Chapter Seven

Words That Start With the Letter G

Garrulous-Excessively or pointlessly talkative.

Tarrant's POV

All day long, one right after another, they come to me under the guise of seeking my advice, but their true motive is to slowly drive me to the gates of and beyond the brink into insanity. I was more than a little insulted that they honestly thought that I would believe that they wanted my council, because to be quite frank, I had no delusions about what they thought I was, and in truth they would be more likely to seek guidance from a pebble on the ground than to ask me what my opinion on any subject was.

It was bad enough dealing with the two-faced gentry that deigned to speak to me now that they'd realized that I possessed the perseverance to fight for them, not to mention the principle that drove me to protect my homeland, but I also had to endure mendacious souls such as Chessur, who had proven to be a turncoat when the Red Queen had taken control of the throne. His traitorous actions were difficult to stomach, and then there was his tendency to want to talk nonstop, making one wish that they could just place their hands around his furry neck and squeeze the life from his body.

"You've got a little twinkle in your eyes as of late Tarrant," the irksome feline purred as he followed me around the solarium, fading and reappearing from a puff of smoke. I was doing my very best to ignore him, but it was something that he didn't care for, not having a rapt audience at all times, and he retaliated by appearing on my shoulder, or wrapped around my leg, or even at times perched atop my hat, throwing me off balance, nearly causing me to topple to the ground, loathsome beast that he was.

"You should be more mindful of your personal safety Chessur," I hissed, catching my balance against a chair. "If you continue to torment me I will have no qualms about suggesting that you are separated from your manhood for the wellbeing and safety of all those in Underland."

The cat leapt from the crown of my hat to the table, upsetting numerous scrolls in the process. "Tut, tut Tarrant," he murmured, doing his best to sound both wounded and filled with terror, but I could see the smile that was twitching at the corners of his mouth. "There's no need for you to be so hostile, I was merely making an observation about your sunny disposition as of late."

I took a deep breath, admonishing myself that it was essential that I keep my temper in check. I had to keep repeating to myself that Chessur had redeemed himself, that he had risked his own life to save mine, but damnation, he was difficult to tolerate, always insisting on making me the butt of his jokes. I could make myself bear the brunt of his pranks, as long as I was the focal point, but I had an uneasy feeling that he was intent on drawing Claire into his tricks, and that was something that I couldn't tolerate, the fact that he and I were part of the same team be damned.

"I can restrain my aggressions if you would control your tongue," I answered, leaning over the table to study the newest reconnaissance reports from our agents all throughout Underland. "I don't think I'll ever be able to comprehend why you feel compelled to constantly torment those around you."

"Yes, well Tarrant, you have to first understand that the inner machinations of my mind are a conundrum, too complex for someone such as yourself to ever be capable of understanding. Secondly, if I were you, I'd be more concerned with controlling my own tongue. That was quite a scandalous display in the garden yesterday."

All the good advice that I'd been giving myself about holding my temper in check fled the room as I turned and seized hold of Chessur, my hand gripping his neck in a hold that he had little chance of breaking free of. "Filthy little underhanded sneak," I fumed, my anger growing until it consumed me, my fingers tightening upon the cat's gullet. "Deceitful mangy spy...Treacherous feline...Duplicitous little varmint...Cunning, despicable turncoat..."

Several hands and paws grabbed hold of me from behind and pulled me away from Chessur, who dropped to the floor coughing and wheezing, his suffering bringing me out from under the furious mist that had seized control of me. I turned to see who it was that had stopped me from strangling the cat, knowing that I owed them a debt of gratitude for putting a stop to behavior that would have haunted me forever if it had culminated in the action that I'd thought that I wanted. There were the eyes of my friends Mallymkun and Bayard, and those of my colleague McTwisp, and worst of all, the gaze of my sovereign, the lustrous White Queen, but all of their fear and disapproval was nothing to me when compared with the luminous chocolate hued stare of disbelief that was thrown in my direction by my lovely lady, Éclair.

I couldn't stand to see her watching me that way, as though she were afraid of, and possibly disgusted with, me, so I turned my attention back to Chessur, dropping down to one knee beside him. "I can never make you forget what I have done today," I whispered sadly, reaching forth with hands that were now gentled, tenderly examining the possible damage that I'd done to his throat. "I just hope that in the future, once you've had the opportunity to heal, perhaps you will find it in your heart to forgive me Chessur, because I am truly sorry for hurting you as I have."

He looked up at me doubtfully for a moment, and I thought that I had truly fouled things up beyond repair if the cat were looking at me in that fashion, this being who had always sought to find the humor in every situation; even those that really had no comedy whatsoever. He watched me in that fashion until I was just about ready to scream in frustration. What more could I do, what else could I say to make him, and everyone else, see that I was ashamed of myself for my actions, and that I desperately wanted and needed their forgiveness.

"I was rather enjoying that previous sparkle in your eye, Tarrant," he spoke at last, his voice raspy from the strangulation he'd just endured at my hand. "Why so glum, my friend? You should know me well enough by now to know that I don't hold grudges for very long."

It was heartening to hear his words, and to see that devilish light take hold of his eyes once more. "Are you saying that I have earned your forgiveness Chessur?" I whispered, still feeling a tad unsure as to whether or not I was indeed safely out of the woods just yet.

"Come now Tarrant, it's not as though this was our first disagreement, and I'm quite positive that it won't be our last," he answered, disappearing for a moment before rematerializing on the floor next to Claire. He took full advantage of the fact that I was guilt ridden at that moment, preening and posing beside her, knowing full well that she hadn't noticed his presence. He did push it a tad too far after that, growing a little too brazen and cocky when he slid his paw beneath the hem of her dress, pulling it out so that he could look up the skirt. "It's a pity that I am not capable of wooing you, my dear," he purred, causing Claire to gasp with shock and scurry backwards away from him. "I am not a true expert of such things, but for a human female I would have to say that you are very nicely shaped and have the most tantalizing fragrance that I have ever been afforded the pleasure to draw up into my nostrils. It makes my mouth water with ravenous delight, as a matter of fact."

Claire's eyes narrowed for just a moment and when they returned to their natural state I would have sworn that they were burning, and I waited to see if the chocolate hue would melt and run down her cheeks. She took one, and then two steps towards Chessur, who for some odd reason hadn't seemed to have caught onto the fact that life as he knew it was just about to cease to exist.

"You vile little monster," she hissed, reaching down a hand to remove one of her soft leather slippers, the ones that I had fashioned for her myself. It was only then that the cat realized the depth of his mistake, when she raised the slipper high above her head, swooping down upon him to deliver a stinging blow, which he avoided by disappearing into a puff of smoke once more.

"Come back and fight me, you coward!" my darling one yelled, racing around the room like a madwoman, searching high and low for where Chessur would make his next appearance. I knew that it was a lost cause. The cat had no concept of what proper speech and decorum were about, but he excelled at saving his own neck, and I had no doubt that he had already fled the room for a safer environment.

It was evident that no one was willing to make a move to stop Claire, or at least to calm her, so I knew that it was up to me to do so. It would more than likely betray our burgeoning intimacy with one another, but at that moment I couldn't have cared less about whether or not my actions were proper. I walked over to where she was crouched, looking beneath a table and muttering beneath her breath. I had a very nice view of her while she hunted for Chessur, noticing that when she was bent over the way she was that it caused the fabric of her skirt to tighten around her derriere, proudly and boldly displaying the wondrous curvature that was normally hidden from my sight. I could have stayed there for the remainder of the day, staring at her shapely backside, but then I remembered that there were others in the room with us, not to mention the fact that it wouldn't be very ungentlemanly of me to watch her in a manner that could be described as unseemly.

"Claire, darling," I said softly, not wishing to startle her. She tried to turn around, seeming to forget the fact that she was kneeling on the floor and in doing so lost her balance. She seemed doomed to crash backwards onto the lovely derriere that I'd just been admiring, but somehow I managed to bend down and catch her, saving her from a disaster of her own making, but in the process throwing both of us headlong into a brand-new catastrophe.

I managed to keep Claire from tumbling herself, but then I lost my own balance and fell forward, realizing for one terrifying moment that I was going to end up falling on top of her, but also knowing that there was nothing that I could do to avoid it. I tried to land on her as gracefully and as weightlessly as I possibly could, but I still managed to hit her hard enough to cause her to groan with pain. I would have moved away from her instantly, well at least once I'd gotten my bearings back, but my foot caught in the hem of her skirts and I dropped down on top of her once more.

Ah, if only this moment could have taken place in less mortifying circumstances, without the roomful of witnesses gaping at the scene before them, then perhaps I could have enjoyed this forbidden and erotic sensation of my body lying between Claire's legs, but alas, that was not the case. She felt so wonderfully soft beneath me, so invitingly warm, and it staggered me when I realized that the most private part of my person was pressed intimately against something that was soft, but in a different way, and warmer than any other part of her body, and agonizing arousal like none I'd ever known before filled me and caused me to harden in a way that was both thrilling and terrifying...not to mention discomfiting.

Her eyes widened as she felt the push of me against her, instinct guiding me through a lack of experience as I sought the feel of her heat. I really wasn't sure what it was that I was looking for, but somehow I knew that it rested within my darling Claire, and that the rigid flesh that I'd soothed so many times myself wanted no relief from my hand, but from inside that warmth, that softness that I felt clothed beneath the skirts of her dress.

The erotic haze that had been cast over the two of us was penetrated suddenly by a discreet cough and it was like a dash of cold water to the small of my back, bringing my attention 'round to the fact that I should have risen from off of Claire some minutes before, and that I had been making quite a scandalous spectacle of myself. I hopped to my feet as quickly as was possible, grateful for the fact that my coat helped to mask the current state of my aroused flesh and bent to offer my hand to my darling, hoping that I hadn't humiliated her with my reprehensible actions.

She rose to her feet very gracefully, her eyes shining with what I first feared were tears of mortification and disgust, but what I soon saw were actually happiness and maybe even a small hint of wanting as well, perfectly complimenting the rosy tincture on her cheeks. She smiled at me somewhat shyly and smoothed the skirts of her dress, shifting her eyes toward the Queen and party who were watching us closely, with one or two looks of outrage, but all the others with a mixture of bemusement and wonder.

"Well now, wasn't that interesting?" Her Highness' words were filled with humor, lightening the last traces of awkwardness from the room. "We had come to inform you that there is to be a grand ball this evening, Mr. Hightopp. Perhaps you would be so kind as to escort Miss Quinn? I sense that you have become quite...attached to her."

My face felt as though it were on fire at that moment. Attached was a mild definition for what I felt for Claire, but I couldn't find the word that would be correct at this time either. I shied away from the concept of love out of self-defense, knowing what sort of harm an emotion like that could inflict. That being said, there was nothing that would have made me happier than to have Claire on my arm, and I turned towards her, hesitant to ask her, lest she refuse me.

"Would you allow me the honor of escorting you to the ball this evening, my darling Claire?" Damnation, I probably shouldn't have referred to her as my darling in front of everyone, but what was done was done and couldn't be taken back.

She curtsied to me, something that thrilled me immensely each time that she did it, "I would be honored to accompany you, Tarrant," she answered, pleasing me further with the usage of my Christian name in the company of others, a public declaration that our relationship with one another went beyond the bounds of mere friendship.

"Wonderful," Her Highness enthused, rushing forward to commandeer Claire's arm and bustle her away from me. "My attendants will help you to prepare for the ball Miss Quinn. You may meet with her in the ballroom at half past seven, Mr. Hightopp."

I would have liked to have spent more time with her, while the feel of magic was still in the air around us, but the time of day was drawing close to dusk and I needed to make my own preparations. Tonight would hold an enchantment all its own, I was certain of it, and I didn't want to be late.

Gauche-Lacking grace in social situations.

Claire's POV

Everywhere I turned there was someone watching me, and it was no wonder, given the gown that the queen's attendants had trussed my body into. It was a spectacular creation, finery that I would have never expected to feel against my skin, but the fit was much snugger than I was accustomed to, and the plunging neckline gave me all the appearance of a maiden who would grace the prow of a ship. Long story short, with my very generous curves packaged into the formfitting beauty of the gown I looked as though I were advertising my wares.

I was also plagued by guilt for wearing this dress when Tarrant had made me so many lovely gowns himself, but the girls had assured me that this was the best choice for me, this silk concoction that was a perfect match to the vivid blue hue of Tarrant's coat, making me hope that he'd be wearing it this evening. I was standing beside the white marble fountain in the center of the room, shielding myself as well as I could while I waited for my companion to arrive. My cosmetics had been applied by expert hands, the same hands that had artfully plaited and coiled my hair, piling it atop my head and adorning the mass with a deep blue, green and gold accented peacock feather. I had been more than a little shocked to see my image in the mirror, wondering when I'd blossomed into the woman who stared back at me.

There was a sudden burst of warmth on my neck and I whirled around to find that blasted cat Chessur hovering in the air beside me. His eyes traveled down and then back up the length of my figure as he smiled appreciatively. "Ah, my sweet forbidden goddess," he purred, licking his lips in a lascivious fashion as he looked at me in the manner of a starving man, with me as his long lost ambrosia. "Fate has been cruel to me, placing the soul of one who longs to ravish you into the body of one for which the act is not possible."

I felt my temper flare and strove to keep my breathing under control, knowing that deeper breaths would raise and lower my bosom in a fashion that would only serve to encourage the lustful wantonness of his gaze. "Evidently you still require a lesson in manners, sir," I hissed, wishing to strike him, but not willing to draw unwanted attention to myself. "Perhaps we should have allowed Tarrant to continue this afternoon."

The cat's self-satisfied smirk quickly transformed into a moue that was reminiscent of my former charges. "You have wounded me grievously, ma Cherie," he whispered, placing one paw over his chest and swooning dramatically. I should have stayed firm on my anger with him, but I just couldn't keep the smile off of my face while I watched him behave in that manner. "Stop that at once," I said, a snort of laughter ruining my attempt to sound stern. "Everyone is looking at you."

"Ah, my dear, it is not I that they are watching," he purred, his eyes making a journey up and down my body once more. "The ladies are thinking that you are a shameless hussy, displaying the curvaceous bounty of your figure in an attempt to lure their men away from them and the men are panting with lust, wishing that you would lure them away."

I looked around the glitzy ballroom, wondering if it could be true. I had lost myself in the opulence of my surroundings and had felt that I actually belonged in this world, rather than just being there as an outside observer, but could it be true that in fact I was only meant to be a joke, an entertainment for the gentry? But no, that would mean that the Queen's attendants had tricked me, had convinced me that I would be the belle of the ball, and that all eyes would look favorably upon me.

I would have liked to have burst into tears on the spot, but I refused to give anyone the pleasure of seeing me cry, not if they were already taking so much humor in me. Thankfully there was a side door, a handy escape route and I took full advantage of it, fleeing into the Queen's garden as twilight fell over the realm, bringing a momentary silence before the nocturnal creatures began their communications.

I sank beneath the cover of the tree that signified happy memories here in Underland for me, bringing my knees as close to my chest as the snug dress would allow. My arms were growing chilled as the sun bade its final farewell, making me wish that I had my pelisse with me...making me wish that I had Tarrant with me. It was just about the time when he would be entering the ballroom, and I had to wonder what he would hear about me, what manner of rumors were now circulating through the room?

"You'll catch your death of cold out here, my dear," a familiar voice spoke above me, a voice that I had longed to hear, but hadn't expected quite so soon. I looked up to see the dim outline of Tarrant, who brightened the situation in so many different ways, simply with his presence, and also by lighting the candelabra he'd carried out of doors with him. "I don't know why it is that you would place any stock in anything that deceitful feline said. Lying for him is the same as breathing is for anybody else. I don't think that he's capable of telling the truth at all, for the most part."

Had it been anyone else that said this to me I would have been inclined to believe that they were only humoring me, but this was Tarrant, and he wasn't prone to being dishonest. He dropped down to the ground beside me, placing the candelabra upon the grass and pulled me close to his side with an arm around my shoulders, his hands brushing away the goose bumps caused by the chill in the air and bringing new ones to life with the closeness of his body next to mine. I could see by the dim illumination that the candles provided that we complimented each other nicely, his bright blue coat a near perfect match to my dress, and he had accompanied it with a tartan printed kilt, the bright blue showing in the threads, along with a forest green and a gold that matched the feather in my hair. The attendants hadn't been lying to me at all when they said that my dress was perfect for me.

"That is a stunning ensemble you know?" Tarrant said, lowering his eyes to the bounty of flesh that was visible thanks to the plunging neckline of my dress. "It makes me want to go back into that ballroom and blind the memory of you from every man's eyes, knowing that they all wanted you."

In the past I would have been offended by someone acting so possessively towards me, jealous behavior that bespoke of a desire to own me, but I felt a shiver of pleasure course through me to know that Tarrant felt that way. "Somehow I doubt that every man in attendance was enraptured by me," I answered, snuggling closer to his side. "It's not as though I'm irresistible."

He smirked for a moment before pulling back on my body with the arm around my shoulders, lowering me to the ground. He hovered over me for a moment, waiting to see if I'd protest, but I wasn't inclined to do so anytime soon. "You're irresistible all right," he murmured, lowering his body in an imitation of what had happened this afternoon in the solarium. "If you weren't I wouldn't be having the thoughts that are coursing through my mind right now, nor the need that is flowing through my body."

It was fortunate that my gown was snug against my body, because my knees weakened at that moment and my thighs were tempted to fall open, to allow me to cradle him against that secret part of me that ached for him. I was an innocent, but I wasn't so naive that I didn't know the mechanics of what took place between a man and a woman, and this was the first time in my life that I'd ever felt the impulse to be that close to a man...to be that intimate with Tarrant.

I wouldn't allow myself to give into those needs, no matter how tempted I was, because our relationship was too new, we were still learning about one another. There wouldn't, however, be any harm in doing some exploring. As a matter of fact, I'd say that it was a necessity at that moment.

"Am I behaving too boldly, darling?" he whispered, trailing his lips around the hollows under my cheekbones, kissing his way to my lips. "I won't be too terribly naughty, I promise, but you need to stop me now if I'm carrying things too far."

It would have been wise for me to say yes, but I didn't feel like being wise at that moment. "Kiss me, Tarrant. Please kiss me," I whispered, running my hands back behind his neck, pressing myself against him. He stared into my eyes for just a moment and then bent his head to honor my request, his lips capturing mine gently at first, then with a growing hunger that parted my lips, offering him full access to me.

He swept his tongue inside my mouth, and my tongue met and greeted it, tasting the sweetness of chocolate housed within him, knowing that he could taste the champagne that I'd sipped while I waited for him to arrive. He raised me up off of the ground, his arms encircling behind my back as he closed any and all space that may have remained between us. His lips trailed away from mine as he brought his mouth to my throat, his tongue running over my neck, thrilling me with tiny nips of his teeth to the sensitive flesh beneath his mouth.

One of his hands stole around from my back to my front, holding one side of my throat while his mouth conquered the opposite side. I writhed shamelessly beneath him, something welling inside of me that was almost impossible for me to control. It was a new sensation for me, this desire that I felt for him, and while the thought of it consuming me was a frightening one, it was also quite exciting.

His hand slid down slowly from my neck, lightly tracing over the fullness of my breast before traveling northward once more to boldly, yet gently grasp my softness in his hand. I hadn't prepared myself for such a thing to happen and I gasped with surprise and from the pleasure of his touch. Unfortunately for me he mistook the gasp of delight to be one of pain and he quickly moved away and off of me, leaving me feeling empty and cold without the warmth and hardness of his body against me.

"Oh Claire, I'm ever so sorry," he said, reaching down to pull me up into a sitting position. I would have liked us to continue our exploration, but common sense said that it was best for us to stop before things went too far. "It was unforgivable of me to behave in that fashion. I never meant to hurt you, my darling."

"You didn't hurt me at all, Tarrant," I answered, stretching languorously before getting to my feet. "Maybe you're not aware of it, but women like to be touched in that way, by a man that they desire...at least I know that I liked it. You just caught me by surprise, that's all."

He smiled happily and got to his feet as well, and I tried to pretend that I didn't notice the fact that his kilt was raised a few inches by the swelling beneath the fabric. I had a vague idea what was taking place under there, and I was thankful for the fact that it was dark outside, so that my blush was hidden from him.

"They'll be missing us back at the ball," he whispered, stepping close to me and kissing me on my cheek. "We'll stop and straighten our appearances and then we'll head back to that ballroom and show everyone what a proper futterwacken looks like."

He fetched the candelabra to light our way and we set off for the castle, our bodies still humming for one another, but with my spirit considerably lighter than when I'd entered the garden. I felt refreshed, I felt renewed, I was happy, but I was also confused.

What on Earth was a futterwacken?