The courier muttered under his breath as he trotted through the trees. After three long hours on snowing roads, he would rather be inside with a good fireplace than delivering a message to the cannibal Generals March and Hatter! Fuming, he slowed his steed to a quiet trot. The snow muffled his horse-fly's clipping hooves; the woods were silent. The courier shivered. Just a few more minutes, a half hour or more, before he would reach the tea party…

March watched the oblivious messenger from overhead, huddled in his armor as he sipped at the tea in his canteen. Horrible way to drink rationed tea really, but it couldn't be helped. Screwing the canteen's cap back on, he crouched, waiting for the messenger to pass underneath. As soon as the horse trotted below, he leapt down and knocked the courier from his steed.

The horse-fly stopped stock-still, confused as the man crashed against the ground. Instantly, March knelt on the man's chest, his cleaver pressed against the man's pulsing throat as he smirked, "Hello."

Struggling, the messenger snarled, "Off me, you lout! Jabberwock sent me!"

March's ears tilted forward, and a grim smile split beneath the metal visor. Grabbing the man's shoulder, he pulled him up roughly, "What does Jabberwock want?"

"He's sent me with invitations." The courier reached angrily into the satchel at his side and withdrew two parchments stamped with Jabberwock's personal seal, a crimson cursive J.

March snatched it and, sheathing his cleavers, opened one of the invitations. Scanning it quickly, he paused and then growled, "A masquerade?" He stared at the messenger in disbelief.

Glaring at him, the courier nodded, snorted, and turned back to his steed, "One's for Hatter." He vaulted up.

March nodded, "Thank you. You may go on."

The courier hurriedly took off down the snowy forest road.

March faded back into the forest, his dented white armor just a bit darker than the snow surrounding him Gray ears twitching as they picked up whispers of noises, he quietly crept through the trees, stomach growling, mind racing. A masquerade? What fun! He'd been to one once with Hatter, back when the Queen of Hearts still lived.

Soon, he strolled into the tea party clearing, grinning widely as he fantasized about the coming ball. He saw Hatter sitting cross-legged at the fire, scraping furiously at a red-tinted piece of metal, constantly sticking it into the flames to watch it melt smoothly.

Looking up, Hatter glared at his comrade, pulling his blanket close around him, "Find anything?"

"Some eggs." March sat next to him and peered at the steel, "Found something that'll work for a new dagger?"

"Yes." growled Hatter.

Shrugging, March let one of his ears plop down onto Hatter's snow-flecked top hat, "Lighten up, Hats. What did you find?"

Hatter reached up and brushed March's ear off of his hat like a pesky insect, "Why don't you go look? I think he's still under the table."

Tilting his head to the side, March dug out the invitations as he stood. He dropped them into Hatter's lap. Quickly, he bounded over to the snow-covered table, lifted up the tablecloth, and peered beneath curiously.

Cheshire glanced up from his washing of his paw, smiling broadly, "Would you mind not letting the snow in, please?"

Ducking under the table, March allowed the cloth to drop to block the snow. He gazed at Cheshire, noting a healing scab on his side and ten identical scars rounding the base of his skull, "You had a run in with Jabberwocky."

Cheshire twisted to lick his side, "I tried to get Alice back and he got… aggravated. Is it widespread news?"

"Yes. You got a spear in the side, didn't you?"

"Yes. It hurt, but I'll survive."

Creeping closer, March poked at the Cheshire Cat's side, "Looks like someone treated it."

Cheshire rose a great paw so March could see the healing wound more clearly, "The tip was stuck in there pretty good. The Imagineer's couldn't get out because they feared they'd bleed me to death. They gave me medicine for the head wounds, of course. Don't want to be bleeding from the head, you know." His smile grew like a crescent moon as he continued, "Hatter found me on the eastern side and said he likes anyone who tries to get Alice away from the Jabberwocky. He took the tip out; that's why it looks like it's bled recently."

March asked dryly, "Then he gave you Sorul berries, right? To fight any infection?"

"Those little red flowers? Yes."

Groaning, March crawled out from under the table and crept over to Hatter, "What possessed you to bring him back here?"

A small smile crept onto Hatter's lip under his visor, "He was cold. Apparently, cat fur doesn't conserve heat like yours. But, tell me, what do you think possessed Jabberwocky to want to throw a masquerade?"

"I don't know… You want to go, though? We could go early; you can give Alice that thing you stole from contraband and polished up. And it would kind of solve the food problem…" March moaned and placed his hands on his stomach, dramatizing his hunger, "It's hard to hunt in winter; everything's just hibernating. Cold too, you know."

Hatter stopped fingering the invitation and half-made dagger to glare at March, "Why are you complaining? You have fur?"

Chuckling, March shoved his shoulder playfully, "Just kidding, but your eye's all better now, and Alice probably wants to see your handsome face again. And your wrist's pretty good too."

Hatter stared at the metal in his hand and muttered softly, his one visible eye narrowing grimly, "Why would she want to see me? I hurt her. I don't even deserve to live because of that."

Rolling his eyes, March sighed, "Well, if you don't want her, can I marry her?"

Hatter snapped around to stare at March, realized the joke, and laughed, "Think we should dust off the old suits?"

March started to respond, but Cheshire peered out from underneath the table and asked, "Suits? What suits?"

Hatter glared at Cheshire, "Nothing that concerns you, Cheshire."

Jabberwock glared at the reports, flipping through them quickly with a growl. Throwing them over his shoulder, he swiped his desk clean and stared at the empty space before growling, "There's absolutely nothing to do."

Alice glanced up from her drawing paper, where her inexperience with the quill showed blatantly. Her stick people looked like deformed flowers. "Now you know how I felt when you were gone."

Crossing his arms, Jabberwock leaned back on his chair and put his feet atop the desk. He inspected his claws with disinterest, "I have half the mind to go down and duel a prisoner. It'd be better than waiting till I feel like heading the executions." He smiled wickedly and flicked at a piece of floating dust.

Alice stood up, intent on diverting Jabberwock's mind from dueling a poor prisoner. Scuffing her toe, she tried, "Well… can you teach me how to fight?"

Jabberwocky fell backwards in his chair, surprised. A second later, his ruffled head popped up from behind his desk, eyes a pale yellow, "You? Fight?"

"Yes…" Alice fidgeted under his stare, "So… if, um, Cheshire kidnaps me again, I can-"

Jumping up, Jabberwock excitedly nodded, "Oh, yes, yes, absolutely! Except, instead of fighting, how about evading? It'll prove the same point." He stripped of his heavy over shirt.

Alice drew back, startled, "Evade…?"

Throwing off his under shirt, Jabberwock poked himself in the chest, dislodging a piece of fuzz that clung on. He wiped the fluff off of his skin and smiled, "Just try to avoid me. If I catch you, fight back." He cracked his knuckles, "Now… to make this as realistic as possible," He stood still, eyes changing to a deep black. The next instant, his head snapped towards her, his smile hungry as he hissed, "Let's have some imagination." Lunging forward, he snarled as he reached for Alice.

Alice leapt back instinctively, and the claws snapped shut around empty air.

Instantly, Jabberwock followed up with another charge, this time successfully grabbing Alice. He twisted her painfully around so that his arm lay across her throat and the other pinned her free hand helplessly down.

Alice struggled against his hold, felt his warm breath against her neck, "Let go!"

The blackness flickering from his eyes, Jabberwock chuckled, "Dress makes it a little hard to move, doesn't it?" He released her and grinned, "You have twenty seconds to take off what you don't need."

Self-conscious but excited, Alice took those twenty seconds to shrug off her lacy petticoat and poofy outer dress layer, leaving her in her long underwear and half-knee lady's breeches. Small, timid muscles tensing, she watched him warily.

Eyes darkened once more, Jabberwocky bared his teeth and circled her, the hunger and anger he called forth so evident in his night eyes. Suddenly snapping out his arm, he leaped forward, hissing.

Alice dodged his hand and, instead of stopping in surprise like last time, ran to the side of the room.

Stalking after her, Jabberwocky chuckled wickedly, playing the part of the attacker a bit too well, "Where you going, Alice?" He broke into a full-out charge, smiling maliciously.

Alice waited till the last moment before diving out of the way. Face down on the ground, she heard a loud –CRASH!- behind her and scrambled up to look back.

Jabberwock had slammed into the bookcase and it now lay flat on top of him. Groaning, the dark being pushed the heavy wooden thing up, shook a few books off of himself, and then slid himself gingerly out from under it. He shook dazed thoughts from his head. Staggering up, he let his eyes focus on Alice and growled, "That hurt." He lunged at her. Startled, Alice found herself in a crushing hug once more from Jabberwock. He sniffed at her hair and muttered, "Mm… You smell salty."

"Let me go! You're killing me!"

He drew back, frustrated and annoyed, and surveyed her with yellow narrowed eyes, "I don't think I would have let you go if you were an enemy."

"But I'm not your enemy."
"But what if you were?"

"But I'm not."

Jabberwock sighed and drew a knife from his belt, "I'm your enemy now, let's say." He tossed Alice the knife, "What would you do?"

"I guess I would stab you."

"Good. Now do it."
Alice was shocked, "What?"

"Stab me. I'm your pretend enemy."
"I'm not going to stab you!"

Sighing, Jabberwock snatched the dagger back and shrugged, "Fine. Boom, I just killed you. You're dead. Now, let's stop play-fighting and-" A knock sounded at the door. Trailing off, Jabberwock regained his composure as best he could with his bare chest exposed and muttered, "Come in."

The door creaked open and March peered in, his long ears erect in interest and swiveled towards his liege and lady, "Did we… interrupt something? I heard something about stabbing."

Hatter leaned in over March, eyes instantly locking on Alice in her undergarments. Instantly, he drew back blushing.

Jabberwock scowled at the March Hare, "What are you two doing here?"

Shrugging, March slipped in, "Food's gotten scarce in the forest, and, frankly, it's a bit cold, if you haven't noticed." He glanced back through the open door and huffed, "Ah, c'mon, Hats! It's not like she's naked or anything!"

Alice reddened as Hatter slunk solemnly in, a wooden case in his hands.

Grinning faintly, Jabberwock took a step forward and said, "Hey, Hatter… I tried to teach Alice how to fight and she can't seem to grip the idea of stabbing something. Will you kindly illustrate…here?" He pointed at himself.

Hatter cocked his head, "Sire, are you sure?"

"I know you want to. You have my permission. Just-" Jabberwock's voice cut off as Hatter lunged forward and, in one fluid moment, buried his newly made dagger into his master's chest.

Hatter released his dagger's grip and stepped back, voice satisfied as he smirked, "As you say, sir."

As Alice watched in horror, Jabberwock stumbled back a few paces before ripping the knife from his torso. Black blood dripped from it. Grimacing in pain, Jabberwock fingered the wound, tried to say something, couldn't manage anything more than a wheezing sigh. He frowned and tried again.

March watched cheerfully and intently as Jabberwock struggled to speak, "Hats got your throat, sir." Glancing at the smug Mad Hatter, he commented, "I wonder if we're the only ones who enjoy watching Jabberwock suffer?"

Alice hesitantly put a hand on Jabberwock's forearm, "Are… you okay?"

Glancing at her, Jabberwock smiled, nodded, looked at March, and motioned furiously with a clawed hand, squeaking hoarsely.

"You want me to tell her?"

Jabberwock nodded.

Sighing, March crossed his arms as Jabberwocky retreated to his desk to recuperate, "Well… uh… let's start with that stab should have killed him."

Hatter nodded behind him solemnly.

"But… uh… Jabberwock here, being Shadowland royalty and all, can't… he can't die as long as he's Shadowland territory."

Unbelief clouding her eyes, Alice asked, "What?"

March rolled his eyes, pink nose flaring, "If he's on Shadowland territory, he can die just like any of us. But, as long as he's in Wonderland, he can't die normally."
Shaking his head, Hatter let a solemn breath out, "Horrible shame, too."

Jabberwocky squeaked indignantly, glaring at Hatter angrily.

Alice switched her eyes between the two assassins and her father, "Why?"

Looking at March with a curious question in his eyes, Hatter bit his lip, gripped his wooden case tightly, "Something about 'home being the grave'?"

Jabberwock broke into a hacking cough before muttering hoarsely, "Exactly."
"Then why don't the other… royal people and stuff live in Wonderland? I mean, if you couldn't die, wouldn't you try not to die?" Alice asked.

Coughing, Jabberwocky said in a cracked voice, "Death is… very… honorable… in our… country… If you can't die… you're dishonored."
Alice stared at him, lost and confused.

Jabberwocky eyed Hatter, "What's in… the box?" His voice grew gradually stronger as his wound healed.

Startled, Hatter glanced at the wooden case in his hands, blushed, and shuffled, "A present… for Alice."

Immediately, Alice's reeling mind snapped to focus on the box. A present? For her? She breathed, "For me?" Enthralled, she felt her eyes grow sparkly and wide.

Hatter smiled gently at her and nodded before asking the watching tyrant, "May I give it to her?"

Narrowing his topaz eyes, Jabberwock nodded.

Hatter shuffled up to Alice meekly, hands dancing nervously along the edges of the ebony case. Kneeling, he offered it up to her with a bowed head, muttering, "Please accept this from me."

Alice took it gently and opened it. Instantly, her mouth dropped open in amazement. Inside the box lay a crystal tiara upon a purple velvet background. Polished to a gleaming shine that paralleled that to a mirror's surface, it seemed to wink at her in the faint torch-light. The three diamonds, a large blue-tinted one and two smaller pinkish ones twinkled. Alice gaped, glanced at Hatter, looked at the tiara, then returned her eyes to Hatter, "W-w-w-wh… Tha-thank you!"

Hatter stood and took the tiara out of it's lavender protecting pad. Delicately, he set it atop Alice's head with a sigh of happiness. Stepping back, he appraised her with a faint smile, "Do you like it?"

Alice nodded enthusiastically, and, unable to contain her gratitude and joy, leapt up and bounded forward, hugging him around his middle happily, "Oh, thank you!"

Jabberwock watched carefully as Hatter struggled with his emotions and imagination. The assassin's fingers itched to rise and caress her, but he restrained himself, forcing his legs to step back instead. Softly, sadly, he freed himself from her arms, "I'm glad you like it…"
Surprised at the sudden change-of-heart, Alice gazed at Hatter's depressed face, "A-are you okay?"

Jabberwocky stood and fingered his half-healed wound thoughtfully before growling, "I trust you have costumes… for the masquerade?"

Pulling Hatter to his side and throwing an arm over his friend's shoulder, March cheerfully saluted, "Yes, sir. They might need a dust-off here, a stitch-up there, but we've got them!"

"What are you dressing as?"

Hatter freed himself from March's friendly hold and scowled, "You'll see."

Shrugging, March smiled brightly, "Just fancy and a mask. No hat for me."
Jabberwock broke into a pointed grin, "Alice's and mine are being made at the moment, so I have no idea other than mine is black."

"And hers?"

"I don't know."

Alice tentatively touched the tiara on her head, "Could I wear this?"

Grinning, Hatter glanced at Jabberwock, pleading silently.

Suddenly morose, Jabberwock grudgingly nodded, "Fine… but you must wear a mask, at least."
"Yay! Thank you!"

Chuckling, March commented, "Very pretty, Alice. We just need to brush your hair a bit."

The final week and a half before Yule passed quickly, and Jabberwock grew agitated with the preparations. He constantly rushed about the grand hall where the masquerade was to take place, bellowing orders, growing frustrated, and badgering the servant's about every little detail.

The masquerade costumes came back from the seamstresses, and Alice instantly fell in love with hers, a white sparkling dress that fell in large cascades of cloth. A slight bluish tint added to its beauty. The top sported small pearls embroidered expertly into the cloth, nestled between the raised stitched flowers and vines. Decorated with small clear jewels, fine netted wings sprouted forth from the back, like that of a butterfly's. The mask that would hide her face was a white smooth mask that covered the upper half of her face, painted with small glitters. The tiara itself topped the whole ensemble, as did the shiny dancing slippers and elbow length white gloves.

Jabberwock's costume came back as a handsome black and gold monstrosity, gilded with golden thread. The overcoat, black brocade alternating between velvet and silk, looked tight and declared his thin muscularity. The undershirt existed as a black long-sleeve with ruffles, the decorative chest made to show through the overcoat's open front. Underneath, he word long black pants with golden 'x's marching down the side to crash against fancy boots. He took midnight gloves with a single sun embroidered onto the back. The mask was a full one, featureless and white with eyes slits for the yellow topazes to peer through. Instead of a crown like Alice's, he chose to wear a feathered hat, one that reminded her of Napoleon's general hat.

At the moment, Alice watched March as he wolfed down some bread. Glancing at her, the Hare perked his ears, "Excited? Five days till Yule."

Alice sighed and put her head in her hands, "The way Jabberwocky's been going on about it, you'd think it'd be tonight."
"But, look at the bright side: He's been too busy to kill anyone."
"Yes…"

March finished eating the loaf and brushed the crumbs from his whiskers meticulously, "Well, I'm leaving in a few minutes. The family's having their annual get-together, and I haven't seen most of them for a long, long time. White will be there, hopefully."

Glancing up at him, Alice smiled wearily, "Will it be fun?"

"Sure. Now…" March stood from his seat and straightened his gray general's uniform before saying, "Just a few things, Alice. Hat's is really… depressed right now, and he doesn't want to –how do I say it?- he doesn't want to get you hurt, so he's going to try to be distant. He still loves you, don't worry." As Alice blushed, he itched at one of his ears, "Other than that, I'll be back the night before the masquerade if Decemberist doesn't kill me."
"Who's Decemberist?" asked Alice, face slowly paling to its usual color.

Sighing, March laid back his ears in sullen reluctance, "My brother, along with Septem and Avril."

"Does all your family have names based on months?"

"Months?"

"Yes."

"Uh… no… just my generation. There's usually a theme. When White was born, the theme for the Rabbits that year was colors. There was White, Black, some weird color, and then… Violet."

Alice bit her lip, "Just one more thing: Is Hatter's name really Hatter?"

"Nah… That's just what he was before we met. Never would tell me his real name, said it made him feel evil. And, since I was the March Hater, he decided to imitate my name by calling himself the Mad Hatter. Article, adjective, noun. Only person he ever really told his real name was Princess Lily, but he told her never to tell anyone."
"Why won't he tell you?"

March rolled his colorless eyes, "I told you: he hates it. Now, if you don't mind, I have to go…" Turning, he waved a hand nonchalantly in farewell.

Alice watched him sadly, "Goodbye…"

That night, Jabberwocky stormed into his quarters agitated and angry, "Those bliddy people can't get it right! Didn't they ever throw parties before I came?" He threw off his sweaty shirt and pulled on a fresh one, muttering to himself as Alice peered in from her room, "Blasted time!" Pausing, sensing Alice's eyes on his back, he slowly turned and smiled, "Have a good time with March? Where is he?"

Alice scuffed her shoe as she answered, "He said he was going to a family reunion and that'll he'll be back in time for the masquerade."

Scowling, Jabberwock stalked into her room and glanced at the many discarded drawings, "Family reunion? That means his Imagineer cousin of his will be there too, doesn't it? One of the Rabbits?"

Alice's blood froze as she gazed up slowly. Gulping, she stammered, "W-w-well… yes… but-"

"Don't worry, Alice. I'm in no mood to ruin happy family festivities at the moment." Jabberwocky sat on the bed with a sigh, "I'm just hoping we can get this masque to work…" Laying back, he hefted a deep sigh, his spread-eagled thin frame taking up the whole bed.

Alice nudged into the cavity between his arm and leg, twiddling her thumbs, "What's left to do?"

"Well, the hall's half-decorated, the orders are in with the kitchens… Just decorating and rehearsing the whole bliddy operation left to do…"

Suddenly, Alice found herself laying down in the crook of his arm, her hair being stroked by his gentle claws. Voice soft, Jabberwock did something unexpected: of all things, he started crooning a lullaby. His voice possessed a lilting edge to it, but the language itself seemed to slide serpentine through the air. Dotted with lisps and slur, it nearly made Alice feel like she wasn't hearing right. As it was, her head relaxed against his arm and her eyes fluttered as the shadowlander language lulled her quietly to sleep.

The song wavered to a halt, and Jabberwocky smiled wearily. A lullaby for his daughter… how befitting…

When Alice awoke the next morning, Jabberwock already paced the halls of the castle in anxiety for the masque. Groaning at the thought of another day of boredom, she dressed into a fresh dress and pondered what to do today...

Alice knocked timidly at the door to Hatter's room, wondering if the tiara on her head would please him. Scuffing her shoes, she waited for a response.

She heard a shuffle from inside before a lonely voice called, "Who is it?"

" Alice."
A slight pause followed her answer before she heard the door groan as someone leaned against it. Hatter murmured softly, "What are you doing here?"

Alice sensed uneasiness in his voice, "I'm bored. Do you want to play something? Or talk? Anything?"

Sighing, Hatter creaked open the door just a bit, his voice filled with hurt, "Let's talk. I'll stay in here and you stay out there."
Alice saw only his longing yellow eyes through the crack and huffed, "Oh, come on, Hatter! Let me in!"

The door closed and something scraped up against it. Silence followed.

Alice tried to open the door, but the chair that Hatter pushed up against it blocked it. Groaning, she called, "Okay! I'll stay on this side! Just talk to me!"

"Yes?" grunted Hatter, voice laden with self-loathing.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes… just a bit insane and liable to hurt you."
Alice stared at the door, trying to envision Hatter on the other side, "Where are you?"

A pause, then Hatter's quiet voice, "On my bed."
"What are you doing?"

"Talking to you."
Alice fell silent, frowning, thinking about her next question.

"… Alice?"

"Yes?"

"I… I saw that you're wearing the tiara. Do you… like it?"

Nodding enthusiastically, Alice cheered, "Yes! It's the best present that someone's ever given me!"
Inside the room, Hatter fingered his top hat and smiled sadly, "Really? I think many people could give you so much more."

"But I like it because it's from you! Thank you so much!"

Silence once more. Then Alice ventured hesitantly, "Uh, Hatter? What your –you know- real name?"

A second later, the door slammed open and a pale Mad Hatter stared at Alice in anger, "Who told you?"

Alice stared at her furious friend, "M-March."
Hatter grabbed her roughly and, holding her still, gazed into her eyes imploringly, "Never ask me that! Never!"
Nodding fearfully, Alice watched him in confusion as he released her, turned, and entered his room. She followed him bashfully, "I'm… I'm sorry…"

"No…." Hatter slide onto his bed, silent sobs shaking his shoulders, "I shouldn't have acted like that. I'm sorry."

Stepping over to him, Alice sat next to his sullen form. Hesitant, she asked, "Will you dance with me at the masquerade?"

The next instant, she found herself embraced tightly in his arms as he sobbed into her shoulder, "Oh, Alice, of course! I'm sorry for everything! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! Please, please forgive me!"

Alice pursed her lips as his arms clasped her a bit too tightly to his chest, "You don't have ask me that. You'll always be my friend."

"Could that change?" Lifting her face gently, he bent to kiss her lips, tearstains on his cheeks.

Alice turned her head and heard him moan sadly. Crossing her arms, she stubbornly stated, "No kissing."

Hatter gingerly touched her neck, feeling the frantic pulse beneath, "Why?"

"I-I'm not old enough!" Shaking her head, Alice tried to dislodge his hand and the shudders running down her spine. She was fifteen! A freshman! And Hatter was at least eighteen!

Bright and shiny, Hatter's eyes narrowed in longing hurt, "You're old enough to be betrothed… We could get married in a year or two."

Alice scrambled for excuses, "B-b-but-"

Solemn, Hatter unclasped his arms and let his captive, loved bird free, "I… understand…" His voiced carried such deep sorrow and torment that Alice felt guilty.

Reassuringly placing a hand on his shoulder, Alice murmured quietly, "You're still my friend."

Hatter nodded sullenly and gazed at her face with teary eyes, "I still love you."

Such a blatant statement startled Alice into a pink blush, "O-of course." She couldn't find any other words.

Hatter turned his grieving eyes to the ground, "Thank you…"

When he spoke no more, Alice sifted a little sigh from her throat and exited the room, leaving Hatter to his tortured moping. She couldn't help but feel guilty and sorry for making him so depressed…

Poor Hatter…

Alice sat dejectedly in the sweeping snow, back against the icy stone wall, eyes trained on the ground. Hatter's surly attitude had followed her throughout the day, and now, as afternoon gave up its hold of the land to night, she sat out in the snow to punish herself for causing her friend such grief. A whipping wind lashed flakes across her face, only adding to her misery. Her dress clung to her, soaked by the frozen fluffs and flakes. The sky above mirrored her mood like a looking-glass, fogged up and gray.

As the blizzard augmented, Demeric trudged across the courtyard, intent on reaching his barracks and sleeping off the cold. Horrible weather! Cursing softly, he glanced around at the swirling snow and froze when he saw Alice. Eyes narrowing in confusion, he neared her and leaned down, " Alice?"

She refused to meet his eyes, shivering, "Go away."

Surprised, Demeric tried to pull her up, but she stayed stubbornly seated, " Alice! What are you doing out here? You're going to freeze!"

"Leave me alone. I'm pathetic."

Demeric stared at her in horror, turned, and fled across the courtyard and into the fortress.

Minutes passed, and Alice's arms and legs lost their frozen feeling and slowly went numb. Her eyes threatened to close, tempting her to sleep, but her mind refused to let her rest. She just kept glaring at the ever-changing mask of snow that built on her knees.

Crunches of footsteps slowly made their way to her, and two boots planted themselves in front of her. Following the legs up, Alice blinked tiredly up at Jabberwock, who frowned down at her. Behind him, Demeric wrung his hands together worriedly.

"Go away…"

"What are you doing, Alice?"

Alice hugged her knees to her chest and replied weakly, "I don't deserve anything..."

Kneeling, Jabberwock stripped off his heavy jacket and flung it around her, but it hardly made a difference; so much snow had already found its passage to her skin. His shirt fluttered in the wind as he tried to tug her up, "Don't say that. You deserve everything."

Alice's legs crumpled, and she fell to her knees in the snow, tears running down her cheeks, "But I don't."

Jabberwock put his arm under her legs and lifted her up effortlessly, "Freezing yourself won't do much except make me angry. Would you want that?" He carried her through the drifts and into the warmth of the castle halls.

Head lying on his shoulder, Alice buried her running nose into his shirt and started crying.

Perturbed, Jabberwocky grimaced, but, readjusting his arms beneath her, started heading for his rooms. The trip drew out in silence, and, when they finally did reach the chambers, Alice lay shivering violently. Pulling up a chair, Jabberwock set her down and cupped his hand over her forehead. Alice's skin burned with fever. "Blast it, Alice! You've made yourself sick!"

Alice groaned and slumped in the chair, breath shallow and meek.

Sighing, the tyrant turned, grabbed some reports, threw them in the fireplace, and then knelt with some matches in his hand. Once he started the fire, he muttered, "You know, Alice, that was just stupid, sitting out there like that! Just get better, okay?"

Alice didn't reply, for she slipped off into a deep, feverish sleep.

Frowning as he glanced back at her, Jabberwock felt the hunger stretch inside him as his sight inspected his daughter in all of its different phases. The first traces of imagination invaded Alice's mind, tempting him, but he restrained himself. Alice was sick; to eat her imagination now would do nothing for her. Sighing, he stood and exited the room quickly lest he be tempted even more.
Curse it…