Disclaimer: I own neither American McGee's Alice (EA) or Doctor Who (BBC)
Sorry this took so long – I vastly overestimated my ability to overcome writer's block while also worrying about college papers.
Also, there are some characters based off of real-life counterparts who had different names and professions in the game (Clergyman Henry Liddell became Professor Arthur Liddell, for example), so I'm using that for artistic liberties.
Chapter 2: The Static Teapot.
She leaned forward for emphasis, then asked: "Has Mr. Russell recently been in contact with a woman known as Alice?"
The policeman drew back in confusion. "Alice...why that name in particular?"
"Because it is the difference between this being an isolated incident, and a symptom of a great calamity."
"I...I don't follow."
"That's because you haven't worked with me on my last few cases. But even if you did I cannot guarantee you would notice the pattern."
The veiled detective clapped her hands together once, drawing the attention of her maid. "Jenny," she instructed, "Would you kindly gather the notes from those cases?"
"Of course, Madame."
And with that, Jenny exited the room. She returned less than a minute later, with scraps of paper. As she laid them on the low table, the policeman looked at them...or at least tried to, but could only tilt his head in confusion at the unintelligible scrawls.
"I don't write in English unless it's for communication." explained Vastra as she gathered the notes into her hands. "Allow me to translate:'
'Last year the social reformist Andrew Rucastle was killed in a confrontation with the police, provoked by an argument over the treatment of a criminal. The day before, he had dismissed his secretary Alice because of chronic absence.'
'A few months after that, a scandal involved the manager of the Royal Opera House, Trenton Haymitch. His backstage assistant Alice complained about working conditions and resigned, and the very next day he was found destroying costumes and instruments. The poor wretch was dragged to the asylum screaming.'
'Again, a month later, Alice turns up as the maid of Lord Oldsworth, but quickly resigns due to unwanted advances. A week later his wife turns up poisoned, by his own hand, and he was tried by the House of Lords and hanged.'
'Now I'm sure you can agree that a pattern has emerged, and there is some form of connection. Once is happenstance, twice is coincidence, but thrice..."
As she spoke, Madame Vastra suddenly stood up.
"...is evidence!"
The policeman caught a glimpse of her true face as her veil fluttered from the sudden movement. His breath halted for a minute, but he quickly dismissed that feeling and went back to business. "Erm," he asked hesitantly, "so what should we do?"
"For now, there's not much we can do. I don't want to harass every woman in London with the name Alice, that would be a waste of time and effort. I do, however, want to know who might know Mr. Russell's business. That might tell us if Alice is involved."
"Er, his servant is in the station, and his wife is recovering in hospital. Ask, and I'll take you to them."
"Thank you. And while you arrange that...I suppose I can busy myself with tracking the wayward Mr. Russell. I'll visit the crime scene presently."
The policeman thanked her and left, looking all too pleased to be freed from her presence. Vastra folded her notes and placed them within a pocket, and lifted her veil.
"The game is afoot, my dear. Get your walking shoes on."
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The morning began like any other. Alice woke to the sound of voices outside her window – she liked to keep it open on some late summer nights. The crisp night air coming up against her warm bedsheets reminded her of being embraced by her Wonderland friends, and helped her sleep. It is a peculiar habit, and one that could not be sustained by living anywhere lower than the seventh floor of a tall building, which fortunately she did (even then, she had to disguise her open window with a thin painted sheet to discourage the wandering burglar) but now that the Red Queen wasn't as much of a threat it was easier for her to live with her quirks rather than fight them.
She got up, dressed, ate some toast with cheese and a handful of dried fruit, and drank a small cup of tea, much like she did every other morning. She was tempted to dip into one of the jars of preserves she had on her shelf, but the urgency of the day enabled her to resist. Instead, she put on her bonnet and boots, grabbed her purse and shawl, and walked outside.
Her destination that day, since she had no more employment, was to the nearby office where they printed The Wool Rag. As usual it was tough to navigate through the throngs of people walking to and fro, but she made it eventually.
For the most part the office looked the same as it usually did, save a new person at the front trying to sell a newspaper. Her target.
"Pardon me," she said as she approached him, "is it twopence as usual?"
"Sure is, ma'am."
She counted out two pennies, and received a small bundle of paper. She turned through the pages, ignoring all the things that didn't matter to her, like the latest acts of parliament or the latest sensational crime, or even all the advertisements for all the things she couldn't afford. After a few seconds of this, however, she found what she was looking for: the Situations Vacant page.
"Let us see what we have..." she muttered under her breath. She scanned the page, looking for whatever positions she might qualify for. It was a chore, and required concentration...
...concentration which was suddenly broken when a commotion broke out from inside the nearby office. Shouting and banging reverberated from within the building, and everyone outside took notice. Alice's breath accelerated as her flight instincts began to kick in. After all, that sudden noise probably meant that there was some form of violence or hallucination on the other side of the door.
Her suspicions were partially confirmed when the door opened and a thin plume of smoke came out. This was quickly followed by a large bronze teapot being thrown out onto the street, followed by a strange device consisting of two circular plates at perpendicular angles to each other, one black and one gold with a crank in the middle. Finally a man with light hair and a thin moustache left the building, in a peach colored suit spattered with water.
"I expect you to pay for all the damages!" came a voice from inside the office.
The man paid no heed, and instead picked up the teapot and circular device, cradling them as if they were delicate china. Only then did he realize he was being spoken to. "Wait, what did you say? Oh, never mind, I need to go and fix these back up. Figure out what went wrong."
"And when you do, please take it somewhere else!" With that, the door slammed shut.
Realization finally caught up with the man, and his eyes widened. "Oh, my sincerest apologies! Send the bill in the post!" He waited for a response for almost a minute, before gathering his things and walking away.
Under normal circumstances, Alice would have just turned back to her newspaper, but she had what Dr. Wilson called a 'hero complex', one that has gotten her in trouble multiple times. Most recently, in fact, was the instance that got her dismissed from Mr. Russell's employ. But bad things happened when she ignored the plights of others, like Bumby's children, which made it even harder to ignore someone in trouble. So, she folded her newspaper and walked up to the young man.
"Is everything all right?" she asked, not knowing whether or not she'd regret it.
"It depends on what you mean by all right. It's only a stain, and nothing's broken that cannot be fixed...but my chances at selling my wonderful electricity-powered teapot have just taken a mighty blow."
At the word 'electricity,' memories of Rutledge resurfaced for Alice. "What?" she asked nervously.
"That's what this wheel's for." said the man, pointing to the second part of his arrangement. "You turn it to produce static electricity, and it in turn produces heat. It's incredibly portable and anyone can do it! Surely it's amazing!"
But Alice wasn't amazed – she was more worried about the discoloration of the street, as it seemed to turn green. Furthermore, she could swear that she saw some furry appendage sticking out of the teapot's lid... It took her a while to process what he said, and she responded as best she could: "I don't know..."
"You don't know? Where did I go wrong then, if you cannot see the future as it unfolds?"
"I'm just worried about the poor Dormouse," she blurted out. And as soon as she realized she did, she gasped in shock.
"Dormouse? I don't follow..." he said, and Alice's worst fears were confirmed. She had just shared with a total stranger that she was hallucinating. All of the progress she had made through all those years, with the help of Dodgson and the Doctor, was all about to go to waste. She stepped backwards, and prepared to escape...
...when he suddenly said: "Wait a second...dormouse...is that from Lewis Carroll's book?"
Instantly Alice calmed down. Lewis Carroll was Dodgson's pen name, the one he used to publish the stories he wrote...based on her hallucinations! After he became her benefactor, he published two books titled Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, and Through the Looking Glass (and what Alice found there), which were wild successes. He even gave her a portion of his profits to help buy her flat, and another for her to save for a rainy day.
She had nothing to fear, she realized; he simply thought she was making a joke based on the book. For all she knew, he had no idea she was in fact Lewis Carroll's muse, let alone hallucinating at that very moment.
Of course, all the stress that built up over that moment had to go somewhere. So, in spite of herself, she laughed a nervous laugh. It started off restrained, and she had practice restraining herself. But when the stranger decided to join in the laughter, it turned into a raucous, hearty laugh, the likes of which she hadn't experienced since her childhood.
"HA Ha hahahahaha! Oh dear, I was worried for a second there...I thought you wouldn't get the reference."
"No, I understand, the dormouse in the teapot...and you needn't worry about it, that's why this component has two wheels! This one is the static electricity generator, and the other is the electrically-powered heating element that boils the water within the teapot. It's properly shielded so the user won't get shocked. I was at the newspaper today so as to try and get someone to advertise it. The artist turned disagreeable when it malfunctioned during its demonstration, and sprayed hot water all over...but I worry he was prejudiced against it before even that!"
"I can understand why. Not that long ago something like that would have been called witchcraft!"
"But picture it: Even something as simple as a teapot, freed from the reliance on a gas stove; if this is possible, imagine what else might follow? At least I think it's genius!"
"From what I've observed, genius isn't really called genius unless it has social graces to back it up. Then it's called madness."
"Oh you don't think the man who invented the steam engine was mad, do you? Or the sewer systems that cleaned up our streets? Or the man who designed the Crystal Palace?"
"I don't know. I've never met them – for all I know, they are very mad, and their fame is the only reason people tolerate them!"
"Well then I'd better get famous fast!"
They laughed again.
…...
…...
The conversation continued as they walked down the street together. Alice only realized that fact, that she was having an enjoyable conversation with a total stranger, when they finally reached his destination: A small tinsmith shop with the words Hargreaves' Metalwork and Other Oddities written on the window.
"Well, here we are," he said. "Assuming no customers, I should be able to get this teapot fixed up in no time."
Alice gave him a polite smile. "Well, I hope Mr. Hargreaves is more reasonable than that newspaper artist."
"I'm pretty sure a man would necessarily be more reasonable towards himself." He paused for Alice's benefit, and then continued: "Richard Hargreaves, at your service. And might I be so mad as to ask for your name?"
Alice was taken slightly off-guard by Richard's request, but not in an unpleasant way, especially given his pleasant conversation just minutes prior. So, she introduced herself: "Alice."
Richard smiled in surprise. "So you're an Alice. The Alice, perhaps? Or is it just coincidence?"
Finally, Richard's pleasant demeanor threatened to push a boundary she wasn't quite ready for yet: revealing her traumatic history. "I would prefer to keep that to myself for now, if that's not too much of a bother."
Richard visibly realized his innocent question had the wrong outcome. He swallowed in embarrassment, and apologized. "But," he added, "You can't fault me for being curious, can you?"
"...I suppose not. Anyway, I have places to go today, and I can't stay around for much longer."
"That is a pity. Will I see you again, or..."
"Will my smile fade from your life like the Cheshire Cat? Is that what you were going to say?" she asked, prompting another quick giggle from both of them. "I don't know. But I'll say hello if I walk by here again."
"Thank you, and I hope to see you again soon, Alice."
"Until then, Richard." With that, Alice extended her hand for a friendly handshake...but at the last minute, she withdrew it, unsure if the situation really called for it. Instead, she waved, and left after he waved back.
Minutes later, reflecting on the conversation, she found herself worried. From his first impression she assumed Richard was creative, humorous, intelligent, and considerate of her desires and worries. And a series of coincidences ensured her first impression wasn't as bad as she first worried. But, as experience has taught her, first impressions don't always convey the truth. In the final analysis, she wasn't sure she wanted Richard as a friend.
"If it's too good to be true, as they say...perhaps I'd best put this conversation out of my mind."
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Scanning through the 'Situations Vacant' section, Alice found some things that would interest her. There were multiple openings for governesses and nannies, a couple of them with 'urgent' written somewhere in the advertisement. No openings for anything involving social reformers, which would have prevented another instance of being fired the way she was with Mr. Russell. She also had serious reservations about many of the servant positions open, after Lord Oldsworth, but if the other options fell through she couldn't be too picky.
Halfway through thinking about which positions suited her best, however, Alice realized she was missing one thing: References. She had an old letter of recommendation from Dodgson, and a couple of references from older employers, but for her to be completely honest with any potential employer (she was, after all, liable for for fraud if she didn't) she needed to obtain a reference from Toby Russell.
A difficult prospect to say the least.
She strolled over to the neighborhood of his bookstore, all the while thinking about how to go about this task. Perhaps she could ask a passersby to petition Mr. Russell on her behalf? Then came the question of how to convince Russell to provide a positive reference. She looked back on her time working for him; aside from the instance with the missing books (for which she was positive her motives would elicit sympathy) she couldn't think of any time when she was anything other than a model employee. She even found her employer quite compassionate, despite his arrogance at catering to the upper classes, on every day save her sacking.
She went through multiple different speeches for the eventual conversation she hoped to have, whether she talked to Mr. Russell himself or a proxy. Would it work if she emphasized she knew she did something wrong? Her thoughts raced all the way to the bookstore.
Once she got to the bookstore, however, her thoughts were all catastrophically upended.
She saw a small crowd gather around a pile of ashen wood and scattered bricks where Russell's bookstore used to be. Blackening touched the neighboring buildings as well, and workers were busy clearing that up. Carriages struggled to move around piles of debris that littered the street.
"What happened here?" she asked.
"Haven't you heard? Mr. Russell burned down his own bookstore, after robbing his own wife! Then he vanished without a trace! Happened last night, it did!"
If Alice were any more like a normal person, her immediate thoughts would have been related to how she could possibly get a reference now, how she could make do without it, what sort of jobs would accept her, or other such inquiries.
Alice, however, was not a normal person by any means. She had traumatic experiences in the past...relating to abuse and fire. Despite her best efforts the ruined house quite suddenly started to resemble her own, whose image was so suddenly burned into her own consciousness. Despite herself, the memory image of Toby Russell turned into the image of Doctor Bumby, raping and smothering her dear Lizzie. And once those unwanted images arrived, others started to change as well. Her breathing quickened and her body quaked, and London disappeared into the nightmare-scape of Wonderland.
Suddenly two large figures clad in black armor appeared out of the corner of her eyes and grabbed her by both sides. Their grip was unbreakable, as Alice's brief struggles quickly discovered. She was lifted off her feet, and carried away at breathtaking speed. A rumbling voice slid out of one of them: "You need to come with us."
"No! Let me go!"
"Not until you're safe. The White Queen commands it."
At the mention of the White Queen, Alice took another look at her 'captors'. Their armor, she noticed, wasn't naturally black – it was white armor scarred by fire. Armor cast to look like the side of a stone castle wall, with the tip of a tower styled into the helmet.
"...You mean this really is a rescue?" she asked, to which one of the Rooks nodded in the affirmative.
From an outsider's perspective, it looked like this strange woman was skipping away backwards with her arms outstretched. Curious sight, to be sure, but one that was soon eclipsed by another strange sight:
The Veiled Detective, kneeling at the ruined building like a mourner...if mourners carried magnifying lenses.
"The conflagration's point of origin is obvious," she mumbled to herself, "as is where it spread and what pieces of debris fell first. But, I wonder..."
Faster than the human eye could follow, Vastra extended her long tongue out through the debris. After a few rounds of this she stopped, spit the taste of ashes out of her mouth, and moved some pieces aside to reveal some items that hadn't perished in the blaze.
Among them was a half-burned employment contract signed with the name of Alice...and what looked like an L, before the signature was cut off by burn marks. Same with the address – not even the number was visible.
Vastra smiled. "It's not much, but it supports my hypothesis. Amazing what humans will miss when they neglect simple patterns."
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The White Queen's court was always known for a simultaneous abundance of, and lack of, color. On one level, everything seemed determined to conform to a very strict code of decorum, that is to say, straight lines of black-and-white marble. But at the same time, the whole castle was like one big garden inside and out. The columns were made of trees, vines crept in and out of the walls, and flowers greeted everyone who walked in and out of a door.
Of course, most of these plants had some white or black features that allowed them to blend in with the regular patterns of the walls and floors. Some could even change colors. But most of the greens and browns and other colors appeared only if one were to look above or below eye level. Above is where the trees spread their canopy under a glass roof, greeting a beautiful blue sky. Below is where one found grasses, springing up through the gaps between the floor's squares.
Essentially, where the Queen of Hearts designed her castle around cards and body parts, the White Queen themed hers around chess and plants.
And to the varied denizens who wandered through its halls, it was much more preferable. And they were another reason the court was so colorful – unlike the knights, rooks, bishops and others, they were not required to wear all-white armor. They came looking as they pleased, acting as they pleased, with no objection unless it hurt another; yet another reason all of Wonderland preferred the White Queen to the Red.
Yet despite their love for her, they held an even greater love for Alice. So there was some concern when a pair of hulking Rooks came through the doors dragging Alice backwards.
"Is that Alice?" they asked each other, as well as "Did she do something wrong?", "How could she do wrong by herself?" and "How could she not do wrong by herself?"
The doors to the outside closed, and the Rooks released Alice, finally allowing her to turn around and stretch, her arms and legs sore from all the dragging. The Rooks didn't leave her side, though. The murmuring around her didn't stop, only changed to more general "what's going on?" sorts of questions...
...but once a little lamb entered the courtyard, all conversation ceased.
Alice regarded it with confusion, wondering what could be so important about such a common animal, until the Rooks bowed before it.
"Your Majesty," she said with a curtsy.
Sure enough, before her very eyes the lamb's wool knitted itself into an elegant gown, as the lamb itself stood up and tucked in its limbs...for them to reemerge as the humanoid limbs of the White Queen. Once the transformation was complete, the resulting woman greatly resembled Alice's departed mother, Lydia.
"It's wonderful to see you again, Alice. We hope your journey wasn't too unpleasant." she spoke, with stern voice and a royal 'we', some of the few behaviors that signified her royalty.
"It was, actually."
The Queen frowned. "We're sorry, Alice. But we and you can both agree that the place you were taken from was considerably more unpleasant, can we? The sight of another fire..."
Alice reluctantly nodded. "And right where I was hoping to get references for my next situation, as well."
"From Russel? Nonsense, he would never help us. His kind gives only malice to those who ask for pity! You should've left him alone!" shouted a random voice from the crowd. All attention turned towards its source, a ferret in a beggar's outfit.
The White Queen started fumbling with her wooly gown. "Now now, is that the way to treat our guest? By saying their ideas are wrong?"
She removed her hands from her gown, a handful of wool in each. She then pulled a branch off a nearby tree and used it as a spindle with which to turn that wool into a ball of yarn, a process that took all of four seconds. As soon as she was finished she pulled off another branch, and spent another four seconds knitting that yarn into a pair of tiny mittens. Her display finished, she returned the branches to their tree and handed the mittens to the rude ferret.
As she did so, she said: "Alice is a benefactor, with a kind heart and a righteous passion. But only because she was given a chance to be that way. What's wrong with offering that chance to others, regardless of whether or not they take it?"
"...Nothing at all, your Majesty!" said the ferret as he took the mittens, and put them on his nose and tail. It bounded off to the applause of the courtiers, and a self-congratulatory grin from the White Queen.
"You never know when to stop, do you?" asked Alice, to which the Queen responded with a giddy "Not at all!"
The Queen turned around, and said "Come, Alice. We have something you may wish to see."
Alice followed her inside the castle, reasoning that it might lead her to some new idea she hadn't considered before. The White Queen turned the corner, and said:
"Oh, and do watch your step."
Alice didn't.
….,,,,,,,,...
The instant she turned the corner, she stepped onto empty air, and fell face-first onto the floor of a small boat, suspended in the air by a large balloon shaped like a bishop's hat, with the White Queen seated at the prow. When Alice got up and looked about, she noticed another detail: they were not inside the castle she had just entered. They were outside, in the instant it had taken her to recover.
"What's all this about?" Alice asked as she seated herself next to the White Queen, who had busied herself with more knitting. And as the balloon-boat sailed under its own power through a chess-themed orchard with an upside down river flowing above, the White Queen answered:
"Alice, by all right this is your world. You create it, and it creates you. You have saved it, and yourself, from total oblivion so many times. Yet, you never come to this world as a ruler. As visitor, and occasionally saviour, but never ruler."
"That's what you're here for." said Alice, who grabbed a pair of knitting needles off the floor of the boat.
The White Queen gave a stern nod. "Every day we strive to be worthy of the burden you placed upon us. The citizens appreciate our efforts, but it isn't always easy. Whenever you're troubled, Wonderland is troubled, and vice versa. We can keep things as orderly and peaceful as possible on this side, but not always."
The ship turned upside down to meet the river, but Alice didn't feel the change in gravity at all. Even when the river went over a fall, and the ship went over it to the other side: back inside the castle, where the river flowed to the side of a great hall.
The Queen continued: "Now don't believe that we intend to blame you. The troubles you face are not of your design. The most you can take credit for is trusting the wrong people, the sort who don't reveal their true nature until they are given trust. But as you have seen, it's enough to make some long for the days before you could trust people again. When you were suspicious, and reserved, and cared for no one but yourself."
"In other words, when I was alone in poverty and misery." she said, as she absentmindedly twirled the knitting needles in her hands.
"The appeal is as surprising to us as it is to you. But there is an appeal to knowing that you were leading a life separate and safe from those who would hurt and take advantage of you, instead of seeking them out in the vain hope they might take pity on you. Shocking as it may be, there are those who believe you would have been better off had you never met the Doctor."
"If I'd never met the Doctor, I would have been killed by a living statue!"
"Then you would have been put out of your misery." the Queen retorted with obvious discomfort. Additional discomfort arrived when the ship suddenly jumped out of the water, and exited through a diamond-shaped window at the end of the hall.
The conversation continued as the ship sailed through the canopy, and bread-and-butterflies flitted around them. Alice asked: "Were these the sort of creatures who were happy when the Red Queen ruled as you did?"
"Oh no, nobody wished that! Madness and death are horrible, no one wishes for that! At least not these days. The Doctor taught us that there are things worth living for, and Dodgson helped us learn how to live with the pretense of sanity"
"Gifts only learned because we trusted them. And yet they cry for the days before I could trust?"
"True, so true. The people of Wonderland, on some level, are confused, and don't know what they want. That's why-"
"Your Majesty, you're late! The fight's already begun!" called out a voice from below. Before Alice could ask 'what fight?', the White Queen turned her head, and Alice followed. Her question was answered quite thoroughly.
A clearing appeared in the grove, with grasses once again lining the borders of the black-and-white chessboard squares. A throng of animals stood behind a ring of Pawns, Rooks, Bishops, and Knights, leaving a circular area completely clear, save for a pair of large beasts wearing large capes and circling each other: a Lion and a Unicorn.
"What's all this about?" asked Alice.
"They're fighting for the crown," said the White Queen in response. "Each claims to know what is best for you and for Wonderland, but their visions are complete opposites, with no possibility of compromise."
"But don't you-"
The White Queen interrupted "we send our soldiers as peacekeepers. That doesn't mean we rule all of Wonderland. Nor do we intend to. And since you refused the crown, they want it."
Just then, the Lion and the Unicorn threw off their capes, and charged at each other. The Unicorn lowered its horn to impale the Lion, but he jumped over the horn and latched onto his opponent's back. The Unicorn jumped and kicked while the Lion scratched and bit, but half a minute passed before the Lion was finally throw off.
Even though he landed on his feet, the Lion was stunned, and the Unicorn took advantage of this to spin around and kick him with its back legs. It knocked him back, but the Lion was up and roaring before the Unicorn could do it again.
He began to charge again, but the Unicorn whinnied and raised its head multiple times, signaling it wouldn't be fooled by the same trick twice. The Lion couldn't stop his charge in time, and the massive horn cut a scar across his face. The Lion roared, and batted the Unicorn's face with his paw, leaving several scratches.
The battle went on for a while. With each blow, Alice grimaced. It had been many years since she'd seen an actual fight in Wonderland, and she had almost forgotten how brutal they can get. Then, she asked: "Which visions are they fighting for? Which one stands for trusting others, and which against?"
The White Queen stammered for a second, before she admitted (with a quite literal sheepish expression) "...To be honest, We're not sure ourselves. This has been going on for some time, and we must have forgotten!"
Alice groaned, and leaned over the side, still not letting go of the needles she was playing with. "Is there any way I could ask them myself?"
The White Queen gasped in inspiration, and leaned over the side herself: "Knight!" she called out, "call for a refreshment break! Alice wishes to speak with them!"
"Yes ma'am!" called a voice from below. "Ten minutes for refreshments! Bring out the white and brown bread!"
Upon hearing this, the combatants separated, and so did the crowd. Soldiers brought out loaves of white and brown bread, which they cut with very sharp-looking knives (except they used the flat end of the knives to cut). The Bishops also pulled off their hats, revealing them to be full of butter. The combatants got first pick, then the soldiers passed the bread to the crowd.
An unfortunate side effect of this was that the nice, open circle that marked the fighting arena was filled with animals of all shapes and sizes, and there didn't seem to be a nice open spot for a flying boat to land. So Alice scanned the courtyard, leaning over one side and another, looking for a good spot.
"Hmm," she mused to herself as she walked to the front of the ship, "maybe we could land over – whoops!"
Suddenly, Alice stepped on a loose ball of yarn the White Queen was using for knitting, and stumbled. She caught herself on one of the tethers tying the boat to its large balloon. She needed both hands to catch herself, however, and she dropped the knitting needles. She watched their descent as they fell through a gap in the treetops...
...and landed on top of some drums with a resounding 'boom'.
"Wait, what?" said some voices below, "is it time to start the drums already?"
"I thought they still had some more fight in them!"
"I thought they were supposed to have some plum cake first!"
"Oh well, that was the signal, so we'd better start."
And with that, several Pawns grabbed drums of all sorts, and got in a line. Alice didn't have a chance to inform them of their mistake before they started. A cacophony of loud, booming sounds echoed throughout the courtyard, scaring away all the animals. The Lion and the Unicorn stopped everything they were doing, and tried to shout some complaints at the drummers, most likely involving plum cake – but Alice couldn't hear them over the drums, and the drummers likely didn't either. They just marched towards the two mighty animals.
The Lion and the Unicorn hung their heads in defeat, grabbed their capes, and walked off with the drummers behind them. Minutes later they were out of sight, and the drums finally stopped.
"And so it goes again." said the White Queen wistfully. "They can never finish their fighting before the drums start, so the throne of Wonderland remains unclaimed. They'll be at it again soon, we guarantee you. Maybe you can ask them your questions then."
Alice sighed in frustration as the ship finally landed in the now empty (save for soldiers) courtyard. "Until then, I suppose Wonderland remains aimless...as do I?" she asked.
"...We're afraid so." said the White Queen.
The two disembarked, and stepped onto the paved surface, careful to avoid any blood. They were silent for a minute, absorbed in thought.
Eventually, Alice broke the silence: "Well, I don't like being aimless. The longer it lasts, the more likely I will be forced back onto the streets. And if I can't find a direction on my own...I need to find someone who can help me."
"An excellent idea! The hall of recollections might tell of such a person!"
The White Queen clapped her hands and exclaimed, "Knight! To us!"
Again, I'm sorry I kept you waiting for almost a year! The demands of my final years at college have been heavy on me!
But with any luck, I'll get another chapter out, and we'll see if Alice can't pull her life back together!