I'm back! I'm on holidays so I've just been writing and writing. Oh, and I've written the end (lol, I like to call it the "final showdown" ha ha) so that might be what's making it so easier to write!
Anyway, it has come to my attention it is time for some rrrrromance (thank you to Miya for reminding me – I agree)!!!! I'm just nervous to see how it turned out, so if there's any suggestions let me know!!!
Disclaimer: I disclaim all rights.
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A sharp knock on the door sent her inkstand rattling.
Victoria set aside her schedule she had been mulling over momentarily. There was much to be done before the coronation, she had realized with a level amount of panic, and she could not afford these informal interruptions that kept knocking on her door, quite literally.
She muttered something un-lady like under her breath before ordering the person in.
"My Queen," the voice adorned after they have bowed respectfully, "I bring good news."
Victoria spun around expectantly, pleased to find her current favorite soldier before her, a manic grin plastered on his face as if he were barely keeping himself from holding his good news in.
"Then tell me quickly," she scolded, her foot tapping impatiently against the marble floor. Her checklist was still attached to her fingers, and it swayed in the air as it dangled.
"My Queen," he reached for something inside the folds of his rather worn jacket, "I bring you the ashes of the Queen of Hearts." Laying in the palm of his outstretched hand was a prettily embedded flask, promising to hold what he had declared.
Victoria stared at him, her mouth agape. "You-"
"Killed her, ma'am? I most certainly did," he replied with a slight shrug. To him, it was all part of the job.
She quickly regained her composure, though unable to help the small smile that was determined to stay on her face. "Make my day, good soldier; tell me how – and do not disappoint me."
He grinned at her, as if eager to share the gory details of his venture. "Well, your Highness, I have attained her ashes by burning down the house she had been hiding in. I would have been happier if I had her body to present to you, but it could not be the case – she was burnt to a crisp. I bring her ashes to you now, a symbol of my unswerving devotion to your rule."
"That is kind of you," she crooned, stroking the flask still balancing on his hand, "Tell me where it was that you found her and how."
At that the young man made a rather unpleasant growl, as if the question had bothered him, or brought back something sinister to his mind. "Those stupid cats, your majesty, could not sniff her out. I, however, as I am a trained tracker, was able to find signs of her deep in the woods. I followed her to a small cottage where a simple, poor family lived. I believe because of their status, they had no idea who she was, and were persuaded to eventually let her in to stay with them. It was that night, ma'am, that I burnt down the house with the family of two small children, their pitiful parents and the Queen in it. I saw her myself perish as she stood by one of the windows. But those stupid cats had been searching on the complete wrong side of the woods."
Victoria might have taken offense to his slander against her cats, if had it not been for the admiration she felt when she saw the pure blood-lust that was evident in his eyes as he told her the account. This one is a true warrior, she thought to herself giddily. She envisioned him leading her armies in the final conquering of Wonderland; this soldier in front with his merciless, hunting eyes, while the rest of the bloodied pack followed. She enjoyed the image a great deal.
"And now, worthy soldier, tell me your name," she would have to remember him if any serious trouble arose.
He hesitated for a moment, before smiling at her. "I am Abaddon, at your service ma'am."
"Ah, Abaddon. The name means 'the destroyer' does it not?"
"Your Majesty is most correct, as always," he told her solemnly.
A small smile curved onto her lips knowingly. "And are you?"
He glanced up at her. "I am whatever her Majesty wishes me to be. If you wish me to be the destroyer, than I shall be the destroyer. I am your humble servant."
"Good."
He placed the flask on top of the antique writing desk she had been sitting at, as if standing it on a pedestal. He bent down to kiss one of her hands affectionately, a twinkle of mirth in his eyes.
"Yes, yes, yes," Victoria said somewhat hastily, "I know you are indebted. Now go away please – I have much to do."
"As the lady wishes," he withdrew his lips from her skin, and with a departing bow, was gone.
She waited a few minutes before clearing her voice.
"Messenger!" She called loudly at nowhere in particular.
"Yes, your majesty?" A small man's head popped round the corner of her room. She might correct all these subjects who kept referring to her as that, as her coronation had not taken place yet, but she felt no need. Besides, she had considered herself Queen of Wonderland for a very long time now.
She did not look at him as she spoke to him, instead she gazed at the spot where Abaddon had stood, a weary, tired look on her face. "I want you to gather a few men and search on the opposite side of the woods to where they are now. I want you to look for the remnant of a burnt-down cottage that should be in the heart of the woods. If you find nothing, alert me immediately."
"As you wish, your majesty," he was about to go.
"Wait," she called suddenly, and he turned back quickly, "also, make sure the lab is guarded – we wouldn't want anyone to interrupt while the testing is taking place – it would be, uh, rather...disastrous for them."
"Yes, your majesty," he combined a nod with a bow and scampered down the hallway, his small voice barking orders at all those around him. Victoria was left to stare at the small flask on her desk. After a few moments, she smiled at it hesitantly, and left it on her desk as a reminder of her success.
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Alice could no longer stand it.
She had been receiving morbid comments from the Hare, and longing looks from the Hatter all morning. You would think one had more to do considering Victoria was after her, but after failing numerous attempts to find the Queen of Hearts, and hearing from a certain flower that the very same Queen's remains were on display, all there seemed to be able to do was avoid those morbid comments and longing looks.
She had been able to persuade the Hatter to leave her in his 'special spot' alone. He had looked uncomfortable leaving her there with what he assumed was her quite unstable emotions, but gave in when she pointed out she could not possibly reach her home, as the glass wall stood as strong as anything. At least, he had been able to reason with himself, she would be safe there. That comforting thought was what let him leave her alone, only to depart with giving her another one of those looks. She had sighed heavily in return.
So here she was; able to stare out at the expanse that was once her life. She looked back at it now – the unchanging lawn, the old, monotone house, the occasional gardener who walked by, though never seeing her in return. She wondered at it all, had it always been that...boring?
She had been staring at the un-touchable grass in front of her when she spied a familiar figure walking along the other side of the glass in the garden. Her breath caught, though in more surprise than pleasure. Arthur? She tried to think of a reason why he should be there when she so obviously wasn't.
He was right there; an arms-length away, well, had not that wall been there. He stopped almost directly in front of her, his back turned to her as he checked his wrist watch every few minutes. Alice watched, bewildered, as she tried to guess who he might be waiting for.
Then she saw her. There was a girl, a young woman actually, coming straight for them. She was walking toward him at a slow, lady-like pace, though Alice wandered had it not felt awkward as they just stared at each other; Arthur watching the girl come toward him at an agonizing pace. Why can't she just run? Alice thought to herself angrily. Her anger increased when she was able to make out the features of the girl. She was most definitely not a relation of Arthur's, like she had previously suspected, or a relation of Alice herself. Her red-brown hair was pinned elegantly to the top of her head in tight ringlets, and she was holding a pink and white lacy parasol above her head, although winter had settled in most readily and the sky was completely gray. She was dressed to match; a white and pink frilly Sunday dress that dived down the front, leaving ample for the eye to see. Alice felt uncomfortable even looking at it, but the girl obviously didn't mind – perhaps she always wore such revealing, low-cut dresses. The thought of her coming to meet Arthur in her own garden made Alice's teeth grit. What business did Arthur have with her? And in her own garden, no less!
The girl eventually made it to him, a playful smile on her baby-pink lips. "Arthur," she curtsied very low, saying his name with a good deal of pleasure.
"Amy," he kissed her hand delicately, the same playful smile on his lips. She giggled.
"What a huge garden you've brought me to! Who owns this place, Arthy?"
Arthy? Alice thought, a little disturbed. She returned to watching the pair as they stood practically nose-to-nose, talking.
He smirked, his finger poking the tip of her nose. "Family friend."
"And are they here?" She asked innocently, though you could see the way her eyes wondered whether they could be being watched from one of the windows of the tall house. Alice had to give it to her, she was good, but she had no idea of just how right her suspicions were.
"No," he shook his head grinning, obviously knowing what she meant by the question, "they've gone away for the week to enjoy a holiday by the sea-side."
She giggled again, and Alice might have admitted she would have had a sweet, pleasant voice had it not been for the fact this Amy girl was flirting with her fiancée. "And how do you know these rich people, Arthy?" Amt drew a line down his cheek bone with one long, perfectly shaped fingernail.
Alice froze. She was expecting this girl to be annoying, but not so flirtatious. Surely she must know this man is engaged? She listened carefully, anxious to hear what his answer would be.
"I used to be engaged to their daughter," he grinned down at Amy, no shame in his tone or eyes.
Used to be, Alice thought, outraged, used to be? How long had she been gone for – it could not be that long, she still saw the same newly planted rose-bush from where she stood. It had barely grown an inch. How long had it taken him to give up on her? Alice glared at Arthur, wishing the wall would evaporate so she could slap him on the face.
Amy laughed heartily at this bit of trivia, before kissing him playfully on the cheek, her fingers walking up his arm. "I love the way you so....flighty. How many engagements have there been? Six? Seven?" She laughed again, planting a sloppy kiss on his mouth.
"But it's different this time," he put on a straight face, though the scandalous grin behind it was obvious. Well, maybe not to Amy, who smile sweetly at him.
"Thats right," she cooed, "I'm going to reform you. We're in love!" She planted another kiss under his jaw. He knotted his fingers in her hair.
Alice left, not wanting to see anymore.
She felt sick; not entirely betrayed – as she never really did seek Arthur's love, and now apparently, never had it. Her finger felt heavy again with the rock he had given her as she wondered how many other women wore the same ring as he kissed them. Nausea climbing in her stomach, she slid it off her finger and threw it into the bushes, a tear she had been battling to keep in slithered down her cheek. She gasped; not wanting to cry over such a petty insult, though not really being able to help it. It hurt; everything hurt. She ran back along the path, her vision blurred so that she ran straight into someone's back and landed on the ground with a thump.
She muffled some sort of blunt apology without looking up. Not wanting to get up; she curled into a ball, allowing a few tears to slid out. No more than that, she tried to tell herself, no more. Her tear ducts didn't agree, and she found herself sobbing as she was curled up – her knees to her chest and her face hidden. The sobbing grew harder, and she began to gasp as she felt more and more hysterical. What would she do now? She could no longer go back the life she expected she could live back at home; it simply did not exist anymore, in fact, it never really had. But she could not stay here either – she would definitely be killed. She was torn, realizing whatever choice she made would end her up miserable. She cried harder, wondering how it could have ended up like this.
Then she felt herself being lifted up from under the arms to her two feet, and a kind hand brush against her cheek as she his her face in her hands. She heard some kind of mumbled assurance, and realized with a pang of hopelessness it had been the Hatter. Damn it, she cried to herself bitterly, of all people. She hated him; she hated this place.
She made a move to run; to just get out of here and escape. She could feel the madness of this place choking her, and the short, painful gasps that were escaping from her throat as she longed for air. She couldn't stay here any longer. Dreams were for children; and they were beautiful as long as they were temporary, but to be stuck in a world that gnawed at your soul and chipped away at your heart would bind you to insanity forever. There had to be another way. There simply had to be another way. Her feet made a leap and she began to turn to bolt off into the distance. To run somewhere – anywhere.
But she was jolted back as a strong hand grabbed her forearm and hauled her backwards into a firm chest. She stumbled as she almost fell, and was once again caught by his other hand as he brought her back up. His hands turned her quickly, then crushed her against the firm chest into a suffocating embrace. She made a move to push against his chest, but he would have none of it. She beat her hands against his chest, slapping them and hurling them at him continually – but she might as well have used feathers to push him back. She pushed and punched as silent tears streamed down her cheeks in all her agony. She was not one to usually cry; but when she did, her heart would drown in the tears.
"Alice," his voice was pleading. He tried to move a hand to the back of her head, but she managed to slap it away.
"Get away from me!" Alice cried against his chest, her hands not giving up as she continued to beat him down. He never flinched, though, just looked down in pain at the hysterical girl in his arms as she did all she could to hurt him.
"Alice-" he sighed, trying to calm her outcries.
"No! No! Don't even touch me! I hate you! I hate you!" Her angry tears dampened his shirt as the venom in her voice dampened his heart. This was too close. Too close for Alice, and she hated it. It was no lie. The hate was consuming her nerves. Her mind was a blur. Was she even saying what she was supposed to be saying? She had no idea. She continued to beat against his chest as he held her firmly against him.
"Please, Alice, just-"
"NO! Don't you see? I HATE you! I always have – I never loved you. Not from the first moment I saw you, and not now! Why don't you just leave me alone! I hate you! I HATE YOU!" Tears were streaming freely down her face now, but the Hatter saw the intention behind her anger, and it made his eyes water, too. Instead of letting his arms drop, he drew her in closer, letting her head rest against his shoulder.
"No!" Her protests were muffled by his shoulder, but he could still hear the vehemence in her screams, "No! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!" She began to choke on her words as she collapsed against him, her screams so pitiful they made him cry quietly.
"He hates me!" she screamed into his coat, "He hates me! He hates me! He never loved me! He HATES ME!" She sobbed. "He never loved me! Not once! He's always hated me – from the first moment he saw me, and still now! He hates me!"
"Shhh, Alice," he stroked her hair, warming her shaking body with his touch, "It's going to be alright. I'm here."
"I don't know what to do," she whispered into his shoulder. Her tears had dried, but her heart had drowned. She took a step back from him, turning once again to walk away from him. She needed to get out; away. She needed air; actually, she needed a lot more than that.
No, was all the Hatter thought as her reached out to hastily grab her forearm yet again.
Alice surprise was beyond words as that hand pulled her with alarming speed back toward him and straight into his soft lips.
Her first instinct was to step back and give him a hard slap across the face. But his lips were so warm, and his arms so inviting, she found herself melting against him, her rational side drowned under the warmth that was the Hatter. She was amazed at how she could actually taste him. His agony and longing were evident, and she could feel his hope rekindling as her hands rested gently against the back of his neck and was drawn against the length of his body. His own hands were circled around her waist, holding her against him like she was his life boat out in the rough seas. Their lips molded to his infinite surprise, as she allowed him to deepen the kiss, feeling with a pleasant shiver how she warmed every part of his body. And then, all too soon, it was over.
She pulled away, her arms still around his neck as she bent her face away from him, hoping he wouldn't notice the appetizing pink that had coloured her cheeks right through till they were a bright red.
"We should do that again sometime," he joked happily. He was flying, his mood as radiant as the sun in the sky as he grinned down at her.
She only blushed redder and mumbled something incomprehensible, wondering what she had done and what that meant for them now.
So, thanks to the Hatter, she couldn't look at him for the rest of the day without her cheeks turning a devastating pink. The Hare thought it was the most hilarious thing that had happened in years. And the Hatter, well, the Hatter would only smile, basking happily in the memory of the way her arms had encircled him protectively.
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"My Lady," the messenger was at her door, leaning against the frame hesitantly, "the soldier speaks the truth. There is indeed a burnt cottage, with five charred bodies dead on the site."
Victoria jumped up from her seat, her eyes bright. "The-The soldier said there were no bodies. At least, that brining that hag's body to me would be impossible."
The messenger nodded, unsurprised. "He speaks true, your Majesty. Although three of the five bodies were slightly identifiable – two small children and a man, there were another two corpses that were just burnt so bad they could not even be moved. If we were to have attempted to bring them back, they would have turned to powder in our hands. They are two lumps of coal, basically, and one, of course, is the Queen."
"I see," she paused, "thank you. You may announce to the people that the Queen of Heart's ashes will be on display all of this week till the day of my coronation in the royal museum."
He glanced briefly at the flask still sitting on her desk. "And shall I take it from you now, your Highness?"
She glared at the suggestion. "You ignorant fool! Do not even touch the remains. Find someone else's ashes and put that on display. I want these for my own personal keeping."
He stared at her, slightly confused.
"Well go on!" She scolded him, "get to it!"
He ran out the door, tripping over his own heels as he went. Victoria rolled her eyes.
Queen.
She would be Queen.
A bright, plastic smile paraded her face until she realized something else was missing besides the champagne and silk still needed for the coronation.
Alice.
An animalistic snarl ripped through her chest at the thought of the girl. She tried to calm herself. It would be done sooner all later. She just wanted her life sooner than the later option. Besides, she was no real threat just yet. Alice still knew nothing of her plans, and as long as it stayed this way, she wouldn't dare popping her pretty little head up to cause havoc. The Queen is officially dead, so she wouldn't be putting any thoughts into her head about becoming Queen, either. Victoria relaxed. She could take her time in killing Alice – she could take her time and enjoy the experience. As long as everything stayed according to plan, that is.
As long as everything stayed according to plan.
So by the end of the third day, Victoria had settled the plans for her coronation, Alice had gone to bed confused, Hatter had babbled every detail to the Hare happily, the Hare had listened happily, Victoria's scientists were busy perfecting a new project, and the Queen of Hearts sat smiling to herself.
But none were as pleased as Abaddon, who was perfecting his own plans.
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Ohhhhh, bet you guys are all wondering whats going on there (or maybe you all guessed it and I'm out of the job. Darn.)
Ha ha! Romance! Kisses kisses kisses for Alice and Hatter! I'm sorry if it wasn't much – I'm not very good at writing them, but it was needed by popular demand (a special thank you to Miya for reminding me that it was about time we had some love spread over this sandwich)!!
Have you figured it out yet? Any theories? Come on, give us your guesses!!
Some special Thank-yous:
Steamboatwillie1928: Hee Hee, reading your reviews for some reason always makes me burst out laughing – they're just so funnily random! Yeah, a pocket sized hatter would be awesome, just think of all the possibilities....muah ha ha ha.....Thanks!
DangermouseDavs: Thanks so much for the review! It made me feel better right away! Good to know your plotting your theories! By the time this story is over, I'd be really interested to hear what they were!!! (And they will probably be so brilliant and I'll be like: 'damn, why didn't I end it like that?!) and yeah, I love his blunt madness, too!!!
LizzySkellington: Yeah! Alice and Hatter forever! I totally agree – they're so cute. Lol, I keep getting these urges to couple Victoria with Cheshire cat but its just sooooo wrong!!!! (Shudders)
Review?