Chapter One:
"Oh…my…hell," Christiane whispered. She turned to Sparrow. "Mr. Sparrow, dock us at the mainland."
Sparrow dropped his small chisel in surprise. "Yer not serious, are yeh?" he asked.
"I'm quite serious," she replied. "I need to go ashore for a spell." Nodding, Sparrow got to his feet and went to the helm, pushing Mr. Cotton aside. He guided the ship closer to the mainland in the Adventureland dock, but he didn't make berth. Rolling her eyes, Christiane stood on the thick side rail and jumped to the dock when it was close enough, having to roll into her landing. Brushing herself off, she began walking through Adventureland towards Fantasyland, praying that certain individuals would be there and able to help her figure out what was going on.
"Run! Mad snake!" The shout came from her right and just before she was tackled by a well-built American man, who pulled her into a shadowy alcove between buildings. "Are you all right?" he asked after the enormous snake had passed them by. Christiane nodded before pushing him off her. She was then allowed a clear look at his face. It was Indiana Jones. "You're from the ship, aren't you?" he asked, taking the time to examine her carefully. "Captain Harley, right?"
"Yes," she answered, trying to stretch out her shoulder that had been pinned in a rather uncomfortable manner. "Thank you for trying to smash me, Dr. Jones." She resumed her walking. To her irritation, Jones followed her. "Do you need something?" she asked him, looking at him sideways.
"No, I'm just bored," he replied, having a bit of an issue making his way through the characters and hosts that seemed to have literally become their roles. "May I accompany you?"
"If you like," she said lightly, picking her way through the people that seemed to be able to easily ignore her. Losing her patience with the crowd, she walked over to the nearest building and jumped, catching hold of the rafter directly above her head and hauled herself onto the building's roof. She looked down at Jones. "Coming?" she asked him, smirking slightly with her hands on her hips. With a little difficulty, Jones scrambled up the building and onto the roof. The two walked along the rooftops towards Fantasyland, Jones having an insane amount of difficulty when it came to jump from roof to roof. When he slipped the third time, Christiane said, "Look, you're making this very difficult. Why don't you go the long way and meet me at Toad Hall if you're that bent on going with me?"
He nodded and gratefully dropped to the solid ground. She smiled to herself. For being the great Indiana Jones, he's not the greatest roof crawler, she thought, continuing on her way. When she was crawling over the Castle's walls, she came across a small slate grey kitten looking dolefully up at her. "Hello there," she said, kneeling to look at him better. "What's your name?"
The kitten cocked its head at an angle and replied in very clear French, "Je ne parle pas anglais."
"Oh, French," she said. She took French back in her freshman year at UCLA, but she wasn't sure how well she would remember it. "Um… Quel est votre nom?" she tried, hoping she was conjugating properly for the poor thing to understand her.
"Mon nom est Berlioz," he replied, approaching her cautiously. "Je ne peux pas trouver ma mère. Pouvez-vous m'aider? Je suis effrayé."
She didn't really understand the last bit. She knew it was something about not being able to find his mother, but he looked scared and she couldn't ignore a scared kitten. "Venez avec moi, Berlioz," she said, holding out her hand. The little kitten sat in her palm. She carefully lifted him to her shoulder where he sat perched, looking very important. "Coup dessus fortement."
Berlioz dug his little claws into the leather of her vest and secured himself before Christiane continued on her way. She carefully climbed down the side of the Castle where she knew the Snow-White ride was, but it seemed to just be the Castle Smithy. Christiane was still trying to wrap her mind around the strangeness of the park, so she simply dismissed the fact that the Castle was a real, functioning fortress. And that she was carrying a talking French kitten on her shoulder. Utilizing her practiced agility and dexterity, she dodged the people who happened to be so intent on their work or their own thoughts that they didn't see her as she made her way towards Toad Hall. As she approached it, Berlioz let out a frightened screech, saying, "Je ne peux pas être ici! Monsieur Toad m'effraye!" With that, he jumped from Christiane's shoulder and disappeared quickly from sight.
"Berlioz! Où vous allant?" she called after him. But he didn't stop and she couldn't find him. Which was just as well as Jones was fighting his way past the seven dwarfs towards her. "Took you long enough," she said to him. "I've been waiting long enough to make friends with a French cat. Not sure where he went, though."
"Well, what're we doing here?" he asked, looking around him uncomfortably. "I don't particularly like being here. The people here are strange."
"Says the man running from snakes," Christiane muttered, leading the way to the Mad Hatter Shoppe. It was in the same place as it had been six days earlier, much to her relief. She entered the shop and saw who she assumed to be the March Hare sitting at the counter. She hesitated before speaking to him, remembering him to be most mad during the month of March, but she remembered it was the middle of September. "Hallo, excuse me," she said to him. He stopped picking at the fluff in his left ear and looked up at her. "I'm looking for Mr. Theophilus. Is he about?"
"He's upstairs," the Hare said distractedly. He returned to picking at the fluff in his ear as Christiane and Jones ascended the stairs to the upper room.
There were three doors leading from the upper landing. One was open and Christiane could hear someone humming from the room inside. She peered inside and saw the Hatter sitting at his work desk. His back was to her so she couldn't tell if it was Brian or this strange realm's version of the Hatter. "Mr. Theophilus?" she asked, grateful she remembered the Hatter's name from the book and from when she played Alice in her early days at the park.
The Hatter turned slowly at the sound of her voice. Upon seeing his face, her heart sank. It wasn't Brian. But a huge silly grin spread across his face. "Well, hello there," he said. He stood and crossed to Christiane's side and gave her an up and down examination. "And what can I do for you today, lovely lady?" He looked at her clothes while she wondered why, with the scar that was probably stretching across her features as it was part of her character, he would call her lovely. "Tri-corn hat!"
He bounded off in the direction of a large pile of hats. But Christiane caught him quickly by the arm and stopped him so quickly, he almost fell flat on his rump. "I'm sorry, Mr. Theophilus," she said. "The hat isn't for me; I don't wear hats." She grabbed Jones from the hallway and pulled him into the room. "It's for him. Dr. Jones needs a new fedora." She pushed Jones towards the eager Hatter then quickly left the shop without drawing attention to herself.
Outside the shop, Christiane took a moment to gather her bearings as any good sailor—pirate or not—would do. She was almost instantly distracted by the sight of a pretty young blonde woman walking by her. Christiane stopped in her tracks so suddenly that another young woman—a brunette—bumped into her. "Excusez-moi," the brunette said in beautiful, flawless French before attempting to continue on her way.
"Pardonnez-moi," Christiane said, quickly stopping her. "Parlez-vous anglais?" she asked in halting French. The girl nodded. "That blonde in the purple—who is she?"
"Oh, that's Alice Liddell," the girl said. "She's dating the local hatter. Odd pair, that."
"Oh…" Christiane said quietly. "I see."
"Are you all right?" the girl asked, a gentle hand on Christiane's shoulder. The Pirate lass nodded, smiling at the French girl. "I shall talk to you later, then. I must attend to my bookshop. Au revoir!" She waved and walked away around the large horse corral where the King Arthur Carousel usually stood toward a small shop on the very edge of the courtyard.
"Au revoir," Christiane said quietly. Then her heart leapt into her throat when she felt a large hand on her arm. She spun around, her hand clutching her sword hilt tightly. She came face to face with an incredibly old man with long silver hair and beard, silver spectacles resting on his nose. He wore swirling purple robes and pointed hat that curved toward the end. A small owl sat on his hat, fast asleep. "Master Merlin, Lord Enchanter?" she gasped, relieved he wasn't Captain Hook or Maleficent or some other such evil villain.
He nodded. "Christiane Greene," he said after examining her face closely for several long, silent minutes. She nodded nervously, wondering how he knew her name, then quickly dismissing the quandary—he's Merlin, of course he knew her name. "You must use the name Mary Harley," he told her in a quiet, low voice. "And eat this." He handed her a candy in a bright blue wrapper.
She took it, but didn't unwrap or eat it. "What is it?" she asked him.
"It's a candy."
"Yes, I realise it's a candy, Lord Enchanter," she said, exasperated with the habit of pointing out the obvious he shared with Brian's Mad Hatter. "What does it do?"
"Oh! Well, it helps you speak different languages," he explained. "Most people in this realm speak English, but there are some whose first language is something different. The younger people can only speak their first language. But the older people can speak English as well. But they are most comfortable speaking their native language. This will help you speak it. It won't translate it; it helps you become fluent in it until you've mastered it on your own."
She unwrapped the candy and popped it into her mouth. It dissolved instantly on her tongue. And it left an aftertaste of strawberries. "So, say I wanted to talk to Princess Jasmine in Arabic," she said thoughtfully. "I would be able to speak to her in Arabic because I ate the candy?" Merlin nodded, looking pleased with his new student.
"Hold your hands out in front of you," he instructed. She did, holding her palms up. He closed her hands together and after a moment, she felt several very cold objects appear in her grip. Merlin allowed her to open her hands to discover she was holding several glass marbles. "Do not lose these," he warned her, tapping her nose. "You may need these someday."
She slipped them into her extra pouch on her belt and looked up to see Merlin walking away. "Wait! Master Merlin!" she called after him. "What do the marbles do?"
"Don't lose them!"
"But what do they do?"
"They're Magic; don't lose them!" And then Merlin was gone.
The King and his men
Stole the Queen from her bed
And bound her in her bones…
Mary sang quietly to herself as she lay on the roof of the hat shoppe, watching the stars as they twinkled above her head that night. She didn't want to return to her ship, but she didn't have anywhere to stay, so she opted for a night under the stars instead.
Hey, ho, haul together—
Hoist the colours high.
Heave, ho, thieves and beggars,
Never shall we die.
She continued to hum the song (she couldn't remember the lyrics) as she heard light footsteps on the cobbled street. "Mademoiselle?" Mary sat up and looked down at the young woman addressing her. It was the brunette from the morning in the square. "Master Merlin told me you have nowhere to stay," she said, climbing the nearby tree to come level with Mary. "I would feel much better if you would come stay with me until you've found a more permanent arrangement."
"Thank you for the offer, Mademoiselle," Mary said. "But I couldn't impose. I'm perfectly content living outside until I find my own home. I promise."
The girl shook her head. "No, I insist," she said. She climbed onto the roof and held out her hand to Mary. "My name is Belle."
Mary shook her hand. "Captain Mary Harley," she said simply. She tried to take back her hand, but Belle wouldn't release it from her surprisingly strong grip. "Belle—"
"Master Merlin instructed me to shelter you at my home," Belle said, her grip tightening. "If Merlin tells you to do something, you do it."
Belle had the most intense brown eyes that seemed to bore holes into Mary. After a moment of subjecting herself to those eyes, she nodded. "Okay," she agreed. Belle smiled and released Mary's hand. The pirate followed Belle off the roof of the shoppe and through the square to the edge of a wood, where a small two-floor cottage stood.
Once inside the cottage, Belle showed Mary to her room, a modest abode, with a bed, nightstand, wardrobe and vanity. "Please, make yourself at home, Captain Harley," she said, standing in the doorway as Mary examined the room. "And when you wake, do not be surprised if Wonderland is not as it was today."
"Thank you, Belle," Mary said, nodding somberly. "I'm grateful. Even if you are so gracious under orders."
Belle laughed softly. "He didn't actually order me to take you in," she said. "He merely mentioned you were without accommodations. I imagine he knew I would want to help you."
Mary smiled. "You're very kind," she replied. "Good night."
"Good night, Captain."
"Commodore."
Commodore Norrington looked up from his book in the war room. "Yes, Sire?" he asked, standing as the King approached him.
Arthur was a young King, only twenty-three, but he was wise and kind and good. He was everything the realm needed in a ruler. But at times, his decisions were not understood until years later. That, however, made him a great King. "There is a Pirate wandering the Realm," Arthur told his right hand commander. "She answers to the name Mary Harley. She captains the Death. Bring her in; I'd like a word with her."
"Will this be an amiable encounter, Sire?" Norrington asked. "Or shall I need to use force with Captain Harley?"
"Quite amiable, I should think," the King replied. "Use your judgement."
