In a land far down the rabbit hole and through the other side of the Looking Glass laid a kingdom so peaceful that it had earned the jealousy of Time himself, and so the time moved back and forth; for some who had spited him, it would even stand still. Each day in this land would begin from the rising sun to the smallest critters up to the largest of folk- until all the inhabitants were buzzing like the B's.
The sun rose with a yawn, and his bright body burned the bugs that laid out on the flowers to cool, to which they huffed and puffed and blowed the flowers awake as they stomped off into the darker parts of the meadows. Some of the meaner flowers would cause a commotion by getting into arguments with the angry caterpillars and bread-and-butterflies, which was typically along the lines of "You don't pay to sleep on my leaves," and "you don't pay to get pollinated by the B's or the A's, so you should thank us." While this was happening, the kinder flowers began their morning chorus, waking all of the smaller rabbits and such, who in turn woke the larger rabbits that could walk on their legs. These rabbits were always assigned to be trumpeters at birth, though there have been recent protests against this because of the stereotyping, all of which started when Mr. Harrington was denied the opportunity to be a hatter. The trumpeters would sound their horns, waking all of the larger and the largest folk of the Kingdom, and so the day would begin.
It was the King who woke last, unstirred by any of the commotion. The head white rabbit had to come and blow his trumpet by the sturdy man's ears, and he grunted and growled until he fully awoke. Upon waking, the man's tired grumpiness was replaced by a smile shining so bright that the sun outside would momentarily turn away to yield its eyes. The Queen, on the other hand, was gone and back long before the King awoke- long before even the rest of the kingdom woke, for she daily ventured out into the breeze of the night until the first cricks of crickets that had far too many grasshoppers at the local bar, which nearby tenants complained was always filled with cockroaches.
The Queen had gotten used to sneaking out into the absolute darkness, escorted only by her loyal bishop sheep. The two returned each night to the quaint little farm where they were both raised. Upon arrival, the sheep could smell his old quarters where he once resided amongst the other sheep to be tended to by humans, like a rather unordinary creature in Chess. The trace of long-gone animals glided through the air and swirled around all of the Queen's senses, filling her mind with the memories the scent carried. After finding her footing in the pitch black, she was able to stand atop the old wooden fence which dared to wobble at each gust of wind. The Queen, however, did not move it, as if she were a ghost and had no weight. The sheep turned on what at the time was the only source of light in all of the land, and though it was dim and flickered each second, it lit the entire field. All of the rye could be seen swaying back and forth with the breeze. The old trampled parts of the ground could be made out from the shade that filled the holes where horses once stood to sleep. The Queen looked down and was able to make out every scratch and notch in the wood, some she had put there herself many years ago.
Mary was a beautiful woman who appeared almost astral to all those around her. Her steps were slow and delicate, and she always seemed to float above the ground. Her hands were always curled as if she were about to hold them tenderly to the tears on someone's cheeks. She brought peace everywhere she went, and made the King himself fall in love with her. But she was raised to act such a way, and the King knew nothing of who she really was, nor did the rest of the people of Chess. And Mary knew this well and wished to show her true self.
For she was never meant to be a queen, and she longed for the unordinary, unspeaking cattle she raised long ago. She wished to be the young girl who beamed a toothy grin at everyone that passed by and who raced horses instead of simply sitting on them. She wished for the time when she could drop and break things and scream and cry and jump about and show a sense of personality.
Mary sighed, and she wished as she looked at the long forgotten fields of her childhood for Time to be so angry one day that he cast the land back to the days of her youth when her grandmother protected her from the wishes of the rest of her family.
Mary looked over to her bishop. He stood high on his hooves, puffing his wooly chest out to scare off any wolves that may wish to attack. Looking at the speaking sheep now, she remembered when he was no more than a little lamb, not but a strange creature that the rest of the kingdom looked down on in his youth, for who had heard of any animal of any size needing the tending of humans? Even the most useless of critters find places to carry on freeloading.
The black sheep looked over at her and signaled for the time to go, bringing her back from her thoughts of the past. As the first of the creatures began to rise again (because Time turned backwards on the land), Mary took one last look at the land she longed to own again before turning to follow her bishop.
The Queen arrived just when the King was finishing getting dressed. The white rabbit ran anxiously about to find Mary-Anne, who was already in the kitchen just like every other day. She arrived just in time for the chess pieces to stomp out of the door, each saluting or waving at her as they marched past, and she gave a beautiful, heartwarming smile back to each one as they passed. Her bishop ran off to follow the pieces for their morning battle practice- a good game of chess. They always improvised the kings and queens, for the real King was far too busy and the Queen had been scrutinized far too many times when she first came to the castle for not taking the game seriously enough.
Instead, the Queen went through the heavy, arched white doors and into the kitchen- the source of the wonderful smells. It was in the kitchen that she bumped into Mary-Anne, as she frequently did. Her delicately curled fingers flailed outwards and her tiny lips formed a giant "0" as she hit the floor. Mary-Anne was far too used to the Queen's hidden clumsiness, and because nearly everything was scheduled in Chess (for they had to plan around their poor grasp of Time), the maid had already extended her hand out to help almost before her Majesty entered the room.
Mary-Anne (or Anne, as Mary called her to avoid confusion among the court) seemed to be one of the only people in Chess that had no true schedule and that roamed about freely at whatever particular time. The Queen told herself that perhaps it was this that brought back her past clumsiness whenever she was around the sweet girl. Regardless, Anne pulled Mary up and did not forget to scoff at her in a way that one could be punished for if heard doing to their Queen. Mary paid no mind to this and instead bared a smile for such a silly occurrence. "Thank you very much," she said, trying to maintain a proper voice, though her casualness slipped through. "Yeah, yeah" Anne said while walking away from the batter to find some sprinkles. The Queen long ago asked for them every morning to make the food look more 'lively,' as she put it. While the bowl was unguarded, Mary snuck her finger into the batter and stole a lick. Knowing she would do this, however, Anne quickly grabbed the sprinkles and ran back to the bowl, and she swatted away the Lady's hands as if she were a child.
"I swear they should worry more about sanitation than order; if I could leave the sprinkles here, you wouldn't always be sticking your hands in the food." To this, Mary pulled her hand away and feigned innocence, and Anne sighed and went on about how the staff would care more if they saw the things their queen did and other things that Mary didn't bother listening to.
Anne had been Mary's friend since childhood, and everyone would use "Mary-Anne" to refer to the both of them together, which is why Mary-Anne came to be known only as Anne when her other half was not around. Anne was always in love with cooking, and she came to be very wonderful at it.
The queen's bishop and her maid were the only people in the kingdom that she felt able to be herself around, though something about Anne still left her feeling even more clumsy than she normally was. They were the only two that knew Mary, and Mary was nothing like the Queen. It was only Mary's stubbornness she showed upon first becoming the queen that made her mother allow the two to stay and take such high positions of authority.
At first, everyone looked down on the sheep because he was not a true chess piece, and frowned at Mary-Anne because she only made sweet pastries and sugary things, once considered inappropriate for people of such high ranking. It was only because of the Queen's encouragement to become the best bishop and eagerness for every flaky tart that made the kingdom come to respect the two as much as any other member of the high court. It was also only because of the Queen's passion for peace and freedom that the land came to be as calm as it now is.
The Queen was shooed out of the kitchen, managing to get a cup of tea filled more than half with sugar before Anne could stop her from taking it all. Holding the cup in the delicate way she did, the Queen walked off to find her husband for the one time of day she had to be near him- although the two were married, she spent her time avoiding him when she could. It was not that she despised him, but that she did not love him and could not help it, and so she chose to avoid the problem as much as she could. Although she could not put her finger on it, Mary felt that something was different about the air today.
The good luck ducks were not quacking as they usually did. Something was awry.
Today, Mary was not greeted by the King's wide smile and (literally) breathtaking hug from a few floors up, where he would always be waiting while playing a game of cards with the Cards. She was expecting him to come out of nowhere and begin fawning over her as he had since he met her tending to her horse's hooves one day. She saw no sign of a messy suit and lopsided crown anywhere, though this reminded her to go back to her bedroom to find her own crown.
It was on her way to her bedroom that Mary found the King, about halfway up the spiral staircase to the great castle. She spotted him in a room filled with other men, his usually kind appearance now grave. The King was wearing his finest kept clothing, covered in robes to show his authority. The look was so unnatural for him that Mary could only detect his face from the beard. The tall, bulky man was leaning so far over a table that it looked like he had fallen and was trying to pick himself up. The Queen, having never been in this room before, walked unnoticed into the doorway and looked around the room.
The men that stood around the table were all green, and many of them had their feet held together by a green platform, and many stood in odd positions that they seemed to have a hard time moving out of. Soldiers. Mary looked down at the table they all stood around and realized that it was a chess strategy. They were positions for all of their pawns, for a war- and Mary's bishop stood right in front of the enemy.
Mary's hands uncurled from the cup of tea she was holding, and the glass fell to the floor and shattered, causing every head to turn.
All of the men looked up and noticed her presence for the first time; and it was the first time in years that anyone other than the maid or bishop had seen her look so disheveled. She stared at the men and the men stared at her, neither end knowing how to respond, for a solid half a minute. Eventually, she turned, her dress flying behind her, and ran straightforward out the door. Typically, she would be preparing for a speech with the King about peace at this time of day. But she knew she would not be preaching peace within the next twenty-four hours or the next twenty-four days. The land of peace and prosperity was going to war.
How could this happen? How could a war have begun? Chess stretched on forever; it was the only land that existed on this side of the Looking Glass. It had to be Hearts. The Queen of Hearts was a crazy woman, and it had been Mary that once prevented a war before. She became the Queen just a week before the two sides of the Looking Glass were to go to war, and she alone managed to negotiate with the Queen of Hearts, but with Time himself. The hatter that caused it all was sentenced a punishment by Time on the accusation that at the Queen's ceremony, he killed the time. Mary felt pouring amounts of sympathy for the hatter, but knew there was no other choice. His punishment was that Time would forever stay still for him, and so he spends his days having the same tea party. Rumors say that the man's gone mad.
If Mary couldn't keep the kingdom at peace, she did not want to be their queen. Her mother shoved the idea of marrying the king down her throat, and it was a rather large idea to swallow without any water; she had to have it pushed back out the first time. The only reason Mary did not run away from it all was because she believed that she could keep the land at peace if she were the queen. And she did. Until now.
Mary stayed in bed for the remainder of the day, refusing to come out. Mary-Anne banged on the door in the afternoon and tried to offer tea for comfort. Her sheep also came and offered himself as a pillow for her to lay hear head on, like when they were both younger. Mary did not even let the King enter when he needed to grab a few important things for the day. She did not listen to a word from any of the three of them, instead lost in her thoughts and plans of how to make things right.
Mary laid in the large bed until night; the King must have found somewhere else to sleep. When the nightfall came, the Queen removed her covers and walked over to the window to wait. A shooting star would pass the window every night, so high in the sky that it was hidden from the rest of the kingdom, and only able to be seen from this side of the high castle. Fortunately, Mary was the only person she had ever known that would still be awake when the sun stopped showing off. The star had been untouched for years, and a few minutes later when it twinkled in front of the great white window, Mary knew what her wish was.
Mary looked at the happy little star with her warm smile- now faltering slightly with regret and pity- and she spoke.
"I wish for Time to take me back twenty years, to the day before the King of Chess chose his queen."