He hesitated outside his room, leaning his head against the doorjamb as he tried to think. He had only just escaped from a banquet, and one thought that crossed his head was that the food had muddled his mind. The Queen's banquets did that to people, whether you ate her food or not. His mind had started clearing when two heart guards walked by. Seeing the general, they immediately stopped and went into a picture-perfect salute. He acknowledged them and waved them by. They marched off, talking in low voices.
Ignoring them, he sighed and pushed the black-and-red doors to his room open.
They opened into a large, relatively plain room with no windows. The carpeting was black, the walls were deep red. Pigeon's blood ruby, he decided for the thousandth time. In the centre, though to his left a little, was a table that was made out of some naturally red wood from the Forest, with a bowl of fruit on it. Apples, oranges... run-of-the-mill rarities that she left lying about. Fruit of any kind was rare in Wonderland. Except the rotten kind.
To the right, a bookshelf lay against the wall, made of the same red wood as the table. Books were piled carelessly onto it; he would straighten them later. As he went farther, he stopped, for another thousandth time, at a statue of the headless Cheshire Cat, apparently one of the Queen's favourite memories. He stared at it, no emotion crossing his handsome features. He turned away and gazed at the panel that separated this room from his living quarters.
It was almost all window; about eleven feet high and sixteen feet long. About two feet at the bottom was wood, as well as the frame. The stained glass, frosted for privacy, depicted an ancient battle that Alice had fought all of those years ago. It showed her and her friends on one side... all eight of them. The Cheshire Cat, Caterpillar, Mayor Elder, White Rabbit, White King, Gryphon, Bill McGill and the Mock Turtle. On the other side were Alice's foes (that weren't on the Queen's wanted list, of course): the Centipede, the Tweedles, the Hatter... here his lip curled into an undeniable sneer, and he proceeded. There was the Red King alongside the Queen, and then there was the Jabberwock. Behind all of these were their forces, and pathetic-looking subjects - dwarves and the like - in the foreground marvelled at them in their power.
His brooding gaze turned to the centre. One would have thought that it would hold something staggering, like the blunderbuss or the Heart of Darkness. But it was an ordinary pocket-watch, but it had staggering significance. For all of them.
He stepped up to it and the doors slid open. He stepped into his room, and didn't bother to hide the wince of disgust at it. This room had red walls as well, but the carpeting was white. The room was somewhat heart-shaped, so much of the furniture and the walls were angular, but it was so big that it was not easily noticeable, about which he was fairly relieved. There was a long desk/bureau to his right that bent in the middle, keeping close to the wall. Just beyond the end was a walk-in closet, with about four rails and five drawers. Every uniform there was unique, and he had already picked the one for the ball.
Turning, he surveyed the bed. It was heart-shaped as well, but this was done so ostentatiously that absolutely no one could mistake the shape. He winced; he hated that bed.
Ignoring the bed and the calling, he turned and surveyed a small desk that was up against one of the smaller straight sides. It was the simplest object of furniture in the room, and this is where he sat. Glancing at the door once, he pressed a button under his chair, and the entire floor revolved, leaving an exact replica of the desk and chair- only without a button or occupant.
He was in a small, dark room with a low ceiling and a few low beams. He bumped his head on one as he paced, and he swore at it. Then he sat down at the chair and stood up again. This repeated several times until it appeared as though he had made up his mind, and he sat and pressed the button.
Soon after, he was walking at a fairly good clip towards the throne room. The Queen's servants and subjects glanced up as he entered, but soon resumed their conversations. The Queen herself was seated on her throne, brooding about something.
"What ails you, Majesty?" he asked.
"Nothing of your concern, General."
"Then may I give you news that I have discovered?"
"What might that be? Tell me what it is about before you tell me what it is."
"It is about Faith, Milady." She grew first worried, then angry, and a hush settled over the throne room. He remained calm. He had known that mentioning Faith in front of the Queen's subjects was not the best of ideas. Faith was the only one that the Queen feared, and to alarm her in front of the court could mean death.
"If you want to keep your head, General, you would be more careful."
"I apologise, Milady. May I give you the news?" She thought it over carefully.
"In four words or less, General."
"Faith is coming."
Exhausted, Mara leaned against the trunk. She was positive that she had been to every compass direction on that tree, and she felt no closer to finding Cat than she had at the start. Rabbit had said that Cat had instructions for her. She yawned.
"You took your sweet time," Cat drawled behind her.
"Rabbit said you had instructions for me," she said, shaking off the sleepiness.
"Oh, did he?"
"Yes, he did," she said impatiently. Then she decided that she'd spent entirely too much time with Rabbit as of late.
"Do you remember Caterpillar, Faith?"
"Mara. Stinks, unpleasant. Smokes too much. What about him?"
"I wouldn't ask you if he didn't have a purpose."
"You mean I have to talk to him again?"
"Very quick you're getting to be."
"Shut up!"
Cat laughed at her irritation and didn't reply.
"So does he still laze around his mushrooms and ask annoying riddles? Or is he portable and straightforward?"
"He is the rock of Wonderland," Cat replied silkily. Mara grimaced.
"I adore your comparisons," she ground out.
"Why, thank you. I'm rather fond of them myself." With that, he vanished. She sighed and peered over the edge. The next fungus was about a foot below her. She did a little math in her head, and decided that at three inches, a foot would twenty feet at five feet tall. Frustrated, she jumped off of the fungus, landing safely on one about a foot and a half below on another bit. Then she jumped again, slipped, and landed on the ground with a thud and a yelp. Ignoring the ladybugs circling overhead, she started walking in the direction that she had originally been going, and was fairly relieved to meet up with Rabbit.
Rabbit saw her progression down the tree and winced as she hit the ground. Cautiously he hopped closer then ducked under a blade of grass as a ladybug flew overhead, bearing a particularly large acorn. It didn't see him, and continued on its path. He hesitated and saw Faith take out a deck of cards. Once the ladybug was close, she sent the deck flying at it. He could swear he heard it shriek, and he watched it fall to the ground, thirty-two razor-like cuts crisscrossing its body. The acorn landed a short distance away from them both, and he was relieved that she had killed the bug so soon.
"Come along, Faith! We are very nearly there!"
Mara nodded, panting, and when Rabbit turned his back, kicked the ladybug's carcass once or twice, pressed down on her heavily bleeding elbow, and then followed.
"Can't you slow down any, Rabbit?" she groaned, and clutched at the stitch that was prominently throbbing in her side. He turned his head briefly in negation and darted between two blades of grass. She followed, and the second she was in the open a rose broke out of the soil and started shooting thorns at her. She yelped and backed up behind the grass. It was cheap protection, however; a thorn nearly tore through. "What the hell?" she muttered and peeked out, knife in tow. When she saw that the rose was stuck solidly in the ground, she felt braver and stepped out, throwing the knife as thorns whistled past her.
It sliced through a thorn that was coming at her and continued on unhindered until it struck the base of the flower, and it stopped shooting. She didn't trust it, and threw her knife again for good measure once it reappeared. The rose sagged, and fell to the ground, leaving an acidic pool of sap behind. She jumped over it but landed just short, as per usual. When the acid started eating into her boots she threw herself forwards, landing on her stomach.
Struggling up to a sitting position on her knees, Mara looked over her shoulder, checking the damage. "Erm..." she muttered in surprise, noting that the left heel was almost halfway burned off in the back. She stood shakily, checking to see how badly it impaired her motion. She paused at the imbalance and tore them off, checking them from the side. One heel was about a quarter-inch lower and she ruefully dunked the higher one in, already missing that height.
A strange noise from nearby startled her and she stood, abandoning the boots for a moment. An ant was silhouetted through a blade of grass, its musket trained on her. Mara didn't stop to think as she drew out her knife and threw it. But almost immediately after she felt the ball go deep into her, somewhere between her chest and her left shoulder. She gasped as she felt the bullet stop at her shoulder blade, embedding itself inside the muscle. She leaned forward and sat, not caring that the ant had survived, though its condition was comparably worse than hers.
Rabbit hopped back, searching for Faith again, and heard the sound of musket fire. Ordinarily, that would be the last thing he would be running to, but he knew that the only one that they would be firing at was her. "HOLD ON FAITH!!!" he yelled, and set himself at full speed to the sound.
He stopped dead when he found them. The ant was completely crumpled, trying to breathe through the blood that gushed out of his throat. Rabbit stared, horrified at the sight, though gratified that it was an ant soldier and not Faith. Then he turned to her and recoiled from the wound in her shoulder. "Faith!"
"No, I'm all right," she rasped.
"Liar! What happened?" He hopped all around her, checking the wound, making sure it wasn't deadly, and only stopped when she batted him away with her good arm.
"It had better be will that determines where these things go," she threatened. "If it isn't, I'm toast."
He didn't want to agree, but he had to admit that it seemed that she was totally right in that count. "Listen, Faith. It's your will that determines where those weapons of yours go. We are very nearly to Caterpillar. Come, we must hurry!"
He saw her wipe some the sweat and dirt off of her face and out of her eyes and stand, clutching the knife in her other hand. For a moment he stared. "What is it?" she asked, sounding confused. He shook his head again, and nervously hopped around, almost dancing between her and the ant.
"Get your boots on," he said tersely. "We must get going." Without waiting for her to reply, he took them up, muttering about time-wasting, and waited impatiently as she pulled them up and tied them one-handed. If she hadn't been so awkward he would have screamed.
He was undeniably relieved when she finally managed to tie them, and bounded off the second she was standing. She followed close behind.
Ignoring them, he sighed and pushed the black-and-red doors to his room open.
They opened into a large, relatively plain room with no windows. The carpeting was black, the walls were deep red. Pigeon's blood ruby, he decided for the thousandth time. In the centre, though to his left a little, was a table that was made out of some naturally red wood from the Forest, with a bowl of fruit on it. Apples, oranges... run-of-the-mill rarities that she left lying about. Fruit of any kind was rare in Wonderland. Except the rotten kind.
To the right, a bookshelf lay against the wall, made of the same red wood as the table. Books were piled carelessly onto it; he would straighten them later. As he went farther, he stopped, for another thousandth time, at a statue of the headless Cheshire Cat, apparently one of the Queen's favourite memories. He stared at it, no emotion crossing his handsome features. He turned away and gazed at the panel that separated this room from his living quarters.
It was almost all window; about eleven feet high and sixteen feet long. About two feet at the bottom was wood, as well as the frame. The stained glass, frosted for privacy, depicted an ancient battle that Alice had fought all of those years ago. It showed her and her friends on one side... all eight of them. The Cheshire Cat, Caterpillar, Mayor Elder, White Rabbit, White King, Gryphon, Bill McGill and the Mock Turtle. On the other side were Alice's foes (that weren't on the Queen's wanted list, of course): the Centipede, the Tweedles, the Hatter... here his lip curled into an undeniable sneer, and he proceeded. There was the Red King alongside the Queen, and then there was the Jabberwock. Behind all of these were their forces, and pathetic-looking subjects - dwarves and the like - in the foreground marvelled at them in their power.
His brooding gaze turned to the centre. One would have thought that it would hold something staggering, like the blunderbuss or the Heart of Darkness. But it was an ordinary pocket-watch, but it had staggering significance. For all of them.
He stepped up to it and the doors slid open. He stepped into his room, and didn't bother to hide the wince of disgust at it. This room had red walls as well, but the carpeting was white. The room was somewhat heart-shaped, so much of the furniture and the walls were angular, but it was so big that it was not easily noticeable, about which he was fairly relieved. There was a long desk/bureau to his right that bent in the middle, keeping close to the wall. Just beyond the end was a walk-in closet, with about four rails and five drawers. Every uniform there was unique, and he had already picked the one for the ball.
Turning, he surveyed the bed. It was heart-shaped as well, but this was done so ostentatiously that absolutely no one could mistake the shape. He winced; he hated that bed.
Ignoring the bed and the calling, he turned and surveyed a small desk that was up against one of the smaller straight sides. It was the simplest object of furniture in the room, and this is where he sat. Glancing at the door once, he pressed a button under his chair, and the entire floor revolved, leaving an exact replica of the desk and chair- only without a button or occupant.
He was in a small, dark room with a low ceiling and a few low beams. He bumped his head on one as he paced, and he swore at it. Then he sat down at the chair and stood up again. This repeated several times until it appeared as though he had made up his mind, and he sat and pressed the button.
Soon after, he was walking at a fairly good clip towards the throne room. The Queen's servants and subjects glanced up as he entered, but soon resumed their conversations. The Queen herself was seated on her throne, brooding about something.
"What ails you, Majesty?" he asked.
"Nothing of your concern, General."
"Then may I give you news that I have discovered?"
"What might that be? Tell me what it is about before you tell me what it is."
"It is about Faith, Milady." She grew first worried, then angry, and a hush settled over the throne room. He remained calm. He had known that mentioning Faith in front of the Queen's subjects was not the best of ideas. Faith was the only one that the Queen feared, and to alarm her in front of the court could mean death.
"If you want to keep your head, General, you would be more careful."
"I apologise, Milady. May I give you the news?" She thought it over carefully.
"In four words or less, General."
"Faith is coming."
Exhausted, Mara leaned against the trunk. She was positive that she had been to every compass direction on that tree, and she felt no closer to finding Cat than she had at the start. Rabbit had said that Cat had instructions for her. She yawned.
"You took your sweet time," Cat drawled behind her.
"Rabbit said you had instructions for me," she said, shaking off the sleepiness.
"Oh, did he?"
"Yes, he did," she said impatiently. Then she decided that she'd spent entirely too much time with Rabbit as of late.
"Do you remember Caterpillar, Faith?"
"Mara. Stinks, unpleasant. Smokes too much. What about him?"
"I wouldn't ask you if he didn't have a purpose."
"You mean I have to talk to him again?"
"Very quick you're getting to be."
"Shut up!"
Cat laughed at her irritation and didn't reply.
"So does he still laze around his mushrooms and ask annoying riddles? Or is he portable and straightforward?"
"He is the rock of Wonderland," Cat replied silkily. Mara grimaced.
"I adore your comparisons," she ground out.
"Why, thank you. I'm rather fond of them myself." With that, he vanished. She sighed and peered over the edge. The next fungus was about a foot below her. She did a little math in her head, and decided that at three inches, a foot would twenty feet at five feet tall. Frustrated, she jumped off of the fungus, landing safely on one about a foot and a half below on another bit. Then she jumped again, slipped, and landed on the ground with a thud and a yelp. Ignoring the ladybugs circling overhead, she started walking in the direction that she had originally been going, and was fairly relieved to meet up with Rabbit.
Rabbit saw her progression down the tree and winced as she hit the ground. Cautiously he hopped closer then ducked under a blade of grass as a ladybug flew overhead, bearing a particularly large acorn. It didn't see him, and continued on its path. He hesitated and saw Faith take out a deck of cards. Once the ladybug was close, she sent the deck flying at it. He could swear he heard it shriek, and he watched it fall to the ground, thirty-two razor-like cuts crisscrossing its body. The acorn landed a short distance away from them both, and he was relieved that she had killed the bug so soon.
"Come along, Faith! We are very nearly there!"
Mara nodded, panting, and when Rabbit turned his back, kicked the ladybug's carcass once or twice, pressed down on her heavily bleeding elbow, and then followed.
"Can't you slow down any, Rabbit?" she groaned, and clutched at the stitch that was prominently throbbing in her side. He turned his head briefly in negation and darted between two blades of grass. She followed, and the second she was in the open a rose broke out of the soil and started shooting thorns at her. She yelped and backed up behind the grass. It was cheap protection, however; a thorn nearly tore through. "What the hell?" she muttered and peeked out, knife in tow. When she saw that the rose was stuck solidly in the ground, she felt braver and stepped out, throwing the knife as thorns whistled past her.
It sliced through a thorn that was coming at her and continued on unhindered until it struck the base of the flower, and it stopped shooting. She didn't trust it, and threw her knife again for good measure once it reappeared. The rose sagged, and fell to the ground, leaving an acidic pool of sap behind. She jumped over it but landed just short, as per usual. When the acid started eating into her boots she threw herself forwards, landing on her stomach.
Struggling up to a sitting position on her knees, Mara looked over her shoulder, checking the damage. "Erm..." she muttered in surprise, noting that the left heel was almost halfway burned off in the back. She stood shakily, checking to see how badly it impaired her motion. She paused at the imbalance and tore them off, checking them from the side. One heel was about a quarter-inch lower and she ruefully dunked the higher one in, already missing that height.
A strange noise from nearby startled her and she stood, abandoning the boots for a moment. An ant was silhouetted through a blade of grass, its musket trained on her. Mara didn't stop to think as she drew out her knife and threw it. But almost immediately after she felt the ball go deep into her, somewhere between her chest and her left shoulder. She gasped as she felt the bullet stop at her shoulder blade, embedding itself inside the muscle. She leaned forward and sat, not caring that the ant had survived, though its condition was comparably worse than hers.
Rabbit hopped back, searching for Faith again, and heard the sound of musket fire. Ordinarily, that would be the last thing he would be running to, but he knew that the only one that they would be firing at was her. "HOLD ON FAITH!!!" he yelled, and set himself at full speed to the sound.
He stopped dead when he found them. The ant was completely crumpled, trying to breathe through the blood that gushed out of his throat. Rabbit stared, horrified at the sight, though gratified that it was an ant soldier and not Faith. Then he turned to her and recoiled from the wound in her shoulder. "Faith!"
"No, I'm all right," she rasped.
"Liar! What happened?" He hopped all around her, checking the wound, making sure it wasn't deadly, and only stopped when she batted him away with her good arm.
"It had better be will that determines where these things go," she threatened. "If it isn't, I'm toast."
He didn't want to agree, but he had to admit that it seemed that she was totally right in that count. "Listen, Faith. It's your will that determines where those weapons of yours go. We are very nearly to Caterpillar. Come, we must hurry!"
He saw her wipe some the sweat and dirt off of her face and out of her eyes and stand, clutching the knife in her other hand. For a moment he stared. "What is it?" she asked, sounding confused. He shook his head again, and nervously hopped around, almost dancing between her and the ant.
"Get your boots on," he said tersely. "We must get going." Without waiting for her to reply, he took them up, muttering about time-wasting, and waited impatiently as she pulled them up and tied them one-handed. If she hadn't been so awkward he would have screamed.
He was undeniably relieved when she finally managed to tie them, and bounded off the second she was standing. She followed close behind.