I actually finished this last week, but decided to save it for today, seeing as it's actually Easter Saturday/Sunday (depending on the country you live in). Thought it'd be cool to - hope my sense of humour isn't too lame :D.
Sorry about the rushed and sloppy ending, The Vampire Diaries was on TV while I was writing this (yeah, I'm sure obsessed with vampires), so I got trememdously distracted. I had a huge problem not including Damon into the story - I love that guy!
Told from Bella's POV. Thanks for reading and the reviews!
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'Have you been invited too?' Valentine asked, attempting to open the giant letter without breaking any teacups.
'I? No,' the hatter said mournfully. 'It's always tea-time, I can't –'
The white rabbit that had misnamed Edward as William scurried up to our table.
'What! Still here!' he said sharply. 'Come on, quick, or we'll be late! And I'll thank you,' he added irritably to the hatter, 'not to keep them in for tea so long next time!'
'It's always tea time,' the hatter replied gloomily. 'I can't help it.'
'Well, they've got to go, at any rate,' the rabbit said, indicating us. 'Hurry, we can't dawdle about all day!'
'Sure, sure,' Cid replied, only too happy to leave the mad tea party. Without another word the rabbit turned and bounded away. We all stood up; I shot back a quick glance as I left the table to see if the three companions were coming, but they had resumed their tea.
The white rabbit led us to a beautiful garden planted with red roses. However, some of the roses were splotched with white and red, as though someone had tried to paint them. Whether this was the case or not I never found out, for the sound of footsteps soon approached.
'The Queen! The Queen!' the rabbit mumbled fearfully, and scurried away to form a procession that came marching our way. Alice cried out in surprise, for she had spotted the members of the procession: walking cards.
Ten cards carrying clubs came along, and judging by the way they swung their clubs, I guessed them to be soldiers. Next came the courtiers adorned in diamonds, then the gardeners, shuffling their spades nervously, followed closely by ten happy little hearts skipping together in couples.
Guests came after the forty cards; the other queens and kings of clubs, diamonds and spades. The white rabbit was among them, bounding along and nodding at everything that was said to him. A small gap separated the last of the guests from the Knave of Hearts who carried a crown on a velvet cushion, and last of all, the King and Queen of Hearts appeared.
The King looked quite timid, but his wife, on the other hand, looked savage and ill-tempered, as though someone had committed her a great wrong. I was wondering what the great wrong was when the process stopped in front of us. I straightened up automatically and tried to look respectful, though all the time I reminded myself that they were only made out of cardboard, and therefore unlikely to hurt us.
'You're late,' the Queen said to Valentine crossly.
'Oh. Sorry about that,' he replied.
'What kept you?'
'Er –'
'I see,' she interrupted coolly, though how she could possibly see when Valentine hadn't given her a reason was quite beyond me. 'Off with his head!' she shrieked and marched off. Three soldiers came forward, brandishing their clubs menacingly while everyone else moved away.
Valentine's eyes flashed dangerously, and his gloved hand drifted slowly towards his gun. The soldiers stopped, hesitating, and the King stepped forward. He cast a nervous glance at the retreating back of his wife, then said to Valentine in a low voice, 'you're pardoned.' The soldiers moved away instantly.
'Is his head off?' the Queen shouted when she spotted the soldiers.
'Yes, your Majesty!' they lied in unison.
'Excellent!' she shouted, then looked at Valentine (whose head was obviously still sitting on his shoulders). 'Can you play croquet?'
Edward and I glanced at each other in confusion. Evidently, the question was meant for Valentine, but hadn't she just acknowledged his death?
'No,' he replied, looking just as puzzled as us.
'Then learn!' she roared and thrust a live flamingo into his arms.
'To your places!' the Queen shouted, and the soldiers began to dish out flamingos to everyone. I took mine and looked at the Queen for further directions – what was the use of a flamingo in croquet?
I saw the Queen hold her flamingo upside-down by the legs, and it was only then that I realised the birds were intended as mallets. Poor things, I thought.
There weren't any balls on the ground, nor were there any arches.
'How are we supposed to play when there aren't any balls?' I whispered to Edward, keeping a careful eye on the Queen.
'The hedgehogs,' he murmured.
It was probably the dumbest game I had ever played. The hedgehogs were the balls, but they kept unrolling. Though there were plenty of flamingos, there weren't enough hedgehogs, and soon players began to fight over them. The soldiers were supposed to be arches, but they were so weak that they couldn't form an arch long enough for a hedgehog to pass through. It never occurred to anyone to take turns, nor to use a more stable form of archway.
All of this put the Queen of Hearts into a passionate fury. She argued with the guests who were so lost in the game that they forgot to be careful and argued back, and the conflict was only resolved by her shouting, 'off with his head!' or 'off with her head!' By the end ten minutes there was a huge line of prisoners.
'Hello, my dear!' The ugly woman who had nursed the pig appeared in our midst. She tucked her arm affectionately into Valentine's, who looked uncomfortable and tried to pull away, but to no avail. She then attempted to rest her chin on his shoulder, but seeing as he was marginally taller than her she achieved nothing more than bumping her chin into his elbow. She gave up, and her gaze settled on Alice.
'And who might you be?' she beamed, letting go of Valentine and swooping onto Alice instead. Since Alice was around the same height as her, the woman succeeded in restign her chin on her shoulder.
'Umm, Alice.'
'Alice!' the woman nearly cried in happiness. 'Why, your face has changed quite a lot!'
'My…face?' Alice asked blankly.
'Why, yes, and your hair shorter too! Did you take the Mad Hatter's advice?'
'The Hatter told him to cut his hair.' Alice pointed at Valentine.
'Two of a kind! Two of a kind!' the woman said, and dug her chin into Alice's shoulder. 'And the moral of that is, "when there's two of one, then both will profit".'
'Moral?' Rosalie repeated scornfully. 'There isn't a moral in that!'
'Of course there is, child!' the woman said indignantly. 'The moral of that is…ah, greetings, Your Majesty.' Her voice quavered with fright. The Queen stood in front of us with a wrathful expression on her face.
'Leave now!' the Queen roared. 'Or your head will be off!'
The woman scurried away. Breathing like a wounded rhinoceros, the Queen turned to us. 'There's hardly anyone left,' she commented.
'Couldn't put it any truer,' Edward muttered, for during the time the woman had been talking to us the Queen had put everyone except herself, the King, and us, under execution. Even the executioner had been sentenced to death.
'What did you say?' she snapped.
'Your beauty is incomparable to all the roses in the world,' Edward lied smoothly. She smiled at him.
'Have you seen the Mock Turtle?'
'No.'
'Well then, you'd better pay him a visit.' She led us away from the people in custody, and as we left, the King of Hearts said quietly to all the unfortunate prisoners, 'you are all pardoned.' If the Queen heard, she gave no sign.
'Wow, a gryphon,' Alice gasped as we came across a half-eagle, half-lion drowsing in the sun.
'Up, lazybones!' The Queen kicked it awake. 'And take these people to hear the Mock Turtle's story. I'm off to oversee some executions.' She stomped off and the gryphon sat up.
'Hjckrrh!' It coughed and rubbed its eyes. 'Alright, come on then!' It bounded away and we hurried to catch up.
In the distance, a lone figure stood outlined against the rocks, looking so forlorn that I felt sorry for him. The creature (which I assumed to be a Mock Turtle) was a curious turtle animal that had a pig-like face. He looked at us with red, puffy eyes, then buried his face in his flippers and began to weep.
'What a depressing fellow,' Cid said to Alice in an audible whisper. 'He's as melodramatic as Vincent.'
'I heard that,' Valentine said. Cid grinned at him.
The gryphon stopped in front of the Mock Turtle. 'These people would like to hear your story.'
In response, the Turtle climbed down from his rock and looked at us with heartbroken eyes.
'Sit down then,' he said finally. 'And don't interrupt.'
We all sat down and waited patiently for him to begin, but he never did. Eventually, Cid began to stand up, but was stopped when the Mock Turtle said surprisingly, 'I used to be a real turtle.'
Perhaps he meant it as a revelation, but no one seemed impressed at this. Sounding annoyed at the lack of attention, the Turtle continued, 'we went to school in the sea –'
'What did you learn?' Alice asked.
'All the regular subjects,' the Turtle sobbed. 'And some extras. French, music and washing –'
'But what would you need to wash for!' Cid exclaimed. 'You were in the sea, were you not? There'd be no point in washing, everything'd be wet already!'
'I never took it,' the Turtle sighed, 'so I don't know what it's like.'
'What else was there?' I asked before the Turtle could start crying again.
'Well, there was Drawling. I understand that you younglings don't learn it at school anymore, but back in my days we…' he broke off and began to cry again. I looked around desperately for a tissue, but the Turtle had already bent down. He picked up one corner of Valentine's ragged cape with both flippers, mopped his eyes, then blew his nose noisily into it.
'Oi!' Valentine snarled and snatched his cape out of the Turtle's flippers.
'What?' the Turtle said, looking surprised.
'Do you mind?' he snapped, sounding most unlike his usual calm self. 'I wear that, you know.'
'You wear it?' the Turtle repeated disbelievingly. 'I thought that was just some scrap fabric!'
'You ought to be ashamed of yourself,' the gryphon told Valentine, 'wearing rags like that out in public. Anyone would think you were poor or something. You're not, are you?'
'Of course not!' Valentine said indignantly.
'The trial's beginning!' someone cried in the distance.
'Come!' said the gryphon, leaping up at once and bounding away without saying goodbye to the Turtle. 'Come away, old fellows!'
Valentine almost tripped over his pointy boots in his haste to get away.
'Whose trial is it?' Alice asked as we left the Mock Turtle behind.
'Oh, I don't know,' the Gryphon replied. 'They change the accused every year.'
'Hang on,' Emmett said. 'We can't just go carting about this place. We need to grow and get back home.'
'You're not coming?' The gryphon looked disappointed.
'No,' Emmett replied. 'We're not from here. Do you know how to grow?'
'Sure,' the gryphon answered. 'Go to the hallway and eat some cake.'
This answer was hardly encouraging.
'What cake?' Emmett asked.
'Under the glass table in the room.' The gryphon pointed at the base of a tree we hadn't noticed before. 'I have to go now. Goodbye!' He bounded away.
'Look!' Rosalie exclaimed, bending down slightly. 'There's a door in the tree trunk!'
Emmett jumped down from her shoulder and attempted to wrest the door open; but he was so small that it was hardly effectual. Edward brushed him aside and pushed the door open.
'Yep,' he confirmed. 'It's that hallway. I can see the glass table. You can go through if you bend down a bit.'
Emmett was the first to bolt through the door. 'I can see the cake!' he called out excitedly. 'I'll just take a bite and see –'
'Emmett, no!' Rosalie shouted 'What if –'
'It works, it works!' he cried out in delight. 'I'm growing!'
I craned my neck to see past Edward. Emmett was rapidly growing; soon he shot past us…past the glass table…and stopped. At his usual height. Rosalie crouched low and pulled herself through the doorway. She cautiously nibbled one end of the cake Emmett passed her, then she, too, grew.
Five minutes later we were all crowded in the hallway, restored to our usual heights. Valentine, holding his snotty cape as far away from his body as possible, managed to locate the portal. There was the familiar rush of sound and swirling greenness, then we found ourselves back home in the basement.
'Whew,' Alice sighed contentedly. 'Home sweet home. I'm going back there next Easter.'
***
That ends the Alice in Wonderland crossover. The story's going to resume being a bit more serious too, so I hope you guys won't mind too much. Thanks again!
