A/N: OK, I was going to update this morning, but I'd gone out shopping. So maybe you all did, too. Anyway, here's chapter 10.

Chapter 10: The Gumdrop Marshes

After further discussion with everyone as to how they would attack the rat army, General Caramelin resolved that they would set off together as a band of four. He directed a tin soldier of a lower rank to have the troops follow suit two hours after they left. With these plans made, the general, Satina, Peter, and Clara stocked supplies before continuing their journey. The Gumdrop Marshes was the next location on the agenda, also marking three-fourths of the way to the palace. Despite the goal almost being reached, the mood among all four travelers was decidedly grim. News of Mozzarella's horrid plot was a game change.

Caramelin, though expressionless on the outside, possessed deep emotions regarding his own family. Veronica, his beloved wife, meant the world to him. He remembered in considerably great detail their courtship when he was just an upstart captain and she the belle of the ball. They had met at the Christmas ball at Marzipania Palace as a matter of fact.

Now, eleven years later, they had a five-year-old son and a beautiful baby girl. If the Mouse King had his way, this ideal family life that Caramelin led would be shattered. And he could not let that happen.

Satina still had her anxieties over the family she loved and would protect at all costs. If they lost miserably at the battle, the war might as well be thrown away. With Mozzarella's cruel devices, she would no longer have the capability to protect her family.

And between Clara and Peter, there was currently an awkward strain. To Clara, it definitely hadn't been that long ago when she had asked him if she could fight alongside him, and he'd readily said yes. But, when he vehemently responded with "no" when she volunteered her services again, she secretly deemed him to be a flat-out hypocrite. Was he just joking when he'd told her yes the first time? Clearly.

When she chanced to look back toward Peter, she noted that he had his arms folded in front of him as he trudged slowly. Even when he had given her her way, he sure hadn't looked too pleased about it. If anything, when she had grinned out of delight that she would get to assist her friends, he'd turned his back toward her. Ha, she knew what it was. He was worried about his princely ego taking a beating if she so happened to outshine him on the battlefield.

"Well, that's not gonna happen on my watch," Clara muttered acidly under her breath before taunting, "So, Peter, I guess you let sexism win out, huh? Too scared that a girl just might kick some rat boo-tay out there. Oh God forbid that should happen."

Peter let out a hiss of frustration, perturbed that her thoughts would be along those lines. "That's not it at all, Clara."

"What is it then?" She turned toward him, paused until he caught up with her, and proceeded to walk in step with him. "Because what happened to the whole 'of course you can fight' and 'I'm not sexist' concepts?"

"Look." He barely held out patience. "This was before things got serious."

Apparently, he implied the possibility over the whole population laboring in the silver mines.

"You promised me," she retorted, her lips forming into the thinnest line she could force them into. "You said you would let me fight if it was necessary. I understand this is a big battle, and there's a lot of risk involved. So—"

Peter interrupted, "I don't think you do understand."

"Shut up! Don't interrupt me like that. I'll be fighting for a damn good reason and—"

"No, you shut up!" he yelled at her back. "Is this all some game to you? If you mess up, it's game over. And you'll have no one to blame but yourself."

Tears welled up in Clara's dark eyes before she weakly replied, "Go to hell," and ran ahead of him.

So much emotional hurt overwhelmed her that she even sprinted past Satina and Caramelin shortly before the first tear fell.

"Clara, we have to stick together," Satina spoke up before Caramelin put a hand on her arm.

"I doubt she will wander far," he logically surmised. "I overheard her shouting something at Nutcracker. She's getting away from him."

Caramelin was an expert at logic and strategy for a reason. True to his word, she hadn't wandered far as they got into Gingronia Forest (a larger forest than the one near the cookie house village), and she sank down to her bottom, her back against a maple tree. As determinedly as she could, she attempted to blink back her stupid, self-pitying tears. This had the opposite effect once they streamed down her face.

It was just...more than anything, she'd longed to help Peter out, to do whatever she could to avoid being a burden. The one guy she had expected not to be this way wound up being the one to treat her like a fragile doll. What he lightly agreed to back at her house was only to humor her. That was it, nothing more. Next up, he was probably going to start talking down to her, in order to humble her and to patronize her. At this stage in their quest, she would have thought they'd come along further than that.

Surrendering to her immature need to cry like a baby, she put her head down between her knees and sobbed. Her shoulders shook from releasing so much rage, disappointment, and some anxiety over the future.

She remained in this position until she heard leaves crunching under someone's booted feet, and their owner sitting next to her. What was different from the time they'd had only a brief spat over her holding back on vital information was that an arm draped around her shoulders. The other arm coaxed her into a full-on embrace.

"Shhh," he hushed her. "It's OK. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you, Clara. This is heavy stuff I was talking about."

Maybe if she stayed mad at him, she could stop crying or at least stop acting weak. Instead, Clara buried her head against Peter's shoulder, soaking up all the comfort she could get.

"You'll let me fight, right?" she asked in muffled tones.

She heard a dry chuckle from him. "Yeah, since I can't go back on my word. But, you gotta try not to get hurt, OK? I was worried about seeing you hurt. That's why I snapped earlier."

"Why would me getting hurt matter to you?" Clara realized that he seemed to get tenser when it came to her fighting rather than Satina, who was his friend, too. What difference did it make other than Satina's swords and daggers?

Peter pushed her back from him a little, prepared to say something to her, but Satina and Caramelin intruded just then. The latter actually appeared to brighten up over some prospect.

"We are only yards away from the marshes," he remarked approvingly. "Which means that we will be close to facing off with those good-for-nothing rats. We'll teach them not to mess with our kingdom!"

Satina smiled. "Well said, sir. And since the fort is near the marshes, he ought to know where they're exactly located."

Eager to get back on the old dusty trail, Clara sprang to her feet, certain that no cares would disturb her calm thoughts. And she hated taking her negative emotions out on poor Peter. She internally scolded herself for snapping at the really likeable nutcracker for the third time. How immature and juvenile did he think she was at this point? Did he look down upon her? It didn't seem that way when he laid a hand on her shoulder.

"I'll never be mad at you again," Clara promised. "I hate it."

He grinned down at her. "Don't sweat it. No one can be a saint on a long, epic quest like this one. Besides, we get along for the most part, don't we?"

Hearing his teasing tone when he said "for the most part", she laughed merrily. But, it was true. Throughout most of this journey, they'd been getting a little bit closer and a little bit closer. Though, granted, she'd taken her cheap shots at him a couple of times, there was definitely a friendly, more intimate vibe between them now. More than ever before, she figured. And even if she did get cranky sometimes, she would never forget how fun this had been.

On toward the Gumdrop Marshes they headed, and she could hear some bubbles pop before they even got there. Something told her that this would be the most imposing obstacle they'd faced yet. Admittedly, in comparison, Hercules hadn't been much of an obstacle.

"Here we are," Caramelin told them, peering back at them over his shoulder to check to see if they'd caught up. "The Gumdrop Marshes."

Apparently, the gumdrops acted as stepping stones to aid one in getting through all the muck of the swamp. Green, purple, red, and blue gumdrops remained afloat above a sticky yellow mass that stretched for quite a few miles horizontally. Vertically, they could just make out the other side, the side ever nearer to the palace and the side that was their objective.

Satina glared at the swamp. "What is that yellow stuff?"

To answer her question, Peter knelt down, tentatively scooping some of the yellow goo out. Appalled, Clara wondered if he would dare to eat it. A few more bubbles popped in what rested on the wooden palm of his hand. It didn't look remotely appetizing. In fact, her stomach churned at the mere sight of it.

Peter sniffed the goo. "I think it's supposed to be banana flavor taffy."

Taffy? Who would've thought that taffy could comprise a whole, entire swamp?

Still, Clara wrinkled her nose. "Ugh, I hate bananas."

"They're a delicacy where I come from," Satina mentioned to no one's surprise.

As the four of them surveyed this part of the forest further, they observed that there were three trees growing here. Vines hung off them, almost as though they could be used as ropes. Putting two and two together, Clara gulped at the likely possibility she would have to use them to swing from gumdrop to gumdrop. Luckily, most of them could be reached within a jump. Still, there had to be a catch.

Caramelin provided her with one. "These gumdrops will sink if there's too much weight on them—meaning if you stand on them too long or there're too many people on one at once. With that said, I'll go first. And once you follow, here's a bit of advice. Try the best you can not to fall into that taffy. Terrible mess. It might be a little hot too, if the bubbles don't tell you anything."

Personally, she had no idea why the adult in the group should go first, but beggars couldn't be choosers. Caramelin had long legs, being approximately 6"4', that proved to his advantage. He jumped from gumdrop to gumdrop quite rapidly, never hesitating. There were twenty-five in all that he stepped on to reach the other side. Yet, he got there in about five minutes.

Satina was next. "I think you might need Peter's help, Clara. So, I'll go on ahead. Be careful, you two. You're my new friends, and I don't want you hurt."

"Yeah, Mom," Clara joked. "You better go if you're going."

Satina moved as swiftly, if not more so, than the general had. With her tutu somewhat spread out with her speed, she looked like she was practically flying. It wasn't shocking that with her athleticism and elegant finesse that she didn't struggle either. Maybe Clara had over-thought this when she figured it would be difficult. Two members of their expedition party made it through successfully. Now, it was just her and Peter left. Hopefully, they would go smoothly, too.

Peter gestured her to go. "You go on ahead. I'll be behind you just in case."

Hm, wasn't he getting a bit overprotective of her? Oh well, better safe than sorry.

For the first ten gumdrops, Clara felt that she was progressing pretty well. Though slower with her jumps, she could at least land them. She was impressed with herself for crossing the swamp without too much effort. If she was lucky, she wouldn't have to bother with the dangling vines.

Unfortunately, the twelfth gumdrop started sinking almost as soon as she landed on it. This didn't make sense. She barely stood on it for a second. Frantically, she grappled for a vine and, despite pathetic upper body strength, managed to pull herself up slightly. Releasing a tense sigh, she squeezed her eyes shut. Apparently, there was a trick gumdrop that neither Satina nor Caramelin had lingered on for too long. She gingerly hung there, gripping so hard on the vine that her knuckles turned white.

"I hate being the damsel in distress," she complained, ashamed that she would be hurled into this position. Like all other Claras in most Nutcracker adaptations, she could do nothing but just be there.

Peter called out to her from the eighth gumdrop, "I'm coming, Clara!"

"Yeah, you better get on that!" she shouted in response, her eyes gradually opening. She had to assure herself that as long as she didn't look down for a fraction of a second, she would be OK.

Oh God, she looked down! Her feet dangled a mere three feet above the bubbling taffy. She despised bananas, never caring much for their strange sweetness, much less flavoring. If she let go of this vine, she would have it not only in her mouth but on every part of her body. She would be useless as a sticky girl for the rest of the adventure. And she'd gone too far to even think of ruining it for herself now, much less for everyone else. Not to mention the temperature of it could be unbearably hot. What if she died?

She cringed when she heard herself whimper, so she bit her lip to stop. Peter was almost there, just a gumdrop away...

Too late! No! Palms sweaty, her strength running out, she lost hold of the vine. She screamed, ready to meet hot, sticky, and disgusting banana taffy.

"Got you!" Peter, on the thirteenth gumdrop, reached out (well, practically lunged) for her and caught her. She was safe in his arms. Alleviated from that awful stress she'd experienced, she breathed out a sigh of relief.

He gazed down at her. "Figures you'd be on the trick gumdrop."

"Well, you encountered a 'monster.' It's my turn for bad luck now."

"Guess so." He tucked away a loose strand of her hair. "What would have been worse luck, though, is if you fell all the way in. Smelling of banana for the rest of the journey. That wouldn't have been too fun, would it?"

As he jumped across five more gumdrops, with her still in his arms, Clara thumped at his shoulder. "No, it wouldn't have. Jeez, Peter, you're always teasing me."

As they approached the opposite bank, he ran his hand through her hair entirely, sending an unconscious shiver through her. "I like messing with you. Makes me unpredictable, don't you think?"

Don't swoon, she warned herself, though her hands began shaking. "Yeah, I guess so. I like that about you."

"Good," he whispered, a smile flitting onto his mouth.

Oh, she guessed this meant they were all made up.

When he set her down on the bank, she couldn't lie to herself. Almost instantly, she missed the feel of his arms around her. This got too serious in more ways than one. Especially since her friendship with Peter might be...could be...more.

Satina smiled at her. "That was a close one, Clara, I must say."

"Yeah, well." She shrugged. "Peter and I had already worked out a strategy in case something like this should happen. My luck, it did."

Caramelin then walked on over to them to advise, "We must stop to make camp soon. The sun is setting."

So, they continued on, searching for a decent spot for camp. Clara took a backward glance at Peter, who stared intently at her. Her heart beat at what felt like a hundred miles an hour.

A/N: I figured that the Clara and Peter having an argument would add a bit of realism to this chapter. After all, I was thinking that they'd started getting along a little too well. This isn't Bella and Edward here. Blech, Twilight. The last one better not do better than the last Harry Potter movie box office-wise. I will...Nah, whatever.

So, what did you think of this exciting installment? Care to drop in a review? By all means, don't be shy!