All's Fair in Love, War, and Madness
Book Two: Antithesis
....and Juxtaposition: thickest friends, and most mortal enemies.
CHAPTER ONE: Rain
There are no beginnings- Merely cycles of a vast, shining circle.
-Anonymous
Rain. Raindrops fell fast over the plain, and thick clouds subdued the castle's bright hues. Nature had rightly cast gloom upon this day- the sun had no right to shine. Not after all that had happened.
The Queen of Diamonds was dying. She had fought like a hundred men, but it had not been enough to save her from a well-placed arrow. It could have been anyone that fell. But it had to be the Queen. And each member of the Rebellion gathered around her in mourning, wishing that they had taken the blow instead.
But no one more than the young man lying in the shadows. He was almost unrecognizable, his top hat askew and his jacket stained in blood. He'd reappeared suddenly near the end of the battle, broken and bleeding. The Rebellion were busy routing the last of the Cards, and no one would have found him at all if Ferzin hadn't been chasing down a rogue soldier. The Queen of Diamonds' forces had been at the brink of defeat until almost the last moment. They were saved by a flock of Gyrefalcons- huge, dragon-like beasts, that swooped down from the heavens and unleashed their fury on the castle. It was truly a wonder to behold- the gigantic creatures loosing blasts of white lightning and tearing the steel Cards into dollrags. They were more than a match for the Red Soldiers, and once their grisly work was completed, the Rebellion stormed the castle. After purging it of the few Cards that remained, they were pleased to find the Queen of Hearts dead in her throne room. They assumed it was the work of their Champion.
None of them knew that the real perpetrator was gone- vanished from the castle soon after Percy appeared, shouting about Alice falling through a window. The Rebellion searched for hours, but came up empty, and were forced to conclude that Alice was gone.
Ferzin had never recalled seeing a Sadder Hatter. He glanced over at the shadows where Percy lay and cursed quietly. The boy was gone- he'd finally managed to slip away from the medics. (They'd had to knock him out before he'd consent to treatment- bloody Hatter wanted to search for his Alice.) He'd been run straight through, but whoever stabbed him hit too far to his side- his was only a flesh wound. A nasty flesh wound, but his organs were unscathed. He'd live.
But not if the blasted boy didn't sit still!
Ferzin marveled at how the Hatter had managed to stand, let alone sneak away from the Medics. But that was love, he reflected. It made you do ridiculous things.
The ape hobbled over to a group of survivors and sent them to search. He would've done it himself, but his place was by his Queen. So he waited, and prayed that the Hatter hadn't managed to get himself hurt.
But, inside, he knew the road ahead bore nothing but heartbreak for the poor Hatter- if he would find anything left of his Alice, it would be a body.
And the tears of the sky fell faster.
How many more times am I going to wake up like this?
Alice hurt everywhere. Sickening pain gripped her abdomen and head, and thousands of small gashes throbbed and stung in unison. But none of her bones felt broken. Shouldn't they have been, if she'd hit the ground? But she couldn't process this thought properly- it was all she could do to stay conscious, blinking the rain out of her eyes that tried to weigh down her eyelids, drawing her into the deep, dreamless sleep that waited at the edge of her vision...
"Alice?"
She tried to turn her head, but it wouldn't obey her. Instead, she glanced up, and saw a familiar, pale face swimming above her own.
"Oh, thank the fates- MEDIC!" he cried. "ALICE IS ALIVE! SHE'S OVER HERE!"
Her eyes fluttered again- nothing was making sense. A hospital... shouldn't I be in a hospital? Nothing was making sense- she was always where she thought she shouldn't be... the thought was almost enough to make her laugh, even through the pain that was almost enough to make her scream. What was wrong with her?
"P-percy?"
"Yes. It's me. Just hold on, Alice. Please." he begged, carefully taking hold of an undamaged hand. Cloaked figures ran towards them, medical kits in hand, but they were so terribly far away...
"What happened?" she croaked. She was trying to focus, because something told her the weariness at the edges of her vision was not a good thing.
"You fell through the windows in the throne room."
The memory bobbed to the surface slowly, and with it, came another.
"You were hurt. The Knave... you saved me, Alice."
Her gaze wandered to the bandages swathing his shoulder and side, but he waved a hand absently.
"This is nothing- you're much worse. Not as to say, you're bad, because surely you're the most wonderful creature I've ever met, but your injuries are much more severe than mine so I can't help but-"
She groaned as a fresh wave of pain washed over her, and Percy ceased his ramblings.
"Sorry. But the Medics are almost here, Alice."
"You're too late."
Percy opened his mouth to reply, but it was cut off in a strangled gasp.
The tip of a blade protruded from his front. Dead-center this time.
"PERCY!" Alice screamed. But it was too late- he'd fallen over, and a hooded figure rose behind him, cold laughter ringing in her ears.
"PERCY! NO!"
Alice gasped, starting awake. Again. Why again? She shook herself, clearing her mind. It was a dream. All a dream... she'd left the hospital four years ago. She'd never lay dying on the battlefield, the Knave had never killed Percy... everything was fine.
She laughed bitterly, raising her head. Fine? She was not fine. Her body ached with tiredness, her face smeared with watercolors and pastels. She'd fallen asleep at work. Again. She'd taken to working late at the studio, to make up for the lack of revenue from her pieces. It was not, she told herself, because she needed to take her mind off things. Because she didn't. There was nothing there to take-off, mindwise. Her uncle had inherited/stolen Grandma's farm in the name of "development," which meant that he was building his third private estate. He'd paved over the Rabbit Hole and all entrances to the Warrens that she knew of. She had spent months- years, searching for others, but she had found none.
She was never going to see Wonderland again.
It had taken four years to resign herself to that fact- and only because she simply stopped thinking about it. If she didn't dwell on that colorful, whimsical world, she could pass it off as a dream. The fuzzy memories mixing and slurring together, at other times bursting forth in technicolor clarity, were simple hallucinations. Because she didn't miss Wonderland, didn't miss a certain Hatter so fiercely that it hurt like a physical ache.
She didn't. She'd grown up- moved on. Amelia would have been proud.
Squirrelbeard wouldn't have been.
She forced the thought down, replacing it with an image of her apartment. Because that's what she did with thoughts of Wonderland- she shoved them away, because remembering when she could never return (Would there even be anything to return to?) was enough to bring the tears to her eyes.
Even after four years.
She glanced down at her desk, and sighed. The watercolors were smudged, the pencil lines askew, but she recognized the rabbit in the picture.
Banthrope, the Warrenmaster. She swept her arm across the table, sending the ruined picture and watercolors flying in all directions. Brushes clattered to the floor, and the ominous clink of shattering glass rocked the air. The debris settled among a jungle of wadded papers- mushrooms, castles, grinning cats- but most of all of an orange-eyed Hatter. Wonderland simply refused to lie dormant in her head- it seeped through her brushes and pencils, turning anything she drew into paper memory. She tried to paint a rabbit, but it looked horrid unless she added a waistcoat. She tried to sketch a man named Mark the other day- and he gave the drawing back. It had orange eyes.
Why? She wasn't even aware of making the changes- they flowed out of her of their own accord. Was Wonderland still punishing her for leaving it, even now? Couldn't it let her live her life in Elsewhere?
But is it really living, if you don't enjoy it?
There had been very little to enjoy in the last four years- Amelia had been married to a true horror named John, Alice had found an art career, but couldn't sell a single thing, and her Grandmother was dead. Without Per- Grandmother, in her life, things felt gloomier than ever.
There was no point pining over Wonder-other places, when she could never go back.
So stop thinking about it already!
"Alice? Are you all right?"
She jumped- unaware that she'd spoken her last words aloud. Tiffany had walked into the studio, looking nervous. Though Tiffany managed the studio, she was actually about Alice's age. Her dark hands and worn apron were smeared with white clay, and her flyaway hair was pulled into a loose bun. Her chocolate-brown eyes were wide with concern.
She said again, "Are you okay?"
Alice shook herself. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks for asking, Tiff."
"No problem- your shift ended two hours ago, you know."
Alice sighed. "I know."
"Much as I love your work, you can't live up here. You'd best be getting home." She smiled a bit at that- while most people disapproved of Alice's wild use of colors, the strange, surreal characters she drew, Tiffany liked her art. If only they could sell it...
"I'm sorry for the trouble. I've just been trying to make something that'll sell..."
The manager sighed, sweeping her gaze across the mess on the floor.
"I understand. You can clean this up tomorrow. But before you go..." she glanced over her shoulder. "Albert's here."
Alice grimaced. "Again?"
While Tiffany, Alice, and her fellow artists might run the shop, Albert's father owned it. The young man had become quite taken with Alice and visited the shop annoyingly often.
"Can't we make him leave?"
"Sorry, Alice. He technically owns the place." Tiffany's gaze became grave. "Be careful, okay? I know he doesn't look like much, but Albert's used to getting what he wants. I don't think he's above following you home."
Alice nodded gravely- she lived only a few blocks from the studio and liked to walk to work and back.
"I've lived alone since I was eighteen, Tiff. I can handle Albert."
She smirked- She had killed a Bandersnatch and the Queen of Hearts' most deadly warrior. She wasn't about to run from one perverted college student.
Still, if he snuck up on you...
She shoved the thought away. She was overreacting.
And she was thinking of Wonder-OTHER PLACES.
"Thanks, Tiff. Back door or front?"
Translation: Which one is Said Perverted College Student not standing by?
"Sorry, Alice. I didn't keep track. You sure you don't want me to drive you home?"
"I'll be fine." she called, as she descended the stairs to the charming shop that lay below. "I can handle the Witless Wonder."
Sure enough, Albert was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, a sloppy grin pasted across his face. He was a tall, lanky fellow with red hair and watery blue eyes. Acne and freckles mingled on his pale, ferrety face, and thick glasses weighed down his nose. He was Nerd incarnate- though his expensive leather jacket and slacks rather ruined the effect. And his liquid eyes were sharp and cunning, not dull and unfocused. Alice noticed that a black top hat was perched on his head, and she sneered. He'd obviously gotten a hold of one of her (many) drawings of a (specific) person in a top hat, and had tried to replicate the effect.
Ha. You wouldn't know the first thing about being a Mad Hatt- milliner.
Albert was essentially a man very used to getting his way.
"Alice! I hoped I'd run into you here."
That's because you memorized my schedule.
"I work here." she managed to growl, turning to avoid him. But he sidestepped, blocking her path to the door. He held one hand behind his back, obviously concealing flowers. Again. For the third time.
"It's right around eight-thirty, Alice- wouldn't you like to go out for-"
"No." she said flatly. "I'd like to go home. It's late, and I'm tired. Now, if you'll excuse me..."
But he again sidestepped her as she tried to leave.
"Now, now, Alice, no need to be rude. I can drive you home, if you'd like."
His eyes glittered with anticipation. Alice's lip curled.
Get into a car with you? Fat chance.
"No thank you, Albert. I prefer to walk."
"But it's raining."
"I like the rain."
"But-"
"NO."
And with that, she shoved her way past him and marched towards the door.
"You'll change your mind eventually, Alice! Mark my words!"
SLAM.
Alice stomped out of the studio, muttering irritably under her breath. But it was difficult to remain angry for long- the rain seemed to wash it away, the soothing coolness of the drops releasing the anger boiling beneath her skin. She stood still for a moment, letting the water soak her hair and clothes and dance across her face. Reluctantly, she broke the spell and continued walking.
There was something magical about rain.
She had thought she wouldn't be able to enjoy anything after her last days in Wonderla... after her Grandmother's death. Guilt pricked at Alice's skin as she recalled that she'd spent only a little of the last few summers with her Grandmother, so intent had she been on Wonder- other things. The old woman had been her rock- the only real parent she'd ever had. Where was she now? Amelia had brought her up to believe in heaven. (Macbeth hadn't done much by the way of religious education.) Was that where she was now? Was Squirrelbeard there with her? Alice had never thought about where people who died in Wonderland went. She'd heard 'the fates' mentioned before. Were they Wonderlandian gods?
The thought of Wonderland brought back a wave of fresh memories, and tears stung Alice's eyes. She bit them back, glaring through her watery eyes.
Stop it! What's with me today?
Clack. Clack. Clack.
The sound of footsteps on the pavement suddenly sounded- Alice turned, but saw no one.
Probably just somebody turning the corner. Nothing to be afraid of.
She was definitely sucky at this whole lying thing. But Alice steeled herself and walked onward- turning into another alley. She knew this route like the back of her hand. Alice was hardly conscious of walking; her feet knew where they were trying to go. All she had to do was put herself on autopilot.
Clack. Clack. Clack.
Autopilot was great, but a couple of proton torpedoes would be better.
Just keep walking.
Motion was important. It lent a feeling of purpose- and it helped order her tangled, fear-choked thoughts. It did nothing to suppress the growing prickling in the back of her neck, but it kept panic at bay. Her footsteps gave her thoughts rhythm, clarity.
Think, Alice. This alley isn't a dead-end. You'll be at the end of it in a moment. Then it's another block to your apartment, and you're home free. Just keep walking....
She inwardly sneered at herself. Jumping at shadows, that's what she was doing. Ha! She'd seen much worse than this.
But she refused to think of what or where she'd seen these things, because that would fall under 'thinking about it' which was something she was determined not to do. Not of that place, or of him...
A shadowed figure crossed into her peripheral vision, she recognized the top hat immediately- It was Albert.
Her pulse quickened. But it was okay, he wouldn't dare try anything. If he did, she was ready. She picked up her pace, and he sped his up to match. They were nearly out of the alley, it would be okay. She'd punch him for stalking her all this way, and then-
Alice froze in her tracks. She was staring at an impassable brick wall.
WHAT?! I must have taken a wrong turn!
Whose luck was this bad? The first guy who falls for her is a murderer, the second... and now she was stuck with Albert.
Stuck alone, late at night, in an alley...
She had heard this story on the news so many times, but never dreamed.... never, in her worst nightmare... A fleeting image of another man in a top hat beating Albert to a pulp flashed across her vision, and she bit back her tears. He would have been furious. But it would do no good...
"Alice."
That white-hot anger built up in her again, and when Albert touched her shoulder, she loosed a savage war cry and whirled around, elbowing him in the face. She launched herself upon him, forcing him to the ground, but he was too strong. With a grunt of effort, he flipped her off of him and pinned her down.
NO!
She shook the rain from her eyes and kneed him in the stomach, winding him. Now Alice had the upper hand, and the two of them were tussling, rolling in the alley, each trying to pin the other, Alice's heart racing desperately in her ears-
GRAAARGH!
With another savage growl, she punched Albert in the face and forced him to the ground. Alice was crouched over him, her hands pinning his shoulders to the ground. Both of them gasped for breath, and they stayed thus for a moment longer-
Until Alice wiped the rain from her eyes and took a good look at her assailant's face.
"Percy?"
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Yeah, yeah- I'm sure you guys totally called it. XD I've had that scene in my mind for ages... it feels weird to finally be writing it. o____O
Oh, and I know Percy could have easily won the fight with Alice, being Outlandish and whatever, but he was trying not to hurt her. Other plot holes will be explained shortly...
Thanks to all readers and reviewers! :D