Title: Progenies of the Jabberwock
Rating: T, PG-13, whatev.
Summary: "Do you not know what happens to those who drink the blood of the Jabberwock?"
Warning(s): Eventually will contain, among other things, slight femmeslash and shameless references to Shadow of the Colossus.
Note: "Progeny" n, pl -ies: Offspring, children, descendants.
I: The Beginning
Damn back.
Alice would begin her mornings for the past few days cursing the sudden shot of pain in her spine whenever she tried rising from bed. At first it was just a few dull aches, but now it elevated to an aggrivating pins-and-needles sensation. Running fingers through her tussled hair, she thought about the time that passed since her return, in search of a possible cause for her back problems (which was a conundrum itself, considering she didn't partake in especially strenuous activities). There was that time she was sparring with Tarrant, but he was extremely careful to never harm her. What about the day she reclaimed her duty as Champion? Nothing happened then either, though Alice did have to mask a wince when standing from a kneel before Mirana. Or the day before that when Mirana revealed her own dark secrets or the day before that…
Nothing stood out in her mind. Besides, Alice was never one to slouch or hunch or anything else that might have caused her new back problems. But now wasn't the time to be pondering it, as she was visiting Tarrant's workshop, and decided she might go consult Mirana about it after she was done… whatever it was she was doing. Something to do with the healing arts, Alice figured.
She snapped back to reality since Tarrant had finished making a hat for her (a blue and silver hound's-tooth knit fedora to match her favorite tie) and promptly placed it on her head. Tarrant then spun Alice's chair around so she could view herself in the mirror. The fedora's brim framed her face nicely. Tarrant studied her reflection, pursed his lips, adjusted the fedora so that it tilted slightly to the right side of the blonde's face, and made a noise of approval.
"Eh… I like it!"
"It's a perfect fit," Alice grinned.
"Still much work to be done yet," said Tarrant, returning to his pile of hatting paraphernalia. "We managed to retrieve some of the hats I made in Salazen Grum for reuse here, such a waste of good hats otherwise, you know, and I still need to work on a hat for Chessur." Not missing a beat, Tarrant removed his top hat and shifted his eyes around his workshop suspiciously. No doubt he was making a hat for Chessur if only to stop the great tabby furball from leering at his beloved hat so much.
Alice had a chuckle at the way Tarrant protectively cradled his hat. She motioned to stand from her chair when she seized up slightly, a low hiss escaping her clenched teeth. Tarrant looked at her in concern.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
"My back," Alice said. She reached a hand back to rub her shoulder blades. "It's been hurting for a few days now. I think I fell on my back when I returned."
Oddly, Alice knew she didn't land on her back when she fell through the looking-glass in her bedroom; she'd landed face-down, just like the last time.
"Would a massage help?" a soothing voice purred, and Chessur misted into the room. "It won't do for our Champion to suffer a bad back."
"I was actually planning to see Mirana about that. Do you know where she is?"
"If I recall, she's down in the dungeons examining one of the dearly departed," Chessur's expression grew solemn as his head swam through the air. "Poor thing was quite young."
Alice blinked at the mental image of the White Queen performing an autopsy. Dominion over the Dead, she reminded herself.
Late that afternoon, after Mirana was finished examining the corpse of one of her recently departed courtiers (apparently the cause of death was two eight-inch long pieces of corset steel lodged in the girl's heart due to obsessive tight lacing), washed, and changed into her usual white gown, she found Alice standing incredibly stiffly with her back to the wall near her chamber. Her brow was furrowed in a grimace and there were dark circles under her eyes.
"Alice?" Mirana said. "Is everything all right?"
"I'm having back troubles." The response was slightly strained. "I was hoping you could take a look when you have the time."
"I have time now."
"But didn't you just finish something important?"
"It's fine, Alice. I wouldn't be able to sleep knowing something pains my Champion."
Alice's cheeks colored at Mirana's affectionate words. The pale queen extended a hand and she took it, the two walking into Alice's quarters, though Alice made a small grunt of pain when she moved from her spot against the wall. Mirana turned to examine Alice's armor while the blonde rather bashfully began undoing the top of her dress.
"Where does it hurt? How badly?" Mirana asked.
"Er, around my shoulders and a little lower... It almost feels like I'm being stuck with tiny pins and needles."
Her torso exposed and her back to Mirana, Alice climbed onto the bed and lay on her stomach. The White Queen noted how more... tonedAlice was compared to her last visit to Underland. Evidently, Alice must have been quite busy during the two years on the upside world since the Frabjous Day. Leaving her thoughts, Mirana worked her fingers with precision, stroking and kneading every ache in Alice's back, save for one. Alice sighed into the covers; if it weren't for her back, Mirana's gentle ministrations certainly would have lulled her into a deep sleep. Once Mirana reached the shoulder blades, though, she stopped all movements and furrowed her brow. Alice tried not to flinch when Mirana's fingers investigated that one area.
"Curious," Mirana murmured to no one in particular.
"What is it?" Alice's voice was muffled by the covers, but her concern was clear as day. "I didn't break anything in my back, did I?"
"No, dear, I don't think anything is broken. It's just..."
"What? What's wrong?"
"I'm... not certain." Mirana winced at the hiss Alice bit back when she prodded at the spot. "Unless I'm mistaken, there's a sort of..." Mirana groped for the right wording, "...growth. It feels as though you have a growth of some kind in your back."
"A growth?" Alice nearly shot up, but the stab of pain in her back and Mirana's hands kept her down, so she craned her neck around to look at the queen. "Are you certain?"
"Honestly, no." Mirana looked quite baffled by now. She raised her hands to shoulder level, flicking her fingers in thought. "I have heard of some insects implanting eggs in specific prey, but I don't think it could be that..."
Alice stared at her in horror and felt vaguely nauseous. The last thing she needed was a herd of horseflies popping out of her back. As if to mock her worries, the pins and needles stabbed at the small of her back the same way they did whenever she tried sleeping on her stomach. Mirana's hands descended on her again in an attempt to alleviate the pain.
"I have an ointment in the kitchen that may help," Mirana offered.
Alice buried her face in the covers, the pins and needles not done with their torture. "Yes, please." She managed to keep her voice level, but in her mind she was on all fours begging for the pain to just stop, for the love of God!
"I'll only be a moment." Mirana walked— glided, rather— to the door, but twirled around when she heard the young Champion calling her name.
Alice watched Mirana from the bed and said in a small voice, "Thank you." Though it may have been a trick of the light, Mirana could swear Alice's brown eyes appeared almost red in the setting sun reflecting off the walls.