A/N: I'd like to thank my guest writer for the opening of this chapter, abscondinabox, who had these first 350 words sitting on her computer collecting dust. When I discovered them, I was agog and aghast that she had no clear intention of continuing the idea, and she offered to let me adopt it. ^_^ So here it is, slightly touched up to match my style so you wouldn't notice when I took over the narrative, but pretty much in its full glory.
I'd also like to thank Kitty-0-kat, who so far has left a review on every single one of my ten chapters. ^_^ Thanks so much for your support, darling!
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This is how it starts.
"Jack," said the Deuce of Clubs, wearing a very loud shirt and chomping noisily on the end of a cigar. "Jack, my boy. I want you to meet somebody. She's a real looker—legs up to here, blonde like you won't believe—and I think you two crazy cats will be iperfect on screen together, just perfect." He took the cigar out of his mouth and shouted, "EDDIE! Christ, where the fuck is Eddie. EDDIE, BRING HER IN." He put the cigar back in his mouth and smiled greasily.
Jack adjusted a cuff link and wondered, not for the first time, what he'd gotten himself into.
It was actually his father who first had the idea - before he had married the Queen, he had been in pictures.
("I was quite the dandy," Winston boasted, winking at the Queen. She smiled at him indulgently, herself drawn back into memory: somewhere in the Casino there was a room filled with Winston's costumes (high-flying sky pirates, dashing soldiers, suave multi-millionaires), the fashionable gowns that the Queen had worn when he appeared on her arm, and portraits of the two of them together, painting the town red.
"Had to give it up, for the most part, once I became the King." Winston sounded wistful. "Still, wouldn't trade a thing and all that.")
And Jack thought, as he wandered through the lot on his way to the Deuce's office, that being a film star didn't seem like such a bad way to pass the time.
Which is why Jack found himself there, sitting in a smoke-filled office and listening to the biggest movie producer in Wonderland go on about his new film, in which Jack would apparently be starring.
("You don't need me to… audition, or anything?" Jack had asked, somewhat dubiously.
"Are you kidding? Jack Heart—your name alone is gonna sell a million tickets, maybe two million. Just you wait, kid, you're gonna break hearts. Uh. No disrespect intended.")
"EDDIE!" bellowed the Deuce. "EDDIE, I SWEAR TA GOD—ah, there you are, sweet cheeks!" His angry scowl turned into a smarmy, satisfied grin as a pair of legs came into view. Jack tried to keep his composure as possibly the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen slinked into the Deuce's office.
"Hello, Deuce." Her voice lilted in a practiced sound, a tone one part false warmth carefully covering the other part complete derision. Her eyes slid across the room to meet Jack's, and he could see her shoulders roll back and one leg crook at the knee to poke out the side of her skirt. "You must be Jack Heart," she purred. "I've heard so much about you."
"And I, you," he responded courteously. He reached out a hand to hers and courteously bowed over it. "It's a pleasure."
"Outstanding!" the Deuce chuckled, puffing away expertly on his cigar. "The world's gonna go crazy for you kids. Just crazy!"
..
Their first picture together was a romantic comedy, charmingly simple and requiring absolutely no talent whatsoever. This, of course, wasn't that unusual for a Wonderland production - acting in Wonderland, like everything else, was completely dependent on Tea. Actors didn't really have to act so much as just stand there and look pretty while they talked, since each production had it's own supply of ready-made Tea that they drank before each scene. As they filmed film after film, the public demanding more and more of the glamorous and romantic Jack Heart and the Duchess, he soon became used to taking shots of Arrogance, Regret, and Love every half hour.
At the same time, as weeks drifted by, Jack was also becoming quite used to having the Duchess in his company. He found, much to his surprise, that she was smart as a whip under all of the sparkles and blonde hair and breasts she used to keep her career afloat. Creative and manipulative, there was no man (or, when she had the occasion, no woman) who could resist her wiles, her carefully administered compliments, her shy requests. She was bold and spectacular and, he was sure, like no other woman he would find in Wonderland.
Several months after they'd first been introduced, Jack was in the middle of a publicity campaign for their newest film when he realized that he could no longer distinguish his normal feelings for the Duchess from his feelings after he had taken his Love dose.
On the day they announced their engagement, Jack looked at her, every single inch shining, from her brown eyes to her glossy blonde hair, cheeks flushed with excitement, and thought, This must be love, what I'm feeling right now. It must be, and I am going to feel this way for the rest of my life.
That feeling of certainty hadn't lasted for as long as he'd hoped.
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"I just received a missive from Five down in decorating," the Duchess said one morning over her makeup counter. "Apparently there was an extra statue that arrived with our order and no one knows where it came from. I don't suppose you have any opinion on whether or not we should keep it?"
Jack shrugged. "You can do whatever you like, my dear."
The Duchess stared into her mirror, lost in thought. "I suppose there's always room in the Hedge Maze... hmm. I'll have Five send it there, then. I'm sure the Hedge Keepers will find somewhere to put it." She set down her makeup brush and looked over her shoulder at Jack, who was pretending not to struggle with the buttons on his shirt.
"Jack," she asked, "are you feeling okay?"
"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"
"You just don't seem as collected lately as usual. Also, you were tossing and turning in bed again last night."
He coughed. "Really? Perhaps you're mistaken."
"As someone who is sharing your bed, I think I would know." She sighed. "Jack, it's been nearly five days, now."
"I've already told you, I'm sleeping fine."
"Yes, you say that, but come look at yourself!" She grasped his arm and brought him over to her mirror. Jack looked askance at his reflection, all pale skin and haggard eyes. "You look exhausted!" The Duchess said. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." He brushed her off, walking briskly over to his tie rack and selecting one of the black ones at random. "I'm the King, sometimes I have a lot on my mind before I go to bed. Just put it out of your mind."
"Well, of course I'm going to worry about you," the Duchess huffed under her breath, coming over to take the tie out of Jack's tiredly fumbling fingers.
"Well, I don't need it," Jack snapped. He knocked her fingers away with a glare. "Now would you just leave me alone so I can think?"
The Duchess settled back on her heels, glaring at him sharply from beneath her dark lashes. She shook her hair back and walked out of the room without another word. Jack sighed and secured his tie around his neck, feeling as though he would regret that later. Perhaps she's right, he thought. I have been feeling particularly drained lately. I could send a request to the Court Physician to make me something…
But why? a voice in his head argued. It's just a phase, it'll pass. She worries too much, she's ualways/u worrying about me too much, ever since she rescued me from the Eye Room…
"It's as though she thinks I need her or something," he grumbled, straightening invisible wrinkles in his suit. There was a small bell resting on his dresser – he picked it up and rang it. The response was gratifyingly immediate, as a Club rushed instantly into his room. "Send for Lory," he said, and the Club bowed before hurrying away.
Mad March had been his mother's favorite assassin – a man dedicated to the art of tracking and torture. He gave his jobs what he called a personal touch, loved to get his hands dirty, his arms elbow-deep in his victims' blood. Jack rarely had need for an assassin, of course, but sometimes you needed something taken care of, and when he did, Jack preferred a different approach. Something a little more elegant, a little more… subtle.
Lory, in comparison, ever got his hands dirty. He worked with nature, letting the rivers, the mountains, the birds and beasts do his dirty work without him ever having to even see the victim. Whereas the name Mad March had inspired fear throughout Wonderland, few people even realized that Lory existed. He was elegant, secret, and subtle. In other words, exactly what Jack wanted.
Jack had only just walked into the Throne Room when his doors opened, admitting Lory, unannounced and unattended by any of Jack's Clubs. This wasn't surprising, however - Lory's appearance was rather unsettling for most people, including Jack's staff. For one thing, he had no pupils in his eyes whatsoever, only large, ice-blue irises peering out of an otherwise human face. His hair, too, was inhuman: where normal human hair would be, Lory instead had blood-red feathers with razor-sharp tips, kept slicked away from his face and pointing out like porcupine quills off the back of his head. Jack assumed the feathers also covered his arms and legs, but he couldn't be sure – he had never seen Lory in anything but a tailored black suit.
"A quick arrival," Jack remarked from his seat on the throne. "I doubt my Club's scarab has even left the launch pad."
"You know I have my ways," Lory said with a small smile. His voice was deep, resonant, like an earthquake speaking.
"I expected a report before now – you're usually so… well, prompt." Jack raised an eyebrow.
"There was a problem."
"I don't care. Tell me you've taken care of the situation."
Lory cracked his neck, bending it to the side at an unsettling angle in doing so, before angling his chin back up to coldly meet the King's gaze. "I'm afraid not, sir."
A dead silence possessed the room.
"I want Hatter dead, Lory," Jack whispered menacingly.
Lory didn't respond.
Jack stood up, looking at the floor, his hands folded in front of him as calmly as though discussing the weather. He walked slowly over to where Lory stood. The heels of his shiny black shoes clicked against the marble floor and echoed around the room as he approached. He didn't stop until he was mere inches away, looking unflinchingly into Lory's empty eyes.
"Five full days ago I commissioned you to take care of him and make it look like an accident. I didn't think that would be such a difficult task for you - it's what you do best, isn't it!"
"I stand by my execution. That JubJub bird has been locked up in the Library for decades," Lory said, matching Jack's furious expression with a blank one of his own. "It was starving for meat, there should have been no way he survived."
"Well, you'll have to try harder." There was a dangerous undercurrent to Jack's voice. He turned away, walking back to his Throne. "Hatter needs to be taken care of, and Alice is not to realize that it was a hired job."
"Perhaps if you told me why he is being dispatched," Lory said. "I can only do so much with so little information."
Jack waved a hand impatiently. "Don't ask questions. Just do your job, and let me do mine."
Lory looked like he was going to say something, but thought better of it. "Certainly," he drawled. He turned around and was gone in an instant, no puff of smoke, no flash of light, the only evidence of his being there being the single blood-red feather on the floor marking where he'd stood.
Jack slumped back in his Throne, pinching the bridge of his nose with a sigh. I don't know, he thought desperately. I don't know why I'm doing this.
He sighed and reached for the summons bell. All of this was giving him a headache.
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