wanderamaranth | Possible Side Effects, Ch. 10

Possible Side Effects, Ch. 10: Doors

AiW fic. WiP.

Disclaimer: Still don't own. Still don't want sued. Thank you.

A/N: Outlandish translations will appear at the end of the chapter.

"I am most displeased you told McTwisp of our little game."

Queen Mirana smoothed down the front of her skirts. She was seated at a small tea-table in her Conservatory; it was one of the few places in her Kingdom she was able to go to be relatively alone, as being Conservative had gone very much out of fashion, to the point hardly anyone even wished to be seen near the Conservatory door. Smoke curled at her feet, in an almost sensuous glide.

She'd never admit it, least of all to the creature with whom she was conversing, but she was nervous. She knew as soon as she whispered her Champion's name into the rabbit's ear that this conversation would occur. Knowing, however, did not make the event itself any more pleasant.

"I hardly told him the entirety of it, Chessur."

The smoke solidified, revealing the corporeal form of the Cat. "You said enough. He is aware that you know more of what is happening than you've told them previously. He'll tell Tarrant, and if Time allows him, he'll figure it out. He's mad, Mirana, not stupid."

"It is too late now, even should he realize my intentions!" Mirana said, her voice's cheerfulness turning brittle. She batted her eyes coyly at the Cat. "That is, if you're sure you've managed your part successfully?"

"I'm sure." Cheshire drawled, managing to look nonchalantly annoyed. (A rare feat, indeed.) "I do wonder what you mean by saying 'your' intentions, however." Floating towards her, the Cat flipped lazily, evaporating as he did so, only to reappear centimeters away from her nose. "This is why I never involve myself in politics, you know. Here I thought they were 'our' intentions." He sniffed, "I'm hurt." managing to sound not the least bit emotionally injured at all.

A gentle twist of the lips joined Mirana's answer. "I do not mean to sound doubtful of you, Chess. It is only that they are both very important to me."

"Both, eh?" the Cat slyly grinned. Mirana's eyes flashed sharply at him, but he ignored her silent threat and continued with, "I had wondered whom you would next deem…important. Everyone in the kingdom has, actually. The town of Lion and Unicorn (for at this point no one in Underland could remember the town's original name, and had taken to just calling the town Lion and Unicorn, for the two inhabitants whom fought up and down its streets each day.) has been keeping a betting board."

Back straightening in indignation, the White Queen said carefully, "You do yourself no credit with those insinuations, Cheshire Cat. I had thought you above such pettiness."

The Cat twisted away from her, as if he were swimming through the air, on his back. "You forget, Mirana. I exist for pettiness. It's what makes my little kitty heart go pitter-pat." A loud purr filled the air, and Mirana uneasily recalled that cats purr not only out of pleasure, but for anger, as well. "You also seem to have forgotten that I am involved in this only because it pleases me to do so. I have sworn no vows of sovereignty to you. I may turn this into my game at any time."

"Isn't it already?" A rarely heard bitter tone entered the woman's voice, and the pink tone around her eyes darkened.

"Now, now, Mirana, be careful. Much more of that nasty attitude and people may start talking. Making comparisons between you and that unlovable sister of yours."

A set of claws unsheathed themselves from a dusky paw, and flexed a bit. Cheshire inspected the points, and said, musingly, "Those two, that are so important to you? Is this entire game about proving their loyalty to yourself? They feel it needful to obey you, you are aware, nothing more. To them, if you are not on the throne, Underland is evil chaos. It has nothing to do with love."

Fear radiated from the Queen outward. He was stirring up the wrong kinds of emotions, much too swiftly for her to control. "Begone from my sight, Cat."

His grin just curled up wider on his face.

"Begone!" Mirana nearly bellowed, as panic grabbed her throat. No trace of a smile could be seen anywhere on her continence. As she shouted, a great wind whipped through the air, and lashed towards the Cat. He blinked twice, slowly, taking just long enough so as to show his unconcern at her display of temper, then winked, before he faded out of sight.

While Mirana was still breathing heavily and attempting to reign in the darkness of her anger, a jaunty knock sounded on the doorframe. "Your Majesty?" the voice asked in a very familiar and, at the moment, unwelcome, lisp.

Taking a deep breath, Mirana centered herself before lifting her head high, smile firmly in place. "Hello, Hatter!"

An answering smile touched the corners of Tarrant's mouth as he opened the door, but it did not stretch into a full grin. "I believe there are a few things we're needing to discuss, your Majesty. May I come in?"

***

"Alice, what do you see here?"

The Knave stood just behind her shoulder, rather closer than she liked. A vague memory floated through her mind, of a Duchess with a head nearly as large as the Red Queen's, and whom was prodigiously found of morals. She had no concept of another's comfort if she wished to be close to you, either.

"I don't see anything. Well, more shrubbery. That is all." she replied, a small smile on her face as she pondered the possibility of the Knave and the Duchess being relations. Stranger things occurred in Underland, after all, than a terribly short woman and an obscenely tall man being kin.

Her smile blooming as directly as it did after his leaning into her presence lent the man more hope than he'd felt since first seeing the plaid pin she now wore round her neck. If she was smiling as he leaned against her, mayhap her heart was not as set as he'd feared? An initial physical attraction was more than enough for him to build from, he silently chortled. He would not mind that at all. He leaned a bit closer still, eye carefully on her face, as he bent towards her ear, and said, "I know there's an exit here somewhere. Look again."

The smile disappeared from Alice's face as she took a step forward, so as to remove herself from Stayne's overwhelming presence. He'd gotten much too close for her comfort, as she was still wary of the man and his intentions. Her face burned as she wondered if she would need to deny his advances the way she had in Salazum Grum.

She needed his assistance to get to Underland, and she'd wanted him removed from the presence of her family in the Above, post-haste, hence having him accompany her. (Not to mention she might need to use him should her illness completely steal her strength, but thinking such thoughts made her feel dreadfully tense, so she avoided doing so. If and when it happened, he would be there. She also ignored the niggle that told her it was a Bad Idea to trust him to lead her to Marmoreal, let alone be a gentleman should she become incapacitated. Another piece of very good advice she was giving herself that she was not following, she mused.)

"Perhaps if you told me what you wanted me to look for?" Alice queried.

Smirking now (as the poor creature had to remove herself from his person; there was a bit of a flush about her cheeks, which was very good indeed. He'd flustered her!) he drawled, "There are…no doors, present?"

Alice scanned the ground again. "No, there's…wait."

She walked up to a strangely twisted little tree, grey and completely covered in stick-sharp vines. There, tangled amongst the brush, was not a door wholly, but rather, a large piece of a door. The middle, she noted, as she could just make out the gleam of the well-worn handle. "Here, a bit of door!"

"You'll need to touch it before I can See it." Stayne said, a bit of shame in his gestures. One dislikes showing a lack or weakness in front of an individual one intends on courting, after all. "I may be able to clothe myself with Perception, but I do not possess the skill of Sensing Perception."

Intrigued, Alice asked, "What's the difference?" She didn't remove her gaze from the piece of door, fancying if she did so it could disappear, and she'd have to re-find it all over again.

"You can sense Perception with a Sense of Perception, of course. Without it, you can not."

She touched the part of the door she'd found, and Stayne cursed so as to make Alice's ears burn. (And she'd been aboard a ship for months on end hearing sailors speak!). "Bloody Outlandish humor!" he fumed. "We need to find the other bits of door. Usually when they do this they break it into threes." He stalked over and snatched up the middle of the door, setting it on the ground. "Look around, they have to be around here somewhere. The Outlanders are not so mad as of yet as to completely destroy their means of traveling Inland. I'm going to dig up a shrubbery."

Alice had thought herself adapting rather well to being in Underland again, and had opened her mind to plenty of things that did not work logically, but for this odd declaration she had no explanation. "A shrubbery? Whatever for?"

Always, with the questions, questions, questions, the Knave tsked to himself, before giving himself a firm reminder that constantly being asked questions was much preferable to constantly living with the threat of being beheaded if he did not…perform to standards.

"If you must know, there are Knights currently residing in the Tulgey Wood that will reward us handsomely for a shrubbery that is large, but not too large, and nice, but not tpo expensive. I believe this one will do." He pointed at a bush that was indeed large, but not too large, but for nice, Alice had her doubts. Her dubiousness must have shown on her face, because the Knave said, exasperated, "You don't want to walk the entire way to Marmoreal, do you? We may well get horses for this."

"For a shrubbery?"

Stayne rubbed one hand down his face. "Yes, for a shrubbery." he hissed. "Have you found any more of that door?" he asked, before he lost his temper with her, and regretted it.

"Yes, but…" she turned, pointing. "It's up there." The spot she pointed to was just above the Knave's head, on the branch of one of the tallest trees in the Outlands.

"Of course it is." Stayne shook his head. "Climb up." He kneeled in the dirt and patted his shoulder.

"What?" Alice squawked, beginning to feel rather like a parrot Lady Ascot kept in her salon. (At least, she had kept it until parrots went out of fashion; what happened to the bird after that, Alice did not know, and shuddered at the possibilities.)

"I can't see it. If I can't see the door, I can't grasp it. You need to touch it, remember?"

"Right." Taking a deep breath, Alice stared at the Knave's offered back, wondering how she was to sit upon it. She'd have to sit with one leg on either side of his head in order to touch the door, she decided, the way she had sat upon her father as a child, when he'd rush her about in the gardens, laughing. It was a pleasant memory to bolster her confidence at having to perform an unpleasant task, at least. She felt the full weight of the impropriety of her situation then, as she straddled his shoulders and he stood.

Here she was, wearing trousers and sitting astride a man's shoulders, a man whom she was in the company of without any chaperone, to boot. If Lady Ascot and her myriad friends ever heard of Alice doing such a thing, she'd be ruined. The thought caused her to grin.

Stayne, for his part, had to stifle a groan as Alice wrapped her legs around his neck. Pleasant warmth surrounded him, parts of her pressed fully against him that he'd appreciate much better if they were facing his front instead of where they were placed. As it was, he had to resist the urge to turn his head and sink his teeth into the fleshy part of her thigh, as it rubbed enticingly against his cheek. He'd love to hear her squeal.

So distracted was he that he didn't even realize she'd touched the second door piece until she rapped her knuckles on the top of his head, lightly. "Will you kneel back down, please? I've got it." He presently did as she requested, and she slid off of him, bracing her free hand upon his shoulders as the other held on to the door. Stayne's eye closed in bliss at the sensations she was unwittingly creating, and only came back to attention when he heard her say, "One more to go!" He opened his eye and looked at her hungrily, where she was kneeled next to the almost-complete door.

The look the Knave gave Alice made her uncomfortable indeed. He appeared to be ready to pounce on her at any moment, the way Kitty would do to unsuspecting insects in her mother's garden. "Right, then." she said, a bit shakily. "To find that last bit."

It was soon found half buried in the dirt, just a few yards away from where the rest of the door had been strewn. Stayne had just finished digging up his shrubbery and binding the roots with a scrap of fabric and twine when she drug it over to the other two pieces.

"Now what?"

Brushing the dirt from his hands, Stayne gestured towards the door, saying, "See it as whole."

"It's not whole, it's in pieces." Alice reminded him. Really, he was beginning to sound as mad as the Hatter. (Although with a much less pleasant constitution.)

"That is why you need to See it as whole." the Knave stressed the word See, and Alice started. "Oh!" Her now-green eyes took in the door with a new urgency. She squinted, tilted her head, and said under her breath, "Six impossible things, Alice. This is only one, and not so difficult at all!"

The door shimmered briefly, and then it was whole, laying upon the ground. Stayne nodded his approval and then knelt down, opening the door into the ground. Scenery nearly identical to what already surrounded them waited on the other side.

The Knave fell through the hole the door had created, tumbling a bit upon the ground on the other side, and sitting up slowly to re-orient himself. (As what had been sideways was now up-ways.) He waved his hand at Alice to follow, and taking a deep breath, she did so, falling through to the other side.

***

Stayne was back in Underland, and it was sending rumbles throughout the White Court. It seemed everywhere Iracebeth went someone was gossiping about him; although they'd shut up right quickly when they noted her presence. Still, she was hearing enough.

The ridiculous man went to all the trouble to reappear in the Outlands and travel inward. The quickly stifled whispers and the parchment that the Hatter held (and how one such as he ever managed to be gifted with such a Pretty Piece, she didn't know, but would dearly like to find out) had told her as much.

Iracebeth had learned long ago to be able to take in small details of events to piece together a larger picture. There were times she willfully blinded herself from the truth (as was the case with her dearly departed husband), but that did not mean the ability was not there. Details, after all, the little touches, are what truly move the Heart, and she was nothing if not the Queen of Hearts.

She'd managed a brief glance at the Hatter's Paper, but as said, it had been enough. A longer look had not really been needed anyways, as it just confirmed a feeling she'd had settle deep into her bones the night before.

Stayne intended to betray her. Had already betrayed her.

Alice was back in Underland as well. She would need to make her move on her own accord, now, and before the pair reached Marmoreal. Firstly, however, there were things she needed to discover, and allies to be bought.

"How many vials were collected?" the former Red Queen spoke with a female courtier, one with white hair piled so high atop her head it was a wonder she was able to walk at all. If anyone had chosen to look closely at her, they would have recognized her as the former Lady Big Ears, sans giant ears, of course. No one did look closely at courtiers, though, and so she was safe from accusations of treachery.

"I know not, your highness. I estimate a dozen doubled over, mayhap a bit more."

"That many?"

"Indeed. However, only two were distributed. That is well known." And indeed it would be, for anyone who received one would wish to brag about it; and even if they didn't, every other member of the court would not be satisfied until they were aware of any wish-gainers identities. It was always helpful to have the ear of the Queen's favorites, after all. For even a Queen like Mirana played favorites.

"Two? And to whom?"

"One to her Champion, immediately after the slaying of the Beast. The other, to the Hatter."

Iracebeth's eyes grew round, which was really a frightening sight in her enormous face. Could that be the reason he had that Paper? Or had he traded in his wish for musical talent? No, Mirana had been too eager for her to witness that. It had been meant to confuse and lull her, as many of Mirana's amusement were meant to please and lull.

Her voice, her air and manner of walking, the absurd way she flicked her over-long eyelashes at unsuspecting persons…it was all designed to make them feel at ease, feel as though the Queen thought of them as special, when really, they were just another in a long line of those 'special' to her. They'd serve her and be glad to do so, never seeing that their free will had been completely subjugated under that of their Queen. And she would keep them enthralled with her person, just enough…a small comment here or there to them every month or so, if a courtier; a visit to their village every six months, if a peasant, and so on and so forth. Just enough to make them believe she cared.

It was one thing Iracebeth truly loathed her for. When she was Red Queen, she used those below her for her purposes, yes. It is what Queens do. She did not, however, pretend she was doing anything other than that. They served a purpose for their Queen. When she was done with them, it was off with their head. Mirana, by contrast, collected people, and used them even beyond death. (Buttered fingers being not so easy to come by when one considers themselves a pacifist, after all.) She thought it extremely hypocritical of her sister to think of Iracebeth as evil when they had much the same turn of mind.

"Why would my sister gather so many vials of Jabber blood and then only use two?" Iracebeth mused aloud, momentarily forgetting she was not alone. "It spoils so dreadfully quickly."

"I believe, your eminence, that is because it is generally believed that a tainted wish fulfilled is better than no wish fulfilled at all."

Or perhaps she desired the Idea of the wishes more than anything else, Iracebeth pondered, hearing the eagerness in the other woman's voice, the underlying yearning for a wish, even a tainted one. Brava, dear sister, well played. Subjects and courtiers will do much for their Monarch if there is always the silent promise of your dearest wish fulfilled at hand, and although Mirana acted the fool for many, she was not so much of one that she would not realize that Iracebeth had her own followers, those whom would it would be needful to keep in line after her removal. And with Miri's 'Do No Harm' vow…yes, it was a very tidy means of control. Not as absolutely effective as head removal, but effective nonetheless.

"Thank you, Big Ea…" Iracebeth trailed off, knowing she could not call the woman to whom she spoke by that particular moniker while in Marmoreal. She picked back up on speaking again, setting aside her mistake. "I shall not forget this service. Continue on in this manner, and I may even Name you."

A name! A thrill shot through the former Lady Big Ears at the very consideration of such an honor. She had the name she was born with, given to her by her parents, yes, but it was not a True Name. Very few were ever given such an honor, and they were all the most respected or well-known denizens of Underland. The Knave of Hearts, the Hatter Tarrant Hightopp, and the White Queen's Champion Alice Kingsley were a few that had been True Named, and she dearly wished to join their ranks in notoriety.

"Anything, your Supreme Majesty. Whatever you desire."

***

"Ofph!"

Alice fell against the Knave when she dropped into the door, and they both gasped a bit in pain at the impact. Alice's gasp turned into a cough, and she quickly rolled away from Stayne as more mucusy purple bits came out of her body. "It seems unlikely" she wheezed, "that just one mouthful of that creature's blood could turn into this much coming back out."

"Shhh!" Stayne held a hand towards her in a shushing manner, but it mattered little to Alice, who could not stop coughing. "Do you think" she forced between hacks, "I enjoy doing this?"

"Be quiet!" he said through clenched teeth, voice low. (Which was silly, as Alice herself was making quite the racket, and his normal volume of voice would have hardly made a difference.) "Do you want them set upon us?" His eye scanned the clearing they were in, landing upon a set of doors opposite themselves. "Good. I can see them. That will make this next part relatively easy, then."

Wiping at her chin again with her sleeve (why didn't she think to pack a handkerchief with her? The sleeve of this duster was getting ruined!) Alice said, sotto voice, "Who would set themselves on us?"

The Knave stood and hauled Alice to her feet as well. "Do not talk, and assist me in finding the door labeled Queast, would you?"

Alice wanted to ask Stayne how she would alert him if she did find the door without speaking, but bit her tongue and trudged off the direction furthest from his person. She reached the door quickly, and was to call to Stayne that she'd found one labeled Queast, despite his request they not speak, when a loud, growling voice boomed across the clearing.

"Well, well, if it ain't the Knave of Iracebeth, come back to the Outlands. Ye were ne'er to leave, ye slurking urpal slackush scrum. Opynyoun nas ye tus no wight pynchen per sangwyn dayes. Me thynketh it accordant to resoun ye nas plesaunce de quelled."1

She didn't understand a word in ten that was spoken, but Alice understood the intent behind them, and the cadence as well. Outlandish! She whirled around, ignoring the dizziness in her head, to see a ring of very sturdy looking men surrounding the Knave, interspersed here and there with an equally solid looking creatures, amoung them a Bear and a green Pig.

Dashing forward, she pushed her way into the ring, and stood beside the Knave. "Stop!" she demanded, holding out her arms as if she could physically ward such a crowd away. "This man travels with me!"

"Stirte yow er quelled yeself, Deere Suster!"2 the Bear said, causing Alice to assume he was the leader of this group.

"I do not speak Outlandish, Bear." she said, lowering her arms a bit. "What quarrel have you with this man?"

There was much shifting about, as each of the creatures present looked towards one of their number. The Dodo stepped forward, blue-feathered head gleaming in the sun. "I am afraid, save myself, dear girl, that none hear speak any language other than Outlandish with any fluency. But speak if you will, and I will translate what you say to my companions. But hurry! We wish to lynch this disreputable fellow beside you post haste. What is your name?"

The Knave shifted uneasily behind her, but Alice was focusing on the bird, now. "I am Alice Kingsley." she said, and everyone around her understood that well enough, as there was a great uproar of doubt and disbelief that threatened to deafen her. She raised her voice to be heard over the cacophony. "I am ill! Ilosovic Stayne is directing me to Marmoreal, where I seek the White Queen's assistance."

"The Alice! Hardly!" the Dodo scoffed, not even bothering to translate her words. "The Alice went back Above! Imposter! Falsifier!"

"Please tell me you know where our door is…" Stayne said to Alice, as the mob of men and beasts became more and more agitated and creative with their name calling.

"I know where our door is." Alice confirmed.

"Really?" the Knave asked, the surprise in his voice hardly flattering.

Nodding, Alice said, "The furthest door on the left."

"Excellent. They'll stop with the taunting in a moment, and then we'll be in real trouble. Do you feel capable of running?"

Alice turned and looked up at the Knave, a bit of unflattering surprise showing on her own face. She'd have thought that, in a situation such as this, Stayne would have abandoned her and done his level best to save himself.

"Ready on my mark." he said, and both tensed their bodies, muscles preparing for what was ahead. Alice's jaw clenched against the pounding pain in her head, and she blinked ferociously to make her vision as clear as possible.

"Doon us honge de suyn rake-stele!"3 the Bear roared, the mob cheering his proclamation. They turned towards the pair with murder in their eyes.

"Run." Stayne grimly ordered. The sound of steel sliding from its sheath rang in the air as the ring of bodies closed in about them. A strong fist collided with the side of Alice's face, twisting her entire body around and to the ground. She landed in a heap, stunned. More bodies fought to get close to her own, to be the one with the honor of striking the 'false' Alice, until she saw a flash of metal and several of her would be attackers fall to the ground.

"Get up and RUN!" Stayne shouted, struggling against the mob, the majority of which was now focused on him, as he had efficiently slain three of their number while they concentrated on Alice. A short sword smeared in blood was gripped tightly in one fist, while the other hand was being used in conjunction with his feet to clear attackers away from himself.

"Don't kill them!" Alice shouted, picking herself up painfully from the ground, only to be tripped again by a man with a bald head and trunk-like limbs. He grasped her by her hair, pulling upward, and Alice screamed as hanks of it came away in his grip. Blindly, she struck out, managing a very lucky strike right in the soft part of his belly that knocked the wind out of him. He released her hair, and without further prompting, she ran, stumbling towards the door.

Stayne was right behind her, half-running backwards as the remaining members of their would be lynch-mob pressed forward, not allowing him to make a clean break away.

Alice fell against the door, and with a sob, twisted the handle. It opened suddenly, slamming against the frame with a resounding bang. A sound not unlike a locomotive could be heard coming from the other side, but at that moment, Alice didn't care. She simply wanted away from their current location, away from the blood, and away from the guilt that was already riding upon her heavily. Did their attackers deserve death?

A over-large hand was on her shoulder shoved her forward and into the open doorway. The hand was followed by the rest of the Knave, who slammed the door shut behind them before he leaned against it, breathing heavily.

Picking herself up off the ground again (Alice had somehow managed to forget how often she fell down whilst in Underland, but was unfortunately remembering now) and looked up. No less than three small tornados whirled around them. The sky was a sickly green, and everything the twisters touched became so much rubble in a matter of moments. Doors, shrubbery, and what looked like small animal parts flew by her face.

"Our next door is there!" Stayne shouted, pointing at a doorway suspended in seemingly mid-air in the very center of the clearing. One tornado broke away from its kin and made its way towards them. "I will need to drag myself through first, then pull you. Are you ready?"

"Muchness, muchness, muchness…" Alice said under her breath, her own personal mantra. She nodded.

The Knave snatched up her hand. "Don't lose my hand!" he demanded, and then began to rush to the door, and away from the twister intent on their current direction.

Alice struggled to keep up with his long strides, but was unable to. Exhaustion caused her to stumble again, just as another tornado adjusted course and barreled towards them.

"Alice!" Stayne cried, stopping to gather her up. He'd carry her in his arms if he had to, but they needed to get to the next door!

The Knave, despite quickly turning back for her, was too late to reach Alice, and she was sucked into the center of the vortex before his horrified eyes. He could see her bounce about, once, twice, before she was ejected violently, ironically enough at the very door he'd been eager to get her to. Her body crashed through the wood, and he could hear a sickening crack, even over the rushing of the wind, as she landed on the other side.

A/N: When I first read Outlandish on the printed page, I was struck by its similarities to Old English. So I used a bastardized version of such for my Outlandish in this story. The (rough) translations are as follows:

1. "Ye were ne'er to leave, ye slurking urpal slackush scrum. Opynyoun nas ye tus no wight pynchen per sangwyn dayes. Me thynketh it accordant to resoun ye nas plesaunce de quelled." Well, the first bit, 'slurking urpal slackush scrum', is from the rough draft of the script that's been floating around, and it says it is just 'words of the most foul nature'. The rest is my version of Outlandish, translating to: "Opinion is you are a person at fault for the blood red days. I think it stands to reason you're asking to die. (by coming back here.)"

2. "Stirte yow er quelled yeself, Deere Suster!" Move it before you're killed, sweetheart!

3. "Doon un honge de rake-stele!" Let's hang these suckers! Well, rake-stele actually translates to just rakes, and I turned it into an insult

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