Hey there! This is just a quick little one shot that's been swirling around my head for a while now, but I have to give credit to my sister for inspiring the idea. For the story, you're going to have to assume that Alice decided to stay in Underland, or else it won't make much sense. I hope you enjoy it :D
Even after all this time in Underland, the Gardens never failed to impress Alice.
As she strolled down the pale, twisting granite path, she smiled as her curious eyes absorbed the bizarre and incredible flora. Plants that one would expect to find in some exotic greenhouse bloomed in the shadows of towering, spindly trees. Giant flowers dozed in the weak afternoon sunlight, their petals as vibrant as an artist's canvas. Horse flies and dragonflies – literally, of course – chased each other and darted in between the brilliant blossoms and oddly shaped, weaving vegetation. The atmosphere was cool and echoed with the thrumming of translucent wings and the chirp and squawks of hidden creatures.
Alice inhaled deeply: the air was rich with the a thousand fresh and exuberant fragrances. The Gardens were a feast for the nose as well as the eyes.
She often walked this way when she was not spending her time with people like Queen Mirana, Mc Twisp and her dear Hatter. Life in Underland was so exciting and lively that it seemed like living in some crazy dream. Sometimes she needed a break from it all; some time for some peace and quiet alone.
It wasn't that she grew weary of all the fantastic surprises and impossible possibilities. If anything, she loved it all! It was all she could ever hope for, ever dream for. But it was hard work keeping up with it, even after spending a long time in Underland. It was nice to have some time alone with just her distant, wild thoughts for company.
As she brushed a moist, sticky fern out of her way, she marvelled at the size of the plant. It was more than twice the size of her. A flicker of a smile graced Alice's pale lips. Memories of Gribling Day when she returned to Underland flooded her mind. She remembered when she had to drink the Pishsalver to slip through the tiny entrance in the room of doors. When she was only a few feet tall, everything had seemed truly enormous to her then.
Alice couldn't focus on daydreaming and walking, and she forgot her feet and stumbled over a dislodged slab in the path, jolting out of her thoughts. With a gasp she fell flat on her face: not the nicest way to be brought back to reality.
Pushing back her tangled blond tresses, she began to get back to her feet. She paused halfway, distracted by an unusual sound. She frowned and cocked her head to one side.
Snip, snip, snip. It sounded like the smooth, squeaking scrape of metal against metal, and after every scrape there was a neat clipping noise.
A slight crease appeared between Alice's brows. "What a strange sound…" she said to herself. She'd not heard something like that around her before.
She stood up and brushed her blue dress down, and then carefully walked forward, following the source of the peculiar snipping. Curiosity tugged her forward, as if she was a fish that had been ensnared by a juicy, interesting bait.
She walked around a clump of bushes with circular leaves and stopped in her tracks. Her dark eyes widened in their sockets.
A few feet away, there was a young man standing beside a huge emerald hedge. Everything about him yelled gothic oddity. He was as pale as a ghost, his skin contrasting greatly with his unruly bird's nest of ebony hair. He wore a one-piece outfit made entirely of thick black leather adorned with buckles and straps and rivets, as if it was what was keeping him in one piece. This enough was unusual, but Alice was most amazed by his hands. Or where his hands should be.
Instead of fingers of soft flesh, the man had long metal shears, five per hand. Each blade was sharp and gleamed softly. And what was more, the man was using his hands to trim the hedge! It was like he was using them for scissors!
Alice watched in fascinated awe as the man expertly shaped the shrubbery beside him. He had an expression of complete concentration on his face, his eyes intent and intense as he chose the exact spot to slice with his shears. He was utterly absorbed in his work: there was only him and the hedge, and not even the splendour of the Gardens around him could distract him from his task.
His actions started off careful and slow, just cutting little snippets from the shrubbery. A slice here, a cut there. He stared resolutely at the hedge, delicately taking in every detail with a practised, artistic eye. He allowed his imagination to flow through his mind and every cell in his body, trying to give his emotions and fervour a physical form.
As a picture of the desired result pieced together in the man's mind, his excitement and zeal grew within him, filling him up and radiating from him. His movements gradually increased in tempo, becoming faster and faster, becoming more daring with every skilled snip of his nimble hands. His arms darted in all directions. Here, there, a little more to the left. His fingers flashed in a blur of silver, dancing effortlessly over the surface of the shrub. The urgent squeaks of his shears became so fast that they were a continuous stream of sound. A confetti of bright green leaves sprayed out behind the man as he began to fashion a shape. First a head, then a limb, and now a whole body.
His fingers stopped moving, and calm settled over the scene once more. The silence was almost startling after the enthusiastic and exhilarating display of skill the man had shown. The man took a step back to admire his work. After a brief pause, a small, pleasant smile pulled up his full lips.
Alice released the breath she didn't realise she had been holding and blinked rapidly, slowly falling from the daze she had been captured in. She could hear her heartbeat loud and erratic in her ears. Her heart had pumped faster than the slice of the man's scissor-like hands whilst she had stood transfixed in awe.
She glanced at the hedge, and grinned when she saw what had replaced it. A great big stag with proud antlers stood gazing out across the Gardens, made entirely of leaves. In Alice's imagination, she saw the deer leap out at her and prance off through the grounds.
Entranced, she took a step forward. She flinched when a twig snapped under her heel.
The young man swivelled around and stared at Alice like a rabbit caught in headlights. He stood frozen to the spot, his eyes as round as saucers.
"It's alright," Alice reassured him, taking a tentative step towards him. "There's no need to be frightened of me."
Her words did little to soothe his alarm. He still gazed anxiously at her, but his body didn't seem as tense as before. It seemed like someone else had replaced the fiery, passionate man who had carved such exquisite art from something as mundane as a garden hedge. That man had held himself tall and had an aura of power and inspiration about him. Now the man had seemed to shrink within himself. His shoulders were slumped and he was stiff and still, except for his fingers which snipped nervously.
Alice kept walking until she was a few feet from him. "I'm not going to hurt you" she said stubbornly. She smiled softly, not wanting to scare off this eccentric yet incredible stranger.
Up this close, she saw his face properly for the first time. His pallid skin was marred by little half-healed scratches, but underneath the scars it was clear he was a very beautiful young man. In fact, he looked like a child, and his timid composure made him seem all the more innocent. He had bruise-like dark circles around his eyes, and his lips drooped in a sad little pout. His eyes were dark and liquid-like, and Alice could see her reflection in those glossy black orbs.
Alice frowned slightly. This man… she'd seen him before.
She stifled a gasp. The sense of déjà vu crept up her back and a rush of coldness sent goose pimples over her skin. The high-cheekbones, his soft lips, and his deep, mesmerising eyes – they all reminded of her of Tarrant. The wild hair was the wrong colour, and his outfit was a lot less vibrant then Hatter's colourful clothing. But still…
"How strange…" Alice murmured to herself.
"Excuse me?" the man said, his gentle voice whisper-soft.
Alice regained her composure and shook her head. "I've never seen you here before. What is your name?"
"Edward" was the timid reply.
Edward. That was a rather normal-sounding name for someone in Underland.
"Who – who are you?" Edward said, as if unsure if he was allowed to ask a question.
"Alice Kingsley," she answered. She turned to look at the stag again. "That's very good, you know."
Edward followed her gaze and looked surprised for a moment, before a happy smile broke out on his face. "Thank you."
"Did you do all the other hedges?" Alice said, suddenly remembering that the rest of the Gardens had similar shaped shrubbery.
"Yes" he said.
Alice beamed. "You're very talented. Would you like to trim the hedges in Queen Mirana's Palace? I'm sure they would look amazing."
Edward blinked and hesitated for a while. "I-I'd like that very much."
"I'm on my way there now," Alice said. "It's almost Brillig, and Thackery get's awfully restless if I'm late for tea. And I suppose Hatter will be wondering where I am too. I hope he's not worried about me… Anyway, you could come with me now, if you want."
Edward said nothing, but nodded enthusiastically.
A few days later, Alice was making her way across the courtyard of the White Queen's gleaming, ashen palace. Whilst halfway across the neat lawn, something caught her eye. She smiled broadly, and a slight blush of embarrassment and admiration spread over her pale cheeks.
Standing not too far away was a life-size hedge shaped in her likeness, even down to the tight curls of her messy hair.
OK, I know this sucked. But reviews would be appreciated anyway. :)