The only problem was it didn’t seem like they were giving them much of a choice, a group of guards began urging them towards the palace like building. Clara tried to offer protests, but they seemed to be ignored. One of the guards shoving her a little less gently along. She frowned, hadn’t she done a great deal in helping save their arses too?
"Doctor, I’m not sure if this is a good idea." She murmured glancing at the box behind them that was now fading into the distance as they reached the steps of the impressive white building. "Really we should go." She said trying to be polite addressing the woman rather than the not so friendly guardsmen.Â
"Nonsense. We must at least have a feast to honor our savior. Surely you would agree that he deserves our full gratitude." The Noblewoman spoke. Clara now wished she had caught the woman’s name. Though the woman didn’t seem all concerned about Clara turning back to The Doctor. "We will be sure to completely accommodate you completely for such a wonderful service to your people. Let us know what you wish to have at your feast, our cooks are some of the finest in the galaxy and are extremely trained in the cuisine of more cultures than just our own."
Clara frowned. If this was some attempt to lure The Doctor in she was close to assuring them it wouldn’t work. Though before she could get a word out one of the men grabbed her by the arm and lead her down another corridor while the woman continued to distract The Doctor.Â
It was hours later after Clara had been scrubbed down by various different women and dressed in a new set of clothes then the ones she had come there in. It was a long, simple white dress with quite the slit going up the side. Normally she wouldn’t have felt uncomfortable by such a dress, but the fact that she hadn’t chose it made her less fond of it. Her hair was styled up in a strange updo and she was handed a pitcher of some sort filled almost to the brim with some dark juice. What on Earth was she supposed to do with that?
It wasn’t until she was lead to a room where sat the table that she noticed that other women there were wearing practically the same thing. Was it some traditional garb? As she was trying to put the pieces together she heard a commotion drawing her eyes to the door in which she saw The Doctor enter surrounded by quite the fan fair. That’s when it hit her, they thought she was his servant, and she was there to serve at this banquet in his honor. She pressed her lips together and watched The Doctor, waiting for him to explain the mix up. Surely once he saw her he’d be able to explain to them she was his friend not some servant girl. They certainly wouldn’t believe it if it came from her mouth.Â
