Chapter 21: The First Test
Feliciano clenched his jaw as his shoulders screamed at him. He turned in a slow half circle, back and forth back and forth, with his legs curled towards him.
He had reached the end of the rope and god above he was still a good story and a half above the ground. Looking up, the young Jack whined softly. He could probably crawl his way back up the knotted sheets and drag himself in through the window. There had to be some other way out of the castle that didn't involve broken bones or a concussion.
He dared himself to look down. As best he could, Feliciano huddled against the stone wall when the snow below spun.
"Feliciano,"
Closing his eyes again, Feliciano curled further in on himself. As if hanging on the side of a castle wasn't bad enough, now he had voices in his head again. Or, just maybe…
He yelped when the rope jerked.
Looking up, his heart stopped short. He felt sick, his gut twisted up in relief and terror. At least, he thought bitterly, Ivan wasn't looking out the window and smiling down at him.
The knot slipped a bit more, jerking Feliciano as the silk sheets almost dropped him
"No, no, no, please..."
"Feliciano, let go."
"What?!" His hands shook, knuckles screaming in a white haze of pain in protest his death grip. His grip nearly slipped and it made him scramble, feet kicking wildly against the snow-covered wall. "No!"
"Feliciano, trust me," The wind became gentle around him. It caressed his frost bitten cheeks with a tepid breeze. "I'll catch you. Trust me, Feliciano. I won't let you be harmed; you are needed for far too many things to take that fall just yet."
The more the gentle breeze spoke to him the more the young Jack found it felt like home. In front of him, the snow began to thaw and a scent of harvest time wheat and sunlight flooded his senses. Holding his breath, Feliciano nodded.
"Promise?"
There was a gentle chuckle, as soothing as the mock summer breeze on his back. "Of course. Be brave, my friend."
He nodded. Then, with the sensation of falling already in his head like one having a dangerous flying dream, the silk slipped from his grasp.
Warm air, heavy and fat like a summer gust, scooped up beneath him. It rushed around the wide-eyed Jack, billowing up his cape and creating a wild storm from his hair. Then, just as gently, it lowered him to the ground.
A single brush, like the gentlest hands, glided across his cheek.
"Brave little Feliciano. Please do not forget to come home soon, my old friend."
He blinked owlishly, sitting atop the snow. A faint image of the Queen, smiling patiently at him, flickered through his mind before a gust, true to winter's cold, bit at him and snatched away the imagery of home. Shivering, Feliciano forced himself to stand. Shoving his feet through the coating of ice, he pulled his hood up tight and began crunching towards the bordering forest.
He refused to glance back at the Emerald Palace despite all her lures. She was a dark debutante, illuminated by the black light of her king within. He would return, maybe, one day when that light was golden again.
As he entered the winter forest, Feliciano knew.
Clubs responded to her monarch's rage, reaching out to claw at the young Jack with barbed branches, scratching his cheeks and tearing his cloak. The wind howled now, buffering him and forcing the Jack to bend awkwardly to combat it. Beneath the snow, the sleeping ground awoke in tremors. He slipped now and then, falling every which way when a quake disturbed his steps and he was unable to crack the ice.
Yet, he persevered. Through the dark he traveled until the sun rose to greet him. East; he scowled and looked around. He had wanted North. Turning to the right, he tightened his tattered cloak about him.
Instead, the smell of smoke wrapped around him, brought by the newest onslaught of the wind, and he turned around. Between trees and their bare branches, he made out the beginnings of a chimney stack, thick grey smoke billowing from it.
Red, numb fingers rose to clutch at the chain beneath his tunic. The cold of the metal resonated back. Biting his lip, Feliciano shifted from foot to foot, each step making the softest noise in their snow prisons. He nearly turned North, but the lack of feeling in his toes drove him south.
As the young Jack approached the cottage, a dull rhythmic thud took over the quiet winter forest. He entered the clearing near the back of the small home and saw the frost clinging to the logs and double-pane windows, giving the small home the picturesque look of some fairy tale shack.
The anger of Clubs lessened in the small clearing. Trees no longer reached for him from beyond the circle and the wind held its breath.
Following the noise, Feliciano circled the snow-bound building. In front, he found an elderly woman wrapped in a tattered scarf and thickly knit gloves. She held an ax above her head. Feliciano jumped when she brought it down and neatly split a log in two.
"Are you just going to stand there all damn day or come give an old woman a hand?"
"Ah!" Feliciano scrambled over. He burst free from the thick snow surrounding the cottage in a flurry of flakes and the old woman tisked.
"Look at you; where in this frozen hell are you heading like that?" She shook her head. "Come and help an old woman out. It'll warm you up, right quick." Narrowing her eyes, the old woman nodded to the pile of wood. She raised an eyebrow when Feliciano fidgeted on the packed snow. "Do I need to spell it out for you, kid?"
"N-No, ma'am!" Rushing over, he began to stack up some of the smaller logs in his arms. She pointed to the empty wood box by the door, staring blankly at Feliciano until he moved to deposit them. When he returned, she held the ax out to him with a small smirk.
"You'll help an old woman out, right?" She laughed and a sprinkle of mirth lit up her maroon eyes. "Nice boys like you are a bunch of bleeding hearts for us decrepit types. We haven't much wood left, and this winter is brutal already. Makin' my poor old joints smart like a spring bastard."
He smiled now; laughed even. "Of course, ma'am." He took the ax from her, watched as she shuffled to the side to keep a narrowed gaze on his back, and then lined a log up on the stump. In a swift thump, he cleaved it in two.
"Such a good boy," she crooned behind him. He jumped when he felt her hands on his shoulders, and looking over found her admiring the firewood. "Now you just keep piling up those logs until that shed is nice and full and we'll see where we go from there."
She gave him a hearty pat that made him stagger forward. For such a slender creature she had an uncanny strength to her, Feliciano thought as he watched her shuffle to the cottage. When she disappeared behind the heavy black door, he turned back to the pile, placed another log upon the cutting block, and began all over again.
The sun was beginning to dip beside him by the time he was nearly done. All around the young Jack the snow was beginning to turn pleasant shades of oranges and pink. Halfway through his task, Feliciano had abandoned his cloak on a tree branch nearby and he now paused to roll up his sleeves. Just as he brought the ax down again, the door to the cottage opened and the wrapped up babushka stood on its step.
"You dumb kid; you'll work yourself to your death that way." She laughed, waving to him with a boney hand. "Come inside, come inside. Have something hearty and a rest by the fire; it's the least this old woman can do to repay such a kind boy."
Leaving the ax in the chopping stump, Feliciano quickly retrieved his cloak and headed to the warm house. With the woman's hand on his back, he was lead inside.
Instantly, Feliciano was greeted by a roaring fire across the room. Steam, delicious and thick, rose from a cauldron beside it. Its underbelly glowed red and its thick black handle was hooked upon a spick with a wooden spoon tied beside it.
"Go warm up your hands, boy. I'm damn surprised you can still have fingers after all that." She stripped him of his cloak and ushered him over to the flames, sitting him down on a hard chair so close that embers jumped out to lick at his boots.
Regardless, Feliciano toed his frozen feet free and stuck them closer to the flames with a content sigh.
"You'll toast your socks like that." The Jack nearly jumped out of his skin at a young voice beside him. Looking over, he found a little girl peering up at him with the roundest, bluest eyes he had ever seen. "Or singe 'em at the very least."
"Don't bother the boy, Wendy." The old woman scowled across the room. She looked up from her sewing to give the child a pointed stare. "If the idiot wants to set himself on fire, let him. Boy's most likely three quarters ice at this point. A nice toasty bonfire is the quickest way to thaw out if you ask me."
Wendy stuck her tongue out when the old woman looked back down to her needlework. She smiled at Feliciano's quiet laughter and turned back to devote her full attention to the shivering man. "What's a nice person like you doing so far out in the King's woods anyways, mister? Did you get lost? Nice people never come out this way, not that there's many nice people left in Clubs anyways. Plus, you don't look like you belong here; you stick out like a tree in the ocean!"
"Wendy."
"It's alright." Smiling, Feliciano tucked his feet under his chair. The sodden socks had a gentle warmth to them, though he was sure he would need to put them back by the flames before soon or they would freeze back over. "I'm actually looking for someone. He's a friend of mine."
The old woman cursed, having pricked herself while working the cloth.
"Is it a prince?!" Wendy scooted forward, resting her arms and cheek on Feliciano's thigh. "I would look for a prince."
"I don't know," Feliciano gently tucked a loose lock of hair, blonde as a summer's wheat, behind the child's ear. "He might be? He's a bear though, so maybe he's a bear prince? "
She gasped and sat up. "A bear prince?! He could eat you though!"
"Wendy..."
Shaking his head, the young Jack placed a hand over his heart. He couldn't help the bright laugh that escaped him at her terrified expression. His fingers brushed over the heavy metal beneath his clothing. It had warmed and brought an easy smile to his lips. "Not him. He's a very gentle bear, and a very dear friend."
The old woman placed the cloak beside her and stood. Walking over, she snatched a simple wooden bowl from the table. "Wendy, stop badgering the poor boy." Ladling thick soup into the bowl, she handed it to Feliciano. "That reminds me though. A bear passed by here not a few days ago. Big fella, odd to see out in the woods this time of year."
He stared at the woman, eyes wide and spoon forgotten half way to his mouth. "Re-really?! Which way did he go?!"
"Grandmother, now you're the one exciting him!" Wendy scowled at the woman and received an equally potent glare back.
Shaking her head, the old woman took up a seat by the fire. "He was headed North. Nothing good that way if you ask me. Witches and trolls; looks like he was asking for trouble, if that was your friend."
She tisked softly as Feliciano rushed to pull his boots on. "Sit down boy, there's only so far North he can go and by the looks of it you have a pretty good idea of the end destination. One night by the fire won't kill you; might just save your idiotic self. Folks don't just say it to hear themselves talk; the cold here'll snatch your soul up like a cruel general and leave your corpse in the wastes. And if he doesn't get you, surely the King's lion will. Sit, spend a night to warm back up, and you can head out in the morning with a clear head and all your toes."
She gave his knee a gentle pat then stood. Ushering Wendy away, she sent the girl on a mission to put together a cot for their guest. While she took up her sewing again, Wendy piled blankets upon blankets and pillows down in front of the hearth. She puffed out her cheeks when Feliciano stared curiously at her over his stew.
"Well? You need to get out of those clothes!" He choked and she groaned, stomping her foot like children often do. "You'll catch a cold like that and get sick and die! They're soaked!"
"But, they," frowning, Feliciano tugged at his shirt. He eyed the damp ruby red tunic sadly. "They're all I have."
He yelped when she shoved a large shirt at him. "Just wear this for now! Plus, wouldn't it be bad if someone saw you in those?" Wendy pointed to the bright red clothing, her pigtails tossing about when she shook her head in frustration.
In the end, the child had bullied Feliciano into the large sleeping shirt. He shifted uncomfortably beneath the blankets as his bare legs were quickly covered in goosebumps. He looked up when Wendy, having hung the last of his wet clothing by the fire, walked over.
She placed her small hands on the Jack's cheeks and leaned in, placing a kiss on his forehead. "Sleep well, Mr. Jack."
Before he could even voice a question, a heavy weight over came him. Responding to the spell empowered by the lulling warmth of the flames, Feliciano never even thought about fighting the urge. He lay down and nestled in the impromptu nest of blankets and pillows and in seconds was fast asleep.
"...poor Jack."
Wendy looked up. The old woman came up beside her, placing a bony hand on her small shoulder. "Working himself to the death."
"He has a mission," Wendy muttered quietly, looking down to Feliciano curled up in his bed. He wore a simple smile now; she wondered when he last slept as deeply as this. "And he's gone through hell's glittering castle to get here. He can do it, I know it."
"...he still has two more tests." Releasing her hold, the old woman walked away.
"Gilbert!"
Scowling, she shook out the cloak. Before her it turned into a marvelous robe of velvet and fur, held together by the glittering golden string from her spool. Turning her maroon eyes back to the girl, she smiled, finding Peter glowering at her with a puffer-fish expression.
"You're such a brat, Peter."
"You're the one that's being weird! "
Rolling her eyes, she stepped towards the Black Joker. Before she reached Peter, a shimmer in the air covered her, and Gilbert was the one to pat the boy's cheek. He scanned his fellow Joker's face for a moment before grinning darkly and pinched Peter's ear. "Also, what the fuck was up with that grandma crap! You're totally grounded."
"You can't ground me! We're both Jokers!"
"As your grandmother, I can!" Cackling, he dragged the spitting mad Joker over to a small set of beds set behind a thin wooden screen. "Next time, I'm the kid."
"Liar! You're too old; old man, old man!" He yelped when Gilbert hoisted him up into the air, then, just as swiftly, dropped him down onto the mattress, making the smaller Joker grunt. Glowering up at his albino counterpart, Peter folded his arms. "...You're a big fat jerk."
"I know," chuckling, Gilbert messed with the blonde's hair before retiring to his own bed. "Get some sleep, little Joker."
Rolling over to face the wall, Peter's pent up anger began to dissolve. He sighed and tried to glance around the screen, hoping to see Feliciano one last time before he fell asleep. Soon afterwards, he buried his head under the pillow and mumbled out a sullen good night to Gilbert.