Yay, my longest chapter so far! :) Once again, sorry for the long wait, I will try to get it up sooner! Oh btw I'm not sure if I've said this before, but Kwogedonn is dedicated to my younger sister Molly and belongs to him! She helped me come up with him and his name :D
My friend Xiao keeps saying I should do a copyright thingy, so here goes: The plot, Otherland and OCs belong to me, so its not ok for people to use them without my permission :P I don't really see why thats necessary, but ah well...
Disclaimer: I don't own Alice in Wonderland! :'(
Chapter 12- The Enemy of My Enemy is My Friend
Alice
The heavy door opened, and one of the troll guards hurried in. They shoved a tray of food through the bars of my cell, spilling half of the contents in the process, before hurrying back out. Another came in and thrust one at an angry, muttering goblin-creature a few cells down from me. He threw it against the wall, and glared balefully at the guard as he exited. Quietly, I picked up my tray and some of the food that had spilt, and went back over to sit on my hard bed. The food was tasteless and bland but I was used to it by now, and anyway I was too hungry to care.
When I'd finished, I took my hunk of uneaten bread and tossed it down the corridor to the goblin. Grudgingly, he took it and nodded at me. It had become a routine. We never spoke, although we were the only creatures who'd survived the past week. The others had all been dragged away, screaming horribly. I'd gathered that the King suspected him of being a spy and a traitor, and wanted information from him. But he refused to give it, and the guards were baffled as to why he hadn't dropped dead out of hunger yet.
A few minutes later, a human guard entered, and settled down to watch us both. Silence fell in the cells, and I curled up on my bunk, wondering for the millionth time when I would get out, if ever. When the guard had brought me back to the empty room, he had taken me out of the birdcage and set me on the table, while another had brought in a dress for me, to my surprise. Half an hour later, the potion had worn off and I grew back to my normal size, along with my boots and the photograph. The next morning, they took me to the cell where I'd remained for the past week, devoid of human contact.
The King had come to visit me on the day I got my new cell. Closing my eyes, I rewound to that scene.
*Flashback*
The King stood outside the bars, smiling pleasantly at me. 'How do you like your new accommodation?'
I shrugged. 'It's a metal cage; how can I like it?'
'True,' he admitted, still smiling. 'But this is quite a big cell, and well-lit. It's close to the entrance too, so you will get your meals first.'
'Must I thank you for that?' I asked resentfully.
'It would be polite,' he replied with a shrug, moving away from the bars. He turned to some of the other prisoners, and questioned them, before turning to leave. Before he did, he addressed me again. 'Miss Kingsleigh, I have given orders that every two days you shall have access to have a bathroom where you may wash and clean yourself.'
I stared at him, taken aback. 'W-Why?' I finally said. 'Not just the bathroom – why did you give me a dress and a "nice" cell as well?'
He sighed, then stepped closer to the bars and beckoned me forwards. Hesitantly, I walked over to where he stood. He leaned close, and whispered quietly; 'Miss Kingsleigh, I may be a tyrant king, your enemy, and someone to be feared, but I am and always was, a gentleman first and foremost. You may hold me to that, if nothing else.' Then he whirled around, and was gone. I stared after him, open-mouthed in bewilderment.
*End Flashback*
And he'd been true to his word. Every two days a guard would appear to escort me to the bathroom, and two maids stayed in with me to make sure I didn't escape. A couple of days ago, I'd even received a new dress. Like the first one, the main colour was black, but this one had purple trimmings, and shades to it. I much preferred it to the other one.
The door swung open again, and I grinned, sitting upright. 'Kiar!'
The great Kiarkaris dipped his head in greeting and lay down beside the bars of my cell. The guard seemed about to protest – he was new – but Kiar narrowed his deep plum-coloured eyes at him, and he fell silent, acknowledging the threat and sitting down with his back to us. Then my friend turned his attention back to me.
We had become friends, on the second day in my new prison. He had come down to the dungeons, and stood staring at me, until I had finally snapped and asked him what he wanted.
He had frowned and looked at me hard with his bright, inquisitive eyes, evidently confused how to respond; as if no one had ever asked him that before. 'I want to learn, and to understand,' was the slow answer.
Now it was my turn to frown. 'Then why are you here?' I had asked, my anger slowly fading.
'For the reasons I just said,' he had replied. 'I want to learn. I want to learn about Underland.'
My jaw had dropped, and I'd stared at him with surprise, expecting it to be a joke of some kind, the King's orders no doubt. But as he remained calmly before my cell, I had realised with a jolt that he was serious. 'I don't know that much about Underland,' I'd admitted humbly.
His gaze was unflinching. 'You know more than I do.'
And so, our strange friendship had been born, and only grew stronger since then. Kiar was both a good listener, and a clever storyteller. I'd told him everything I knew or could remember about Underland, and slaying the Jabberwocky, and in turn he'd told me about Otherland, and his race; the Kiarkaris. From him, I'd learnt that the King's full name was Sagredver Talorius, and that he'd been on the throne for thirteen years, which was a lucky number in Otherland. Because of that, this year was expected to be a good one, for the kingdom and for his rule. He was loved and feared equally by the citizens of Otherland, although he had not been the natural heir. In fact, he'd only come to the people's notice sixteen years ago when he had risen quickly through the ranks of the army, impressing many, and had become the old king's favourite, soon displacing his son as heir. The King had seen a lot of himself in the young Sagredver, and preferred him to his biological son Fenardo, who was kind, generous and completely unsuited to maintaining the terror state of Otherland. When the old king had died and Sagredver was crowned, Fenardo had been sent off on a quest, to certain Doom everyone said. Most people thought of it as a tragic accident that could not be helped, when he was attacked by Granesmrars. It was a fact of life in Otherland; Granesmrars were known for their non-pickiness when it came to victims. Only a few suspected that the King had arranged for the Granesmrars to kill him, and those that voiced their suspicions were swiftly and silently disposed of.
The troll guards soon got used to him coming and going; they valued their own lives too much to tell the King where his Kiarkaris was. I thought it strange that the King's own mount was the one to tell me all this. And even stranger that while he talked to me, his eyes would occasionally flash a bright blue for a short half second.
We chatted of non-consequential things for a while, mainly castle gossip, until we both fell silent. Today was my turn to ask questions for him to answer, and he was waiting expectantly, while I fidgeted and wondered what would be best to ask him.
It had struck me, the day before, that despite him being my friend, I knew very little about him. Though he had told me a lot about his race in general, he had stayed clear of personal details, or personal anecdotes. I knew he was kind, honest, brave and intelligent, and I knew that he was not as loyal to Otherland and its king as he pretended to be. I knew that he was curious like me, and wanted to know everything he could about different worlds. I knew that he lived at the castle but didn't call it home, nor seem to spend a lot of time with other Kiarkaris. I did not even know why his name was that of his breed. But today I resolved to find out.
'Kiar,' I began, and he looked up, ready to face the next question. I took a deep breath, and blurted out the first two of my questions. 'Why do you serve the King, if you don't really want to? And why are you friends with me? I'm a traitor, your country's enemy.'
His eyes turned darker, and an angry, brooding look passed over his face. He rose, and began to pace back and forth along the cold corridor, shifting his great black wings on his back restlessly. The goblin and the guard shrank from him, and for a moment, I saw the fierce warrior he was, and for the first time I saw the first Kiarkaris I'd met in him – the terrifying, deadly, eight-foot tall Monster, with red eyes glowing. But I quickly shook off this image. Kiar had purple eyes. Not red. Glowing, amethyst eyes. 'Kiar?' I called softly. 'You don't have to tell me if you don't want to.'
He shook his head. 'No. You asked. It just brings back a lot of bad memories – mainly to do with my family.'
His family? An image of Hatter, kneeling before me in the ruins of his former home, recounting his terrible history and loss came to my mind. This was much the same, and I mentally scolded myself for being too curious. But I couldn't take back my words now.
The giant deer-monster lowered himself down to the stone ground before my cell again, and I came and sat closer to him, by the bars. He began his answer, eyes gazing past me into distant memories.
'To thoroughly answer that question, I must start at the very beginning, before I was even born. You see, we Kiarkaris have a sort of…royal family. And my family is that royal family. We have always been allied to the kings and queens of Otherland, as a result. We Kiarkaris pose the biggest threat to the Otherland human monarchy, although you wouldn't believe that nowadays as we appear to be such close allies. But our natural intelligence; our strength; our numbers are all a great threat to the kingdom, and the only way for them to override that threat is to make friends of us. And so it has been since the very early days of Otherland. To cement our friendships, every new monarch, or leader, will be honoured by a gift from the other race. When our last Leader was appointed, the King at that time named one of the tallest of the mountains after him, and decreed that all land around it, and a couple of neighbouring peaks, would be reserved for the Kiarkaris. And when Sagredver Talorius' coronation took place, that Leader announced that his gift would be none other than the best of his race's foals, which would be given to the King, as his own personal mount, even if it was his own colt.'*
I gasped as the implication of his words hit me. 'That was you?'
He nodded, and I caught a glimpse of the hatred, anger and injustice burning in his eyes, before he regained his control and they became hard and cold once more. 'The King was ecstatic with this gift, as it is a great honour to ride a Kiarkaris, never mind the best. He did not even mind waiting for it to grow and mature.
'So the search began, for the best foal. And two years after the promise was made, they found him. He was born to one of the Leader's mates, nonetheless. Everyone who saw him – me – said that none with greater potential had been found. My father was a strong, brave Leader and my mother had been the daughter of the previous one. I grew up unaware of my so-called "great" destiny, and I only learned of it when I reached my fifth year. When I reached full maturity at seven years old, I was presented to the King and have served him since then, for the past four years. I was never given the choice.'
We sat in silence. I was too stunned to say anything. It seemed barbaric that such a wild, untamed, free creature as Kiar should be sold off, as what was fundamentally a peace offering. I realised that I'd been wrong; it was not the Hatter he had much in common with. I not only sympathized; I empathized with him. His past reminded me of my own; of the expectations and constraints of the Victorian society I'd grown up with. It seemed both Upperland and Otherland were prone to that kind of evil, which to my dismay, made me wonder if Underland could be too. 'I – I'm sorry I made you recount that,' I finally said, firmly pushing my previous thoughts to the back of my mind.
'Don't be,' he replied. 'It would have come out sooner or later. And it is only the truth.'
'Is that why you're friends with me?' I asked tentatively, alluding to my other question. 'Why you're not completely loyal…'
'That's a part of it,' he said, frowning a little. 'When I became the King's – possession – every instinct in me longed to rebel, and flee the confines of his castle and both his and my family's ever watching gaze. Only the thought of my family's disgrace stopped me, and also, where would I go? The loss of freedom, of my own free will, of my name even, all of it hurt my natural pride, though with every passing year I've buried the pain deeper and deeper. In fact, before you appeared, the King and I were getting along quite well.' He didn't seem angry about that – far from it.
I laughed, and he joined in with me, his rough, deep voice echoing throughout the dungeons. I saw the guard gaze with blatant astonishment, as if he'd never seen a Kiarkaris laugh before. Come to think of it, he probably hadn't.
When the laughter faded away, I suddenly remembered his words. 'Wait – your name?'
'You didn't think Kiar was my original name, did you?' he replied with a snort. 'Believe me; the Kiarkaris are far more creative than that.'
'Then why does everyone call you it?' I retorted defensively.
'When I became the King's, the name my mother had given me at birth was forgotten. Literally, forgotten. Neither she nor I nor anyone else can remember it, as it has always been. When I choose a side, the King will rename me. For now, he and everyone else call me Kiar.'
'When you…choose a side?'
I could tell immediately I'd touched on something he didn't want to talk about. He shifted and muttered something vehemently to himself, before rising suddenly. 'You there. What time is it?' he demanded, glaring at the guard.
'Forty-five minutes to seven in the evening, sir,' the poor guard stammered, jumping to his feet. He wore heavy black armour, while a long, jagged blade hung by his side, but he was still genuinely terrified of Kiar.
'My apologies, Miss Alice, but I must go,' he said formally to me, the previous warmth in his tone gone.
'Kiar, what's wrong? Why are you going?' I asked, bewildered by his sudden change. 'Was it something I said? If so, I'm sorry, I won't ask ag-'
'No; I have to meet the King,' he interrupted. 'He – he's expecting me.'
'I don't believe you,' I accused him.
'That's not my concern,' he snapped back at me.
I took an involuntary step back as he voiced those harsh words. Because as he had done so, for a split second, his eyes had flashed to that terrifying, danger-filled, glowing Red.
'Farewell, Miss Alice,' he snarled, and turned to leave.
'Fairfarren, Kiar,' I said quietly, still too stunned to move, as he disappeared around the corner.
'That word's forbidden!' the guard growled angrily, his courage returned with Kiar's absence. I silenced him with a look, before returning to my hard bunk and curling up into a ball. The only sound in the dungeons was the goblin's sudden outburst of manic laughter. The guard sullenly turned his back to me, and amused himself by polishing his long sword.
As I drifted off into an uneasy sleep, my last thought was that however Kiar acted towards me, whatever colour his eyes turned, he would still be my friend.
Kiar flew over the castle, savouring the familiar feel of the cold air on his wings. It was true that he did have to meet the King, but not for another hour. So he flew alone, far above the tall, jagged mountaintops.
However hard he tried, he couldn't stop his thoughts from drifting back to Alice, and their conversation. Kiar, you idiot! He chastised himself furiously. You good for nothing hummel!** Think of all you told her! Think of what you almost gave away! Think how ashamed your family would be of you, if they learned that you had been telling a girl of Underland; the ultimate enemy, the lesser known facts of the Kiarkaris? Nay; not just ashamed; incensed! She has no right to know so much! But as soon as he thought it, he began to question it. Did she have the right? The human Champion had been kind to him, as few had been since he'd entered the King's service. She'd supplied him with the stories and takes he'd long hungered for, she'd listened to his past with genuine interest, and had agreed with him on the injustice of it, as no one had done before. She had not been insanely terrified of him, as the majority of mindless humans in the castle were. And she had had such adventures as he had never had the chance to have, and probably never would now. These thoughts tormented and plagued his mind, fighting against his stubbornness, determined to win.
His thoughts were still unresolved when he slowly returned to the castle, and made his way to the throne room. The King greeted him gladly.
'Kiar!' he cried with a smile.
'Your Majesty,' Kiar bowed his head to his master, and acknowledged the other lords present with a nod of his head. Sir Laghiard, Lord Rothgram and Lord Hygar stood at the foot of the gold and marble staircase, while the King stood above them on the fifth step.
'I thought I should give you all an update on the situation concerning Miss Kingsleigh,' the King announced, resuming his seat and clasping his hands before him. 'As you all know, she has been in this castle a week now. I mean to pay her a visit tomorrow, but before then, I thought it only fair that my key men should be filled in.'
The men straightened up proudly in response, squared their shoulders, and assumed an air of self-importance. Kiar watched them with amusement, as he remained where he stood towering effortlessly above them.
'And so, let me begin,' Sagredver went on. 'She has been in the castle for seven days, and before that, according to the Hag, four days…'
Kiar tuned out most of the conversation, as much of it he already knew - although the others didn't - and focused instead on the internal battle in his mind. He had still not reached a conclusion, when ten minutes later, his attention was caught again, at the mention of five others in the game. Possibilities swirled around his head as he listened to the men talk.
'…reported that they have only ventured outside of the forest once, three days ago, to steal a potion from a Hag's cottage, in all likelihood the same one that Alice got her's from. He couldn't see which one they took though, and the Hag hasn't returned yet so they cannot question her. Unfortunately they were in and out too quickly for the Kiarkaris to alert the Granesmrars. Now however, they have been seen close to Karzaron; on this very mountain in fact, but still buried deep and shielded by the forest.'
'Cowards!' Lord Hygar sneered. 'If they had any courage, they would come out and fight like honest men.'
'To be fair, Hygar, there are only five of them,' Sir Laghiard reluctantly pointed out. 'I would be doing the same, if I was in their position. My advice to you, my King, is to make sure the castle is secure and guarded well at all times. They may be able to outwit the two Kiarkaris shadowing them, but they cannot outwit a Fortress.'
'You speak well, my dear Laghiard,' the King replied. 'It shall be done as you say.'
'I admit, I would take a great pleasure in slaying an Underlandian,' Lord Rothgram declared, eyes glinting savagely as he fingered his gleaming sword. 'Is the threat of the Trees really too great for an ambush party, my Lord?'
'Yes!' Sagredver snapped. 'Have I not already confirmed that? Together, they managed to defeat twelve of the finest Granesmrars. Do not be so reckless, Rothgram. What hope do you, or any other man, have against them if the Granesmrars have failed?'
'I apologise, my Lord,' Lord Rothgram muttered, kneeling before him and bowing his head.
'I shall excuse it this time,' he said with an irritated sigh. 'But do not allow your foolish wishes get the better of you again, Rothgram. This is not the first time you have spoken without thinking in my court.' Lord Rothgram flushed a deep red, and remained kneeling on the marble floor. The King made no sign for him to get up. Kiar took his chance.
'Your Majesty?' he raised his voice.
'Yes, Kiar?' the King replied, smiling pleasantly at him.
'These people you talk of...they are Underlandians?'
'Yes, where have you been?'
'Forgive me, your Majesty. But is it a coincidence that they are here, at the same time as Miss Kingsleigh?'
'Certainly not!' He was impatient with the Kiarkaris now. 'They are the "rescue" party, sent out for her by the Queen of Underland, I assume.'
'Does Alice know?' The question jumped out of his mouth before he could stop it. Of course she doesn't know, don't be an idiot! Wouldn't she have mentioned it to you if she did? He thought this angrily.
'I don't believe so,' the King frowned. 'You think we should tell her?'
'I...yes.' She deserved to know that, at least, he thought. Better that than her being ignorant. Maybe they could work out some way to save them. As he listened as the King and his men continued to talk, the full gravity of the situation hit him. They were discussing the best way to kill Alice's friends; Alice's Underlandian friends none the less! And he was expected to join in. His blood ran cold at the thought, his noble side revolted, and he thought to himself; I can't! I can't allow them to do that! I mustn't! In that second, Kiar realised that the people in the room with him were his true, heart-felt enemies, and not Alice , who was strangely enough and most definitely his friend.
Not one person in the room noticed the great Kiarkaris start, nor saw the flash of bright blue in his eyes directly afterward. No; not one person noticed the difference, but one creature saw and furrowed his brow suspiciously. One creature by the name of Kwogedonn.
'How likely is it to work?' Mally asked, for what felt to everyone like the millionth time.
'Mally don't fret; it'll be fine!' the Hatter assured her, as he twisted the bottle cap in his hand. Million – what a lovely M word.
'How do you know?' she snapped, fierce protection and worry in her eyes. 'How do any of us know? We don't. You don't know, we don't know, none of us have any idea what the Hag could have put in her potions. Perhaps she labelled them wrong!'
'Don't be silly, Mallymkun,' the Cheshire Cat admonished, appearing next to her his face unusually solemn. 'The real danger is that it is the right potion, and it won't work, or it'll go horribly wrong. Or will cast him into the dreams of someone else altogether.'
'The Cat speaks the truth,' the beech tree they stood under said seriously. 'Before you undertake this dangerous task, you would do well to consider the risks, Mr Hightopp.'
'I have!' he cried impatiently, eyes briefly flaring orange. 'I know I risk getting lost in between dreams or forgetting how to return or enjoying them too much to return or getting entangled in the wrong dreams – '
'Hatter!'
'– or never waking up again,' he finished calmly.
Chessur shook his head in disbelief. 'And none of that makes you want to turn tail and run?'
'I am not a slurvish coward, Chessur, unlike some.'
'I never said that I would, just that if I was in your position, I would want to!' Chessur growled indignantly, waving his tail back and forth angrily.
'Chessur! Tarrant! This is solving nothing!' interrupted Absolem sternly. He stared hard at both of them until they looked away, ashamed. Then he spoke again. 'I agree with Tarrant that while it is unfortunate, and a great risk, it is our only chance of communicating with Alice.'
'Is it necessary that we communicate with her?' Mally asked huffily.
'Right now, it's all we can do,' replied Absolem gravely. 'If we attempt to leave the forest at all, we shall be picked off like carrion. No doubt the King's fortress is doubly guarded against intruders. Our only hope is that Alice can escape from the inside. If that fails, we may at least see how she is faring.'
'Tha' wee lassie may be nae mar'!' the Hare suddenly exclaimed, from the corner where he had been rocking back and forth, glaring at the small bottle in the Hatter's bandaged hand.
'That is true,' one of the Trees whispered, her voice laced with sadness. 'Karzaron is a fearful place; and she has been an inhabitant there for a week.'
'I'd use the term "prisoner" if I were you,' Chessur offered.
'No,' Tarrant said, adamant. 'I would have known, if Alice died.' This he believed without a doubt. If his – the – Alice was 'no more', he would feel it in his heart's core, in the very marrow of his bones. Because he knew that if that most unthinkable of unthinkable thoughts came to pass, he would no longer be able to go on, as his life would lose any meaning it had gained since the Horunvendush Day.
'If Tarrant says so, then it must be so,' Absolem said decidedly. 'Chessur, do you have the hair?'
The Cat nodded, and produced a single golden hair, that had been obtained from the bundle of Alice's belongings that the Trees were now keeping for her. The Hatter held out the potion, and Chessur carefully lowered it into the bottle. When it met the liquid, it was immediately sucked in, and the potion bubbled violently, before finally settling.
Pushing his nervousness and madness aside, the Hatter sat upright and looked up at his friends. 'Is there anything else I need to know?' he asked.
'No; no,' the Trees whispered together, their voices a soft murmur in the sudden breeze.
'Nothing more,' Absolem confirmed.
'Well then. Fairfarren, my friends.' With that, he resolutely swallowed a mouthful of the golden-yellow liquid. To his surprise, it tasted sweet, but he refrained from taking another mouthful as Absolem had warned him.
'Be safe, Hatter,' Mally whispered from where she stood next to his side. Her usual bravado was brushed aside by worry, fear and concern for her old friend. He managed a weak smile before the drowsiness dragged him back to the hard ground.
'Sweet dreams, Tarrant;' the half sarcastic, half serious voice of the Cheshire Cat was the last thing Tarrant Hightopp heard before he succumbed to the effects of the potion and closed his heavy eyelids, sinking deeper and deeper into the insubstantial, treacherous world of Dreams.
A/N: I'm sorry if there are too many references to Victorian society& people are getting bored; I recently did a school essay on that subject so it's still fresh in my mind! I loovvee reviews, they make my day :D even short ones! Criticism is welcome too, I need to improve! :)
*A colt is a young male horse, less than four years old.
**A hummel is an antlerless male deer, so I'd say a common insult in the deer species that grow antlers!
xxxx
