17

Alice surveys the outfit lying on her bed while Mirana prepares for her own appearance across the room. She can feel the weight of it just by looking at it. Thick, silver leather forms a full-body suit trimmed in white and stiff gloves tipped ivory. The shoulders are heavily padded and ridged, the pants patterned after a chainmail style fading into a soft shimmering gradient further down. Upon turning the top piece over, Alice finds that Tarrant has ironed on a large patch unlike anything she's ever seen before.

The patch features a black and white chessboard, a pile of broken red chess pieces sitting atop it. Sticking out is the king piece, but the top is snapped off and sits apart from the rest, stabbed into the board. Standing on top of the defeated red army are two white chess pieces — a knight and a queen, facing each other. On the knight, there is a clearly distinguished A and an unmistakable M on the queen. Above the entire scene, the words "Frabjous Day" are stitched in white, fancy scripted letters. Alice smiles. How fitting. Lewis Carroll describes Frabjous Day is a day of celebration, and in a way, Tarrant is already celebrating the victory he's hoping will arrive. The realization simultaneously fills her with joy and dread. She has to win this. She has to.

She pulls on the outfit, the leather weighing her down almost immediately, and it takes her a moment to adjust to the bulk of it on her shoulders. She picks out her sturdiest shoes — a pair of black sneakers — and pull them on over her socks. The gloves go on last, the caterpillar pin stuck safely on the inside of the jacket. There is no helmet to be seen. Perhaps Mirana might know.

She walks with noticeable thumps in her step so as not to startle Mirana, placing her hands on either side of the backrest of the chair. She forgets her question when their eyes meet in the mirror set up on her desk.

Mirana's hair seems brighter than usual, closer to white rather than platinum blonde. It falls about her shoulders, cascading in gentle waves, a section of it braided in a crown around her head and a few tresses braided throughout. A white lace choker dotted with pearls adorns her neck. She wears her signature black cherry lipstick and subtle dusty rose shadow. The dress she wears is the same one from the day they first met, the short snowy one that billows out at the skirt. Without the cardigan, Alice can see the sleeves end halfway down her shoulders and are trimmed with pearls at the seams. Her feet are bare, a pair of white flats beside them beneath the desk. Alice's eyes wander back up to Mirana's, and the White Queen graces her with a breathtaking smile, reaching back and interlacing their fingers together, soft and warm.

"You're beautiful." Alice breathes out before she can help herself.

Mirana laughs softly, a quiet little burble of sound. "Thank you. So are you, my knight in shining armour."

Alice smiles. "My perfect Queen."

"Perfect?" Mirana chuckles. "I wouldn't say that."

"I would." She leans down and rests her chin on Mirana's head. "We make a strange pair, don't we?"

"In all the best ways." She glances at the clock. 11:50. "I have to appear soon."

Alice's eyes follow hers. "And then I follow?"

"And then you follow."

Mirana pushes back in her chair and stands, never once letting go of Alice's hand. She pushes the chair in as an afterthought, going around it to stand in front of Alice. Having her so close, the smell of vanilla turns Alice's brain to mush. After everything, Mirana still manages to overwhelm and excite her. Those warm, dark brown eyes draw her in, and she's leaning in close, tilting her head up until her forehead touches hers, eyelids fluttering shut. She could stay here forever. She feels Mirana cock her head to one side, her hands moving to her waist, as she leans in the rest of the way. She feels a single, minty breath against her lips before Mirana covers them with her own soft petals. Her arms drift up to wrap around her neck, pulling her closer, bodies flush against each other. It's warm and sweet and soft and gentle, yet at the same time it conveys something deeper in its tenderness. Alice doesn't dare give it a name, because for once she doesn't want to overthink this.

And then it's over far too soon. Mirana reluctantly pulls away first, drawing a discontented groan from Alice. Mirana laughs at her annoyance, pressing their foreheads together. "You're going to make me late."

"You started it." Alice mumbles.

She giggles, giving her a quick peck on the lips, before letting go of her entirely. "I'll see you out there." she says with a resigned smile. "Tarrant will be here to escort you soon."

And just like that, she's gone, a flurry of snow and dizzying enchantment out the door.

Alice has a good look at herself in the mirror and smiles. She hopes Mirana brought a spare tube of lipstick with her. She licks the stuff off her lips, tasting Mirana a second time. It leaves her wanting more.

There's a knock at her door a few minutes later. Alice opens it without thinking, and the door is viciously shoved open the rest of the way. Stayne slams the door behind him, leaning against it to catch his breath. He wears a black leather vest with a red heart patch stitched onto the chest, and underneath that, a black and red striped cotton shirt, both buttons undone. His pants are maroon, shredded as usual, and his fingerless gloves are a faded shade the same colour. His combat boots are laced through with red laces. Despite being decked out in full support of Iracebeth, his first words surprise her as he falls to his knees at her feet.

"I can't live this lie anymore, Kingsleigh!"

Alice steps back, revolted. "What are you playing at?"

"I have been living a lie. From the day I first saw you, I knew that I could not be completely faithful to Iracebeth any longer. You made me see how blind I've been." He reaches out to hug her legs, but Alice lets him fall to the floor. No way in Hell is he touching her. He looks up at her desperately. "I'm in —"

"Shut up!" Alice yells, effectively cutting him off. She glares at his pathetic little form, on his hands and knees. "Don't even finish that thought, because I know it isn't true."

"But it is —!"

"No!" Alice steels herself with a calming breath. "Get out, Stayne. Whatever you have to say, I'm not interested."

"We could run away together!"

Alice hauls him off the floor with a sudden burst of strength, fueled by pure hatred. She flings open the door and throws him out. "I said no." she growls. "I'm already bound to someone else."

Stayne starts snickering. "It's Mirana, isn't it? The ice cold White Queen. You're making a mistake with her, Kingsleigh." He rises. "Join me. We're both powerful. We could easily overthrow them both."

CR-ACK!

Alice's fist collides with Stayne's ribs, snapping two. Stayne stumbles back, aghast, hissing in pain. "Leave." she snarls. "Go crawl back to Iracebeth, and you'd better hope I don't say anything about this to her."

Stayne spits it her, angry defeat in his eyes, before turning away. Alice slams the door shut as soon as he's gone. She buries her face in her hands. Loyalties have always been fickle in the Red Queen's gang, save for the obvious exception, the Jabberwocky, but Stayne is the last person she'd expect to do something like this. He must be a power magnet, one who only stays on the side with the most power, regardless of previous loyalties. The thought makes Alice smile a little, despite everything. If Stayne is desperate enough to pull that kind of move, then Iracebeth must really believe that she's a threat to her reign of terror. That means she really does stand a chance!

Another knock at her door. She checks the spyhole this time, not wanting a repeat performance from Stayne or anyone else, and is relieved to see Tarrant waiting there instead, and opens the door for him.

Tarrant is wearing a spectacular ensemble of colour splashed everywhere. He wears a faded denim jacket similar to the one Alice herself has, except this one is patched at the elbows as well as the cuffs with white and there's a silver arrow pinned to the chest pocket. He wears a bright blue turtleneck mottled with splashes of light green, and around his neck there is a pink, white, black, and grey spotted scarf tied in the shape of a bow. He's got on bright orange striped corduroys that somehow complement his sweater and a pair of big brown shoes tipped black. His signature hat is perched jauntily on his head, a fresh salmon ribbon tied around it. Under his arm he carries a white motorcycle helmet, a creme knight chess piece in the center, clear as day.

"Ready?" he asks with a nervous smile.

"As ready as I'll ever be." She accepts the helmet from him graciously, fitting it to her head. It's a bit snug, the padding pushing down on both sides of her head, but it will definitely protect her from any tricks James may have up his sleeve.

Tarrant embraces her one last time before they leave her dorm room. This is it.

The gathering in front of the Founder's statue is massive. A sea of red and black nearly swallows the small gathering of white, but they stand proud and strong nonetheless. Mally wears a simple white dress tied off with a thin black belt. Bayard and Thackery both wear matching black and white flannels paired with black pants. Tommy and Timmy wear plain white tee shirts and blue overalls. They smile at Alice and wave enthusiastically. Mason is nowhere in sight, but someone else has reappeared — Nivens.

An overwhelming wave of guilt washes over Alice. Nivens appears to have recovered, but the dark circles carved beneath his eyes and the redness at his waterlines reveals so much more pain that his clean cut appearance lets on. His hair is styled impeccably into his usual side part; not a strand out of place. He wears a white short sleeved button up, charcoal slacks, a brown belt, and a pair of well worn Oxfords. His pocketwatch pokes out of his tweed vest pocket, shining in the afternoon sun.

Alice rushes over to him, leaving Tarrant behind.

"Nivens, I am so sorry, I —"

"Don't, Alice." Nivens halts her. "Mirana already explained everything. It's alright."

His voice sounds older now, more stern. Alice gapes. "Your stutter!"

He smiles wanly. "Yes, I finally, finally conquered it. We can talk later, if you'd like, but hopefully you'll conquer that bitch Iracebeth in the same way."

"Nivens." Mirana says firmly, brushing past him. "Please, don't say that." She turns to Alice. "But yes, we're all counting on you to win."

Alice laughs dryly. "No pressure." She glances behind her. "Where's Mason?"

"Talking with Professor Flora." Mirana explains. "They're getting to know each other, and it's going really well. I think he's found a new home." She thinks for a moment. "I'm glad he's with her; I didn't want him to see this."

A poke at the back of her leg nearly makes Alice jump a foot in the air. She whips around to find Chess in a fluffy blue and white sweater and jeans, and, to her surprise, sporting a hat of his own — an aegean blue bowler hat patterned with hand sewn silver stars and tied round the middle with a black satin ribbon. He grins up at her and hugs her tight around her legs before running off to join Thackery and Mally, his way of saying "good luck".

Alice can't help but grin. "You finally made him a hat." she says to Tarrant.

Tarrant shrugs. "I thought it was the proper time."

Someone pushes past her. Baxton. Despite his disgust with uniformity before, he's wearing a white v-neck t-shirt and jeans, his hair somewhat tidy but streaked through with grease from a clear attempt to style it.

"Sorry I'm late." he grunts, taking his place on Alice's other side while Mirana remains at her right.

A shrieking guitar cuts through the noise of the crowd before Alice can give him any snarky response of a sort, and everyone's attention is drawn to the source several yards back from the statue.

The procession looks like a bloody coronation. Two other students dressed in red and black carry Iracebeth on their shoulders. She has black lace woven through her bright red hair, and her dress is a dark maroon trimmed with more black lace down the sides, fanning out to a scarlet skirt patterned with ebony hearts that's short in the front, long in the back. Her stilettos dig into the bodies of her carriers, but if they have any discomfort it's cleverly concealed. Stayne leads them, carrying a massive wireless speaker, and the Jabberwocky follows behind with a long, lean stride. He's similarly dressed to Alice but in all black with much lighter material, and rather than a motorcycle helmet he has a gas mask, the lenses stained purple to match the streaks in his hair. He carries two heavy looking lime green spray cans labeled with the standard white skull and crossbones, and over his shoulder a red canvas bag with a black knight painted on the side.

The music fades down to a somewhat quiet murmur when they reach the center of the crowd. The Jabberwocky rushes to the front as the two students carrying Iracebeth crouch down for her to step onto his back, Stayne offering his hand to help her the rest of the way down.

The two sisters meet each other on opposite ends of the statue. Red and white, stark contrasts on the extremities of their respective sides. Neither sister betrays her true feelings, blank canvases conceal expressions of fear, of hatred, of sorrow, of regret. Nivens steps forward, a noticeable strength in his gait, and stands between them.

He clears his throat and produces a small, rolled up piece of paper from his trouser pocket, and reads, "On this Frabjous Day, queens, Red and White, shall send forth their Champions to do battle on their behalf."

" 'Racie," Mirana says suddenly. "We don't have to fight. Please, we can end this now, no one has to get hurt on either of our —"

Iracebeth cuts her off. "I know what you're doing." she says, glaring at her little sister. "You think you can blink those pretty little eyes, and I'll melt, just like Mummy and Daddy did."

"Please." Mirana pleads earnestly.

It's a last ditch effort, an effort doomed to fail. Iracebeth colours a brilliant shade of scarlet. "No!" she bellows. "I own this school! I am the eldest!" She thrusts a heavily manicured, pointed finger forward, past Mirana and at Alice. "Jabberwocky!"

The Jabberwocky rises from his bowed position on the ground, straightening up. The sisters exchange one last look, Mirana, heavy with sadness, Iracebeth, fiery with rage, before they move aside to their respective armies, Nivens following Mirana. The two sides form a ring around the opposing Champions, tight enough to bar any thoughts of flight, but large enough so the toxins cannot affect them directly. Alice takes a deep breath and matches the Jabberwocky's pace until they stand only a few feet apart in the exact positions their queens had stood seconds before.

"Ready to die, Kingsleigh?" His malicious smile is evident in his voice, as he flicks the caps off of the cans. "I'm going to enjoy this immensely."

"Enjoy what? Losing?" Alice snaps back. "Why don't you go back to that glorified rosebush? Maybe she'll even let you lick the dirt off her heels!"

The Jabberwocky growls and lunges at her, spraying both cans at once. Alice narrowly dodges him, rolling to the other side and landing on her feet into a crouch. She can feel the heat through her layers, and something tells her that he's already torn past the initial barrier. Must be some sort of acid.

She doesn't have much time to think about it, because the Jabberwocky is rushing at her again, ripping off the very top of one of the cans. Just as he's about to fling the contents at her, Alice shoves his arm backwards, drenching his jacket in the stuff. It burns right through the material, massive holes spreading in the fabric revealing skin rapidly turning red. The Jabberwocky howls, tossing the can aside, and lands a kick to Alice's stomach, knocking the wind out of her, her body colliding with the pavement with a heavy smack! Breathing hard, she doesn't have time to react when he slams his foot into her ribs, shoving the bones towards her back and pulling a strangled hiss from her lips as sharp pains spread from the area. He leans down and grabs both sides of her helmet, ready to rip it off, when something hits him with a loud thump!

He whips around, giving Alice time to get up and away. She follows his eyes to see Tarrant pretending to be very much interested in adjusting his hat, then sees a clear case full of various threads at the Jabberwocky's feet. Maybe it's the tension in the air and the possibility that she might die, but Alice bursts out laughing despite herself. The laughter hurts her upper body even more, but she just doesn't care.

Iracebeth isn't so amused. "The Hatter is interfering!" she shrieks. "Off with his head!"

Her shrill voice shatters the moment, and both sides surge together, one defending, the other attacking, yet still maintaining a sort of circle around the main fight. Alice takes advantage of the Jabberwocky's temporary distraction and throws a punch into his back, leather colliding with skin. He yells, falling forward, barely managing to break his fall palms first. He whips around and sprays wildly. Alice's lungs begin to burn, throat tightening, and she stumbles back, breathing hard as she tries to focus on the clean air inside her helmet, which is rapidly becoming a furnace, her hair sticking to her face with the accumulating sweat. She swings blindly, managing to knock the can from the Jabberwocky's hand as he regains his balance. He wastes no time retrieving the fallen weapon and instead leaps at her, taking them both to the ground. His knees squeeze her sides and his bag smacks her helmet, knocking her head and sending a pain through her eye. His spindly fingers wrap around her neck tightly, thumbs pressing down, nails digging in. Alice gasps, trying to force air into her lungs but finding the pipe blocking. She's going to throw up. Her lungs are cracking, tears streaming down her face. She swings and rams her knuckles into his neck, colliding with his Adam's apple. He releases her instantly, shocked, and Alice uses it to her advantage once more and slams her fist into his crotch.

He screams and rolls off of her, clutching himself. Alice leaps onto her feet, taking a minute to gulp in precious air. It's barely returning to normal as the Jabberwocky digs into his bag. She's got to get his mask off. He's invincible as long as it's on, much like herself. She pulls her helmet down tighter, taking several quick breaths just in time for her enemy to pull out what appear to be red heart shaped grenades.

Rapid fire they go, one, two, three! Exploding in bursts of white powder, it burns at her shoulders and her legs, seeping through her armour. Alice is practically twirling about trying not to get hit directly, panting at the exertion. One, two, three! Duck, slide, jump! She lands on her feet hard, plunging imaginary knives into her toes. She hisses at the jarring impact.

"Training for the ballet, Kingsleigh?" the Jabberwocky leers, catching his breath.

"At least I've got the spine for it." Alice fires back.

"What?" The Jabberwocky cocks his head.

"Uhhm, well — never mind!" Alice shakes off more powder, biting back a groan when some runs inside the back of the jacket. "What is in those things?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" he says, a smirk in his voice. He begins to circle her, and Alice has no choice but to join him, unwilling to turn her back on him for even a second. "I'm so much cleverer than you, Kingsleigh. How could Mirana ever choose someone so stupid?"

Alice growls and hunches down, rushing at him, arms around his legs and knocking him to the ground. She knows she's just been baited, but she doesn't care. She hooks her fingers around one side of his mask just as he grabs both sides of her helmet.

RIP!

CLUNK!

The barriers are torn away, Alice's helmet rolling far out of her reach and the Jabberwocky's mask flying in the opposite direction. The fresh air is a blessing for them both, being trapped in their respective containments for so long. The two Champions are finally able to look into each other's eyes, burning with intense hatred for the other. They spring back from each other, circling once more but this time much more cautious. They try faking each other out, Alice pretending to lunge but leaping back at the last minute, the Jabberwocky nearly withdrawing his hand from the bag but never lifting in from the canvas container.

"I'd surrender, if I were you." the Jabberwocky says, a crooked smile revealing pointed teeth.

"Never." Alice snarls.

"Not even for this?"

The Jabberwocky pulls out a pistol, a Glock 23.

And suddenly the chaos of the surrounding clashes becomes a dull roar.

Alice's heart nearly stops at the sight of the gun. Surely it's not really loaded? He's mad, the Jabberwocky is absolutely mad!

The Jabberwocky cackles maniacally at her horrified expression. "Oh, this was so worth it. All this buildup just to see your face! I truly did not think I'd have to use this, but you're much stronger than I thought. Do you like it?" He runs a hand fondly over the barrel. "It's been so long since I've been able to put my Vorpal bullets to proper use. One perfect shot," He points the gun straight at Alice's heart. "And you die instantly."

"You've lost your head." Alice breathes, eyes locked on the finger that hovers dangerously over the trigger.

"No, you're going to lose yours. Unless, of course," He grins malevolently. "You surrender, and pledge fealty to the one, true Queen."

Alice calculates at a harried pace. If she throws herself to the ground, she'll buy herself some time after the Jabberwocky fires to get the gun away from him. She's got to be fast, no time to second guess.

So she locks eyes with her fearsome foe, and, throwing caution headfirst into the wind, spits at him.

Everything happens so fast.

The Vorpal bullet sings as it flies from the barrel. Alice drops to the pavement, hearing the deadly weapon whistle past her ear, nearly grazing her shoulder. The air isn't so toxic now, slowly having grown accustomed to it, and she swings her leg up, kicking him right in the crotch. He shrieks, and Alice manages to rip the gun from his hand. She shoves him into a kneeling position, shoving the barrel against the side of his head. He freezes, locking his jaw, and it is only then that Alice sees that everyone else has stopped, awaiting her next move.

The students are all bloody and bruised, save for the Queens. They look at her expectantly, earnestly, and Alice realizes that they all just want this to end, that they don't care which side wins anymore, not truly, they just want it all to be over.

"What are you waiting for!" the Jabberwocky yells. "Do it! Kill me!"

Alice wants to. She oh so desperately wants to, for all the hell he's put her and this school through. She wants to make him feel all the pain he's caused and more. She seethes silently, her finger hovering over the trigger just as his had done.

Then, of all the eyes in the crowd, she finds Mirana's.

The White Queen looks positively terrified of what her Champion may do. Her dark eyes are wide, hands over her heart. Alice's own heart suddenly feels heavier than any burden she's ever carried. She can't. She'd be no better than the monarch they're both trying so desperately to overthrow.

And so, Alice Kingsleigh steps away from the Jabberwocky, lowering the gun. "No." she says firmly. "I'm not like you." She glares at him. "It's over, James." she spits his real name, at last tearing down the final piece of his armour.

The Jabberwocky's jaw drops as cheers erupt from the crowd, both sides elated. Wearers of both red and white embrace each other, shedding tears of joy. Alice catches Mirana's eye once more and they smile, broad and radiant. It's taking everything within her power not to dash over and take her into her arms.

"STOP!"

Iracebeth sprints as best she can in such high shoes, pulling her wounded Champion to her side. "You hurt my Jabber-baby-wocky!" She looks to those wearing red and black. "Off with her head!"

Tarrant chuckles, stepping out from the crowd. "They don't answer to you anymore, Bloody Big Head."

He grins and does a strange sort of jig, a dance that mocks yet brings joy to all that watch, turning his head this way and that, rolling his wrists, and swiveling his feet in ways that should be impossible. His eyes are wild, light, and happy, happier than Alice has ever seen them in a long time. He finishes with a turn and a tip of his hat to Mirana.

A roar of laughter sounds. Stayne makes to charge at Tarrant, but the two students that had been carrying Iracebeth before, now no longer afraid, grab him and restrain him. Iracebeth lets out a strangled sob before making a fast retreat with her slave at her side, padding after her like a dog. The crowd cheers once more. Mirana makes her way to the center, and Nivens presents her with a small silver tiara with white stones, snapping the gold tiara embedded with rubies. The White Queen is positively radiant, smiling happily upon a new day, a new reign.

Alice sways on the spot, only now feeling the weight of the battle and the pain that comes with it, only for Tarrant to catch her. He holds her to his side, pulling her away from the crowd, away from Mirana.

Alice drags her feet, a weak sort of resistance. "No, I need to stay." she mumbles.

Tarrant laughs. "Your work here is done, Alice. Now, you need a bath and some rest."

"Mmmph." she grumbles. She wants to be with Mirana right now more than anything, but he's probably right. "What was that dance?"

"That? That, my friend, was my Futterwacken."