Thanks to emeraldonyxdragon, who I am especially glad that you have continued reading this even though you are not an Alice in Wonderland fan. It really means a lot to me that you're sticking with this. And also, thanks to ElTangoDeRoxanne, who helps me when I am indecisive, and fallacies.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
"Balthier! What are you doing?" Alice hissed, not believing what she had just heard. A Card Soldier clamped chains about her hands and hobbles about her feet, adjusting the cuffs to accommodate her large ankles and wrists.
"Helping the person I love," he said cynically, looking up at her with hard, silver eyes. Alice blinked— she was sure they had been gold!
"And help her you shall, for I do not let good deeds go unrewarded," the Red Queen held out her hand, and Balthier, on one knee, kissed her ring. "You may rise!"
"My lady, we had an agreement. I would bring you Alice, and you would release Fran. I am expecting you to honor that pact."
"Don't worry your handsome face over it," the Queen dismissed him with a wave of her hand. "I'll give her back after Alice's execution."
"You are most kind." Balthier bowed.
"How could you do this? I trusted you, you heartless wretch! You betrayed me!" Alice jerked her hands from the grasp of the two soldiers holding them. They made to grab her again, but Iracebeth held up a finger.
"I want to see this," she said, smiling sweetly.
"Your words are more true than you could ever imagine, for heartless I am indeed, in every meaning of the word," Balthier purred. "And as for your charges of betrayal? I never betrayed you, Alice; I was never your ally. As you said— we are business partners. I am a pirate, and I look ever and always to my own profit."
The Red Queen wiped fake tears away. "I could not have said it better myself," she said with feigned emotion. "Now take Alice 'Um' Kingsleigh and lock her away. In two days' time, we will have a public execution!"
"Two days?" McTwisp asked. "Why two days?"
"I imagine all of you would like to say goodbye. I want her to see her friend's faces and weep because she will never see them again." Iracebeth said wickedly.
As Alice was led away, Balthier called out to her one more time.
"Oh, and Alice?" she turned, giving him the most heated gaze she could muster. He lounged against a solid hedge, his strangely silver eyes hooded languidly, but glinting with chilling malice. He reminded her of a cat— no, not a cat. Chessur was not as poisonous as this. He did not have the sharpness or the teeth to with which to bite and rip into her soul. Balthier was a serpent that had slithered next to her and whispered sweet words to her from under the flowers, and when she had reached with her hands to see the speaker, he had sunk his fangs deep inside. "Do you remember when you asked me to shoot down the Jub-jub Bird?" he continued.
"What of it?" she narrowed her eyes, and conversely, his grin widened cruelly.
"I never miss. Not on accident."
"You could have hit the Jub-jub Bird," Alice whispered in understanding. "You were against me from the start."
Iracebeth of Crims had been thoughtful enough to put Alice in a cell with the Mad Hatter, though Alice suspected the Queen thought she was being punishing rather than kind. What a twisted being she was, and such twisted beings she had surrounded herself with.
"Why is it that whenever I see you, you are always too small or too tall? So, it is Balthier that has condemned us to the executioner's blade, eh?" Tarrant stroked his white chin. "I can't say that was entirely unexpected."
"What do you mean?" Alice asked. "He had fooled me entirely, even unto the end."
"Do you remember what I told you about muchness?" The Hatter asked as he climbed to his feet.
"You said it was not something that one could see, but easy to tell if lost. Are you saying…?"
"Yes, I am saying I think he has lost his muchness, too. It has not really affected him like it has you. It hasn't really made him less than he really is, but I think it's done strange things to his mind." Tarrant said, as if he was one to lecture about losing minds.
"I noticed. He calls me Princess sometimes, and talks to someone I cannot see. Multiple people, actually." Alice said sourly.
"Ghosts, perhaps?" the Hatter cocked his head.
"Perhaps. Let us stop talking about him— thinking of him ruins the joy I feel at finding you sound, if not safe."
"For the moment, at least." Tarrant said quietly. "Alice, the Knave tried to torture me. He tried to get me to tell where you were. But I didn't say anything. I said nothing, nothing, not a word! Ha, you'll have to try harder than that, Illosovic Stayne! You'll never force me to—!"
"Hatter!" Alice grabbed his shoulders. "It's alright. You're here, not a head floating in the Queen's horrid moat. We still have a chance."
"No, Alice. You don't understand," the Mad Hatter croaked. "You're here, locked in the dungeon. You're the only one who can kill the Jabberwocky and end this oppressive reign. And the Vorpal sword is locked away somewhere here, too— the only thing that the only one who can kill the Jabberwocky can use. Frabjous Day is coming, and Mirana of Marmoreal, without her champion, will be the next one to lose her head."
He stopped speaking at the sound of footsteps and someone talking. Alice felt her blood curdle in disgust.
"Leave me alone. I've had quite enough of you— and you, too. Hm? Are all of you turning against me, now? This is mutiny!" Balthier strode down the prison corridor. The prisoners cowered in the backs of their cells as he passed, and soon, Tarrant and Alice saw why.
There was blood on his face, mostly on his lips and chin, though there was a smear of it on his right cheekbone. There were a few stains on the front of his vest, which was white with elaborate red hearts, and his sleeves were torn and soaked through with the black and red liquid. His eyes, still inhumanly cold and silver as moonlight, roved in every direction, sometimes focusing just to his right, then shifting to something in the upper left field of his vision. Suddenly, he stopped and whirled to his left.
"I know that it's amoral! But do I care?" Balthier snapped. "Until you have lived and breathed in my dark double-dealings, as you call them, and have partaken of the filth until the very corruption of humanity runs in your veins like it does in mine, you have no right to be chastising me like a mother hen! What? Oh, I see. Bully for you— now get you gone."
He stopped in the middle of his angry speech and stared about with confused, shadowed eyes. "Hm…? They're gone…" he rubbed his forehead, shutting his eyes and breathing hard. "Not again… not again…" He ran for a flight of stairs leading deeper into the prison, and the last Alice heard from him was a name, so quiet it could easily have been mistaken for a breath of wind that swirled in his wake as he rushed by her.
"Fran."
"He's quite insane, you know." Chessur purred as Alice stroked his large, tabby head.
"Oh, yes." The Hatter agreed.
"Positively barking."
"Absolutely."
"Madder than the Mad Hatter."
"No!" Tarrant gasped. "I'm not mad, far from it. I offered to make the Red Queen hats, true, and I started, but— but! I had other intentions. I wanted—oh, how I wanted! I wanted to murder her! But I didn't Alice, and I had the perfect chance! Alice, what is the hatter with me? I don't want to believe it, but have I truly gone mad?"
Alice patted his head, seeing as she was now tall enough to use him as an armrest. "Oh yes, certifiable, round the bend." Tarrant's face fell, and she took him by the shoulders. "But I will tell you a secret: all the best people are."
Chessur gave her a wide, snaggle-toothed grin. "Take that as a comment, Tarrant. By the way, I heard you lot are going to be executed."
"Two days." Alice said quietly. "The Queen wanted to give us time to say our goodbyes."
"She's quite pleased with herself. She is considering replacing the Knave with Balthier. The only thing that's stopping her is that she absolutely adores Stayne to no end." Chess rolled in the air to allow Alice to scratch just behind his ear, his face one of rapturous bliss. "They are both terribly talented men, of course, but Balthier is much more subtle— and we have now all experienced how deep his poison can penetrate before it is detected. In fact, he has even succeeded where Stayne failed. You're here, about to be executed."
"I do not need to be reminded." Alice said glumly.
"But that does remind me. I do so love your hat, Tarrant. Perhaps you would consider bequeathing it to me?" Chess vanished, reappearing behind the Hatter.
"No! It's my hat. And I would like to go out looking my best." Tarrant grasped his top hat closer.
"But I would wear it to all the best occasions! Come now, will you not reconsider?"
"The best occasions, you say?" Tarrant grinned malevolently, tapping the top of his hat pensively. Alice recognized the amber glint in his neon green eyes.
"What are you thinking, Hatter?" she asked, a smile forming on her own face. Suddenly, his eyes darted behind her, and he adopted an expression of fear, though the blazing orange of his eyes deepened. The Cheshire Cat flattened his ears against his head and disappeared.
"Nothing, nothing at all!" he stammered, and Alice whirled.
"Why are you here?" she whispered, fire burning in her stomach. Balthier was fumbling with the lock, in a state of extreme agitation. His hair, normally in perfect rows, had been tousled by the run of his nervous hands. His face was not cleaned of the blood, nor had he changed his vest.
"Alice— Alice! I'm sorry— I should not have brought you here," he gulped as he slid two thin pieces of metal into the keyhole and began picking the lock. "I never should have taken her offer. Gods, if only I knew what I was getting into…" he wiped the blood off his cheek with a sweat-slicked hand, gazing at it with an expression akin to horror. "I killed a little girl today, Alice. She was six years old. The Queen was torturing me… she was trying to find out why Fran was so important. I wasn't going to tell— it's so important, she mustn't know… Stayne cut my wrists and bled me dry. And then he put the child there in the same room…" Balthier looked wildly about him. "Stop touching me."
In an instant, the Hatter was at the bars. His hand snaked through the holes in the grate and caught the pirate about the throat. The lock picking materials clattered to the floor.
"Ye have no right to be talkin' to her, ye bloody fake toff," he drawled, voice harsh. "Ye can talk to me, though I'm not feelin' rather inclined to listen."
"Go ahead. Do it. Kill me. I don't care." Balthier wheezed. The Hatter's grip tightened.
"Ye filthy lit'l weasel. Fight back! Fight, I dare you!" Tarrant snarled. Balthier's breath came in explosive gasps, but he did not lift a finger to remove Tarrant's hand.
"I can't," he said, in a voice that was almost a sob. "I can't hurt you. You remind me too much of him."
Tarrant's eyes narrowed. "Who? Who are you talking about, or in the name of Mirana I shall kill you now!"
"It doesn't matter, but you look just like him. Spitting image of an old friend of mine, just a little more pale. Oh… Highness, please, don't torture me anymore, I can't stand it. I'm trying to make things right, don't you see?" Balthier's eyes were locked on something just over Alice's head. Just as she expected, there was nothing there. "Ashe… you were right about me. Three hundred years has made me cruel if I've fallen this low."
With a snort of disgust, Tarrant released him. His eyes faded back to their bright green, and he sighed. "I can't do it."
"I didn't think you could." Balthier gasped, picking up his lock picks and setting back to work.
"Why are you freeing us? It is your fault we are here in the first place." Alice said, and he winced at her jab.
He jiggled the lock picks impatiently. "I have been betrayed. That fox Iracebeth does not intend to honor our agreement."
"The agreement where you would give her me and she would return your Fran to you?" Alice asked, grasping the bars.
"That was the contract, yes, but when I went to tell Fran I turned you in, she was gone! I followed the scent— they moved her to a much more secure dungeon. The guards were talking amongst themselves: Iracebeth intends to execute Fran with you." With a snap, the lock picks broke. His hands were shaking too much to pick efficiently.
"I thought I should warn you; Underland locks are more difficult than they look." Chessur said, gliding in lazy circles around Balthier's head. The pirate growled something uncouth under his breath and spoke a short string of words in a hissing, sibilant tongue, tracing a pattern on the lock face with his finger. In a matter of seconds, ice and frost formed on the lock, and he jerked the entire thing off. The door swung open. At the same time, so did the dungeon gate.
Illosovic Stayne, the Knave of Hearts, strolled into the prison block, an arrogant grin on his face. Balthier, already extremely distraught and anxious, paled, no doubt remembering their last encounter in the torture chamber. Tarrant, who had also experienced Stayne's hospitality, laughed nervously, a high-pitched twitter.
"I've caught you at last, Balthier Sky Pirate. I have the condemning evidence. The loyal Balthier, betraying his Queen!" Stayne laughed. Balthier took a deep breath, seeming to gather himself together, and when he opened his eyes once more, he seemed to have found something of his old self.
"I have no idea what you're talking about. We were business partners, nothing more," he said haughtily. "I have betrayed no one."
"That excuse is getting old. You released the prisoners. You've double-crossed her."
"An eye for an eye. She refused to give me Fran, and I can take Alice away again."
"That depends on if I will allow you to take me away." Alice said coldly, using her height to attempt cowing the pirate into submission. "What reasons have I to trust you? You have already broken that trust once."
"It seems the spider has caught itself in its own web!" Stayne laughed again, and Balthier turned to her, looking up to meet her eyes.
"Alice, I apologize for my actions earlier— there was no other way. You are looking at a man at his wit's end. You have no reason to trust me, I understand, but I'm trying to make it up to you."
"So you do have a conscience, though it seems to be no more than a speck." Alice said quietly, tapping her chin. Balthier inclined his head.
"I sometimes wish I did not."
"You can redeem yourself by helping me get the Vorpal Sword. You have been in the Palace for a while, even before we met, I assume. You must know where it is."
Balthier's eyes wandered away from her, and he frowned. Alice snapped his fingers in front of his face, calling his attention back from the phantoms he constantly did battle with in his mind.
"I know where the Vorpal Sword is," he admitted at last. "And I have the means of retrieving it. It was Fran's last gift to me before the Red Queen moved her."
"And do you think I will really stand by while you three plot to steal the only means with which to kill the Queen's beloved Jabberwock?" the Knave scoffed, drawing his sword. "I think not."
Balthier's demeanor changed, his hesitance and tension replaced with cold steel and a serpent's venomous grin. He held his wrist up to his face, licking away the thin crust of blood that had accumulated over the deep cuts the Knave had put there. "I was hoping you'd say that, Illosovic Stayne."
Smash.