KNIGHT OF CUPS
Upright - Change and new excitements, particularly of a romantic nature. invitations, opportunities, and offers. A person who is a bringer of ideas, opportunities and offers. He is often constantly bored and in constant need of stimulation, but also artistic and refined. A person who is amiable, intelligent full of high principals, but a dreamer who can be easily led or discouraged.
Reversed - Unreliability and recklessness. Fraud, embezzlement, false promises and trickery. A person who is congenital liar, someone who has trouble discerning the end of the truth and the beginning of falsehood.
When Alice was fifteen years old, she was in danger of being executed for the first time.
She'd been sentenced to death before, and the first couple of times it had been scary, yes. But she'd been young, and by and large in the wrong place at the wrong time. No one had seriously expected her not to be pardoned. Today, however, was a bit different.
"You and your fucking radishes," Othello groused from his corner of their cell.
"I said I was sorry," Jelly repeated.
"Well, the acoustics in this cell suck!" he shot back.
"Look, we got our guy anyway," Jelly began.
"Yeah, our little old guy. The Queen can rest safely tonight knowing that Duck is off the street along with a majestic fuckton of radishes!"
Jelly rolled her eyes, but didn't comment. Othello was something of a worrywart; he also had three more years worth of experience than her, which meant that being his partner was a good way to be promoted quickly. He had lost his first partner, which meant that she was usually willing to cut him a little slack.
As previously established, today was not usual; today had involved radishes, one of her plans backfiring in a nearly unsalvageable way, and so is naturally followed that he was really starting to piss her off. Thankfully, Cricket chose that moment to enter, followed closely by Grace and a large tray of food.
"Hello Fours," he greeted. "We come bearing food."
"And news?" Jelly asked hopefully.
"Not the sort of news you're hoping for," Grace said. "But there is-"
The door to the holding cells opened again, and in walked Jack, wearing a dapper suit and a beleaguered expression. "Well, I'm done. That was the worst idea I've ever had."
"What was?" Jelly asked.
"The party," Jack replied, then did a double take, as though just realizing that she was behind bars. "Which you likely haven't heard about."
"You threw a party?" Jelly asked.
"He's throwing a party," Cricket confirmed. "There's alcohol and loud music and everything, four stories up and three corridors that way." He jerked his head back in the direction of door.
"I'm celebrating my inability to get past Mother's guards for these past six months," Jack elaborated. "Thought being, that if I can't go to the city, then a part of the city can come to me. And it was a terrible idea."
"My career certainly misses being able to hand you over," Othello commiserated. "And the lack of radishes."
Jack made a rude noise, pulled a chair out of an empty cell, and sat down in it, burying his face in his hands.
"Jack, darling," Grace said. Jack looked up. "I can't help but get the impression that you're going about partying the wrong way."
"Oh?" Jack asked.
"Yes," she said firmly. "I'll be right back."
She left; Othello chose that moment to ask "So… you and Grace?"
"Yes, him and Grace," Cricket interrupted vehemently. "If there's much more 'him and Grace' I'm going to puke in my robes!"
"Thank you Cricket," Jack replied. "It's so nice to know that I can rely upon you."
"You can rely on me!" Cricket protested. "You just also make me want to vomit."
Grace entered the room at that point, carrying five goblets, three wine bottles and several small kebabs in a basket.
"First," she proclaimed. "We need to drink this. All of it."
Jelly had moved past the buzzed stage several hours later when she realized the flaw in this plan.
"Uh, Jack?" she asked.
Jack lifted his head from where he'd been using Grace's hat as a pillow. "Hm?" he asked, bleary eyed.
"What is your mother going to do when she sees the pictures of this?" she asked.
"She's not going to see pictures of this," Jack scoffed. "She doesn't check security cameras."
"No one's going to send her them if they show her son drunkenly curled up with a Club?" Jelly pressed meaningfully.
"And associating with prisoners she might have executed anyway?" Othello added, getting shakily to his feet.
Cricket frowned. "I think we're supposed to show her those sorts of pictures."
"She's not going to see any pictures," Jack insisted, standing up, and dragging his chair over to the where the camera was mounted on the wall. He swung the chair up at it; he missed, but the force of the chair hitting the wall was great enough to shake the camera from its mountings and have it crash to the floor in pieces. "So there."
Cricket laughed, loud, obnoxious, and drunken.
"My hero," Grace purred, as Jack dragged his chair back next to her.
"Anything for you, darling," he murmured.
Cricket made a retching noise as the door swung open into his chair, and Jelly's father stepped inside. He took in the room: the empty bottles, the broken camera, and the way Grace and Jack had sprung apart guiltily when he entered, before settling his gaze on her.
"What?" Jelly protested. "This isn't my fault! I'm in a cell! On death row!"
Dad pinched the bridge of his nose. "Not anymore you're not. The King's given you and your partner a pardon."
He turned to Cricket and held his hand out for the keys, which the Club gave to him after a small amount of fumbling.
"Come on, Jelllybean," he said, as he unlocked the door. "Let's go back to our quarters."
"FREEDOM!" yelled Othello as the door opened, and he ran for the exit. He stopped just short of it, though, and turned to Cricket before vomiting down the front of his robes.
Eight years later, Jelly watched from a niche in one of the dilapidated old buildings that surrounded the White Rabbit's headquarters. If they'd been in any other area of the City, they would be surrounded by urchins, glaikits, stiffs, and other irregulars; as it was, this part of the City was dead quiet, disturbed only by the occasional Spade making their way into and out of the Police headquarters five stories down.
There were areas in the City she would never authorize a presence in except in force; but no one bothered the Suits in their own territory.
Except for, apparently, her. And Hatter.
"You can leave, you know," she said again, keeping her eyes trained on the auxiliary Looking Glass room. She'd been a little skeptical when she'd heard that the agent the White Rabbit had captured had been operating on the other side- how exactly were they going to keep her father safe if they couldn't stop their own Other Side agents from being caught?- but Gryphon had explained it well enough, if with scanter details than she would have liked. The agent in question was someone the Queen wanted very much, and as he'd planned to return eventually, which meant that he'd stayed close to the Looking Glass rather than moving into one of the Resistance's safe houses several hundred miles inland.
Which meant that it was up to Jelly to anticipate the White Rabbit's actions on this side, something that she had actually gotten rather good at over the years. If they were anticipating trouble from the Resistance- and since the Resistance was apparently planning on giving them trouble that was a pretty sure bet- they would likely be using that instead of the actual Looking Glass chambers. "You've put me in contact with the Resistance, and gotten a contact yourself. I'm not going to blame you if you just go back to your shop."
"Ah, but if I help rescue this agent of Gryphon's, he'll be grateful," Hatter replied. "And then I could have another contact."
"You know, the plan is to bring him back to your shop," Jelly reminded him.
"Yes, but he's more likely to be grateful if I help to rescue him."
"You do realize this is going to involve fighting, right?" Jelly was willing to accept that Hatter was good at avoiding her men, good at talking his way out of things, good at working in the shadows. She was a little more leery of how he would fare in a physical confrontation.
Hatter reached into his jacket and pulled out a pocket pistol. "You're not the only one who goes around armed, you know," he said, sounding insulted.
"It might be hand to hand combat," Jelly clarified.
"I have a mean right hook."
"Really?"
Hatter's protest, whatever it was going to be, was cut short as the air began to vibrate faintly with a Scarab's approach.
"It's early," Jelly said. "They must want to take him directly there. Come on."
She swung a board from the nearby ledge to the roof of the White Rabbit's Headquarters, and, teeth and fists tightly clenched, made her way across. Hatter followed behind her, and they dashed behind the White Rabbit's insignia as two men came out of the auxiliary building, dragging a third between them.
"That must be him," Hatter muttered. Jelly nodded. The unconscious man was wearing jeans and a watch glinted on his wrist; there was no excuse for that unless he'd been living in hiding on the Other Side.
"Wait just a bit," Jelly murmured, holding out an arm to stop him from running for the ladder.
The men were nearly on the premises when Agent White finally appeared, jumping nimbly through the landscape despite his cane.
"Go," Jelly said, moving for the right-hand ladder; Hatter took the left. She climbed down as quickly and quietly as she could and ran around the ledgeway that surrounded the building.
"Agent White!" she shouted.
White stopped short, as did his Suits.
"I do not have time, Ten," he said imperiously. "To quibble with you today. As you can see-"
His monologue was cut short by a sharp whistle, and suddenly one of the men holding the Resistance agent went sprawling to the ground. Jelly lunged for White while he was distracted, and they went tumbling over the Suit's unconscious body. She caught a flash of Hatter squaring off against the other Suit, who was using the unconscious agent as human shield. Then they rolled to a stop, him on top of her; she twisted her hips slightly as he tried to pin her to the ground, and managed to bring her knee up sharply between his legs. He gasped, instinctively curling in on himself, so she rolled herself to the top and the both of them farther away from the ledge and brought her hand back. Her punch landed squarely in the center of his jaw, and his head snapped back against the concrete before his body went limp.
She stood, intending to help Hatter, but there was no need: the Resistance agent suddenly threw himself forwards, pulling himself free of his jacket and leaving the Suit with nothing to protect him but a scrap of cloth. Hatter let fly with his right fist; the Suit tumbled back onto the stairs in a dead faint, his jaw hanging at an unnatural angle.
"You alright?" he asked, breathing hard.
"Yep," she replied, turning back to face the Resistance agent. "How about you, are you okay?"
The agent had been bending over White, his back to them, but he faced them at her question. Jelly blinked.
"Jack?" she asked.
He stood without answering, but now that she had a good look at his face there could be no mistaking the stubborn set of his jaw anywhere, even if he was mysteriously brunet.
"You're with the Resistance?" she demanded.
"I rather think I should be asking you that," he replied.
The air hummed louder, and she could see the Scarab's shadow play across the building in front of them. She grabbed Jack by the wrist and made a dash for the shrubbery, Hatter following close behind. She pressed herself flat against the wall behind the shrubs, Hatter to her right and Jack to her left.
"Who's this then?" Hatter whispered in her ear as the Scarab made its way across the dell.
"Hatter, this is Jack Heart," she told him. "Jack, meet Hatter."
"What," Hatter said, more a statement then a question. He stood on his toes to peer over her head at Jack; Jelly gave him a firm yank and a stern warning look that told him on no uncertain terms to stop rustling the branches.
"That's the bloody heir apparent?" he asked.
"Heir presumptive," Jelly corrected.
"Perhaps we might just stick with heir?" Jack suggested. Jelly shrugged. It wasn't really an area she had much experience with, but she imagined it smarted a little when your mother called a full session of Court to strip inheritance of the throne from you and give it to your hypothetical future wife instead. That probably explained the whole Resistance agent thing, come to think of it, though it still begged the question: just how many people did she know who were secretly members of the Resistance, anyway?
"Seriously, you're the Prince of Hearts?" Hatter demanded.
"Yes," Jack told him.
"He's normally blond," Jelly added.
"Well, that explains everything," Hatter said, words basted liberally with sarcasm. The humming in the air stopped as the Scarab docked.
"Let's go," Jelly said, and they went, curving around the building and taking the covered bridge into the next building over before beginning their way down.
Jelly didn't think they would be followed: the board they'd used as a bridge would stand out immediately to any Suits wondering who had taken out the Rabbits. That would imply that they'd gone up and west, rather than south and down. It still grated though, when a few moments after they'd rescued him Jack piped up with "Where exactly are we going?"
"The shop," Hatter replied, peering over the ledgeway to see if the ladder was clear. It was, and he began to climb down it.
"And the shop is..?" Jack asked.
"Where Gryphon will be meeting us," Jelly replied, motioning to the ladder.
"Gryphon?" Jack repeated.
"Yeah, Gryphon," Jelly confirmed.
Jack looked dismayed, and didn't budge.
Hatter poked his head above the ledge. "Are you two coming?"
"Eventually," Jelly said, before turning back to Jack. "What about Gryphon?"
"He's under the impression that I'm working for my mother," Jack said.
"What gave him that idea?" Hatter asked, eyes narrowing.
"The fact that she's my mother, I believe," Jack replied drily.
"Blood is thicker than water," Hatter pointed out.
"Not in my family, it isn't," Jack retorted.
Hatter looked at him, and then at her, wholly unimpressed.
"Can we continue this conversation when we're inside, please?" Jelly asked. Before either of the two men could reply, a small boy rounded the corner on the ledgeway on the opposing side of the lacuna. Jelly glared at him until he skittered out of sight.
"Yes," Hatter agreed.
Jack looked uncertain.
"Don't make me carry you," Jelly warned him. Jack let out a small huff of annoyed breath, and followed the Tea Seller down.
The fog had largely burned off when they waited for Jack's arrival, and as they walked through the city now it was almost pleasant out. The sun shone brightly down upon them, and even if Hatter's chosen route was his most effifying one yet, her fingers didn't go numb and she even unbuttoned the jacket a little. Jack kept up better than she would have expected, stopping only to occasionally say things like "Didn't we just pass that building half an hour ago?"
"Half a what?" Hatter asked, not stopping.
"Just how long were you away for, anyway?" Jelly demanded.
"Six weeks," Jack replied. "I went to New York- it was a lot of fun."
Jelly nearly lost her footing, managing to latch onto the wall before falling down completely. Jack had been to her home- well, probably not her home exactly, but he'd been to her home city.
"You just left yesterday, on this end," she told him, pulling herself upright and ignoring the concerned look Hatter threw her.
"Really?" Jack asked, sounding surprised. "It was supposed to be longer."
"Really," Jelly told him, and nodded her head forwards to move him along. Jack didn't budge, but Hatter leaned back against the wall, clearly taking everything in.
"Just how long have you been with the Resistance?" Jack asked.
"Since yesterday," she told him.
"I'm flattered."
"Don't be."
She moved forwards; Jack began to move when she overtook him, jogging to get back in between her and Hatter, and the three of them went back on the move. They stayed that way, just long enough that Jelly was beginning to wonder if Hatter himself had gotten lost, before she realized that they were back in his neighborhood. They walked down the alley that lead to the promenade-side of his shop, and then stopped, the sound of a pretty thorough ransacking drifted towards them. Hatter rounded the corner with no small amount of trepidation, and then pulled himself up behind the phone booth.
There was a posse of Suits- Spades, from Dudley's deck, and Darrel, and a man who appeared to be wearing her father's cookie jar on his head. He had Gryphon by the collar, and was shaking him like a ragdoll.
"Have you seen him?" The jar-headed man asked.
Oh. Oh, shit.
"I don't know who you're talking about!" Gryphon replied. "I'm just here for the Tea!"
He wasn't wearing the jar on his head; he was wearing it as his head.
"Get out of here!" March snarled, and threw the Resistance man bodily off the porch. She heard Jack take a sharp breath in when he tumbled off the walkway and into the city below. Fucking fuck fuckers…
"It can't be," Hatter murmured, much more politely.
March's head, as it were, snapped up with a mechanical twist, and he turned his face towards them.
"It is," Jelly said, giving Jack a shove to get him moving. "Run."
The three of them scrambled back the way they'd come, March following at his inevitable, double-time pace. Hatter turned around and watched him approach, horrified, until Jelly reached out grabbed him by the hand. Then he shook himself out of his stupor, and made a dash for a small ramp.
"This way," he said, pulling her along.
"But-" she protested. Hatter's shop was fairly close to the water, and the way this ramp lead would trap them against it.
"Trust me," Hatter said. Jack apparently needed no such cajoling, and sped down the ramp without them, which meant that Jelly had to follow. Even if they weren't quite friends these days, he was her ticket into the Resistance, after all.
They ran down until they reached the docks, and that's when Jelly realized that Hatter did know what he was doing after all. His boat was docked at the end, waiting for them.
"That way," Hatter said, turning around again to watch the posse's approach.
"The boat," Jelly clarified for Jack's benefit, pulling Hatter forwards.
Hatter ran ahead of them both and jumped into the back, tugging at the ripcord. Jack followed close behind, tugging at the knots on the moorings. Jelly pulled out the knife from her boot, and cut them free.
"Keep your head down," she ordered, pushing Jack to the far side of the boat. She replaced the knife and drew out her gun just as March stepped off the ramp. Hatter managed to get the motor started just as she opened fire, shattering one of the assassin's new ceramic ears, and causing the rest of the Suits to dive for cover. Hatter scrambled into the driver's seat, and they sped off, leaving the posse behind, and Jelly quickly sat down before she fell off.
"What was that?" Jack asked.
"Mad March," Jelly yelled, the wind whipping her words away as soon as they were out of her mouth.
"What?"
"I said Mad March!" Jelly repeated.
"What?" Jack said again, but this time it was the sort of question that was directed at the world at large, rather than her.
"What did you think?" Jelly demanded. "That your mother was just going to let you jump through the Looking Glass without comment? The minute word reached her she ordered my father to bring him back so he could track you!"
Jack looked away. Jelly scoffed to herself.
"Right," Hatter said, slowing the boat down enough that he could be heard. "Our contact's dead, and my shop's no longer a safe zone. What are we doing next?"
"I need to get to the Resistance," Jack said.
"Same here," Jelly added quickly.
"Well, the only contacts I have are in the city, so." He stopped short as the air began to hum, and Jelly turned around so she could see a Scarab making its way towards them. "First we have to shake that royal flush. Hold on."
He turned back to the wheel and they sped off, Jack's tie whipping out and hitting her in the face as they did so.
Hatter beached the boat beneath an overhang, and made a crowflight for a pile of large, broad branches to cover the boat. Jelly helped Jack out of the boat, and then went to go help Hatter with the branches.
"Are we meant to be in the Forest of Wabe?" Jack asked as they worked.
"Yes," Hatter replied. "I don't know who that weirdo leading the posse is," Jelly shot him a skeptical look, which he ignored. "But he's got one hell of a nose for blood. And this is the place to find it."
There was a long, animalistic whine, as though in response. Jack whirled around, trying to spot the sound's origin.
"I'm assuming you've got some sort of idea how to keep that from being our blood?" Jelly asked, gesturing to where the branches had now covered the boat completely. The branches were old enough, and adequate enough, that she got the impression Hatter had put them there himself. That implied that he must have some idea how to navigate the forest.
"Of course I do," Hatter replied. "We can't shake them, and we can't fight them, so we're going to trap them. Come on."
He started up the slope; Jelly followed, tugging Jack along with her. They moved through the forest, uneven terrain causing Jack to stumble every once and a while.
"Keep it down," Hatter hissed as they came to a clearing. There was another whine, closer this time.
"What was that?" Jack asked.
"Yeah, this the part where you both find a tree you can climb," Hatter told them.
"And what are you going to be doing?" Jelly demanded.
"I'm going to be bait. Go," Hatter ordered, and then jogged off in the direction of the sound.
"Bait for what?" Jelly said, following him, Jack close behind her.
"A Jabberwock," Hatter replied. Jelly stared at him in disbelief.
"Are you insane? Do you have a death wish or something?" she cried.
"Unless you have one, I'd quit it with the questions and start running," Hatter replied.
"You're going to lead it back to the posse?"
"Yes!"
"That's your plan?"
"Yes, now would you just please-"
"It's here," Jack interrupted, pointing behind them. They both spun around, and watched as the Jabberwock revealed itself, burbling as it came.
"Run," Hatter said, and they took off, the Jabberwock following close behind.
Or at least, she and Jack did. Hatter had gone off in the opposite direction; but she really couldn't worry about that now. Jack was still having trouble navigating the terrain, and if the Jabberwock caught him, she may as well return to the Casino for her execution right then and there. Provided it didn't get her too, of course.
Sure enough, Jack's foot caught on a root before too long, and he went tumbling over into a nearby stump. The Jabberwock itself got caught between two trees, pushing forwards in an attempt to reach him. Jelly went for her gun, but before she could draw it out, Hatter appeared, and punched the creature in the face.
The Jabberwock reared back, bellowing in pain, and Jelly stared; Hatter helped Jack to his feet and then pulled her by the arm, and the three of them took off again. They managed to get several cubits away, before falling into a pit trap full of stakes.
"Ow!" Jelly exclaimed, clutching at her arm.
Hatter groaned in agreement next to her. "Everyone alright?"
"Fantastic!"Jack said, not without a touch of hysteria.
The ground shook. "Be quiet," Hatter whispered, as the Jabberwock came closer. "Stay still."
Jelly ignored that last bit and reached for her gun. The Jabberwock craned its head into the pit, burbling slightly and exuding the smell of rancid cabbages. It looked down at them, bug-eyed and open-mouthed, and then stuck itself on one of the stakes. It screamed in pain, dislodged itself, and whiffled away.
Hatter coughed, and forced himself upright. Jelly got to her knees and inspected her arm- it was bleeding sluggishly, but was more a scrape than an actual cut, which meant that it was mostly just painful. This likely had a lot to do with the way that the stake had had to rip open the knife sheath she'd had strapped to her arm before it could get to her arm itself.
They'd been lucky. Jack seemed to have missed the stakes altogether, and was now checking his pockets to see if anything had fallen out. Hatter had broken one with his fall, but judging from the way he was moving, that had resulted in bruises rather than a life-threatening injury. That was a bit odd, but that might have something to do with his ability to punch Jabberwocks away. Or maybe he was just wearing a good set of body armor.
"Vermin!" came a shout from above. Jelly looked up, and saw an elderly man in what appeared to be chainmail, armor and a very curly beard. "Saboteurs! Anarchists!"
"Um," Jelly began, but stopped when she realized that there weren't any words.
"I was this close to catching him!" the man groused. "This close!"
Jelly blinked. Nope, he was still there.
"Degenerate bagheads," the man sniffed. "Come up, so that I might have a look at you jolt-headed louts."
The three of them exchanged looks.
"How?" Jelly demanded, finally, gesturing to the steep side of the pit.
The man looked troubled for a minute, before brightening. "I'll fetch a rope," he told them, and then clanked away.
"Was that a knight?" Jelly demanded.
"He looked sort of knight-ish," Hatter replied uncertainly. Jack began to scrabble around the bottom of the pit, clearly looking for something.
"Is this what you're missing?" Hatter asked, holding up her knife.
"That's mine," Jelly said, as Jack shook his head. She twisted around, found Hatter's hat, and held it out to him. "Trade?"
"Sure," Hatter said, and they did.
Jelly looked in dismay at the ruined bit of leather that had been her arm sheath, and put before it and the knife into the jacket pocket. Jack let out a sigh of relief as his hands closed around something that looked like a small box, and the knight-ish man threw a rope down to them, knocking Hatter's hat off again in the process.
"Oi!" he shouted.
"A thousand apologies for the bad aim!" the old man replied. "Now ascend, you brutish, sheep-biting scuds!"
"Sure, why not?" Jelly said, and took hold of the rope. The sides of the pit were just soft enough that she had difficulty getting enough leverage to climb, but once she'd made it to the edge, the likely-knight helped her up with a snort of "Wayward, shard-born haggard."
He did the same for Hatter ("Mewling, ill-nurtured lewdster.") and Jack ("Impertinent, ill-bred harpy.") before clanking away again, muttering something about horses.
"Well," Jelly said. "Let's not do that again."
"No, let's not," Jack agreed swiftly. "Hatter?"
"The posse will have found a place to land and the boat by now," Hatter said. "Which would mean my plan is defunct."
"Your plan is what we're never doing again," Jack pointed out.
"It also means we've got a limited amount of time before the posse finds us," Hatter continued.
"March will probably latch onto the fact that there's a Jabberwock in the woods," Jelly said. "That will put Darrel on his guard."
"Yeah, but is March going to defer to this Darrel's judgment?" Hatter questioned.
"He's the Ten of Clubs. And it would depend on what sort of mood March was in," Jelly said. "He was probably looking to find whoever killed him, rather than Jack."
"It would also depend on what sort of mood my mother was in," Jack added.
"Worse," Jelly told him. "She was definitely one of her worse moods, when I left, and I don't think she's gotten any better since then."
"Puttocks!" the knight yelled, as he came back into view, leading two horses by the reigns. He left them by the edge of the clearing, and took another look at the pit trap they'd fallen into. "Subverters!" He made his way towards them, face reddening alarmingly. "Pig-pushing flecks!" He shook his fists in the air. "Bug-bashers!"
"Who the hell are you?" Jelly demanded.
"I am a knight!" he informed them.
"No, really?" Jack asked.
"Of course!" The old man marched towards them, and then smiled. "A White Knight, to be precise. Sir Charles Eustace Fotheringhay Le Malvois III." He drew himself up proudly, chin jutting forwards, before he realized that he hadn't done anything but confuse them more. "Who are you?"
"I'm Jelly," she replied, after a beat. "This is Hatter, and Jack."
"Have you been out here all this time?" Jack demanded.
"What do you mean by that?" Sir Charles said, pushing his face into Jack's interpersonal space.
"He means we thought all the knights were wiped out years ago," Hatter clarified.
"Well, you thought wrong, as you can see," Sir Charles drew himself up again. "I'm as fit as a butcher's dog."
"Are there any more of you?" Jack asked.
"Of course not!" Sir Charles said, sounding affronted. "My Nan used to say that if I were the only bachelor left in the world-"
"Knights," Jelly interrupted. "He meant are there any more knights around?"
"Heavens no," Sir Charles scoffed. "Are you mad? We were all wiped out years ago."
"So you dug that pit all on your own?" Hatter asked.
"You think I'm too old?" Sir Charles thundered, charging at them. All three of them began taking cautionary steps back. "Well, let me tell you something, knugface- youth is vastly overrated. I may have put on a few years, but I'm crafty. I have a very inventive mind stacked high with groundbreaking, state-of-the-art ideas. The Beehive Mousetrap, for instance." He moved away again, back towards the pit. "This here pit, as you so rudely call it," he marched back to them again "Is, in fact, my third attempt at the Gravity-Assisted Snare, Mark IV." He turned away from them once more, still projecting indignance.
"You're mad as a box of frogs," Hatter declared, reflecting her own thoughts perfectly. "How the hell have you survived?"
Sir Charles spun around, and wiggled his arms a bit. Out of the corner of her eyes, Jelly saw Hatter shake his head in utter bafflement.
"Hmm?" the knight said, as though just noticing that they were still standing there. "Oh yes. I'm a knight, and I'm an inventor, as I've said," he clanked towards them, this time at a much more sedentary pace, "Although, if I'm honest, it's strictly on a part-time basis."
"You don't say," Hatter muttered.
"And I dabble in the Black Arts, now and then," Sir Charles continued, given no indication that he'd heard the younger man, "Soothsaying, toenail readings, that sort of thing. Here let me show you! Give me your palm," he didn't wait for permission, but grabbed Hatter's hand and studied it intently, muttering to himself.
"Peachy," Hatter said, mouth pressed into a thin line. Behind his back, Jelly met Jack's eyes.
"Don't look at me," the prince said, throwing up his hands. "I'm not entirely sure if we're on the same planet anymore."
"GAH!" Sir Charles yelled, causing them all to jump. Quicker than Jelly would have believed him capable of being, he dropped Hatter's hand and grabbed Jack's. "What's that on your finger?"
"Nothing," Jack said, too quickly to be believed. He tried to jerk his hands out of the old man's grip, but the knight held fast. "It's the sacred ring, the Stone of Wonderland!"
"What?" Jelly and Hatter asked as one, rounding on him. Jack stared back at them, wide-eyed, as Sir Charles held his hand up so that the Stone glittered in the afternoon sun.
"You stole the Stone of Wonderland?" Jelly demanded.
Jack didn't reply, but instead tugged himself free of the knight. Sir Charles for his part dropped to his knees and began to moan. "It is meant to be! This time, this place-"
"You stole! The Stone! Of Wonderland!" Jelly repeated.
"Yes, I stole the Stone of Wonderland," Jack replied, straightening his tie.
"This meeting in woods," Sir Charles continued to groan.
"When?" Jelly demanded. "You weren't wearing that when we rescued you!"
Jack didn't reply.
"The stars are aligned in a cosmic ray of hope!" Sir Charles gushed.
"Did you have that on you the entire time?" Jelly pressed.
"No, I teleported back to the Looking Glass while we were running from the Jabberwock and stole it then," Jack snapped.
"Really?" Sir Charles said, sounding impressed.
"No!" Jack said. "I took it with me when I escaped. When Agent White captured me, he took it, and then when you rescued me I got it back and stuck it in my pocket. It fell out in the pit-"
"Gravity-Assisted Snare Mark IV!" Sir Charles interjected.
"And so I thought I'd put it on my finger for safekeeping, as it looks like we'll be doing a lot more running from Suits in the future," Jack finished.
Sir Charles levered himself up, chin jutting proudly forwards once more. "Jack, Hatter, Jelly. I, Sir Charles Eustace Fotheringhay Le Malvois III, White Knight and Guardian of the Curtsey, would be honored to escort you and the Stone to safety."
"That's very kind of you, Charlie," Hatter began, after a beat.
"And we accept," Jelly finished for him.
"We do?" Jack asked.
"Am I the only sane person here?" Hatter demanded.
"Look, he's one hundred and fifty years old and nuttier than a fruitcake, but he's lasted this long. He probably knows a thing or two," Jelly said. Both men stared back at her, unconvinced.
"And he has horses," Jelly pointed. "We'll cover more ground on horseback than we will on foot."
"That's correct!" Charlie said brightly. "Come along, vassals."
"Did he just call us vessels?" Hatter asked.
"I don't even," Jack began, before giving up. "Let's just get out of the forest before Mad March catches us."
There were only two horses, which meant that they would have to double up. Jelly looked at Hatter and Jack for a moment, before deciding that as entertaining at it might be to have them partner up, there was no way it wouldn't end in a gunshot. Jack rode behind Charlie; Hatter and Jelly followed behind, their horse dragging a net that obscured their prints.
"Well, they always said that there were things in this woods that defied imagination," Hatter said, after having gotten used to the swaying rhythm of Guinevere. Before Jelly could reply, Charlie burst into song.
"Hey nonny-nonny!" he called out. "Hey nonny-nonny! Heeeeeeeeey nonny-nonny!"
Jack turned around as much as he could in the saddle, and sent them a speaking look. Jelly beamed back at him, and figured Hatter was probably doing the same: at any rate, he turned back a few minutes later, looking like he was about to brain himself on the knight's armor.
"This isn't what you imagined?" Jelly joked.
"Hell no," Hatter scoffed, then, after a moment of silence added "Well, I did have a few thoughts about taking you out on a horse ride."
"Oh?" Jelly asked, surprised.
"Yeah," Hatter replied. "We'd be out on our own, and I'd ask you if you were comfy-"
"I'd point out that we were on a horse," Jelly interrupted.
"And then I'd suggest that you lean back," Hatter continued, a smile in his voice. "And let my body take the weight."
"Like this?" Jelly asked playfully, leaning back into his chest, careful not to disturb the reigns.
"Yeah," Hatter purred into her ear.
"And the wind and the rain!" Charlie sang, even more loudly.
"Of course," Hatter added. "We'd also be without the prince, Stone, and musical accompaniment, in my imagination."
"Sounds like we'd be ditching the horse soon, too," Jelly pointed out.
"You read my mind." Hatter sighed, and straightened a bit. "Back to work then?"
"I suppose so," Jelly said, straightening herself.
"Well then," Hatter said. "What's Jack's deal?"
"You're going to have to be more specific," Jelly said.
"I mean, why exactly is he here? What's his angle?"
"I don't know," Jelly replied. "I just found out he was Resistance a few hours ago."
Hatter didn't respond.
"It makes sense, though," Jelly explained. "He's not really the bloodthirsty sort, and his relationship with his parents pretty much runs the gamut from nonexistent to tumulus as a result. It's kind of why he's heir presumptive, and engaged to Duchess."
"Duchess?" Hatter inquired.
"It's-" complicated in an incredibly fucked-up way "sort of an arranged thing."
"So, he wants the throne for himself, then," Hatter guessed.
"That would be my guess," Jelly admitted.
"So he comes into contact with the Resistance, and they what? Ask him to run off to the Other Side with the Stone?"
"That seems to be what happened," Jelly said, shrugging.
"I mean, getting the Ring out of the Queen's control is one thing," Hatter said. "I can see that. Without the Ring, the Looking Glass fails. When the Looking Glass fails, the Tea fails. Without the Tea there's no quick fix, and without her quick fix the Queen falls. But why entrust it to Jack?"
"Well he would have access to it," Jelly pointed out. "Having him in the Resistance is probably a good thing, as far as setting up a government that people would recognize."
"Dodo probably wouldn't," Hatter told her.
"Color me shocked," Jelly said, deadpan.
"He's really attached to the idea of making Wonderland into a republic," Hatter explained, "With himself as the head republican, of course."
"Naturally," Jelly snorted.
They went along their way in relative silence for a time, leaving the Forest of Wabe behind and galumphing down the Fungiferous Foothills. Charlie sang, the horses plod, and finally Jelly asked "Why work for him, then?"
"Huh?" Hatter said.
"Why work for Dodo?" Jelly clarified.
"Well, he is as high up as I went in the Resistance, until yesterday," Hatter pointed out. "And he took me in after my mother died. I would say that I owed him a bit for that, but considering how he acted after my father went, I'm going to go with not so much. There are other people in the Library besides him, and some of them I do owe, so I put up with his shit more often than not."
A head of them, Charlie stopped singing, pulled his mount to the left, and pulled back a curtain of willow leaves.
"Welcome," he announced grandly. "To the City of the Knights."
Jelly looked out past the knight and prince; the view was spectacular. The building stood, weathered but still upright, on either side of a crevasse, poking out of wild woodland and a fluvial system that included a few waterfalls.
"Well, well," Hatter said quietly. "What do you know?"
"How is it still standing?" Jack asked. "I thought it burnt to the ground!"
"It's made of stone, lunkhead," Charlies scoffed. "Wood burns, cloth burns, crops burn, animals burn, and people burn." Jack flinched violently. "Stone doesn't."
Charlie led them down a hazardous looking path and into a stable. Hatter slid off of Guinevere, and then held out a hand to help her down. She took it briefly, and the followed Charlie as the knight led them on foot over the bridge and around the twisting alleys of the city.
"Before the war with the Queen of Hearts, this was the greatest city in the realm," Charlie bragged. "The Red King and his elected Council ruled Wonderland with the wisdom of the ages. We lived in harmony for a thousand years."
"And then the Hearts destroyed everything," Jack finished for him wearily.
"When the Queen came to power, she only wanted to feel the good, not the bad," Charlie confirmed. "Believe it or not, this was once the throne room. Now, all that's left is the throne."
And the skeleton of the Red King, sitting still with his crown on his head and his sword in hand. Jack swallowed audibly.
"I'm sorry for your loss," he told Charlie stiffly, not meeting his eyes.
"Yes, well," Charlie replied. "That's enough of that. Who wants to be helpful and gather wood for a fire?"
"I will," Jelly volunteered.
"You know the difference between kindling and tinder and logs?" Charlie asked gravely.
"Yes," Jelly replied. It might have been years since she'd gone with her family to Heather Hills, but she still remembered-
Oh god. Her father.
Between being chased by Mad March and the Jabberwock and finding Charlie she hadn't even thought. Was he okay? Was he out? Gryphon had promised, but Gryphon was dead, and she wasn't sure what a dead man's word was worth in the Resistance. She'd been seen. She'd shot off March's ear, for crying out loud. There was no way that would go unanswered. If he was still there, they could- they might-
"Then you can show these two miscreants how it's done," Charlie proclaimed.
"What?" Alice asked, and then gave herself a mental shake. "I mean, yeah, of course."
"Good," Charlie proclaimed, and then clanked off.
"Okay," Jelly said, turning to the men. "Let's spread out."