Oh my god. Guys. Seriously. So much positive feedback, I can't believe it. In reply to ready to fly's review: haha, I have lines separating in Microsoft word, but in ff they disappear. Sorry 'bout that. And if you want to feel this story, listen to dance of the knights by Prokofiev.
Dawn stands at the gates, mouth set and eyes steely. "Okay," she reassures herself. "I can do this."
A guard with chartreuse hair opens the gates, but not before whispering in her ear, "If you have trouble with May, call me. My name is Drew, and I'll help her."
Dawn is about to reply, and turns to face him, only to notice that he is gone. She clutches her basket warily, and trudges further into the red palace.
She enters a ballroom. Gentle, floating music wafts around, and tables stacked with platters of wonderland's delicacies line the outskirts of the room. Guests sway to the desperate violins, elaborate gowns swishing and ornate hair signifying high status. Dawn, earlier that day, decided to wear her shorts and white shirt – making is easy to recognize her. She does not regret that decision as she sees the high–society people murmur, and whispers run through the crowd.
A woman sits on a throne in the back of the room, stacked upon red–carpeted stairs. Her skin is porcelain white, and her lips, in stark contrast, are blood–red. Her hair is twisted into an intricate plait atop her head, and a crown of rubies rests upon her brown tresses, shining glamorously. She smiles mysteriously, and says, "Welcome, White Rabbit. You have accepted my invitation to participate in the contest, I presume?"
Dawn bows respectfully. "Yes, My Queen."
Ripples of excitement run through the crowd. The famous White Rabbit, participating in the Queen's contest at last. Rumors of a girl – a rabbit creature – circulated wonderland for ages, and now she's finally here, challenging the Queen.
"Wonderful," May smiles again. "Now, let's resume the party, shall we?"
The guests begin to dance again, twirling to a twisted waltz, steps light.
A wailing crescendo fills the air, and Dawn is reminded that she does indeed have to dance. She slips into the jostling crowd, and searches for a suitable partner.
She looks, and sees a man leaning on a wall by his lonesome. Curious, she slides next to him, and asks, "Why are you alone?"
He turns to her, and she sucks in a breath. He has purple hair – not strange for wonderland, but it seems to not be dyed, which was quite rare around these parts – but that's not what captivates her. It's his eyes – not the typical bright wonderland colors, blue, green, orange, brown, but a captivating shade of onyx grey, swirling with touches of lilac.
"Why?" he replies, voice gravelly and deep. "Because I'm always alone. Don't talk to me, troublesome girl."
Dawn almost doesn't take offense – almost – but then she remembers that, as familiar as this man seems, she doesn't know him well enough to let him talk to her like that.
"Hey!" she scolds, brows furrowing. "You can't talk to me like that. Who are you, anyway?"
He raises an eyebrow, before replying, "Paul. Paul Shinji."
Dawn is surprised. She's never heard of Paul Shinji before, and everyone invited to the Queen's balls are personal guests or aristocrats. And she knows all of the aristocrats.
"You wouldn't have heard of me," he says, as if reading her mind. "You're easily read."
Dawn scowls, but looks back to the dance floor, and suggests, "Wanna dance, Paul?"
He seems surprised at that. "Who? You? With me?"
Dawn rolls her eyes. "Yeah. Who else? Me and my invisible friend?"
Paul quips easily, "This is wonderland, Dawn."
Dawn starts to reply before a thought overtakes her original track of mind. "Hey, you know my name? How?"
Paul shoots her something akin to a smile – something that's not quite happy, but not upset either. "I know everything, troublesome. And, if you insist, I'll dance."
Dawn isn't sure whether to beam or punch him, so she does neither and drags him onto the floor. She places her arms on his shoulders, and they sway gently.
Paul says nothing.
Misty wakes up in a field. She knows she's alive because of the aching sensation coursing through her veins. She feels slightly disappointed.
She rises, and sees that she's wearing a blue dress with a lacy white trim, and a cream apron.
Her hair is tied up in a spiky ponytail – just how she likes it.
She walks until the field gives way to a gravelly path, and she peers around the bends until she sees an enclosure. She runs to the fenced off area, and when she reaches it, she pulls open the gate and pushes her way inside. A long table lined with sweets and teacups occupies the center. A black–haired boy wearing a top-hat occupies the seat at the head of the table.
"Hey!" she yells. "Where am I? Did you take me here?"
The boy looks up, and she sees his eyes – gold, molten chocolate. Then they flash, turning red. He breathes – once, twice, three times – before standing up and sweeping everything off the table. "Get out!" he screeches. "You're not supposed to be here! The Queen forbids outsiders!"
Misty feels her head swim as she looks at those bloody eyes, and she faints, crumpling in a heap.