Author's Note: I meant to only do a few minor edits for this chapter. Instead, I ended up rewriting it all. I added about six pages' worth of content, I believe; my characters no longer know how to shut up. And during the rewrite, the chapter ended up veering to a completely new direction, which was unexpected but kind of cool.
I kind of loved Alice in this chapter. She and I don't usually get along, as I've mentioned before, but I really enjoyed playing with her in this chapter. She went in a really interesting direction in the rewrite, and I liked watching her go there. The same holds true for Tarrant; he went veering off in this amazing direction. I'm absolutely going to have to return to what happens in this chapter.
There's a whole lot more I want to say about this chapter, but all of it is incredibly spoiler-ish in nature. So all I can really say is… Enjoy!
Borrowed Material: Quite a few minor details got lifted from other sources. The idea of Sora's saddle is taken from the Warg riders in The Two Towers. Dafydd saying "he's mad as a box of frogs" was stolen from the SyFy Alice miniseries [gotta love the Hatter]. His reference to painting flowers comes from the All Time Low song on the Almost Alice soundtrack. Tarrant's reference to being "fit as a butcher's dog" also comes from the SyFy Alice.
One thing that is not borrowed, though, is the prophecy/poem Absolem speaks. I came up with that all by myself, and I'm incredibly proud of it. Yes, it will eventually all be explained.
Disclaimer: Yes, this scene is really similar to the battle in the movie. I did that on purpose. We've had various examples throughout the story of how similar Regina is to her father; I thought it was only fair to show that she's got a fair bit of her mother in her, too.
She hadn't slept.
A golden afternoon had faded into a twilight that lay over Marmoreal like a benediction. Twilight had deepened into an inky midnight sky, dotted with a million diamond stars. Night had in its turn faded into a dawn streaked with blood red, violent orange, a rosy blush with the purple-blue of evening still clinging to the edges of the sky.
And Regina hadn't slept. She had dragged an armchair out onto her balcony and spent the entire night curled up with Witzend in her lap, sipping tea and keeping watch through what could be her last night in any world.
The thought that this could be her last night was sobering, and frightening. Just what would happen to her if she died in Underland? Would she be immediately sent back Above? Would she cease to exist in any land? When Alice was a little girl, and was being chased by the Queen of Hearts after being put on trial, she had escaped being beheaded by waking up in her own world. But if Regina could wake up in London to escape Wonderland, did that mean that Wonderland wasn't real? Was she in fact dreaming? Did she want this entire world to only be in her own mind? After all, if all of this was only a dream, it meant that she hadn't truly found her family… Was she willing to trade the fact that she'd found her athair in order to secure her own safety?
Witzend had tried to reassure her, tried to tell her that everything would turn out alright, but Regina couldn't believe her. How could everything be alright, when she was risking either ceasing to exist, or waking up to discover that the past few days were only a dream? Finally, Witzend had contented herself with curling up in her mistress' lap, keeping her beloved lady company while Regina stared out into the night.
Mirana had told Regina to sleep, but how could Regina obey? Assuming that she wasn't dreaming, she was supposed to ride out into battle tomorrow, the fate of all of Underland resting on her shoulders. How could she sleep when she knew the battle was so stacked against her? Stayne was the better swordsman, the stronger warrior, and he was an insane megalomaniac. How in the name of all the Days in Underland could she hope to defeat him?
But how could she fail? If Regina didn't succeed, she couldn't save her parents from their Madnesses, couldn't finish what Alice had begun in saving Underland. Somehow, Regina was expected to do the impossible and live to tell about it.
With all of that on her mind, there was no way she could hope to sleep.
Regina had never had much quarrel with Time before. In the Above, Time behaved himself, or at least he was tightly bound and forced to move in even, regular ways. Down here, Time had free reign to move as he wished. In this past night, Regina had finally understood her da's enduring grudge against Time. Time had behaved himself most unforgivably; Regina had sworn that at one point the tricksy bugger had even been moving backwards. Time had played games with the youngest Hightopp, dragging on and on until Regina swore she was going just as Mad as her famous father. She'd even threatened to kill Time once or twice, and she thought she heard something or someone laughing in response.
Finally, though, the endless night was over. Dawn came, and Regina had never been so happy to see the sun- even if the dawn was violent and bloody and looked threatening instead of comforting. If it was dawn, maybe that meant she wasn't dreaming- could one go on dreaming through the morning? Although, she'd seen sunset and sunrise here already… Regina shook her head, sighing. Just for now, she had to behave as though Underland was real, and that none of this was a dream. That was what she wanted, after all; she wanted her dream world to be reality.
The second the sun rose, Regina stood from her chair, stretching out muscles that had long since gone numb. Wincing through the pins and needles that tortured her extremities, she walked inside and moved for her armor. For a moment she merely looked at it, conflicted; the armor suit had been crafted in conscious imitation of Alice's Champion armor. Really, it was bad enough to be the woman's daughter; Regina didn't particularly want to invoke comparisons between herself and Champion Alice. Still, she needed the armor, so she reluctantly called for Clover and Azalea. Between the three of them they had Regina dressed in short order.
"Clover, I want you to go to the Azure Princess' nursery," Regina ordered. "Bring me her Hightopp Hat."
Regina turned back to the mirror, busying herself with pulling her unruly curls into a severe bun so her hair wouldn't get into her eyes. With her hair back and her armor on, she scarcely recognized herself; where was Jane Ascot? What had happened to her, and who was this stranger in the looking glass? Was this who she was supposed to be now? Was this the intended image of the Azure Princess- a warrior, a Champion like her parents before her?
"Come along, Mistress," Witzend purred, batting at Regina's armor-clad shin. "It's time."
Regina gulped; funny how that sounded like an execution sentence.
The White Castle was empty as Regina walked through the halls; not even a stray Rabbit page was to be seen. The reason for the desertion became evident when Regina walked out into the courtyard; the entire Court appeared to have turned out to see the army off. She stood at the top of the stairs for a moment, observing the spectacle. A twin shoot of terror and adrenaline rushed through her veins; though Kalen was the King and the Ace of Diamonds, this expedition was technically being led by her.
Regina's arrival hadn't gone unnoticed. Moving as if on cue, the courtiers stepped back, creating a pathway that led straight to the front of the procession. Drawing a deep breath, Regina lifted her head. Improbably, it was Lady Ascot's voice she heard in her ear as she descended the stairs.
Straight back, head high… act as though you are in complete control of the room until the dissemination becomes verity. Behave as a princess and that is exactly how you will be treated.
Regina's acting was apparently convincing; whispers of "Underland aid you," and "Good luck, Champion" followed in her wake as she walked through the lines of courtiers and chess pieces. Finally, she approached the White Royals themselves. Kalen, decked out in armor even more intricately decorated than her own, sat astride a white Pegasus. Beside him was Mirana, seated on her beautiful white Stallion, her crown sitting proudly atop her head.
"Good morning, my dear," she smiled.
Regina smiled back nervously; she was rather debating if this morning counted as good or not. After all, Alice had vanished, Tarrant was captured, and she was about to face off against a Mad man…
"Bring the Champion's mount!" Mirana ordered.
The crowd shuffled apart, and a young Pawn walked forward, leading a large, sleek white Panther. Regina gasped, taking an involuntary step towards the beautiful, magnificent creature.
"Her name is Sora," Mirana informed her, her voice pitched low so only the two of them could hear. "Panthers are quite populous in southern Witzend. Lily has raised this one from the time she was a Cub, in anticipation of your arrival."
Regina smiled faintly, touched by Lily's display of faith in her. This gesture galvanized her into action; clearly, Lily believed that Regina could behave as a Champion, and Regina had to repay that trust, at least. Striding forward, she swung herself onto the saddle, trying to get used to the difference from a horse saddle. Unlike a high, contoured horse saddle that sat in the middle of the animal's back, this saddle was small and flat, designed to fit between the Panther's shoulder blades. And it looked as though Regina would be riding astride; well, that was different…
"Um, hello," Regina said to her new mount. "I hope I'm not too uncomfortable for you. I've never ridden a Panther before. Or even astride, for that matter."
"I can tell," Sora replied. "Grip with your knees, and focus on your balance. Let me handle the rest."
Regina nodded, more than happy with that arrangement. She glanced up at Mirana and nodded slightly; she was as ready for this as she would ever be. Regina glanced back over her shoulder as a hand was laid on her back; Clover curtseyed and presented her with her Hat.
"Thank you, Clover," Regina nodded.
Carefully, she took the Hat and placed it on her lap. Hopefully, the Hat would be safely cradled within the curve of her body as they rode. She glanced up at Mirana and nodded faintly; she was as ready as she would ever be. Mirana nodded back, then signaled to McTwisp, who bleated a note on his trumpet- the signal for the White army to march on to battle.
Regina swallowed hard as her fingers tightened around Sora's reins. "Hold on, Da," she whispered. "I'm coming."
There were, Witzend decided, a few very distinct disadvantages to being a Cat.
Opposable thumbs, for one. The inability to effectively clean behind one's ears. And being left behind while one's Mistress was taken off to meet her Destiny on a battlefield.
Witzend grumbled to herself as she paced back and forth across the marble floor of Regina's reception chamber. She didn't appreciate having been left behind. After all, Regina wasn't the only one who had a stake in the future of Underland; if Regina failed in her mission, what would Witzend do? She was Regina's guardian; Underland would be most seriously displeased if Witzend failed in her mission to protect the young Princess.
And besides that, what would Witzend herself do if her beloved little Mistress were to die? The Cheshire Cat had warned her against forming attachments to the humans, particularly those whom Underland had marked for greatness. It was dangerous to feel protective of them, she knew; if one loved one's chess pieces, one was more reluctant to move them the way they needed to be in order to win the game. Yet, how could she do anything differently? Regina had saved Witzend from being drowned as a newborn Kitten; she had raised Witzend herself. Witzend had slept every night curled against Regina's side; she had accompanied Regina over hill and through dale and listened to hundreds of stories. How could she not love her little Mistress?
Moreover, as a Guardian, she was concerned. What if something went wrong, and Fate or Destiny was twisted? Suppose Stayne wasn't the one to step forward to fight; suppose it was the Carpenter? What if the Carpenter ended up killing Regina? The whole of Underland's future would be unraveled in an instant. What if Alice attempted to interfere? What if Tarrant were killed by a spiteful Stayne? There was so much that could go wrong… so much they stood to lose…
"If you keep on worrying like that, you'll end up no better than a Dog."
Witzend glanced up, not really surprised to find the Cheshire Cat hanging in midair, his perennial grin on his face as he lazily observed her agitated pacing.
"How are you not worried?" she retorted. "They could ruin it all."
"Humans are rather prone to do so," Cheshire shrugged. "They always muddle through and arrive at the proper location, in any case."
Witzend shook her head. "What if he kills her?"
"Still worried about her, I see," Cheshire drawled. "You should trust Underland to protect the ones she's Chosen… and that includes the Carpenter, you know."
Witzend shook her head. "I don't trust him," she stated.
"That's probably wise," Cheshire stated, surprising Witzend. "Those who hold the balance of the future in their hands should always be regarded warily."
Witzend glanced up at her grandsire, an idea blossoming in her head. "Shouldn't we be there? To keep an eye on things?"
"We should," Cheshire acknowledged. "But if you don't mind, I would prefer to take a Guardian of Underland who's been tasked with the protection of the next Queen, not a silly Kitten worried about a little girl."
With a bit of an internal struggle, Witzend managed to sit up straight and not roll her eyes. Let her grandsire say what he would; as long as he taught her how to get to the battlefield.
"You know, of course, the theories of transmogrified transport," Cheshire began.
"My mother explained them, yes," Witzend replied. "She warned that I might find it difficult, since I'm only one-fourth Wonderlandian."
"It's enough," Cheshire said dismissively. "You already know how. I imagine it worked to different effect in the Aboveground- it only let you slip away unnoticed- but it's the same principle down here. You just move farther and faster, that's all."
Witzend blinked; could it really be so simple? Might as well find out… Stilling herself, she thought very hard about where she wanted to be. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the air beside her begin to shimmer. The slightest shift to the side, towards the rippling veil…
And Witzend found herself now sitting among the ruins on the Checkerboard, looking down on the battlefield as the two armies approached. She leapt into the air, a pleased grin stretching her face; she'd done it!
Moments later, the Cheshire Cat appeared beside her with a wisp of purple smoke. "That was very quick," he said thoughtfully, eyeing her. "I believe after this business is settled we'll have to begin your training in earnest, before you get it into your head to try to save Underland all on your own, without the pawns."
"I suppose we will," Witzend, grinned, well pleased.
Cheshire said nothing; he merely observed his descendant. She had already developed the Cheshire grin, and she was clearly already thinking ceaselessly of the infinite game pieces she would have to move and shift to protect the future… She would make a fitting Guardian, he decided.
"Mind you, we're only here to watch," he cautioned her. "We never get involved in politics."
Witzend scoffed. "Of course not. We're kingdom-builders, not state-runners."
"Very good," the Cat nodded in approval. "So don't get it into your head to claw the Carpenter's eyes out. He needs them to see his Destiny too, you know."
"Should he see it, if he doesn't understand it?" Witzend asked suddenly, her voice thoughtful and curious.
Cheshire tilted his head, considering. "They never understand, at the time," he finally said. "But if he doesn't see, how can he ever bring his Destiny to pass?"
Witzend hummed thoughtfully, turning her gaze back to the battlefield. She supposed it was worthless to contemplate this right now; before Destiny could come, the battle must be fought.
Time was up to his dishonest tricks again; it took no time at all for the White army to reach the Chessboard. Regina looked around, a chill rushing up her spine. Here was the historic field where Alice had defeated the Jabberwocky; this was the place when her parents had become legend. The bones of the creature could still be seen, rotting away beneath the ruins of a castle built on a rocky promontory. Regina viewed the corpse with mixed comfort and fear. After all, if Alice had been able to slay a Jabberwock, surely Regina could handle one man? But at the same time, what if she wasn't like her mother? What if she wasn't strong enough to finish what Alice had begun? Had Alice saved Underland only for her daughter to destroy it?
A moment later, all of Regina's attention was arrested by the arrival of the Knave and his forces. If the arrival of the White army was a beautiful pageant of honor and order, the coming of the Red was a barely organized mob of rabble and cutthroats, with a heartless dictator at their front. Regina couldn't claim to be inspired, except perhaps to fury with a side of terror, but she had to admit that it was an impressive force.
Almost immediately, Regina's gaze zeroed in on the prisoners who stumbled along beside one of the warriors' horses. Mally sat defiant on the pommel of the saddle, seemingly uninjured but very much annoyed by the miniature manacle that encircled her neck. Thackery too seemed unhurt, though his appearance was always so shabby that it was hard to tell. Tarrant, however, looked utterly wretched; there didn't appear to be an inch of him that wasn't bloodied or bruised. She could just catch a glimpse of her father's eyes, unfocused and topaz. Whether he had been driven to the Madness or if he had embraced it himself, she didn't know, but it was clear that Tarrant wasn't truly present on the battlefield. Regina glared at the army, feeling the buzzing begin behind her eyes; whoever had done this to her da would answer to her.
She stared at Ilosovic Stayne, the Knave who dared to call himself King; the man she would have to kill, or be killed by. One look at his cold, arrogant face filled her with fear, and with loathing and anger. She was well-versed in the atrocities Stayne had committed, both on his own and in the name of the Queen of Hearts. This man could never be allowed to sit upon a throne in Underland, and she was the one who had to stop him.
She fought to remain still as the Knave dismounted his black stallion and strode forwards. Mirana, her face set in determination, gracefully slid off her mount and glided forwards to meet him.
"Hello Ilosovic," Mirana said, her greeting devoid of any welcome.
"Mirana," Stayne smirked. "Come to surrender?"
"We don't have to fight," she stated, refusing to give him an inch, either physically or metaphorically. "I will give you one chance. Renounce your rebel throne and lay down your arms at once, and I will allow you to return to the Outlands in peace."
"Never," Stayne said. "The throne of Crims is mine by right of marriage, and I will take what is mine. I will kill whoever stands in my way."
"Very well then," Mirana said. "Since you refuse to stand down, we will do battle this day."
"Let us battle, then!" Stayne exclaimed. "Let us be done with this business. I stand ready. Where is your Champion, Mirana?"
"Here," came the announcement, in a loud, clear, triumphant voice.
Heads whipped around, and there were gasps and startled cries of astonishment as everyone recognized the figure that appeared as if from nowhere, wreathed in sunlight. The woman who stood there garbed in her famous armor and clutching a sword was not the silent, shadowy ghost of a Black Queen; this was a warrior of fire and light. This was Absolutely Alice of Legend, Champion of Underland. She was magnificent, and at the sight of her mother, Regina lost her breath. So this was the woman who had given her life, the woman she had been searching for as long as she could remember. Despite her anger at and dislike of her mother, she had to admit that Alice was stunning, overwhelming, brilliant.
Alice walked forward, utter confidence and self-possession in her every movement. Her head was held as high as any monarch's, her face set in defiance and challenge.
"Hello, Stayne," she said, and even her voice was different- not the hoarse, quiet fury of the Black Queen, but a confident voice full of challenge for the world.
A sick smile contorted Stayne's face. "Alice," he nearly purred. "I had heard you'd gone Mad after you lost your daughter."
Alice smiled darkly. "And you more than anyone, Stayne, know how dangerous it is to be on the wrong side of a Mad Queen's temper."
"Do you stand as Champion for Mirana once more?" Stayne asked, a note of formality in his voice.
"I do," Alice affirmed.
Just as Stayne reached for his sword, the ground underfoot began to rumble and shake. It was a gentle tremor at first, but it quickly grew and strengthened until the land rippled in waves, as if threatening to tear itself apart. The Horses and other Animals shied and whinnied in alarm; the Pawns and mercenary army were no calmer.
Regina stumbled, clinging to Sora's saddle to keep herself upright. Astonished, she watched as Alice lost her footing, and fell backwards, hitting her head on a rock that thrust out of the ground from nowhere. Once she hit the ground, unconscious, the earthquake ceased, and all was quiet. Regina stared at Alice's body in shock; what had just happened?
Stayne looked up at Mirana, a gleeful smile on his face. "It appears that Underland has rejected your Champion, Mirana."
Regina drew a deep breath. "Alice was never meant to be Mirana's Champion for this battle."
Stayne slowly turned his head, observing her coolly. Swallowing hard, Regina pushed away from her Panther, forcing herself to walk forward to meet his gaze. The battlefield went very quiet, and Regina could feel the eyes of every warrior zeroing in on her. She quaked under the attention; she had spent all her life being a nobody, shunted back into the shadows behind her cousin Mary. No more; she was the center of attention now, the star of the hour, and she might as well act like it. She prayed that none of her fear showed on her face as she walked forward to meet the challenge.
"I am the Champion," she announced.
Stayne stared at her for a second, before laughing. The laugh began to spread to his soldiers, until the entire army was laughing at her. Regina glanced at them all, fighting not to shrivel beneath their jeering. Like it or not, she was the Champion, and she would have to act as such. So she pulled out one of the cutlasses strapped around her waist, one corner of her mouth quirking in a tiny grin; well, that shut them up.
Quickly, she refocused on Stayne. "I demand that you let the Hatter go. The Dormouse and the Hare, as well."
"Take them," Stayne shrugged, surprising her. "He's of no further use to me. Though I doubt he'll be any more useful to you; we broke his mind, and he still wouldn't give us what I wanted," he grumbled.
Regina gritted her teeth, swallowing her anger with some difficulty. She couldn't kill Stayne, not yet; first she had to retrieve her father. She motioned to two Pawns, silently instructing them to pick up Alice's inert form and to carry her away, as she sheathed her sword and walked forward slowly.
She kept her eyes on her athair; he hadn't yet looked up from the ground. He'd given no reaction to Alice or the earthquake; he didn't seem to be paying attention to anything whatsoever. Her heart began to crack and bleed at the sight of him; had he retreated so far within the Madness that he was lost to her? She'd waited so long to find her athair… was this as close as she was going to get?
Apparently, it was; Regina's progress was halted by a hand on her arm. She glanced up, following the hand up an incredibly muscular arm, towards a face. One of Stayne's mercenaries, to be sure, but he was absurdly handsome; strong, strangely noble features and amazingly blue eyes, piercing in their intensity. He seemed more knight errant than cold-blooded mercenary; a creature straight out of Regina's fairy tales. In another tale, he might have been a Prince Charming. His gaze trapped her, holding her prisoner even more surely than his restraining hand on her shoulder.
"You should leave him," the young man stated, and Regina blinked in surprise to hear that his voice was marked with the same Marmoreal accent as Mirana and Lily. "He's mad as a box of frogs."
"That's a family trait, I'm afraid," Regina forced her surprise back far enough to reply.
For a moment, he didn't say anything; he merely looked at her, and Regina got the very strong impression that she was being judged. She lifted her chin, setting her jaw and forcing herself to meet his gaze, a move that he seemed to approve of. She had no idea what he was finding in her, but she was strangely compelled by him. His face was cold and hard, the mask of a consummate soldier, but he also looked noble and proud, wreathed with a kind of honor. Who was this man, she wondered. How had he come to join Stayne's fight? How could a man who held himself with such discipline join a man like Stayne?
Whatever he found in her face, it seemed to make up his mind about her, and he released her.
"I'll just paint some flowers for your funeral, shall I?" he asked, a sardonic smirk crossing his face.
She figured he was trying to irritate her. Instead, she was only amused; his comment reminded her of one of her mother's adventures, painting the roses red for the Queen of Hearts. She turned a sunny grin on the soldier.
"I'm partial to blue lilies," she informed him.
So saying, she walked away from him, approaching Tarrant. As she drew closer to him, all the lighthearted levity she had felt while bantering with the young soldier leaching away. She stopped only when she could reach out and place her hands on Tarrant's shoulders. Her heart clenched as he shifted away from her, shoulders tensing instinctually. Oh, this wasn't good…
"Athair?" she whispered, hoping to reach him through his Madness. "Da? Da, it's Regina. It's me, I'm home."
She hardly dared to breathe as Tarrant slowly lifted his head. For a moment he stared at her blankly, his eyes clouded over and completely colorless. Regina drew a shaky breath; she couldn't lose him now. She'd promised to come for him; time to bring him to safety.
"Da, it's Regina," she whispered, taking another half-step forward. "We have to go. It's time to go home."
"Regina?" Tarrant breathed.
For a moment, his eyes cleared, and Regina dared to hope that he might be alright after all. But almost immediately, his face clouded over again, and he glared at her.
"Yoo're nae real," he growled. "Yoo're jist anither illusion. Alice is dreamin' again. Dreamin' instead ay comin' fur tea… Wee little boy's late fur tea again, an' we're aw at sixes an' sevens…"
Regina blinked back tears. She couldn't worry about this right now; clearly, she wouldn't be restoring her father's sanity any time soon. She had other fish to fry first; she did have that battle with Stayne to get through, after all. Drawing a deep breath, she turned, seeking out the tall soldier again.
"Unchain them," she commanded.
He stepped forward silently and did as she said, giving her a dubious look as the chains were removed. From the wary stances and wide berth the soldiers were giving Tarrant, Regina guessed that her da had been a difficult prisoner, and she smirked. They should've known better than to antagonize him… Shaking her head quickly, Regina stepped forward, drawing Tarrant's arm around her shoulders to support the swaying Hatter with her own frame.
"Come on, Da," she whispered. "Slowly, now. Come on, Thackery, Mally."
"Right behind you," Mally said, hopping onto Regina's shoulder, then running down her arm to perch on the Hare's head.
She walked as quickly as Tarrant was able, not trusting Stayne not to attack her while she had her hands full. However, they were left unmolested as they limped across the field, back to Mirana's camp. As soon as they reached the White side of the board, two Pawns hurried forward to relieve Regina of her burden and to usher Tarrant to the healer's tent. Predictably, Mally remained on the battlefield; surprisingly, Thackery stayed as well, tugging on his ears and muttering something about a ladle. Hands freed, Regina returned to Mirana's side, trying to fit the image of a Champion.
"Now that you have your precious Hatter back, suppose we return to the business at hand?" Stayne asked.
Regina nodded. "I believe it was your late wife who said, 'sentence first, verdict afterwards'?"
She couldn't restrain a bit of a smirk as Stayne winced at the memory of the Red Queen. So he still feared the Queen of Hearts? Excellent. She was more than happy to exploit that weakness.
"Off with your head," she said grimly.
"And my verdict?" Stayne asked arrogantly, clearly straining to regain his bravado.
"You have made yourself an enemy of the Five Kingdoms of Underland," Regina replied. "You are charged with murder and attempted murder, conspiracy, kidnapping, torture, and attempted invasion. You are found guilty on all counts."
"And on whose authority do you presume to challenge me, little Champion?" Stayne sneered.
Regina drew a deep breath; it was Time.
"On that of the Azure Princess," she announced.
That, at least, got Stayne to stop sneering. Instead, he now looked at her in amazement and disbelief, as in fact nearly everyone on the battlefield was doing. Regina supposed she couldn't blame them for their incredulity; she was, after all, presuming to speak on behalf of a princess who hadn't been heard of since her disappearance as an infant. It was probably time to change that…
Regina turned back to her Panther, retrieving her Hat from Sora's saddle. With a theatrical flourish worthy of the Hatter, she perched it atop her head. Funny, she could swear that for a moment she felt a warmth envelope her, as though she were being hugged.
"I am Regina Miraget Hightopp, daughter of Alice Kingsleigh, Champion of Underland, Slayer of the Jabberwocky, Keeper of the Vorpal Sword, and of Tarrant Hightopp, Royal Hatter of Underland, Laird of the Hightopp clan, and Champion of the Blue Queen," she stated, pitching her voice so it carried across the entire battlefield. "I am the Azure Princess of Witzend, daughter of the Blue Queen and the Sapphire King. I am the Champion of Underland, and I challenge you to combat for the fate of the land."
For a moment after Regina's speech, there was utter silence. The air became thick, choked with tension and anticipation; everyone watched silently, waiting for Stayne's next move. Slowly, Stayne gripped his sword and withdrew it from its scabbard; the metallic hiss cracked through the silence like the snap of a whip.
"Come then, little Champion, and meet your Destiny," he said coldly.
She watched as Stayne stepped forward, fighting to keep herself still and her chin confidently up. Unfortunately, she knew that Stayne had once underestimated her mother, to his detriment; he was unlikely to extend Regina the same courtesy. She would have to fight on anyways. This man was the reason her entire clan had been wiped out, she reminded herself; this man had been the cause of all her da's sorrows, had tried to seduce and then kill her mother. This same man now tried to threaten her homeland, to kill her entire family. The only one standing between him and conquest was her. Today, then, she would defend her home; today she would avenge her parents and her murdered clan. Today, she would make her da proud.
Kalen had told her to make Stayne swing and miss, to force him to tire himself out. She began to do just that, feinting in and ducking away in the nick of time, goading Stayne and making him swing out of anger. She figured she didn't have much time before Stayne tired of the cat-and-mouse game; she would have to end this quickly.
"Six Impossible Things, Regina," she muttered to herself. "One, Wonderland is real."
She dove out of the way as Stayne swung at her, curling into a summersault before rising again.
"Two. Cards and chess pieces can be soldiers."
She blocked a powerful swing of Stayne's sword, feeling the blow reverberate through her entire arm as she batted his sword away and backed off. Fates, every time she blocked his sword the breath was forced clean out of her!
"Three. My father is the Mad Hatter. Four. And my mother is the Champion of Underland."
Stayne managed to hook a foot behind her leg, knocking her down. She rolled quickly, just before his sword came down, the blade hitting where her neck would have been. He stumbled all of a sudden, grabbing the back of his head as a rock fell to the ground; Regina's eyes flitted over to the spectators, just in time to see Tarrant's arm lowering. Now how had he gotten out of the healers' tent…?
"The Hatter is interfering! To battle!" Stayne screamed.
Cursing beneath his breath, Kalen wrapped an arm around Mirana's waist, roughly pushing his wife back as all hell broke loose.
"Get to the tents," he tersely commanded her, before leading his soldiers in a charge across the Chessboard.
Mirana scuttled backwards in a rather undignified manner, her dark eyes anxiously following her husband's tall figure as he ran out to battle. When she lost sight of him, she dashed for her Gelding, swinging herself up onto the saddle, where she could observe the battle clearly. She felt the slightest pressure on her shoulder, and glanced down to see Absolem perched on her sleeve.
"Absolem?" she asked curiously. "What are you doing here?"
The Butterfly glanced up at Mirana, blinking before speaking, his voice oddly distant, as if he were in a trance. "This is a day to rejoice and to fear; the Carpenter will meet the Butterfly here. One with a level, one with a sway, they'll meet and change all the world on this day. They destroy, they rebuild, they revive and they kill. Underland changes by the force of their will. Through darkest of nights they will craft a new light and bring us our future, be it fearful or bright. A strange pair they make, the Fool and the Sun, and all will begin when the battle is done."
That being said, Absolem spread his delicate wings and took off, flitting above the battlefield for a few moments before going on his way. Mirana stared after him, perplexed; once again, he had delivered a cryptic message about an important meeting. Once again, Mirana found herself at a loss to explain what he had meant.
Oblivious to Absolem's prophecy, Regina and Stayne circled each other on the battlefield, locked in their desperate struggle. She only just had time to dive between his over-long legs as he swung his sword down.
"Five. I am the Azure Princess of Witzend," she whispered.
She scrambled backwards, trying to put enough distance between Stayne and herself that she could get back on her feet. But her back hit something solid- the base of the hill on which the castle ruins rested. She dove sideways as Stayne's blade hit, throwing off sparks. She lunged to her feet, gripping her swords.
"Six. I can kill the Knave," she told herself.
She saw her chance then. He had lifted his sword too far overhead, causing his center of balance to be off. She rushed towards him, dropping one sword to grab his wrist as she shoved her sword through his neck.
"Off with your head," she repeated.
She didn't think she'd had the strength within her to decapitate him, but her sword was apparently incredibly sharp- either that, or it was exceptionally vengeful. Stayne's head bounced once, twice, before rolling to a stop, his face still elongated in shock. The body fell to its knees before toppling, laying still on the Chessboard while his black blood pooled beneath him.
Regina stared down at his corpse, stunned. She had done it; she had killed him. He had finally been brought to justice; the murdered Hightopps and all the other people who had suffered beneath the Knave's sway had finally been avenged.
Oh good heavens, she had killed him.
She stumbled backwards, dropping her sword, jumping as it clattered on the ground. She swallowed hard, unable to rip her eyes away from the ever-expanding pool of blood; she knew it was necessary, that Stayne would have stopped at nothing… But she had still killed him. He had had a life, and she had taken it; she had murdered him in cold blood.
A hand on her shoulder made her jump again, and she whipped around to behold Mirana standing beside her, her expressive face conveying pride and comfort.
"All hail the Queen of Crims," she announced.
Regina blinked, hearing Mirana's words but not understanding them. "Wh-What?"
"Stayne was married to Iracebeth," Mirana replied. "When she died, the crown passed to him. Now that you have killed him, the crown is yours by right."
"Oh… I…" Regina shook her head, stunned. "I…"
She shook her head, intimidated. She hadn't wanted this; hadn't been expecting it at all. She had merely been acting as Champion; she hadn't known it would come with a crown! Fates, she wasn't even used to the fact that she was a Princess yet; did she really have to be a Queen on top of it?
Mirana squeezed Regina's shoulder and offered her a smile, before stepping away and turning to face the rebel army. Swords began falling, and the soldiers and mercenaries dropped to their knees, bending their heads to receive the judgment of the White Queen. The White army retreated as Mirana approached, her face stern.
"Though I am the High Queen of Underland, your fate is not for me to decide," she said. "You answered to the Red King, and thus it is for the new Queen to sentence you."
Turning, Mirana extended a hand, drawing Regina forwards. For one endless moment, Regina panicked; Lord, what was she doing here? She was no Princess; she wasn't a Queen. She had no authority over this army; who in their right minds could possibly think she did? She was a nobody, an unskilled, untrained girl; why was she being called upon to dispense justice and make decisions for a land she hadn't even known was real until three days ago?
Well, first things first, she thought faintly. She was the Champion of Underland, or at least she had been until the moment she became a Queen. She had to secure Underland's safety before anything else.
"For those whom this battle marks the second rebellion against Queen Mirana, no mercy will be shown," she said, her voice only a little shaky. "You will be executed on this battlefield for your double treachery against Underland. For those whom this makes a first offense, your fates will be decided separately."
At Regina's words, an invisible force seemed to separate the army. Certain soldiers- rusty, creaking Red Cards and Knights, some humans- were pushed forwards, while others were drawn back. The White soldiers stepped forwards, surrounding the first group and preparing to execute Regina's sentence. She walked away, turning her back on them and putting her focus on the rest. Surprisingly, chief among them seemed to be the young soldier and his band of warriors. From the way they angled themselves around him, she surmised that he must be their leader. She couldn't say she was surprised; he had alpha male written all over him.
"Who are you?" she asked.
"The Hassasseen," he replied, folding his arms. "Our people were outlawed from Underland centuries ago."
"Does… Did Stayne rule over you?" Regina asked.
"Never," he said, eyes flashing. "We were allies, but never subservient to him."
"Why?" she asked. "What did he promise you?"
He glanced to his right, exchanging a look with a slender, swarthy man with black curls and dark eyes. What their nonverbal conversation was, Regina couldn't guess, but they seemed to come to an accord, because the young leader turned back to Regina.
"Land," he answered. "A home for us and our people."
Regina glanced behind her, to Mirana. The High Queen was watching this interview, but made no move to interfere. Was Regina free to do as she wished with these Hassasseen, then?
"And if I offered you the same?" she asked, slowly.
She glanced up at the young commander. His blue eyes had narrowed, his suspicions clear.
"I find myself in sudden possession of a kingdom," she said, quickly thinking through her offer. "I need farmers, merchants, soldiers. If I grant your people amnesty, will you move into Crims and help me rebuild?"
The commander glanced to the man on his right again, who raised a single eyebrow in answer. The commander nodded, and glanced to his other men. As one, they lowered themselves, each on one knee, and held up their swords in tribute.
"We will answer to Queen Regina," they answered.
Regina nodded, looking at the commander again. "What is your name?"
"Dafydd, my lady," he replied.
"You are the Hassasseen's leader?" she confirmed.
"I am," he nodded.
"Will you serve as my Ace of Hearts?" she asked. "Will you build my army?"
"I'll serve as my Queen commands me," he answered.
"So be it," she said, before turning to Mirana. "Queen Mirana," she said formally, awkwardly wondering if this was the right way to go about things, "these men have pledged their clan to me. I ask you to release them from their exile, so I might welcome them to my kingdom."
"I do so grant these men and their families citizenship," Mirana answered. "A party of my own men will travel into the Outlands to gather them and bring them to Crims, as soon as you've been formally crowned."
Nodding, Regina stepped away from the Hassasseen, who clustered together and began talking amongst themselves.
As soon as the Princess had walked away, Ioan turned to face Dafydd.
"What do you think you're doing?" he hissed. "Why are we chaining ourselves to the Hightopp's whelp? She's standing between us and Tearmunn, Dafydd!"
"Think, Ioan," Dafydd replied, keeping his voice low and tightly controlled. "She's his daughter. She can come and go from Tearmunn as she pleases. We stay close to her, we work our way into her trust and his… that'll get us to Tearmunn. When the time's right, we take it for ourselves and get rid of them." Dafydd nodded as Ioan's face cleared in understanding. "Just be patient, Ioan," he counseled, his voice low. "We'll be home soon enough."
As Regina walked away from the Hassasseen, the first thing that caught her gaze was the Healers' pavilion. Biting her lip with apprehension, she strode over to the large white tent, hesitating momentarily on the doorstep before rallying her courage and walking inside.
She blinked, bemused by the sight. Who had set up these rows upon rows of cots, and when? Even worse, when had people begun to fill them? Regina felt her heart sinking into the pit of her stomach as she looked around. These brave men had come to the battlefield to fight for her, for her parents and for Underland, and now they were suffering for it. Worse than that, even after they'd sacrificed and risked so much, the task was only half complete; Underland was now safe from the Knave, but Witzend was still in a shambles. How could she face the soldiers, when she hadn't yet made their sacrifice mean something?
Spotting her aunt further towards the back of the tent, Regina drew a deep breath and walked back towards her. The White Queen had removed her crown, tied an apron over her voluminous skirts, and braided her hair off her face. She stood over the cot of a wounded Rook, calmly mixing a potion together and talking to him in a low, soothing tone.
"Are you alright, my dear?" Mirana asked caringly, looking over Regina searchingly.
Regina shrugged. "I suppose so. I'm not injured, at any rate."
"Are you certain?" Mirana asked. "You fell rather hard a time or two."
Regina shook her head. "It's nothing, compared to some of the others. Just a few bruises." She bit her lip. "Were there very many casualties?" she asked in a small voice.
"Not so very many," Mirana said, though a shadow passed through her eyes. "Though of course, every death is much mourned."
Regina looked down at the cot, worrying a frayed thread between her fingers. After a moment of silence, Mirana sat on the cot, supporting the Rook's head in one hand and gently pouring the potion over his featureless, cracked face.
"Your mother is here," Mirana said neutrally, glancing up at Regina. "In her own room. Your father is with her."
Regina nodded slowly. "Is she awake?"
"Not yet," Mirana shook her head. "She took quite a hit to her crown."
Regina nodded again, lips quirking at the pun, then reluctantly stood. She figured she probably had to get this over with sooner or later… Steeling herself, she headed back to the partitioned corner Mirana had directed her to. When she got to the doorway, she paused for a moment, observing.
Alice was indeed still unconscious. Someone had stripped her of her Champion's armor, and it had been neatly placed onto its stand in the corner. She lay prostrate on the cot, a large strip of bandage wrapped around her head. Regina wondered absently how badly Alice had hit her head; when she woke up, would she once again believe that Wonderland was a dream?
It was Tarrant who held Regina's attention, though. He sat utterly and absolutely still by Alice's side. He didn't move to take her hand or to tend to her head wound; Regina wondered if he even truly knew where he was. The stillness was unnerving to Regina; for as long as she had read about him- and the few precious hours she'd spent with him- Tarrant had never been still. He had constantly fidgeted and fluttered about, in a constant storm of motion. Idly, she wondered if he was holding himself so still because he was injured. That he had endured torture while at Salazen Grum was obvious from the bruises and cuts that disfigured his face; it really didn't take much Imagination to think that he was hiding more bruises beneath his waistcoat and trousers.
"Da?" she asked cautiously.
She bit her lip as Tarrant's shoulders tensed. Oh dear; were they going to go through another round of him not believing that she was who she said she was?
"Gie out," he growled. "Lae us in peace."
"No," Regina said, stepping forward.
Before she'd taken more than three steps, she froze, the blade of Tarrant's claymore against her neck. She raised her hands in surrender, her heart hammering in her chest. She swallowed hard; she hadn't expected that Tarrant would actually attack her. As Mad as he was, she had never heard of him threatening anyone before. She tried to keep her expression calm as she looked up into her father's face, but her fear only deepened as she gazed into his sickly topaz eyes, ringed by black shadows. If he was this firmly ensconced in the Madness, was he beyond all reason?
"Yoo're a bluddy pretender," he snarled, menace lacing every word. "Mah dochter is jist Alice's dream, an' Alice isnae dreamin' reit noo. Sae ye cannae be haur. Leave noo our I'll kill ye."
"Would you kill me, Da?" Regina asked, not having to feign the tremor in her voice. "After I've fought so hard to come home?"
"LIAR!" Tarrant bellowed. "Yoo're nae mah Regina!"
Regina screamed as Tarrant reared back, ducking a moment before his blade swung. She scrambled backwards, wincing as her armor clashed and banged against her already battered body. She watched, frightened, as the heavy claymore's momentum caused Tarrant to lose his balance. He fell over, crashing to the floor in a heap. Frantic, Regina scrambled to her feet, wanting to help her father up but terrified he would attack her again.
For a moment, Tarrant lay on the floor, stunned. He groaned; Fates, he had felt that fall in every muscle and bone in his body! Then he blinked in confusion; wait, he had felt that. But… hadn't he surrendered to the Madness so he wouldn't have to feel?
Cautiously, he glanced around, confused when he didn't see the familiar, dark, dank walls of his dungeon cell. Instead, white cloth walls billowed gently, there was grass beneath him… he was in a tent? How had he gotten into a tent? And by the Butterfly, why did he hurt so much?
Groaning again, he sat up, monitoring his entire body to catalogue his injuries. He felt broken ribs, innumerable bruises, painful areas that must have been burned or lacerated… but nothing hurt so much as his head. It was always like this, after the Madness took him; his head felt as though an entire army had burst out from inside his skull, and then a doctor had rather inexpertly patched him back up. It was painful and draining, but Tarrant discounted that. A few cups of Tea and a long sleep and he'd be as fit as a butcher's dog…
Shaking his head slowly to clear it of the last of the blackness, he looked up to find a pale, nervous-looking young woman watching him, wariness written in every line of her body. He blinked, staring up at her. Sweet holy Spirit of Underland, how had he not noticed how very much she looked like Alice? The coloring was his, he granted; the young Not Truly An Uplander had his ginger curls and green eyes. But her expressions, her stance… she was all Alice's. How had he not realized who the girl who called herself Jane truly was earlier?
"Are you alright?" Regina asked, not quite able to hide the tension in her voice.
Tarrant felt his stomach clenching as he realized what emotion she was displaying- fear. She was afraid of him. She hadn't been afraid of him before; even when he had veered into multiple fits of Madness in one evening, she had handled that in stride. What had he done during his Madness to frighten her? He blinked down at his hand; why was he holding his claymore?
Wait…
A suspicion, a sudden, horrible Idea, began to grow in his mind. Was it possible that he… could he possibly have…? Surely he hadn't actually threatened her…?
"Re- Jane?" he whispered, fear coating his voice. "Did I… what just…?"
"Are you yourself again, Da?" she asked, her voice weak and soft.
"Yes, I-" He cut himself off, her words slowly sinking in. As he registered what she'd said, his eyes widened. "What did you just say?"
He stared at her, dumbfounded, as she swallowed hard. "I asked if you were yourself again. Da."
His jaw dropped slightly, his mind going blank. "You…"
"I know," she confirmed. "I know who I am."
He stood slowly, both in deference to his battered body and simply due to shock. For a long moment, they simply stood there, staring at each other across a short expanse that felt more like a canyon.
He had dreamt of this moment for eighteen years. Ever since the moment he'd learned that Regina had been taken from him, he had yearned for the moment when she would be restored to him. He had often dreamt of sweeping his wee little boy into his arms, crushing her to him and vowing to never, ever let her go again. He had prayed for the day when he would see the beautiful woman his baby had become.
But now the moment had arrived, and Tarrant found that he was at a complete loss. When faced with the reality of his daughter… what did he do? Should he embrace her? Should he apologize for having lost her? How did he become reacquainted with the stranger that was his daughter?
"Regina, I…" he said, faltering.
She looked up at him, and his voice caught in his throat. The fear was still there, and the wariness, but now it warred with a tenuous, fragile thread of hope. Whatever he had done to frighten her, Tarrant hoped that it wasn't so very bad; he prayed that he could watch the hope blossom in her beautiful eyes.
"I want to go home," she said hesitantly.
He felt himself Graying, his heart crumbling into ashes. Oh, the Fates were cruel; to have found his daughter at last, only to lose her once again? He should have been expecting it, he told himself. Regina hadn't been raised in Underland, after all; despite how much he loved her, there really wasn't anything to tie her here. But could he stand to watch her walk away?
"Of course," he said dully, staring down at the grass.
"Oh… if you don't want to go to Berserka, we don't have to," Regina said hurriedly, sounding worried. "We can stay in Marmoreal if you want… I just… I don't want to be on the Chessboard anymore."
Tarrant blinked, looking up, helpless against the wild hope that flared in his heart. "You… you want to stay in Underland?"
"Of course," Regina said, sounding surprised. "This is home, isn't it? This is where I was born, where you are. And… and Aunt Mirana said that I've just become the Queen of Crims. I can't very well learn how to rule if I'm not here, can I?"
"You want to stay," Tarrant repeated, feeling his heart stutter and skip.
"Yes," Regina said hesitantly. "That is… if you want me."
"If I want you?" Tarrant parroted, staring. "Of course I want you!"
Suddenly, the canyon was no more than a couple of feet. He rushed towards her, throwing his arms around her and holding her safe against his chest, tightening his grip when he felt her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. He closed his eyes against tears of his own as he held his precious child to him. She had done what Alice could never give; she had chosen to stay.
"Retiuni Day, at last," he whispered. "Welcome home, my little Princess."
Additional Notes: As I mentioned, I ended up completely rewriting this chapter. One of the things that changed was Dafydd and Regina's meeting. Because Dafydd insists on changing all of my plans. Originally, Dafydd was a lot more subservient and compliant; that's obviously changed. But I can't exactly complain, since I like this version of their interaction better.
As for the moment between Tarrant and Regina… yeah, that was another major deviation from the original chapter. I have no idea where this new idea came from; I cannot believe that Tarrant actually attacked Regina. But it was effective, right? It was really interesting to put Tarrant into that place; the movie proved that his Madness could be really dangerous [Queen's hat room, anyone?] and I think it was important to address the fact that Tarrant could be a danger to the ones he loves most.