Author's Note: This chapter has been… interesting, at every stage from conception to completion. It underwent a massive amount of editing between first draft and the final product, especially Alice's POV. I have a very rocky relationship with Alice; it's really difficult for me to write from her perspective, and a lot of the time I don't like her [I think that's because I've spent too much time with Regina]. But while rewriting her POV, she managed to stir my sympathy, so I guess that's a good thing. I think I might have finally found Alice's voice [at least, the voice I need for the purposes of this trilogy], so I'm hoping that future editing will go much more smoothly.
I'm sorry that it took me so long to post this chapter, by the way. I meant to have it out days ago, but just as I was sitting down to begin editing, my characters went utterly haywire, and I found myself adding subplots, creating new scenes, and adding density to the plot of Book Three. I've threatened to kill all my characters about a dozen times, and the work became so consuming that all work on editing this chapter was postponed until I'd gotten it done. But, they've finally shut up [at least, I hope they have], so here this chapter is.
Name Note: Yes, I did name the Bandersnatch after Lewis Carroll. It seemed appropriate to me; I can't imagine Alice not naming the adorable thing. He looks like a Lewis, don't you think?
Images: Remove all spaces.
Regina's gown [but a much lighter blue, nearly white]: http:/ 4. bp. blogspot. com/ -5 K 5 OH 4 DwdUw/ TcH- XDuvCII/ AAAAAAAAAZ 8/ QukBJImxuMA/ s 1600/ inspirationgown. jpg
Mirana's gown [though obviously in white; embroidery's the same though]: http:/ www. arachneattire. com/ projects/ pride/ duchess 2. jpg
Mirana's hat [but with blue flowers]: http:/ www. ladydressup. com/ xcart/ images/ P/ tn_ 1710 % 20 (2). jpg
Lily's gown [but instead of yellow stripes, they're a shiny white satin]: http:/ austenonly. files. wordpress. com/ 2010/ 10/ 61985_ 118013538255170_ 116818671707990_ 123898_ 2329798_ n. jpg
Special Thanks: Oh dear goodness, I threw so many temper tantrums while I was editing this chapter for posting, both because of Alice and because of my characters' foray into story improvements. My poor friend Sandra had to sit through two days' worth of me bitching about how much I hated my characters for what they were doing to me. A million thanks- and several thousand apologies- for everything she had to listen to me complain about.
Also, thanks to my beta Thirteen Thorns for looking over the last two POVs in this chapter! I appreciate your ability to make sense of what I'm writing long after it ceases to make any sense to me! And thanks for your suggestion for Tarrant's POV; he took that idea and [of course] went out of control with it, and jumped the gun on me. Ah well, I can't control Mad men.
Disclaimer: Please refer to the end of this chapter for my disclaimer; it's somewhat spoiler-ish in nature. Also, the Outlandish burr is courtesy of woohoo. I'm sorry if the accent is too thick for you to understand, but then again that's kind of the point.
The gentle warmth of sunlight on her face eased her from slumber. With a rousing as gentle as this, she couldn't bring herself to regret waking, even though she'd been having the loveliest dream… Sighing, she blinked sleepily in the morning light, enjoying drifting in those precious moments after waking before the cares of the day begin to press upon one's brain. She felt more peaceful than she had been in such a long time… She could spend forever like this. Sighing contentedly, she curled up among the sheets, stroking the soft fur of her Kitten and lazily wondering when Witzend had jumped up onto the bed with her. Mother Agnes surely wouldn't be happy if she found out…
Then discordant details began to jar her memory, disrupting the peace of her waking. The white sheets and down comforter, the sheer white silk curtains, the imposing size of the mattress… the room beyond the bed that surely wasn't hers… She sat up quickly with a gasp, suddenly wide awake as the memories returned. She was in Wonderland, in the castle of Marmoreal, and she was a Princess. Regina Miraget Hightopp, the Azure Princess of Witzend. She fell back against the pillows, groaning; the world had been much simpler when she was asleep.
"Must you shift so much, Mistress?" Witzend meowed. "It's not very comfortable."
"Are you awake, dear?"
She sat up, peeking through the curtains. As soon as they saw her, Clover and Azalea bustled forward. Azalea helped Regina out of the large, stately bed as Clover went to the windows, tugging open the drapes. Sighing in resignation, Witzend uncurled herself, her pink tongue lolling out of her mouth as she indulged in a good long stretch.
"Yes, I suppose we are," the Kitten mumbled, twitching her tail.
"Good morning, dear," Azalea said cheerfully.
"Good morning," Regina replied tentatively, tucking her hair behind her ear.
"Her Majesty has requested that you join her for breakfast on her private terrace," Azalea explained, bustling her charge into the dressing chamber. "Let's get you ready, shall we?"
"Yes, thank you," Regina nodded.
While the maids dashed about, opening curtains and fetching things, Regina took a moment to look about the room. She'd been so exhausted physically, mentally and emotionally that she hadn't processed her surroundings yesterday. Now, bolstered by a wonderful night's sleep, she took in her new environment with interest.
Her first impression was that this chamber was grander than anything she had ever seen; even Mary Ascot's suite at home couldn't rival this. It seemed preposterous that this suite should be for her use; she, the poor foundling of unknown parentage! But then again, in Underland she wasn't a foundling; here, she was a princess. Now there was a thought that took some getting used to…
Her second impression was that her suite was awfully and horribly white. The room was large and spacious, with incredibly high ceilings. And admittedly, her rooms were beautifully appointed, which made the whites seem less austere than her room back home had been. But still… it was all white. The walls were hung with white silk, the furniture was all upholstered white, and a thick white carpet lay underfoot. She so hated white… but she supposed it was unavoidable; this was the White Court, after all.
Forcing herself to accept the sea of whiteness, Regina looked around a third time. This dressing room was the smallest in the suite, but even it was spacious, with a large bay window, a lovely vanity, a large bathing tub, and not one but five armoires lining the walls. The bedroom lay beyond, outfitted with a large canopied bed on a dais, an escritoire, and two armchairs clustered around the fireplace. A wide balcony ran outside her bedroom, which also ran outside the sitting room. The sitting room held the expected assortment of chairs, a davenport, an additional writing desk, a piano and a harp.
But the thing that held Regina's attention was the large portrait hanging above the sitting room fireplace. It showed Alice and Tarrant- her parents, she reminded herself- in a garden. Alice sat on a stone bench, with Tarrant bracing one foot on the seat and leaning his weight on that leg. While they both looked up at the artist, it was clear that all of their attention was on their infant daughter, who contentedly lay in her mathair's arms.
The image brought a lump to Regina's throat. This was her family; the parents she had hoped so long to meet. Just as she had always imagined, they were the rulers of a magical kingdom; her stately king of a father even looked rather as she had always imagined him. And yet, she wasn't going to return home to a loving embrace and a happy family in a garden. Her parents hadn't spoken or even seen each other for eighteen years, and each was bloody Mad. She was home… but home had never seemed further away.
Thinking of the home that she was still going to be denied led Regina's thoughts to the ambush on Hightopp Hill. For the millionth time, her thoughts turned to Tar- to her da, she quickly corrected herself. What had happened? Were their assailants dead? Was her da on his way to Marmoreal? Or had he been captured, or even… No, she told herself firmly. She was not going to think that Thought; to even think it tempted Fate. Her da was just fine, and he was on his way to her. She would see him soon, and she would tell him who she was, and they could work on becoming a family.
"Alright, dearie, let's get you dressed," Azalea said, breaking into Regina's thoughts.
She shook her head quickly, forcing herself to refocus on her maid and the dress she held up. Like her gown from yesterday, it wasn't a pure white; this one had the faintest blue tint to it. The dress was fairly simple; apart from incredibly light blue stripes, buttons down the bodice, some shirring around the neck and sleeves, and the frothy overskirt, the dress had no ornamentation. Yet, Regina found herself admiring the gown as Azalea finished buttoning her into it. It was simple, but light, and flattering. She did feel like a princess in it.
Once Regina was secured in the dress, Clover quickly twisted Regina's red hair up and off her face. Regina wished she could go to her nursery and choose a hat from the hundreds her da had made for her, but to do so would surely announce herself as the missing Princess, and she wasn't sure she wanted to do that yet.
"There, now," Azalea smiled. "You're ready."
"And so is your Kitten," Clover announced.
Witzend preened, clearly pleased that Clover had brushed her and tied a fresh blue ribbon around her neck. Regina giggled, leaning down and stroking her Kitten between the ears.
"Are you coming to breakfast with me?" she asked.
"Of course," Witzend purred. "Fresh cream!"
Clover grinned, and dashed to the door, hailing a passing Rabbit page. Drawing a deep breath, Regina walked out of her suite, blinking in confusion as the page bowed to her before remembering that she was, after all, the Champion.
"The Champion's expected in the White Queen's suite for breakfast," Clover informed the page.
"Of course," the page nodded. "Right this way, Miss."
The castle seemed quiet, though whether that was because the Court slept in, or because they were congregating elsewhere, Regina didn't know. She figured that at some point, after it was known who she was, she would have to mingle with the Lords and Ladies, but for now she was quite content to keep to the shadows. The Rabbit paused before a large set of double doors, not too terribly far from Regina's own quarters. The guards opened the doors for her, and the page bowed again before hopping off.
Curling her fists within the filmy fabric of her skirts, Regina walked into Mirana's chambers. As she'd expected, they were opulent and gleaming white. But the effect of whites on whites was somehow tranquil and calming, not at all harsh or boring as it would have been in the Above.
But, Regina reminded herself, this was not the time to admire the interior design. She was here for breakfast with the High Queen… Really, it was less intimidating to refer to her as Aunt Mirana, Regina decided.
Spotting Mirana out on the balcony, Regina stepped forward. As she walked through the massive main chamber towards the terrace, Regina studied the queen's ensemble. Instead of all white and pearls like yesterday's gown had been, today Mirana's dress featured bold blue embroidery on the underskirt, and blue shirred ruffles on the sleeves, neckline, and edges of the overskirt. Mirana's face was shaded by a broad-rimmed sun hat, trimmed with a blue sash and a cluster of blue roses. It was a fetching outfit, though Regina couldn't help but feel that Mirana was celebrating Regina's return in a rather obvious fashion. Wouldn't everyone notice that the White Queen was sporting blue, just as everyone was waiting for the Retiuni Day?
The instant she heard Regina's footfall, Mirana rose, arms outstretched and a smile on her dark lips.
"Good morning, Regina," she said warmly.
"Good morning… Aunt Mirana," Regina replied hesitantly.
She was rewarded by a bright, loving smile from the White Queen, who promptly guided her back to the table. As she stepped out onto the terrace, Regina discovered that Mirana had not been alone with the generous repast. Seated at the other end of the table was a young woman who looked about Regina's age. She shared Mirana's pale skin, but her eyes were dark blue, and her short curls a glossy black. She was also, predictably, garbed in white, with stripes of a shiny ivory fabric that Regina assumed to be satin. Her gown also featured ruffles at the neckline, hem, and sleeves, but like Regina, her dress featured no embroidery.
"Oh… hello," Regina said shyly.
"Regina, this is my eldest daughter Lily," Mirana smiled. "She's been very impatient to meet you."
"It's nice to meet you," Regina said.
"Oh, that sounds so formal for cousins," Lily laughed. "Come sit with me, Regina. We must become very good friends, you and I. Do you mind if I call you Gigi right off? You look like a Gigi to me."
So saying, Lily jumped up, bouncing around the table and grabbing Regina's hand, dragging her back to sit beside her. Regina giggled softly as she followed in her cousin's wake; Lily seemed every bit as outgoing and opinionated as her cousin Lottie had been in the Aboveground. In no time at all, Lily had Regina seated, and was picking a little bit off each plate for Regina to try while Regina filled a teacup with cream for Witzend, who wove between Regina's ankles for a moment before settling down to enjoy her breakfast.
"Did you sleep well, my dear?" Mirana asked as she poured them all tea.
"Very well, thank you," Regina nodded, nibbling at what Lily called a waterberry.
"I am glad to hear it," Mirana smiled. "I have cancelled all of my meetings for today. I imagine you must have many questions you'd like answered."
A faint smile quirked one corner of Regina's mouth. "You seem to know me so well already."
Mirana smiled. "You are very much like your parents. I have never met two people so filled with curiosity."
Regina stared down into her tea, faintly surprised at its purple color. "How did it happen?" she asked, her voice low as she forced out the painful question. "Why was I taken? I was… I was alone, Up there. All alone, without my family, without… without all of this. Why?" she asked, her voice choked with tears.
Lily looked up from her plate of eggs; clearly this was a topic of interest to her, as well. Regina found that somewhat surprising; she had assumed that everyone in Underland would have known the reasons behind her disappearance. Mirana sighed, and if she hadn't been a Queen her posture may have been described as a slump.
"Before you were born, there were… rumors," she began. "Whispers, of a rebellion in the west, beyond the mountains. My sister Iracebeth and the Red Knave had already been banished for over five years at that point, and there was no reason to assume that they would be able to return to Underland."
"But?" Regina asked as Mirana fell silent.
"But, Underland was not at peace," Mirana said. "Sometimes, when the Spirit of Underland feels particularly threatened, She will whisper in the ears of Her rulers, try to protect Herself. She whispered a tale of unrest to me. I felt that Royal Blood was soon to be spilled."
"Tar- my… my… athair," Regina ventured, stumbling over the Outlandish word. "My da told me that he and my mother hatched a plot to spirit me out, far enough away that the Oraculum wouldn't be able to see me. But I was stolen before that could happen."
Mirana nodded. "I am not the only servant of Underland. All the Royals serve Her, and the Keeper of the Oraculum, and the Guardian. When Underland foresaw that Tarrant's attempt would fail, She took matters into Her own hands, and ordered the Guardian to bring you Above."
"The Guardian?" Regina asked, brow furrowed.
Mirana inclined her head. "You know him as the Cheshire Cat."
"Cheshire!" Regina exclaimed.
For a moment she stared, wondering if her aunt, like so many others in Underland, had gone utterly Mad. All the stories she'd read of the Cheshire Cat portrayed him as aloof, uninterested in politics and never wanting to cause bother to himself. Cheshire, an agent of Underland? It boggled the mind.
And yet, all of those descriptions somehow made sense. When seen through the lens of Guardian of Underland, the Cat's actions took on a new light. He had, after all, acted as guide to Alice, Underland's Champion, more than once… He had saved the leader of the Underland Underground Resistance from prison and beheading… He had aided Underland's missing Princess on her return home… When viewed like that, the Cat wasn't nearly as selfish and cowardly as he at first appeared. Truly, nothing was as it seemed in Underland.
"So… Cheshire brought me Above," Regina said slowly. "And my parents… both went Mad," she said, her voice cracking. She looked down at her napkin to avoid Mirana's and Lily's pity-filled gazes, twisting it between her fingers. "Da told me that my mother blamed him for what had happened."
"What?" Lily exclaimed, shock clear in her voice.
Mirana silenced her buoyant daughter with a look, then returned her attention to Regina. "It was a horrible argument," she sighed. "I'm sure much of it was due to exhaustion; they had spent weeks scouring every inch of every kingdom in Underland. Tarrant even journeyed into the Outlands. But you were nowhere to be found. When Alice realized that you were gone… she went Mad. And Tarrant, when he saw Alice's grief and fury, broke under his own guilt and grief, and he fell back into his Madness. It was awful. They argued, and Alice Banished Tarrant from Berserka, and he went to sit at his Tea Party. When he left, Alice… I suppose the only way you can describe it is that Alice broke. Tarrant was always Alice's Muchness, you see; without him to stand by her and believe in her, she fell into darkness. She became the Black Queen, and I brought her here."
"Can her Madness be reversed?" Regina asked tentatively.
"Not reversed," Mirana said. "What's done is done, and you cannot change the past. But I believe Alice's Madness to be situational. Once she knows that you are alive and home, you can move on into the future, which I am sure you will do after the Retiuni Day."
Regina frowned. That couldn't be right; the Retiuni Day happened when the Azure Princess returned to Marmoreal. She was in Marmoreal, was she not? So where was her Retiuni Day?
"I don't understand," she said. "Wasn't yesterday the Retiuni Day? I mean, I'm here, I'm home…"
"I'm afraid not," Mirana said apologetically. "Originally, yes, this should have been the Retiuni Day. But something's… happened."
"What do you mean, Mother?" Lily frowned.
Mirana drew a deep breath. "Some time after you were taken Above, my dear, I learned that the Royal Blood that was shed on the Catahoribus Day was that of my sister, Iracebeth."
Regina gasped. "The Red Queen? She's…"
She shivered, unable to complete the Thought. Mirana nodded gravely, before her gaze dropped to her tea before drawing a deep breath.
"Last night, Absolem brought me the Oraculum," she continued. "It showed me many things, all troubling."
"Did you see my da?" Regina asked, fear and hope battling in her veins.
"I did," Mirana nodded. "I'm sorry, my dear. It's not good news."
Regina felt herself paling as her heart began to hammer. Her head began to buzz, a dull drone that blocked out all other sound and even caused her vision to blur.
"Oh God," she whispered. "He's nae…?"
Lily frowned, turning her head to observe her cousin. Her eyes had gone a dull, slate grey; as a matter of fact, the grayness seemed to have spread over her entire body, dulling even Regina's vibrant hair. And had her voice just developed a soft burr…?
Lily glanced at her mother, but Mirana didn't seem alarmed. Was this how Tarrant had sounded when he teetered on the brink of Madness? Lily didn't remember having ever met the Mad Hatter; he and Alice had fallen into Madness when she was only two. But she had grown up hearing the stories, of how the Hatter's strange Hightopp eyes would shift colors with his moods, and how when the Madness was close, his voice would develop the ancient burr of his Outlandish ancestors. Was that now happening to Regina?
"Calm yourself, my dear. He's alive," Mirana said. "The men who ambushed you on Hightopp Hill were Outlanders, men in the employ of the Knave."
"Th' Knave!" Regina burst out, leaping out of her seat and upsetting her Kitten's teacup of cream. "Hoo did he gie intae Underlan'? Didne ye banish heem?"
"I did," Mirana said. "I don't know how he or his men got into Underland. But the Outlanders have killed my Pawns, and captured your father, Mallymkun and Thackery, and taken them to Salazen Grum. Stayne intends to set himself up as the Red King of Crims; we cannot allow that to happen."
Regina swallowed hard, closing her eyes and bringing her hands up to rub her temples in an attempt to get the buzzing in her head to cease. She drew in a slow breath, and felt the buzzing begin to abate. As it left her, she felt drained and shaky, and strangely exhausted, but she was herself again. She looked up at Mirana, trying to think.
"My mother is the Champion of Underland," she said shakily. "Can't she meet Stayne in battle and defeat him?"
"A Champion will meet Stayne in battle, yes," Mirana said gravely. "But not Alice."
Regina froze, really not liking the turn the conversation was taking. Mirana looked at her niece sympathetically, and soldiered on, though she didn't like this anymore than Regina.
"When Alice became the Blue Queen, she was no longer eligible to be my Champion. Queens cannot champion other Queens. That is why Kalen is my Champion now, and Tarrant Champions your mother. That is, he did, Before." She drew a deep breath, then delivered the death blow. "Underland brought you here and named you Queens' Champion, Regina. You will fight Stayne."
Regina blinked, caught off guard by that information. Then it began to sink in, and the buzzing came back, stronger in intensity this time. She tried to fight against it, but it was like trying to hold back a tidal wave, and within moments the wave had crashed over her, utterly consuming her. So, helplessly, she allowed it to consume her, frantically fighting to regain the surface.
Mirana sighed in resignation as Regina leapt from her seat, which promptly toppled over. With a wordless snarl, Regina swiped her hand before her, knocking a tiered food tray to the floor. Lily yelped, jumping back as the young Hightopp began to rage. Mirana stood slowly, her eyes dark with pity; she had hoped so very hard that Alice's genetic influence might have been enough to save Regina from this fate.
It had always been a vain hope, she supposed. All the Hightopps had been Mad, in their own ways; it was an integral part of their makeup, deep in their blood. But Regina was only half a Hightopp; Mirana, Alice and even Tarrant had prayed every day that Regina's Kingsleigh half would provide enough sanity to keep the Hightopp Madness at bay. According to Absolem, it had worked in the Above, where blood and breeding had suppressed Regina's Outlandish side. But now… After all, Wonderland bred Madness. Perhaps it wasn't surprising that Regina should prove to be Mad… but Mirana found it very sad that her young niece should be afflicted with the same Madness that had proved so crippling to her parents.
Squaring her shoulders, Mirana strode forward. She pitied and abhorred the Madness that had plagued the Hightopps, but years of experience with Alice had taught her how to combat it. As Regina turned, Mirana clapped her cool hands to Regina's cheeks, forcing the girl to cease moving and stare her in the eyes. While Regina's eyes were still a dangerous shade of sickly yellow-grey, at least she stopped raving, and movement turned to speech.
"Whit?" she burred, shaking. "Aam… whit? Nae. Nae, Ah cannae dae thes. Aam nae Alice, aam nae a warriur. Aam a lassie frae London. Whit abit me makes Underlan' hink Ah can play Champion an' gang it oan th' battlefield? An' against th' Knave? He nearly killed baith ay may parents! Ah canne bamie heem! Why dae Ah hae tae dae thes? Nae. Nae, Ah willnae. Nae me. Ah cannae dae thes."
"Regina, there is no choice," Mirana said firmly. "Underland named you her Champion when you arrived here; it's the reason why you've made it this far. You must finish what you began. You must defeat the Knave."
Regina shook her head, feeling as though the buzzing were trying to shake her apart. She wanted to run again… but where could she go? She had tried running yesterday, only to find that she could not escape the Truth; did she really think she could outrun her Destiny, as well?
She sank into her chair, wrapping her arms around herself as the shaking subsided into shivering. Her head began to throb as the buzzing slowly died down, making it difficult for her vision to remain clear. She bent her head, biting back frustrated tears.
"I'm afraid," she whimpered, her voice barely more than a whisper.
"Oh, Gigi!" Lily exclaimed.
Instantly, Lily had rushed over to Regina, nearly smothering her in a hug. Shivering, Regina laid her head on Lily's shoulder, as if she could hide from the Truth in her cousin's arms.
"I know, my dear," Mirana said softly. "Alice was afraid, too. But Underland has meant for you to do this."
Regina looked up at her aunt, sensing that there were words the White Queen wasn't saying. Was there more to this Call from Underland than Mirana was letting on? But Mirana fell silent, and Regina sighed, letting it go.
"Then I suppose there's no choice," she said dully. "What must I do?"
"Finish your breakfast," Mirana replied. "Then I will bring you to the training grounds. Your Uncle Kalen will give you what training he can."
"Alright," Regina said quietly. "For Da."
After a subdued breakfast, Mirana stood, leading the girls off of her terrace. As they walked, Lily slipped her arm around Regina's waist, chattering on about nothing in particular. Regina clung to her words gratefully; anything was better than thinking about what it was she had been tasked with.
Unfortunately, once they had reached the training grounds, even Lily's determined chitchat was no longer sufficient to hold Regina's attention. The grounds were extensive and scrupulously manicured, outfitted with archery targets, wooden practice dummies, and cleared areas for hand-to-hand combat. Normally, Regina presumed, the arena would be filled with clashing weapons and the labored sounds of men training for battle. Perhaps she should have been comforted by the lack of an audience, but instead the silence was unsettling. Regina felt a deep expectation in the air, as though the arena and Underland in general were waiting to judge her, to compare her to her famous mother.
Regina found that notion spectacularly unfair. She was no Alice of Legend; she was no Champion. Warrior craft and swordsmanship had hardly been part of her childhood education, and even though she had often imagined herself going on grand adventures with an armor-clad Alice, she had never once thought to actually face a battle herself!
Her attention was diverted by the appearance of a tall, stately-looking man. From his black hair and blue eyes, Regina assumed that this must be Lily's father, Mirana's husband… and thus, her uncle. She swallowed hard as she watched him experimentally heft a sword; Fates, did Underland really expect her to do this? How in all the worlds had her mother… no, she didn't want to call her by that hallowed term… How had Alice found the courage to do this?
"Regina, my sweet, this is your Uncle Kalen, King of Marmoreal and my Champion," Mirana said, laying a loving hand on her husband's arm.
"Hello, Regina," Kalen smiled, his blue eyes twinkling. "Look at how you've grown! I remember holding you in my arms when you were a baby, and now look at you. All grown up, and as beautiful as your mother. And as determined, so I hear."
Regina smiled tightly, the gesture little more than her lips stretching over her teeth. She knew it was meant as a compliment, but Regina was finding that she wasn't as enthusiastic about being compared to The Alice as she once might have been. As far as Regina was concerned, her moth- Alice was selfish and cruel and there was precious little to admire about a woman who Banished her own husband after placing sole blame for their daughter's disappearance on his head.
"Come, let's get you into some suitable clothes," Kalen said. "Then we'll go over the basics."
"Come on, Gigi," Lily said, grabbing Regina's arm. "I'll stay with you."
Regina nodded, strangely soothed by her cousin's determined presence. With Lily's help, Regina was soon stripped of her Court dress, corset, stockings, and high-heeled shoes, and was dressed instead in a thin tunic and a pair of breeches that exposed her legs to the knees. A scandalous outfit, in the Above… and utterly comfortable. As Regina braided her hair off her face, she shook her head and sighed.
"I can't believe I've only been here three days," she commented. "I wonder if there'll ever be a time when I can just enjoy the fact that I'm finally home?"
"Perhaps," Lily shrugged. "Or then again, perhaps not. Life doesn't much like to slow down, not for anything."
"I suppose you're right," Regina admitted.
Once they were ready, Regina and Lily walked back into the arena. Kalen was waiting for them, looking over an assortment of weapons. A quick glance around found Mirana seating herself under a shaded pavilion.
"I'm afraid we haven't much time," Kalen began apologetically. "Stayne is already at Salazen Grum, according to Mirana's sources. We'll issue the formal Challenge tonight, and march to the Checkerboard in the morning."
Regina drew in a shaky breath, her head spinning. Tomorrow! She was going to meet the infamous Knave in battle tomorrow? Incoherent, half-formed objections flooded Regina's mind. Fates, this wasn't enough time; she needed more time! To prepare, to catch her breath, to get her bearings, to find her courage… She couldn't do this. And yet, she clearly had no choice.
"Since we have only a very little time, I'm afraid your training is going to be rudimentary," Kalen continued. "Enough so that you can counter what Stayne is most likely to do as he fights. Have you ever held a weapon before?"
"I know archery and fencing," Regina croaked. "My foster father was a bit eccentric in that way, he thought I should learn if I wanted to. But I hardly think Stayne will be so kind as to allow capped and blunted blades."
"I'm afraid not," Kalen agreed.
He turned to a rack of weapons, choosing an enormous, long-bladed sword that Regina regarded with dismay-filled eyes. The blade glinted in the sunlight, seemingly going on forever, and clearly deadly sharp.
"This is a broadsword," Kalen stated. "It's Stayne's preferred weapon."
"Of course it is," Regina replied weakly.
"It's very heavy, very powerful," Kalen continued. "Very effective weapon, if you know how to use it."
"Which Stayne does," Regina said shakily.
Kalen looked like he was about to answer, until he got a good look at Regina's face. What he saw, she didn't know, but whatever it was seemed to be enough to cause him to set the sword down and place his hands on her shoulders, in a movement so loving and parental that it brought tears to her eyes. Well, additional tears, at any rate; tears of loneliness and worry for her da on top of tears of panic and overwhelm.
"Regina, Underland would not have set you this task if it lay beyond your strength," he said bracingly.
"But I'm not a warrior," she replied helplessly as tears leaked from her eyes. "I'm just a girl from London."
"You're not," Kalen told her, bending forward to lock eyes with her. "You are the daughter of the Champion of Underland and the leader of the Underland Underground Resistance. Your parents' strength and courage flows in your veins also, Regina, and I know you'll do them proud."
Regina closed her eyes and drew a shaky breath, summoning up a mental picture of her da. She forced herself to focus on the memory of his wide green eyes and wild red hair, both of which she had clearly inherited, on his gap-toothed grin and endearingly offbeat eccentricities. She had his whimsy, his looks. Yet, she knew that beneath the child-like exterior, her da was an Outlander, with a spine of steel and a protective streak not to be crossed. Had she inherited that, as well? And Alice, for all her faults, had defeated the Red Queen and the Jabberwocky, saving all of Underland, when she was only a year older than Regina was now. If Alice with all her faults could do so much, could Regina do the same?
"What do I do?" Regina asked, pleased to hear that she sounded somewhat calmer.
Kalen smiled, clearly pleased that she had controlled herself. "There are disadvantages to Stayne's fighting style, which we're going to exploit. The broadsword is a two-handed weapon, so he won't be able to draw any other weapons. It's also very heavy, so all Stayne can do is swing and hold on. It's a slicing weapon; once you swing it, you can't change direction or momentum. That works if you're going against another broadsword, but if your opponent is lighter and faster on their feet, you've got yourself a problem."
"So I'll be lighter and faster," Regina nodded.
"Very much so," Kalen nodded.
He returned to the rack of weapons, choosing two short, lighter blades. He handed one to Regina hilt first with an expectant face. She rubbed her suddenly sweaty palms on her breeches, then forced herself to raise her arm and grasp the hilt. She curled her fingers tightly around the leather grip, holding up the sword and examining it, wondering if she should feel any different. Was she supposed to feel something stirring in her blood, some long-suppressed warrior instinct? If that was the case, then she was failing spectacularly. She didn't feel particularly like a warrior; mostly she felt foolish.
For Da, she reminded herself. She had to do this; her da's life and liberty depended upon it.
"Cutlass," Kalen stated. "You'll want to weave in and out, make Stayne swing at you and miss. He'll tire. Then deflect his blade with one sword, and thrust with the other."
Regina nodded, studying her blade, until something clicked in her mind. She looked up slowly, feeling as though a fog was lifting and she was finally able to see this situation for what it was.
"This is a duel to the death, isn't it?" she asked fearfully. "I have to kill him."
Kalen nodded, just as somber. "Yes," he said gravely, finality in his voice. "He won't stop until you're dead, or he is."
Regina looked away, her heart heavy and beating erratically. Could she do this? It was all well and good to call herself the Champion and learn to heft a sword, but could she kill? Did she have a choice? If she didn't stop Stayne, he would take over Crims, and all of Underland would be thrown into chaos once again. All of Alice's hard work as the Champion would be undone in a moment. She had no choice; she had to finish what Alice had begun.
"I'll come at you the way Stayne likely will," Kalen said, lifting the broadsword again. "Lily will show you how to dodge and deflect me."
Regina drew a deep breath, gripping her swords. Was she ready for this? Absolutely not. Did she have a choice? Absolutely not. Her da had been captured by this monster; he was coming to undo Alice's work. And she was the only thing standing in his way. She would not fail her parents; she wouldn't let Underland down.
"Let's go," she said grimly.
The air smelled of a Challenge.
Alice could feel it; a drumming in the land, a stirring of the breeze. It was like the ionization before a storm, foretelling rain and lightning, and it energized her in a way she hadn't been in years.
Someone had issued a formal Challenge.
A corner of her soul, long since dormant, began to awaken and stir, thrilling in anticipation. She was the Champion, and she so loved a fight. It had been so very long since she'd had a good fight, and she found herself sniffing the air, her Champion's senses straining to find the field of combat.
The Challenge vibrations were strongest from behind her, from the east. To the east and slightly to the south… a thrill went through her as she realized where the Challenge was issuing from. The Checkerboard. The sight of her great triumph so many years ago, and now it was to see another fight.
She assumed that the Challenge had been issued because of the Aboveground girl's abysmal failure. The depth of the girl's incompetence was astonishing to Alice. Weren't Uplanders meant to be the sane ones? Wasn't that why Underland chose them to rescue Her in Her hours of need? Yet not only had this jumped-up fake failed to restore Alice's daughter, but she had also caused Tarrant's ambush, likely capture, probable torture, and possible death.
After she'd answered the Challenge, Alice was going to strangle that girl with her bare hands.
And then, she might possibly want to lash out at Underland itself. Really, what had the place been thinking? Wonderland was hers; her dream, her secret, her legacy. If Underland needed a Champion again, She should have called to Alice. But even if Underland wanted a new Champion [a desire that she didn't understand at all], couldn't She at least have chosen someone competent? This new Champion was nothing more than a girl, and a weak, foolish one at that. This girl was no more worthy to wear the title of Champion than a borogrove! It felt like a betrayal, and the fact that the betrayal had come at the metaphorical hands of the only place that had ever felt like Home was deeply painful to her.
Had Underland finally decided that she wasn't good enough after all, that she didn't truly belong here? Was that why She had ensnared another Champion? Was Underland trying to push Alice aside and start over, with a new Dreamer?
If that was the case… what was the point in remaining in Underland any longer? If her adopted homeland didn't need her… she could return to her birth country. Why not? She didn't know what havoc Time had wreaked in England, but surely there was still a place for her. True, her birth world wasn't as magical as Wonderland. But then again, Alice wasn't nearly as magical herself, anymore. She hardly felt like the muchness-filled Champion who had come blazing through this world at age nineteen, positive that she was dreaming this but determined to set all to rights. Perhaps it wasn't only Underland; maybe they had both outgrown each other.
As she thought back, Alice had to admit that almost all of her time in Underland had been a failure. Yes, there had been years of blissful happiness; those beautiful seven years after she'd come Home for the final time, those perfect years that had been brutally destroyed by the loss of her child. But since the day her beautiful, perfect daughter had been stolen away from her, Underland had become dark and ugly and utterly, utterly cruel. Alice had found nothing further to love in her home; Underland had become the enemy, the monster who had taken her daughter away. She had remained here all these years primarily because of Mirana; the White Queen had brought her to Marmoreal in the hopes of curing her. But clearly there was no cure for Alice's sorrow, so why should she remain?
At the thought of her daughter, the beautiful innocent child that she had held and loved for so brief a time, Alice cracked, tears leaking beneath her eyelids as a heartbroken whimper shattered her furious silence. Her child, her darling Regina… her little queen… She would never, ever forgive Underland for stealing her daughter from her. And she didn't even have the comfort of knowing that her daughter was alive, safe, cared for, loved. Who had rocked her baby to sleep? Had someone discovered that when Regina was frightened, one had to carry her outside and show her the flowers? Did anyone sing nonsense words to her in an off-key voice, simply because it made her laugh? Did some other woman tenderly bathe her child, kissing each beauty mark that accented her soft baby skin?
Or… or was it possible that Underland had done the unthinkable, and stolen Time from Alice? Was it possible that Regina was no longer a baby, that she had utterly Grown Up, and that Alice had been forbidden to see any of it? Was her beloved baby now a grown woman, a stranger? Was she old enough to dream, to love, to miss her home, to hate her parents for having lost her?
If Underland had indeed stolen that precious amount of Time… Alice couldn't even contemplate what she would do to Underland in return, but it would not be pretty. What she had done to Iracebeth would be nothing in comparison to what she would do to the Spirit of Underland…
So lost was Alice in her fearful, dark thoughts that she had completely lost track of Time; she had even forgotten that she was still straddling Lewis' back, her hands wrapped in his thick fur. She had been so distracted, so Mad, when she stormed out of the palace that she hadn't even stopped to wait for the grooms to put Lewis' saddle and bridle on. Truth be told, she had always preferred to ride the Bandersnatch bareback. Poor Lewis must have been running through Wonderland for hours now, but it wasn't until he ceased all movement that Alice even realized that she was still riding him. With a murmured apology, she slid from the Bandersnatch' back… and then froze, upon seeing where Lewis had brought her.
It had been years, but she could never forget this place.
Upon seeing the empty Tea Table, though, new emotions began to penetrate through the angry haze of the Madness that she had clung to for so long. Ugly emotions, more painful than she had anticipated. She wanted to disappear back into the darkness, the unfeeling haze she had wrapped herself in as the Black Queen, but she found that she didn't have the strength to run and hide from the emotions. Regret, bitter and sharp… sorrow, crushing and inescapable… and worst of all, guilt. A pressing, crushing, suffocating guilt.
She had Known he would come here, when she'd Banished him. She had Known, in some deep corner of her mind that the Madness hadn't quite penetrated, that he had been here for years. But it had all been an abstract, a theoretical concept, easily ignored. She had never understood what she had done to him… until Lewis brought her here, forced her to face what she had done.
This place had been Tarrant's worst nightmare. His prison, the isolated, forgotten corner of the world where he had endlessly Waited for her. This had been his cage. She had once freed him from it… and she had been the one to force him back inside.
What had she done?
Her mind felt as though it were ripping itself apart, vacillating this way and that. He had deserved this, hadn't he? He had been the one to lose their daughter, to let their precious little queen slip through his burned, bandaged, be-thimbled fingers… Hadn't he? He had lost their Regina, and so he deserved to be forsaken…
But he was Her Tarrant. He had never failed her, never let her fall. He had fought for her, always; hadn't he fought for their daughter? He had gone into the Outlands to find their little girl; he had been the one who formed the plan to try to protect her when the Oraculum warned that she would be lost. Tarrant had fought for Regina; Alice had been the one who failed.
And she had punished Tarrant for her failure. She had banished him from their home, from her life; she had sent him back to one of his darkest nightmares. And she had done it with no thought, no remorse.
Fates, she was just as cruel as Iracebeth had been.
What had she done?
She had Forgotten, that's what. She had allowed herself to Forget that he was Real, that he wasn't just some Figment of her Imagination. She had treated him as if he didn't truly exist, as if he were just some passing fancy to be discarded and forgotten about. He had given Everything for her, and she had repaid him by treating him like Nothing.
Her legs gave out from under her, and she collapsed onto the ground, shaking. Her armor clanked and shifted uncomfortably, and she was sure she was going to bruise, but she didn't feel it. She was aware of nothing, except her own Realizations. For the first time in years, she was truly thankful that she was utterly Alone. Fates, she didn't deserve to be around anyone; she was a wretched monster, capable only of destroying the ones she purported to love.
"Oh, Tarrant," she whimpered. "I'm so sorry."
Meaningless; the apology meant nothing, spoken as it was to an empty clearing. The ghosts that haunted this place- the shades of Tarrant, Mally, Thackery, even a younger version of herself- couldn't hear her, nor could they offer her absolution for her sins. She might be sorry, but there would be no forgiveness for her.
Strange; it was the first time in her life that Tarrant hadn't waited for her. For as long as she had known him, ever since she was six years old, Tarrant had always been Waiting. It had never mattered how long she had been gone; he had always been there when she returned. She hadn't even realized how much she had come to depend on that, until the one day he wasn't there.
Even Tarrant was no longer waiting for her. No, he had left the prison Alice had put him into, in order to serve another Champion. She hated that Idea. She was the Champion, and Tarrant was meant to wait for her, not anyone else. She didn't like their history being repeated without her in it. It was their history, something that belonged to them alone, and Underland had no right to try and make Herself a new Champion by recycling Alice and Tarrant's story.
Despite everything she had done to him, he was her Hatter. How dare Underland attempt to make him into someone else's protector.
She truly was going to strangle this pretender Champion now, for daring to steal Tarrant from her.
Alice raised her head, blinking back more hot tears. She closed her eyes, focusing once again on the low, urgent vibrations issuing forth from the Checkerboard. It was a seductive call to her, one which she could not ignore.
A Challenge had been issued. And despite everything Alice had done and experienced and sacrificed, she was the Once and Always Champion.
She would give this last service to Underland, before she ripped it apart.
He was beginning to wonder if he hadn't invented the past eighteen years. If everything he thought had happened to him since the Frabjous Day wasn't just hallucination, dreams he had invented to get away from some never-ending torture.
Every time he forced his swollen, bruised eyelids to open, he found himself back in a room he knew all too well. The room was small; only space enough for four and a half steps across widthwise, or three and seven-eighths steps lengthwise. The walls were thick stone, but for the rusted iron bars of the door; the stone floor was softened only by moldy straw and rodent refuse. Water was dripping in from the ceiling in one corner, and the incessant drip drip should have been enough to drive him stark-raving Mad, had he been paying attention. There was very little ambient light in the dungeon; no window of course, as the place was built underground. He was secured in place by manacles on his ankles, not that he needed the restraints; where was he going to go? He had no pishalver, and he highly doubted he'd be able to break down the wall with thread. Perhaps if he'd had scissors and a needle, but those had been taken from him long ago. Besides, even if he wasn't facing all these impediments, the dungeon was well-guarded by strong, highly efficient guards, and he was trapped within the blackness of his own mind. No, he was trapped.
What he didn't know was if he had returned to this dungeon cell in Salazen Grum for a second time, or if he had never left.
He was dimly aware of having been tortured. The painful bruises and his clearly broken ribs would have confirmed that for him, if nothing else. But the physical torture had been nothing, really; that pain was easy to hide from. It didn't matter what his interrogator- a tall, imposing soldier of a young man with eyes so blue they reminded him painfully of His Alice- did to him; he could hide from his torturer in a world all his own. It was a beautiful dream world; His Alice was there, dancing the Futterwhacken with him. And his wee little boy, his precious little queen, was there; growing slowly before his eyes so he could savor every minute change between the tiny, curious baby she had been and the beautiful, determined girl he had known so briefly, only a few days ago. He was so busy soothing Regina's bruised knees with butter and jam, and creating Hats for her unruly curls, and fending off Princes who had come to court her, that he had no attention to spare for the torture.
Blows and bumps and bruises and blood… and then they had tried to break him.
The tall, muscular one had finally gone away, to be replaced by a dark, wiry one. Where the Brute had tried to break Tarrant's body, the Brain had attempted to break his mind. He had wounded with words, skillfully throwing all of Tarrant's failures into his face- losing Alice, losing Regina, failing to save his family, losing his mind and becoming a weak, pathetic shadow of his former self, moping out in the isolation of the Tulgey Wood. Tarrant had many dark twists and turns and rooms within the labyrinth of his mind, but he wasn't able to completely outrun the Brain's words.
Never had Tarrant been so grateful for his Madness, for the all-encompassing Darkness that would blot out his vision and his hearing and blind him to everything occurring around him. Once, Tarrant might have tried to fight the Blackness; now, he whole-heartedly and willingly surrendered to it. Within the Darkness, he was safe; he couldn't be touched, couldn't be reached by anything that was said or done to him. The Madness had been his enemy, once, back when he still had something to protect. He had lived his life in perpetual fear that he would slip into the Blackness and hurt His Alice, or worse still, his wee little boy. He had feared becoming mired in the Madness, unable to return to his right mind. But he had no such fear now; as a matter of fact, he was counting on the Blackness to protect him, to help him hide his secrets.
From the moment he had sensed the intruders encroaching upon the Hill, he had known what they were after. Somehow- it hardly mattered how- they had learned of the precious Champion he had been guarding so carefully. They had learned that Jane was in Underland. He could only hope that they never learned Tarrant's secret. It was bad enough that they wanted Jane dead; they didn't need to know that she wasn't a Jane at all. They knew that Tarrant knew where she was, and they wanted that information.
And Tarrant was absolutely determined that they never learn where she was. He had been steadfast in his protection of her from the moment she had arrived at his Tea Table. But as they had begun to travel to Marmoreal, and as he had begun to fit the puzzle pieces together and discovered who she truly was, his need to protect her had been absolute. Jane wasn't a Jane at all, and whoever had thought to name her thus had earned Tarrant's eternal scorn. How dare they take his perfect, beautiful Regina and give her a name as un-Muchy and dull as Jane? No, she was no Jane. She was Regina, his little queen, his precious, adored daughter, and the need to protect her from these men who wanted to kill her was paramount.
And so Tarrant surrendered himself to the Madness, clinging to the Blackness like a drowning man to a floatation device during a tempest. In his Madness, he would rage and scream and fight back, but he would spout gibberish and riddles. The secret of Regina's location would be safely hidden with him in the Darkness, locked away in a place where his tormentors could not reach.
He had no doubt that they would kill him when they discovered he couldn't be broken. In a way, he was glad; if they killed him, his precious secret died with him, and he would be safe. But at the same time, thought of his impending doom was crushing; the Idea that he was going to die before he ever had a chance to hold his wee little boy safe in his arms again was so painful it nearly shook him out of the Madness.
But he had made her a promise. He had sworn to protect her and keep her safe. And if the only way he could keep her from harm was through his death, then so be it. He had failed his daughter once; he would not do so again.
So he abandoned himself to the Darkness, and he awaited the never-ending darkness that was sure to come soon.
Disclaimer: Please don't kill me for what I've done to Tarrant. I did promise that I would eventually fix all plot-driven character mangling. Eventually. I know he's Mad and severely injured from a lot of torture at the hands of characters who really need to stop stealing my attention from my plot [stubborn, ridiculous Outlanders…], but… um… at least he's alive? That's good, right? Like I said, I'll fix it, I promise!