Here we are again. Just in time for Alice to run off and do something stupid. Just a warning, my Queen being different is nothing against Kathy Bates. Personally, I think she wasn't used to her full potential with the writing. Hopefully, you guys will like my version. And thank you for all the great feedback. It's awesome to know you all are enjoying reading the story as much as I enjoy writing it.
PS: Can you believe I couldn't find one Hatter video on youtube set to Bonnie Tyler's Holding Out for a Hero? Travesty.
Alice lay in Charlie's brass bed and stared up at the ceiling of the "chamber". The fire still burned outside, casting dancing shadows on the wood above her. She could hear the old man snoring and murmuring softly in his sleep. The girl, on the other hand, could not sleep. Not that she wasn't still tired and tired and tired from the events of the day, because she was. She just could not allow herself to drift off. Not now. Now that she had a plan.
It wasn't the greatest plan, that was for sure. She was almost entirely certain that the Suits would be searching the woods where she and Hatter had been last spotted and beyond. She was also almost entirely certain she would be able to find her way. Okay, maybe not almost entirely, but reasonably optimistic. Yes, she had fallen asleep during the ride, but she knew they had been going in a general westerly direction. Or, she assumed it was west as they were heading towards the setting sun, but who knew which way that really was in Wonderland?
Birds had started to sing not long ago, their chirping breaking the relative stillness of the little glade. The sky was still black, but Alice knew that it was a sign that dawn was fast approaching. She had to make her move now, before either of the others awoke. Of course, she thought as she slid slowly out of bed, that was assuming both of them actually were asleep. She could hear the White Knight snoozing away, but Hatter had been silent as the grave ever since their argument by the pit. There was no doorway to the shack, just one open wall, and as Alice approached it, she could see Charlie in his hammock, strung between two trees on the opposite side of the clearing.
She looked around, trying to locate Hatter and jumped when she saw that he had bedded down right outside the barn. The open side of the building could be closed off with a gate and the man was leaning back against it, knees drawn up. His arm was wound between the criss-crossed framework, his head resting against the wood. The ubiquitous hat perched on one of his knees, leaving his tousled hair free to curl and stand up as it liked. He looked so peaceful in sleep. The soft light of the fire bathing his face washed out the stubble she knew was on his jaw and made him look so much younger and more vulnerable. It must have been this illusion of vulnerability playing on her nurturing instincts that made her go back into the barn and grab the pillow and blanket from the bed.
The girl carried them back to the sleeping man. She took his hat from his knee, setting it aside so she could spread the quilt over him. Carefully, she slid her hand between his head and the fence bar, momentarily marveling at how soft his hair was, how it curled around her fingers. Hatter stirred as she lifted his head, dark eyes looking up at her in bleary confusion.
"S'the matter?" he mumbled, barely forming the words.
"Just a pillow," she whispered. Like a child, he let her adjust him, sighing softly when she slipped the pillow between his skull and the hard, wooden gate. He went right back out again. He had to have been as tired as Alice herself, she realized, despite the seemingly endless stores of energy the man displayed. Her fingers itched not unpleasantly where his hair had touched her skin. She picked up his hat and looked it over. It didn't look too much worse for wear considering all it had been through. For some reason, it struck her amusing that the satiny lining inside matched the crimson of his shirt.
Hatter was definitely high on the list of the most interesting and confusing people she had ever met. Maybe as far as number two, as Charlie would probably never be displaced as number one after today. He presented himself - or, more accurately, misrepresented himself - as a selfish, greedy rake, all charm and mockery and sly wit. Behind the façade, to her surprise, was an altogether different man. Still charming and sly witted, he was actually quite passionate about helping others and, as evidenced by his actions towards herself, compassionate and caring as well. Selfless as he put aside his own well being, first in coming to her defense against Dodo and now, again, in insisting he must stay and try to fight. Dodo had been idealistic, ranting about reason and justice, but Hatter had only been concerned with the people, the refugees he risked so much to aide.
Alice realized then that she and Hatter were very alike in at least one regard. He was more than willing to put himself in harm's way for his people and she was willing to risk her life to save Jack. Looking down at the hat in her hands, the girl also realized something else. Jack's life did not outweigh the fate of an entire world, no matter how much she cared for him. Nor did her own life. She would not stop trying to save him, oh no. But she could not allow the ring to be reclaimed by the Queen of Hearts. She would leave it behind, someplace safe, someplace she knew it would eventually be found and make its way into the hands of the Resistance. She couldn't just leave it out in plain sight or else Hatter would immediately rush back to the city with it and get himself caught by the Suits still out looking for her.
Her over all plan did not change, however. She would still leave and leave now. Hatter had risked too much for her already and she could not imagine dragging poor Charlie into her mess as well. She did not belong in their world and they did not belong in her fight. Taking a deep breath, she slipped off the ring and turned towards the Red King, silent on his throne.
"This is our secret, your Majesty," she whispered.
Alice hugged herself, rubbing her hands against the goosebumps that had risen on her upper arms. She now wished she hadn't left the lush, velvet coat behind, but it had seemed like the thing to do at the time. Having taken so much from the man already, she couldn't in good conscience steal Hatter's coat as well. It was bad enough he would not be getting his boots back. She was not about to walk barefoot through the woods. The sky had lightened to a dull blue-gray and day would break soon enough, warming the air around her. The girl would just have to suck it up until then.
She was out of sight of the Kingdom of the Knights now, heading due east, she thought; would know for certain when the sun finally peeked from beyond the horizon. She wasn't sure if Hatter or Charlie would be able to pick up her trail and could only hope she had a good enough lead on them that it wouldn't matter. It was so chill in the early, early morning that she actually started to shiver. Stupid dress. Maybe she could risk sitting down for a couple minutes, just to rest and conserve her body heat until the sun rose. Picking a large tree with a little nook at the base, she hunkered down, curling up into herself to try and ease the shivering. Just closing her eyes for a second couldn't hurt anything, right? She wasn't going to fall asleep in that short a time.
A twig snapped close by and her eyes snapped open. Alice was no longer alone. Directly in front of her stood, actually sat, a creature that appeared vaguely feline. Long and thin, the creature's striped fur was sleek, but dull. Stick-like legs ended in large paws, muted at the moment, but she knew there must be sharp claws just waiting to slide out from the toes. Atop a skinny neck was a wide head, set with two enormous and shining emerald green eyes. It had to be at least four feet tall. A gold hoop glinted in one of its large, pointed ears. The cat's long whiskers twitched, but it made no move towards her, made no sound. Alice swallowed and just stared back at it, not knowing what she should do, what she could do if the creature decided to pounce. Strangely, she wasn't afraid.
Byzantium. The word popped into her head. That was the color of the cat's fur. She'd learned it years ago in art class, back when knowing obscure names for colors had earned her smiles from the teacher, Mr. Billings. His eyes, not Mr. Billing's, but the creature's (as it was definitely a male, by the way), widened almost imperceptibly, then narrowed. The corners of the feline's mouth began to rise, his lips -if a cat could have such things as lips - parted, revealing far too many sharp, pointed teeth as the mouth stretched wider and wider, impossibly wide; so wide Alice thought that if it didn't split the cat's skull, it would at least meet itself around the back of his head.
"Hello, Alice," it said in a deep, pleasingly raspy baritone.
Alice gasped, jumping and scraping her bare shoulders against the bark of the tree. The woods before her were empty. What? She looked back and forth, getting to her feet so she could peer around the trunk she had been leading against. Nothing. She was alone. She must have dozed off sitting at the foot of the tree. What a weird dream. Her hypothesis was backed up by the fact that thin shafts of real sunlight were filtering through the trees. The sun was rising, it was time for her to get moving again.
Keeping to her eastward course, she walked and walked, finally leaving the forest for an open expanse of sagey brush. The sun was fully in the sky as she made her way between two massive hills, the path between well worn enough to give her confidence that she was heading in the right direction. As she came from between the hills, on the far horizon she could make out the skyline of the city. Normally, upon seeing one's goal when unsure of the navigation, one would feel relief. Instead, she felt a cold coil of trepidation in her chest. She was taking the biggest, blindest, most foolish leap of her life, but it was the only thing she could think of and, hey, it just might work.
Turning toward the city, Alice made her way through another little field of brambles. All at once, she was surrounded, Suits popping up from behind bushes like in a cartoon. And there, front and center, was Rabbit, Mad March - the Queen's favorite assassin, post humus.
"Hello, Alice," he said, his voice tinny and robotic like a tracheotomy survivor's voice box. "You looked like you could use a little company." March's head twitched inhumanly and she couldn't stop her lip from curling just a little. God, that's disturbing. "Where's Hatter?"
She set her jaw and gazed defiantly at the assassin, keeping her mouth shut tight. March stalked towards her, pulling a knife from his sleeve. The action shocked her and she wheeled back, tripping over the shrub behind her. March caught her by her hair, which still hung loose down her back. The girl shrieked as he yanked her head back, bringing the blade to her throat. "Tell me where Hatter is or I'll slit your pretty throat."
So much for her brilliant plan. She was so sure the Queen would have given orders for her to be brought in alive and so sure those orders would be followed to the letter, that March's Mad moniker had not figured heavily enough into her equations. As the metal, not nearly as cold as she felt it should be considering its purpose, pressed against her jugular, Alice surprised herself by remaining silent. Her heart was pounding away at her ribs like a battering ram and her legs felt like Jell-o, but she would not give up the Tea Shop owner, even if it cost her life. She had never thought herself brave before. It was a nice little realization to have just before dying, she thought.
One of the Suits spoke up. "Mad March, the Queen has commanded-"
"That old bat can sit on it," the killer cut him off, pressing the sharp edge more firmly against her. Alice could feel it begin to slice through her skin. The metallic click of a gun cocking, followed by half a dozen more stilled March's hand.
"The oyster is to be taken back alive. Her majesty wasn't so specific on you, however," the Suit told him. The girl had never been so happy to hear a death threat in her life. March pulled away, letting her fall onto the shrub at her back. The sharp little branches dug into her flesh, but that was a small irritation compared to the relief of not having that knife against her throat any longer.
As her would-be murderer moved away, the other Suits surged forward, catching her arms and pulling her up from the bramble. Some still had their guns drawn, but the rest were standing around like a bunch of bodyguards as the VMAs. One of them, sporting a white spade with an A above it on his shoulder, flipped open what looked like some kind of cell phone. Well, Hatter had said the Queen let her Suits bring back technology that tickled her fancy. Within minutes a Scarab was winging its way towards them.
The Suits dragged her onboard the ship, though she went willingly. She wasn't resisting, but the girl's stomach dropped to her knees when one of them mentioned searching her. How had that slipped her mind? God, of course they would search her for the ring - search her everywhere, no doubt. Her face flushed bright red as they pulled her towards a small area enclosed in plexiglass. Instead of going in with her, the agents just shoved the girl inside and slide the door closed.
Another man, this one in a white lab coat, the number eight above a black club emblazoned at the shoulder, stepped forward. "Miss, put your feet in the squares marked on the floor and your hands inside the circles on the wall."
Alice looked down at her feet and, indeed, there were two squares marked off on the floor. She looked back at the man, confused and he repeated his order. Not really having much choice, the girl did as she was told, leaning forward to put her hands flat against the plexiglass inside the painted circles. Number Eight moved to a console set into the wall of the ship beside the box and started pressing buttons. A soft humming filled the air and Alice's hair stood on end, not from nerves, but from a sudden charge of static electricity. The floor beneath her feet suddenly lit up. What the Hell?
On the console, the screen flickered to life and displayed the image of a human skeleton. Her skeleton, Alice realized. The clear cell was some kind of advanced X-ray machine. That was a huge relief. Amazing how little things like not being strip searched by a bunch of strange men could brighten even the worst day just a touch.
"She doesn't have it," Eight told the Ace, who scoffed.
"What do you mean she doesn't have it?"
"Look for yourself," he pointed at the screen. "She doesn't have the ring. It would have shown up on the scan."
No one looked very happy about this discovery, which was exactly what Alice wanted. With everyone worrying about coming up short before the Queen, she decided to put part two of her plan into action.
"You want the ring?" she asked, raising her voice to be heard above the hum of the machine. No one paid her any mind. "Do you?" As a unit, every Suit before her turned and walked out of the room. What? No! That wasn't the way it was supposed to go. "Hey! Where are you going?" She pounded her hands against the glass. The glass! They couldn't hear her through the walls of the scanner, could they? "No! No! Come back!" Fuck!
Alright, calm down, Alice. Drawing a few deep breaths, she tried to calm herself down with minimal success. Something itched at her neck and when she reached up toe scratch it, her fingers came away stained red. March's knife had actually cut her, if only shallowly. From what she could feel, the cut extended about three inches across her throat. I have to sit down. And she did just that, curling her bare legs under her on the cold glass floor of the cell.
It was okay, she wasn't done in. Not yet. She just had to wait until they came back. They would, of course, since they'd have to take her back out of the little cell to get her off the Scarab. Then, she could cut a deal. Right? Wrong. At the far end of the room was a large oval window. Through this, Alice could see a strange, garish building in the distance. Like an inverted pyramid, the structure was wide at the top and grew narrower towards the base. How something like that could even support itself and stay standing was beyond her comprehension. As they grew closer, she could see that the building, like the Tea Shop, had a red electronic crawl. Happy Hearts Casino, Living the Dream. Wow. But, tackiness aside, that was where she wanted to go.
Unfortunately, that was not where the Scarab was headed. Instead they seemed to be on an intercept course with another aircraft, some kind of dirigible. A wave of trepidation washed through the girl as she took in the huge rectangular ship supported by cables that attached it to a massive balloon - metallic red and shaped, she saw, like a heart. An announcement came over the PA system for all passengers to assume docking positions, followed by a loud series of clangs as the jet locked into place on a flat landing deck stop the other ship.
Soon, the Suits came to reclaim her. As they marched her off the jet, she tried again in desperation. "Don't you want to know where the ring is?" No one answered her. They didn't even look at her. Eyes forward, mouths shut seemed to be the order of the day. "Where are you taking me?"
"To the Queen," the one holding her right arm said shortly. Her legs stopped working and, if not for the stony grip the men had on her upper arms, Alice would have gone down right there. She was being taken before the Queen of Hearts, a sadistic monarch who thought more about the drape of her skirts than sending someone to their death. Hatter had been right all along. This was suicide.
But, hadn't that been a possibility from the start? And hadn't she just stared death in the face with Mad March's knife at her throat? Yes, she had whimpered and shook, but she had not flinched - which was the important part. Of course, that was only death. Who knew what the Queen might have in store for her?
The girl was lead from the Scarab pad through stark corridors lined by plush crimson carpeting. The only decoration on the white walls were blood red hearts fashioned of intricately woven and twisted filigree, each one unique from the others. Two grand double doors, twice over as tall as she was if not more, swung open as they approached, as Alice was led into the throne room. The carpet in this room was pure snow white and matching white drapes hung down from the ceiling to cover all the walls. It felt like she was inside a gift box. Clear glass crystals hung from the ceiling like icicles, lit from within and here and red lights glowed softly behind the white fabric on the walls. There was a raised dais set back in the room, with graduating sections stepping down to the floor level.
The only furnishings in the room sat on the dais, both deep sangria. One, on the second level, was a comfortable looking armchair, over stuffed and high backed, complete with ottoman footstool. The other sat on the highest level, a grand throne of polished red jade, carved with the same intricacy as the hearts in the hallway, the seat of which was overly wide and luxuriously padded with velvet and satin cushions.
Several courtiers were standing about the room, the Queen's personal audience existing only to please her. The man with black robes and strange hat - which Alice now understood was a club, his "suit" - who had been there at the Tea Shop when Mad March killed the innocent man stood at the foot of the platform. Another similarly dressed, but much shorter cohort stood at his side. The Suits in this room were dressed in white, the red mark of their Queen at their shoulders. All Aces, all hearts. Beside the armchair stood a man in his late forties, thickly built and dull eyed, adorned in a suit of sanguine material to be envied by every Italian tailor ever to thread a needle.
And there, on the throne, the Queen of Hearts herself. She was nothing and everything Alice had expected. She wore a lush and beautifully embroidered robe that could only be made of the finest silk, threads of gold woven through the garment to form an exquisite pattern of hearts that could never be considered gaudy. The Queen in the book and cartoon was fat and unattractive, but this woman, while heavyset, she was not obese. And not unattractive. Her hair, the color of a candied apple, was pulled elegantly back from her handsome face and there was a regal arch to her fine dark brows. Her skin was clear and pale, the kind they faked in beauty ads back in her world, lips so red it looked like they were bleeding.
"Where is the ring?" the Queen demanded, her voice the most genteely accented Alice had ever heard, deep and rich and powerful, everything the voice of a Queen should be. Struck dumb with awe and fear, the little oyster could not have answered if she tried. Lucky for her, the monarch was speaking to the Ace at her side and not the girl, herself.
"She doesn't have it, Your Majesty," he answered. Though the man's voice was clear and firm, Alice could feel his hand trembling where he held her arm. Spartan rules apply in the kingdom of the Hearts and the messenger bearing ill news risked suffering an ill fate.
"Perhaps we should search her again," the man, the king suggested, stepping down to look Alice over. "More… thoroughly."
"It wouldn't do any good, sir," said the Ace beside her. The king glanced at him and lifted his eyebrows conspiratorially, mouth curling upward in a slightly lecherous fashion.
"Oh, I don't know about that."
"Winston." The Queen reigned him in with a single sharp word, then turned her attention fully on the shaking prisoner. "Where did you hide it, girl?"
Alice jumped and for a second, just a split second, might have given up the ring. If the Queen ever found out, they wouldn't stand a chance. Hatter's words came to her mind from nowhere and she could see the poor people hiding, huddled among the books in the Great Library. No, she tried to shake off the fear gripping her heart. She wouldn't give up the ring. She straightened her spine.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she announced, amazed that her voice didn't shake as much as she expected. The Queen's face remained impassive, as though the girl's answer meant nothing. The king, however, scoffed and rolls his eyes.
"We know Jack gave you the ring, Alice. The head of the White Rabbit told us, God rest his soul," he said, motioning the Suits away so he could circle his captive. So, Mr. Sinister had been execute for failing to retrieve the ring. She wanted to take satisfaction from that, but the thought just made her ill. "But the question is… did you leave it in your world?"
The Queen of Hearts' upper lip twitched ever so slightly in annoyance. "Winston, you idiot. Now she knows we don't know whether she brought it with her," she admonished her husband in disgust.
"Ah, that's right…" the king's tone lost its bravado under the reprimand. "Sorry dearest," he apologized with the ease of long practice. "This interrogation business is very tricky." He sighed and moved to complete his ring around Alice, but stopped to her right. "Wait, is she really that clever?"
The Queen narrowed her eyes, her face taking on a look of superior self-satisfaction. "Oh, yes. I think she just may be." The monarch rose from her throne then and everyone in the room began to shift uncomfortably. "You walked into Mad March's trap on purpose, didn't you?" She asked Alice. The girl knew she was not meant to answer, which was good, because her tongue felt like a thick, useless lump taking up space in her mouth. "You wanted him to catch you, because you didn't know your way to the casino."
The Queen turned, moving down the steps as she spoke and that was when the girl noticed the light glinting off something at the woman's side. Half as long as the Queen's leg, the sword was almost serpentine in shape, like someone had caught a wisp of smoke and gave it form as a wicked blade of palest silver and that gray remnant of the smoke followed the length of the cutting edge, so sharp Alice thought just looking at it could draw her blood.
"You would only do that, of course, if you'd hidden the ring first. Somewhere very discreet. Am I right?" She didn't wait for an answer, already knowing everything she said was correct. "Your plan was to cut a deal with one of my underlings, make your demands, and return the ring only when they'd been met. But, suddenly, you find yourself face to face with the Queen of Hearts herself; the most powerful woman in the history of literature and you don't know whether you can go through with it." Unnaturally red lips curved into a smug smirk as the Queen looked at Alice. Looked up at her. It was wrong for someone so powerful and dangerous to be so small. She should be eight feet tall, towering over her subjects as literally as she did figuratively. "You've lost your nerve."
Alice swallowed, feeling small and weak under the imposing stare of the Queen, her murky-green eyes filled with arrogance and conceit. "Now, tell me where you've hidden my ring."
"N-no," someone stuttered. Only when the woman's eyes widened slightly and filled with rage did Alice realize it had been she who spoke.
"No?" The Queen demanded, sending a chill through the room.
"I h-haven't lost my nerve," the girl declared, though her voice sounded anything but sure. In a flash of crimson and silver the too keen point of the sword was at the base of her neck.
"Still so confident?"
Alice dared not swallow, dared not breathe for certainty that the sharp point would slide through her skin like water. "If you kill me, you'll never find it."
"Hmm. You may have a point, there," the Queen conceded, lowering the sword. She did not put it away, however. "Perhaps if I killed someone else. Would your steely nerves desert you then?" Moving faster than a tiny, chubby person ought be able, the Queen of Hearts seized the nearest courtier. The pretty girl, not much older than Alice, squealed in fear, dropping to her knees with her ruler's pudgy fingers gripping her long, walnut locks. "This girl is of no consequence to me; there are dozens more like her waiting to take her place. But, you, my dear, have the look of someone that cherishes the lives of others. Are you steadfast enough to watch her die for your cause?"
"Don't!" Alice cried. The Suits caught her again, holding her back from interfering. She was terrified for the girl, whom she didn't even know, who probably didn't deserve her concern. She was also enraged that the Queen could be so soulless. The regality, the elegant deadliness of the monarch crumbled before the oyster's eyes, leaving only a small, horrible woman with too much power and too much greed. "If you kill her, if you kill anyone, I'll never tell you where the ring is. Never."
The Queen of Heart's bawdy red lips pursed in a mew of displeasure. After a moment, she cast the blubbering courtier aside and resettled the sword at her hip. Ever capricious, the monarch's violent rage subsided as though it were never there and she sounded bored with the entire situation. "Very well. What are your demands?"
Alice blinked at her dumbly for a moment. Her demands? What were her demands? Oh! Of course. She shook off the confusion. "I want you to free the man I came here for, Jack Chase, and send us both home."
"I assume you'll only give up the ring's location when you're both safe and sound, then?"
Pulling her shoulders back and her chin up, Alice lied, "Yes. I'll tell you where it is."
"Very well," the Queen sighed, waving a hand at the smaller club. "Number nine, go fetch this Jack Chase."
The club stuttered, "But ma'am-"
"Do as your told," the Queen ordered firmly. The little man jumped as if hit with a switch and scurried to the door, black robe flapping behind him. The doors opened and the Queen smiled at Alice like a cat who'd cornered a mouse.
"What a coincidence. It appears Jack Chase was waiting just outside the door. I wonder why," she crooned snidely.
Alice whirled and there, not five feet away and apparently unharmed was Jack. Her Jack. She gasped his name and, forgetting the Queen and rest of the court, ran to her lover and threw her arms around him. He was alive, he was here, he was… not hugging her back. She loosened her grip, looking up into his eyes, a duller green in this lighting than they had been the last time she saw him. There was more that wasn't the same. His hair, that lovely chestnut hair had been bleached out to a near platinum blonde and, instead of constantly falling over his face, his bangs were slicked back securely, giving his hair and overall plasticy appearance. He wore a suit, now, far more formal than those he'd worn in the months she had known him; red and black, with a black tie over a white, ruffled shirt.
Looking up at the man in confusion, Alice touched his hair, his face, the suit. "Are you alright?" In her head it sounded like, what happened to you?
"I'm fine," he assured her in a strangely flat tone. "What are you doing here?" The question was so out of place, so wrong that she couldn't form an answer. The Queen supplied one for her.
"We found her running around the forest all on her todd. So, I brought her here. I was very curious to see what sort of tart my son has been hanging around with these days."
It sounded like a bomb went off in her head at those last words. Son? My son? Her son? Alice gawked up at Jack, her Jack. The Queen of Hearts' Jack? "You're her son?" Jack had never been easy to read but, just now, in the way his eyes slid away from hers, the way his jaw tightened, the way he leaned away from her ever so slightly, Alice could see that he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
"His real name is Jack Heart," the Queen informed her, using the truth as her sword now. "He lied to you about that, too." Lied. That was the word. Jack had lied to her and done it so well she hadn't a clue.
"Mother," Jack began, obviously unhappy with the tone of the conversation. He'd called her mother. He was her son. Jack Heart, from Wonderland.
"Don't 'Mother' me, you odious quisling," his mother - his mother- retorted. "Your girlfriend-" the word another slash with her verbal blade "-has hidden the Stone of Wonderland out there in the bushes somewhere."
"She's not my girlfriend," Jack protested without emotion. He caught her chin and tilted it to the side slightly, eyes moving over the cut on her neck with no more than idle curiosity. "She's nothing to me."
"Jack!" Alice pulled from his touch, gasping his name only because she couldn't make her brain and mouth connect properly. How could he say such a thing? How could he lie? But, he'd been lying all along, hadn't he? Lying to her about everything.
"Why, then, did you give her my ring?" The Queen demanded of her son, more irritated than angry. Jack frowned in annoyance.
"As I've said a thousand times, I didn't give it to her, she took it." Now he was lying to his mother, too? Was the man incapable of telling the truth? He looked down at Alice again and smiled. He smiled while lies spilled from his lips like rain. "She was an affair, that's all. Someone to pass the time with while I explored her world. I took the ring so as to be certain I had the power to return. Little did I know she'd go through my things while I slept."
But you gave it to me! She almost shouted at him. Almost punched him dead in the face. They both knew he'd given it to her, so why was he lying now? Obviously, he didn't want his mother to know he had given her the ring freely. And hadn't he been dragged back to Wonderland forcibly by the White Rabbit? That wasn't a lie, she had seen it with her own eyes, followed the man through the Looking Glass.
"Alice," Jack said, drawing her from her thoughts. "Tell us where you hid the ring." She only stared at him. I can't tell you. She'd already closed that door forever. "I didn't ask you to come here," he said. Another lie. He certainly had asked her to come with him to his home and Wonderland was his home. Why would he even mention that? There was no way his mother would know about his invitation.
No, only Alice would know. Only she and Jack. Now, she understood. He was trying to tell her something. That he was on her side? She didn't know. He went on, "I certainly didn't ask you to hide the ring, so, come on. Tell everyone where it is." His eyes flicked from her own towards his mother and back and she knew that had some meaning as well. His mother. The ring. Her demands.
"No," she shook her head. "I won't tell anyone where it is, until after I'm home. Out of Wonderland."
This seemed to be just what Jack wanted to hear. He smiled and a chill went through her because, dear God, it reminded her of his mother's. "Perhaps that's not such a bad idea," he said, turning from her to the Queen. "If I take her home, you'll be sure to get it back."
The Queen weighed his suggestion, but shook her head with a false air of regret. "Brilliant, but the only little niggle is, I wouldn't trust you if you told me the sun was round."
She walked away from her son to stand before the door, just ahead of the king, who said, "Sadly, we've had to shut the Looking Glass altogether, now."
"I'm sure we can win over the lovely girl without going all the way back to smelly old home, sweet home," the Queen of Hearts proclaimed. As if on cue, the doors swung open again, revealing a statuesque blonde woman, scantily clad in a gold dress, cut away to show as much of her torso as possible and still get a PG rating. "Ah, look who's here," the Queen remarked, sounding very pleased. The blonde sauntered into the room, hips swaying like a character out of a noir detective film. She had gams that just wouldn't quit; if I was lucky, they might take some overtime. "Duchess."
"Majesty," the gold clad beauty cooed in a throaty voice to match her hips, dipping down in a curtsy that belonged on pay per view. The king meowed under his breath, the creepy old lech.
"Jack," the Queen admonished. "Have you nothing to say to your fiancé?"
Another explosion between Alice's ears and she didn't even notice the walking, breathing Barbie doll circling her. "What?" Lying about a ring and who gave who what was one thing, but a fiancé was something else entirely. Jack had made love to her, to Alice, while engaged to another woman? Even covered in sweat and dirt and Jabberwock blood, Alice had not felt so soiled.
"Don't tell me Jack forgot to mention his life long love," the Queen exclaimed breathily in heavily mocking disbelief. "His wildly romantic engagement and upcoming wedding."
Her view of the Queen was blocked by a bodice of shining gold as the Duchess slipped between them. She gazed down at Alice as though she were an exhibit of foreign culture in a museum, curious and slightly perplexing. "So, this is…"
"I'm afraid so," the Queen affirmed displeasedly. The long, perfectly manicured and painted nail tipped fingers of the Duchess came under Alice's chin, tilting her head up so she could inspect her face. The girl turned away sharply, cheeks flushed brightly in anger and betrayal and the discomfort of being looked over like an insect in a glass case.
"Really? I'm starting to wonder about your taste, Jack. I mean, if you think she's pretty, what must you think of me?" the blonde remarked, curling a lock of Alice's dark hair between her fingers. She'd had enough of this touchy feely crap and slapped the other woman's hand away. She'd have knocked her flat on her ass if it wouldn't have risked the Queen's fickle temper and gotten her beheaded.
"He thinks you're the most gorgeous creature in the world," the Queen assured her in an incredibly insincere, bored tone. "That's why he's marrying you."
The Duchess moved away, curling herself around Jack like a mink stole and the girl had to make a physical effort not to attack them both, as both somehow equally garnered her wrath. The anger was easy to deal with, the pain lancing through her chest was quite another story. Seeing Jack and the Duchess there, Alice was struck by how right they looked together. Particularly because of Jack's new look. Barbie and Ken.
"You see, Alice, my dear, Jack has been engaged for months, now. His flight through the Looking Glass was merely a diversion. A stag spree. A wave good-bye to his mischievous youth." The Queen's manner turned from cruel mocking to cold fury as she stepped closer to her prisoner. "You're going to tell us where you hid the ring and then you're going to wish you had never laid eyes on my son."
What the Queen of Hearts didn't know was that Alice was already well on her way to that point.
"Well, I'd better run," Jack suddenly piped, extricating himself from his fiancé's grasp. He took Alice's hands, pulling her away from his mother as though they were old friends parting on good terms. "Good-bye Alice. I forgive you for taking the ring." If he hadn't been holding her hands, she'd have decked him right there and not felt an ounce of remorse regardless of the outcome. Then, something cooly metallic was pressed against her palm. Jack closed her fingers around it as he continued to speak. "I know you're upset with me and I don't blame you." Alice didn't bother looking at his face, knowing she would not find any information there. The man was a closed book. He leaned in and kissed her temple softly, hissing in the barest whisper. "He's here."
He's here? What did that mean? Panic flooded her and for a moment all she could think was that they'd found Hatter. They'd somehow followed her trail back to the Kingdom of the Knights and Hatter had been captured and was locked up somewhere in the Royal airship. Reason took over after that horrible moment. No, they wouldn't have done that. Not that her trail had been particularly stealthy, but none of the Suits that caught her had stayed behind, not even Mad March. And the fact that they'd caught her cohort wouldn't have been a secret, the Queen would certainly have used it to her advantage in trying to make Alice talk. Then what could he mean by it?
Jack stepped away from her then. "Good-bye." He turned and walked away, head high, a content smile on his face. "Duchess," he said, offering the woman his hand. Arm in arm, Jack - her Jack - walked away with another woman and left Alice there to face his mother alone.
As for his mother she waved to her Suits again, commanding, "Take her to the Truth Room." Then, she turned away, apparently having lost all interest in the oyster. The tall club nodded.
"Yes, mum." He motioned to the Aces and Alice was led from the chamber. The Truth Room. That did not bode well. She could only imagine what kinds of torture they'd come up with in a place like Wonderland. She was marched down more of the red and white hallways, until her imposed entourage came to a halt before what looked like elevator doors. But the doors didn't open; they all just stood there, staring at them. Was there a waiting list for the Truth Room or something?
"Now arriving at Happy Hearts Casino," a tinny voice announced from nowhere. There must be a hidden intercom system, Alice reasoned blankly. She couldn't think for all the thoughts swirling in her head. Like a flock of birds all trying to land on the same little tree, there were far too many, so none could manage to light on a branch long enough to settle. "Lift will be operational in ten minutes."
So, they were waiting for the lift? That meant the Truth Room was in the casino. So, she had a ten minute stay of… well, not execution, but what she was in store for could very well be a step down from there. Alice glanced at her guards. No one was looking at her, all the men kept their eyes straight ahead like automatons. She risked opening her hand to see what Jack had found so important as to risk secretly slipping it to her in open view of his mother and a room full of onlookers.
A watch. A man's watch. She stared at it in disbelief. It was a nice watch, sure, though hopelessly out of style by today's standards. Serviceable, her mother would have said. But, still, just a watch. The thing didn't even work, stuck just after four o'clock, the little date marker stopped on the twenty-third of March. He's here. Jack's whisper hissed in her ear all over again and her mind snapped to full clarity. She knew why a watch. She knew what watch, or more accurately, knew who's watch. She flipped the bit of metal and glass over, looking at the back of the mechanism and there, engraved on the mirror finish, were two letters.
R.H. Robert Hamilton. Her father was alive. Her father was in the casino.
In case you're wondering why the airship, it just struck me as weird that the Queen of Hearts would be living at the casino. It's little more than an emotion tea factory and I couldn't jive with someone as full of herself as the Queen deigning to even stay there. Just my opinion.