wanderamaranth | Possible Side Effects, Ch. 17

AiW WiP.

Chapter 17: An Unacceptable Request

Disclaimer: I don't own or have the rights to Alice in Wonderland, Disney, or anything else mentioned that is a recognizable pop culture thing-a-ma-bob. (The list is getting a bit long. I've put quite a few Easter eggs in this story!) Suffice it to say, if you recognize it from another source, I don't own it. If you don't, I created it. Questions about which are which? Ask please.

"I almost hate to do this, my dear, when we were getting along so splendidly. But one or the other of us must have control of this body, otherwise my blood and your blood are just going to continue to battle, and then neither one of us will be left with use of the shell." Yawning, Jabber added, "For obvious reasoning, I wish to be the one in control. I am therefore requesting that you concede control to myself. If you do not, then we shall have to compete for it, and that is very tedious indeed."

Alice could feel her body, or what she imagined to be her body (as she was not sure if she was in this place with Jabber corporeally or not; she rather thought she was, but was not certain enough to define that she most certainly was) tremble at Jabber's words.

"May I ask why you desire control of my body at all? It is a very weak and unimpressive form, especially compared to…" she gestured to his dragon-like visage.

"My dear girl, any body is better than no body, which is what I currently have. What you are seeing is merely an echo of the last host I took. I maintained that particular one for many, many years, it is true, but it is not the form I was born to, nor will it be the last form that I take. Unlike my brother, I do not have the luxury of transmogrification. I have learned to make do with what I have. Right now, I have you." He flicked his tail about the air, and added, "Besides, your form can not be so terribly weak if it was able to vanquish this incarnation of myself."

"I suppose I can see your point about something being better than nothing…" Alice conceded, (as she saw no advantage to arguing with the beast when she was so much smaller, completely unarmed, and…perhaps he wouldn't try to take her over, however that was to be achieved, if they were still talking?) "But I was only successful when…erm…" Not knowing how to tactfully say 'when I chopped off your head' Alice skipped over that part and finished her sentence with, "I was only successful due to the Vorpal Sword. Without it, I wouldn't have stood a chance."

"No, you wouldn't have." Jabber agreed, much too quickly for Alice's pride to like, even though it was true. "But many others bore the Vorpal, and were not able to accomplish what you were. Deny it as much as you like, buttered toast, but your body holds power that you are not aware of. Not yet. Once I am in control, I will be able to show you so much--we will be able to share so much. The best part is, neither one of us ever need to be alone again. I will not steal your awareness, dear heart. I can be generous."

"You make it sound as though you wish to be my…friend." Alice stammered.

"But of course I do, marmalade!" Jabber giggled (as Alice could think of the noise that came out of him as anything else, despite the incongruity of the Idea that a beast of Jabber's size was actually giggling). "When I take control, you will still be able to see everything, smell everything, feel everything that I do. You just won't be the one that decides to do any of those things. Would that not be wonderful, to cease having to make all of those dreadfully tedious decisions all of the time? Just step aside, and I will take care of all of that needless worrying for you."

Jabber paraded concerns before Alice that had plagued her for many a night. "Should I continue to expand our holdings into mainland China, or should I seize the opportunity to create a new outpost in Jakarta? Should I make a new home for myself, or continue to use my mother's dwelling as my English residence? Does Margaret need to know about Lowell's indiscretions? Did I make the right decision in leaving Underland?"

"I never regretted my decision to leave Underland! It was what needed doing!" Alice defended, more shaken than she would like to admit at how accurate Jabber's words were about the other subjects. How well he seemed to know her fears and doubts.

"Oh, but you did, sweetness. If there was not regret, there was definitely doubt present. Less from the Not Hardly Alice, more from the Almost Alice. I should have guessed your attachment to the last Hightopp, really, with the way she carried on about him, but I assumed it was merely hormones."

"Hormones!" Alice wasn't quite sure exactly what Jabber meant by such a statement, but she understood enough to believe herself being insulted.

"Oh yes, blue bell. Those selves of yours that you shed to become the Absolutely Alice are quite talkative indeed. Well, less so the Not-Hardly Alice, but then she was a meek and submissive creature, wasn't she? She was going to marry that dull Lord So-and-So simply because it was expected of her. The Almost Alice, though…she has had many an inappropriate thing to say about your Hatter. Very saucy, she is. Probably for the best you shut her away, dearie, as she definitely would have compromised you, had she had her way and you had stayed in Underland."

"You've been talking to my past selves?" Alice said, grasping one of the only salient points she felt comfortable discussing.

"Yes, yes. Whom else would I talk to when you are conscious? It would get terribly lonely in your head if all I had to talk to was myself, you know. It was while I was talking to them that I decided that I liked you, Alice, and that you would make a just-fine host for my next body. I had other options, you know. Others drank my blood after the Frabjous Day, but I chose you. Aren't you lucky!"

"Hm. Lucky." Alice said, mind skittering about like a water-bug.

Thinking back to her dreams (those horrid dreams, where Iracebeth slew Mirana, and she walked arm-in-arm with Stayne through a hellish version of the White Gardens) where she was unable to move, but she was still aware of all that occurred around her, made Alice's stomach cramp from a combination of fear and loathing. That was what the Jabberwocky was offering her.

This was her life Jabber was talking about so possessively, though; she made the path. He made it sound as if she should be well pleased to have another entity just step in and live it for her. If she had wanted that kind of life, where she made none of her own decisions and let others led her about where they pleased, she would have allowed her mother to marry her off to Hamish, and would likely to be even now swelling with his child.

Stomping up to her with a surprising amount of grace, Jabber oiled himself along side her, and wound his tail about her waist. "You need never worry about something as silly as making a decision ever again, lily blossom." Jabber cajoled. "All you will need to do is watch, and listen, and feel. Doesn't that sound delightful?"

Alice knew, deep down in the center of her body, that she would rather cease to be than to have another lead her around the way that Jabber seemed to think she should want to be led. That was not the life for her; in fact, it didn't sound like much of a life at all. Still, it was best to keep Jabber talking, Alice thought, until she could come up with a solution on how to get herself away from him. She wasn't sure how she was supposed to escape from a creature that only claimed to exist an echo of its former self inside her own mind, but she was sure she would figure it out, if only given enough Time.

"What would you do to my friends?" Alice asked. She knew the answer to that from the dream of the Garden, but she wanted Jabber to continue talking, and he did seem to love talking about his plans for her life. (Or it could be that he enjoyed the sound of his own voice; Alice wasn't sure which it was, but knew that in either case, a question would serve her purposes just fine.)

"You say that in such a suspicious manner!" Jabber fussed. "I am not a creature driven by war or violence, cherry tart, at least not naturally. It is true my last host had a bit of a taste for those things, and I indulged him occasionally. Yet I know it would please you for me to allow your companions to live, and so I would make every attempt to refrain from slaying them. I will not lie to you and guarantee I would not, though. There may come a moment when their deaths would mean our survival, lovey, and I will always choose us over any other creature."

"And what of the Hatter?" Alice courageously asked. Destroy every member of the Clan Hightopp, and then I would be an agent of myself again, the Jabber had said, and Alice had not forgotten.

Eyes narrowing in a show of temper, Jabber huffed, and energy crackled about his lips. "The Hightopp is the one being that I will not make any claims I will even attempt to spare, for the sake of our freedom, gingersnap. I will eat him."

The Jabberwocky said the word eat with such delight that Alice had no doubt that he meant so literally. Pushing off the tail around her waist, Alice scrambled away, not caring any longer if she offended Jabber or if he was going to stop talking and attack her if she didn't distract him. "In my body? You, who claim to wish to be my friend, would make me eat the Hatter, and be aware that I was doing so?" Her voice was becoming shrill and slightly hysterical, and again, Alice did not care.

"It is the only way!" Jabber insisted. "And Hightopps are delicious, dearest. You'll enjoy it, this I swear to you."

"I have heard enough!" Alice cried. "Let me make sure we are perfectly clear, Jabberwocky. You wish to take control of what you call our body, and would allow me the privilege of being aware of all of the depraved and reprehensible actions you would perpetuate in said body?"

"Exactly!" Jabber clapped, actually clapped at her, like she was a clever child in need of praise. "Oh, you are delightful! I knew that you would grasp the situation most swiftly. All you need to do now is relax your mind, and I will do the rest."

"I have not given you an answer, Jabberwock!" Alice's voice snapped, and the beast actually flinched at the tone. "You have attempted to gain my trust with sweet names and the promise of a life where I do not decide a single action for myself! What would you say if I told you that I had no desire for such a life, and that when you call me such ridiculous things it makes the bile rise in the back of my throat?"

She took a deep breath and charged on, her words sharp and true. "Why, if it is so wonderful to be a passenger while someone else lives your life, are you attempting so strongly to be the one in control? Shouldn't you be most delightfully pleased to simply exist as a echo of your own self inside my mind? Why come back in full form at all, Jabber? Answer me that! I will tell you why!"

This beast couldn't possibly expect that Alice would be in any way accepting of a situation where she willingly gave up her free will and hard fought independence and paid to do so by…she couldn't even think the words! That she would forsake her dear Hatter's life for her own, and that of the Jabber's? (And there she went again, Alice told herself, thinking of the Hatter as hers--but if he was not hers, than what was he? It was more than his kisses, although those were very nice, she admitted silently. The way he would sit and talk with her for hours, and seem genuinely interested in what she had to say contributed to the feelings of possession; the way he would look at her, as if she were something wondrous to behold, that caused that pleasant effervescent bubbling in mid-section; the way he held her when…Right, Alice, enough of that!)

With all of the emotions swirling within and about Alice, the disgust, the fear, and the fragile hope for a future (yes, with her Hatter) that the young woman was just beginning to acknowledge that she wanted, topmost was this: this beast, this horrid creature had threatened her Hatter, and that was unacceptable.

She pushed on, not giving him the chance to answer the questions she pressed upon him. "Because it is not a good way to live a life, not at all! What a horrid thing, to be bound to someone else's whims and fancies! I was given the opportunity of doing so once before, and I almost made the mistake of accepting that scenario because it was what was expected of me. If you think for one moment that I will simply bow to your wishes when my own family was not able to convince me that such a life was for my own benefit, what makes you believe that you have even the ghost of a chance of doing so?"

When Alice was done speaking, her chest was heaving in great gulps of air, her eyes flashing in indignation and passion. Instead of insulted fury like she expected, however, all she received in answer from Jabber was a crocodile smile.

"Simply wonderful. I will enjoy hearing your thoughts bounce around our head, at least for the first decade or so." Jabber paused as if considering something. "I suppose it might get tedious after that, but I can always kill ourselves and come back again."

"Did you not hear a word I said?" Alice demanded, body vibrating in sheer emotion. "I said No, Jabber."

"Oh, yes. I hear the words that are coming out of your mouth, certainly. I will give you one more chance to reconsider, sugar lump, and if you still refuse, it will be to battle once more. No longer will we be brother and sister in arms, but once again bitter rivals on the checkered field. Do not do as those before you have done, Bearer, and simply become a sooty smear upon the ground. Those who stand against me do not win, and I do not show mercy."

The memory of the houses upon Hightopp Hill came to Alice's mind then. She could almost feel her fingers tracing the letters of the brass plates she found, could practically taste the ash in the air. A whole clan of people had been wiped out, annihilated by this creature, and he dared to refer to their entire existence and death as simply they being a 'sooty smear'? Tears for people she had never know, and now had no way of knowing them, ever, filled her eyes.

"I am not your sister." she asserted. "Nor am I the Bearer, or a cherry tart, or buttered toast!" Her brow furrowed fiercely as she said, "My name is Alice, and I refuse to cede to the likes of you. I will not let you hurt him."

"The Absolutely Alice has found her Muchness, I see." Jabber mocked, wings flinging wide. "Let us see if she is capable of keeping it! It is battle between us now, Alice! Winner takes your body, and that implies!"

Mirana stood in front of the window that covered one entire wall of her study. The view below encompassed the candied cherry and sugar plum orchard; a group of chipmunks were practicing a cappella, while Bayard's pups critiqued from the stone benches. The White Queen, however, saw and heard none of these things. Instead, her eyes and ears were trapped in a memory, one that brought her no joy; her recent rejection from the Royal Hatter.

Oh, it was not severe as rejections went; he hadn't stomped his feet or screamed in disgust or wailed about her giving him 'the bad touch' (as she had witnessed a courtier's young daughter once saying of Stayne, back when he, Iracebeth, and herself had been little more than children themselves). But it was enough to make a dull ache throb just below her throat. She rubbed at her breastbone, trying to dispel the feeling.

I am loyal to Her Majesty and the White Court, he'd said. Such cruel and unfeeling words! That combined with the way he'd flinched away from her when she'd simply reached out to smooth his hair back--something she had casually done numerous times before, told her all that she needed to know. She had been fooling herself the previous night in believing that if she simply allowed Tarrant a bit of Time, he would look more favorably upon her suit. And if he, a man--and a mad one at that, she reminded herself--had such a reaction to her suggestion, what in Underland would her Champion, a proper young lady, think of her desires?

Shying away from imagining Alice's repugnance, the White Queen instead wondered at her own turning of mind. Why, of all of the people in Underland, did she need to fall in…no, be attached to (much better; much safer, Mirana thought) the Mad man with a brain so addled that neither her potions nor the power of her eyes could influence him, and the Abovegroundian who seemed immune to her eyelash fluttering as well. Potions had seemed to work well enough on her, but Mirana did not want to be the type of female who needed to rely on that kind of Potion to gain affection. (She conveniently ignored the fact that, after the Horvendush Day, when she'd been particularly grateful to Tarrant, and he had been blithely unaware of her overtures, she had attempted such a Potion. It had no affect whatsoever, curse the Luck! No, she mustn't curse Luck. She was already Not on the Best Terms with him.)

The only other creature she had met that was resistant to her gaze before Alice (saving Tarrant, of course, and she believed his madness made him not so much immune as unaffected) was Chessur, and to a much lesser degree, Tertian.

Oh, if she had only known then what she knew now, she would have never done what she had--separating Iracebeth and Tertian from one another. It was, ultimately, an unnecessary cruelty, but at the Time…it had seemed perhaps the only way for her to gain what she most desired. A child.

The dissolution of her marriage and betrayal by her sister was what drove the Red Queen into Madness, Mirana knew. Theirs had already been a strained relationship (she and Mirana, that is; they had argued bitterly over which one was at fault for Queen Alice being able to flee to the Above) and the White Queen's selfish, covetous behavior had been the last insult in a long rivalry.

If she had not acted the way she had, however, she would have never met her Champion as an adult. She would never have been able to see her as she was on the Frabjous Day: terrified, yet steadfast. Strong in her resolve, once her decision had been made. With her blonde hair streaming free, the silver armor shining upon her shoulders, and standing beside the Hatter, Alice had nearly stolen the Queen's resolve to allow the young woman to return Above once her task was complete. It had only been through sheer determination to never, never be as selfish in matters of the heart as she had once been that she was able to stay her tongue. She had to let Alice make her own decision--to stay Under or go Above--and Hope that she chose as she desired her to.

Yes, if not for her own behavior, Iracebeth might even now still be Ruler of Crims, happy with her King at her side, her five sets of twins pampered and appreciated. She might still be the slightly odd but lovable sister she had once known. Mirana could feel as shakes began to rack her body, the more she accepted the guilt of her actions. The bloodshed could have been avoided; Clan Hightopp's utter annihilation would have--

"Why, Miri! Whatever is the matter?"

Mirana whirled around quickly, hands snapping to attention in the air. She wobbled a bit in her dressy heels, but managed to not fall down. Just like a Weeble, she thought, pleased.

Iracebeth stood on the other side of her doorway, peering into the room. Her lips were pressed in a thin, concerned line.

"Enter, please!" the White Queen encouraged. Needing no further prompting, Iracebeth carefully came through the doorway, tilting her head at just the right angle so it did not become stuck in the doorjamb. (For the doorways in Marmoreal were for those individuals with average-sized heads; the only rooms in which the former Red Queen did not need to use Extreme Caution when entering were the Great Hall, the Throne Room, and the Dining Hall--as all of these rooms were designed to allow two persons to enter arm-in-arm. All other entryways were an exercise in spatial relations and coordination for Iracebeth.)

"Oh, Racie!" Mirana continued, "How good it is to see you!" She meant this genuinely, as she had been intending to check on her sister's progress, but as usual, Time had his own Ideas on the matter. (Also, she was sure of her sister's impatience; if she had been intending to kill her, she would have attempted to do so before now, wouldn't she? So it followed at any visit she had with her sister would be a pleasanter one than the last.)

"What is wrong?" Iracebeth repeated.

Shaking her head as if her elder sister were silly, Mirana airly replied, "Nothing!" Her dark lips were stretched into the barest approximation of a smile (as she didn't feel like smiling at all), but Mirana believed that if you smiled enough, even when you didn't feel happy, that the Mind would follow where the Body led. It hadn't worked for her thus far, but she was going to keep trying anyways.

This time it was Iracebeth's turn to give her sister a disbelieving shake of the head. "You've positively frosted over that entire window!" she asserted, pointing a long-nailed finger.

Mirana looked back at the window in question. A thick coating of ice was slathered over the panes, making the view outside impossible to see, even if Mirana had been paying attention to it in the first place. Secretly irritated at this show of weakness, the White Queen simply said, "So I have!" before walking over to a long silver pull cord hidden in one corner of the room. "Shall I call for Tea?" Without waiting for a reply, she pulled (rather harder than what was necessary) on the bell cord, and a faint tinkling could be heard in the distance, followed by a Hare bellowing about Devilishly Early Tea-Times.

Floating over to her desk (feeling much better for having given the hapless bell-cord such a hard yank, she was thus being able to float with much more confidence), Mirana gestured for her sister to sit down.

Iracebeth did not sit, but instead continued to stare at the White Queen. Mirana rather felt like a catalog of her weaknesses were being recorded; she didn't like it, not one bit.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, hoping to get a reaction other than that blank stare. "Have you been drinking all of the tinctures that have been given to you?" Iracebeth certainly seemed calmer--much less homicidal. But her head was still regrettably large, and Mirana had been certain that the size of it would reduce once the medicine began to take effect…

"I am feeling as well as can be expected, one supposes." Iracebeth hedged, her lone hand rubbing the opposing arm's stump. Internally she winced, wishing she had taken the time to consider other ways of separating herself from Stayne (that vile, treacherous slime!), rather than taking his first (rather suspicious, now) enthusiastic suggestion.

The White Queen's eyes softened, and Iracebeth knew she had been mostly successful in dodging the question of the tinctures. The former Red Queen was careful to never tell a lie in the presence of her sister--she being the Queen of White Lies, she would be able to recognize one in an instant, White or not. Now for a bit of further misdirection, of answering without directly saying if she had or had not taken the Potions …(as she would never be so foolish as to willingly take anything stirred by her sister's hand--for all she knew, it would turn her into a sycophantic fool, like all of the other living dolls that decorated her sister's Court--how boring, how dull! What was life without a bit of Imperfection?)

"I have been feeling ever so much better since arriving here, Miri, you can't even know." Truth, that was. She did feel much better, and in a way her sister couldn't know. After all, having one's secret plans so close to fruition did tend to make one giddy. There was a trick to answering questions one did not wish to without lying, and Iracebeth had learned it long ago.

"Things have been much clearer." she continued, still standing. Mirana would not sit until she did, and Iracebeth enjoyed the petty opportunity of continuing to make her sister stand uncomfortably.

"I just wanted you to know that I think you taking me in the way you did was an act of kindness I did not deserve" (still true, as Iracebeth felt she deserved much more) "and that I would never have done such a thing were I in your place. There are those that would say that makes you a better person than I." (She certainly would not have allowed her sniveling sister back into her presence once Banished--in fact, she never would have Banished her at all, but instead, chopped her head clean off, right then and there!)

Lowering her head, Iracebeth batted her eyelashes in a coy manner, even as she wondered if doing so was a bit much, but it seemed it was just enough, for she could see tears glittering in her foolishly sentimental sister's eyes. "Truth be told, when I first came to you, I had every intention of taking off your head at the first opportunity I had. That has…changed."

Oh, it had changed, all right, Iracebeth thought, watching as her sister lapped up her words with guilty desperation. Now Iracebeth planned to grasp her by her White hair, tilt her pimple-sized head back, and slit her throat. She'd hold onto her by that same ridiculous White hair until all of her blue blood had drained from her body, and then she'd toss her aside, and bathe herself in the colors of her new Reign. Blue, for the blood shed to regain the Throne, and Silver, for the knife that did the spilling.

Before another word could be spoken between the sisters, a blue Butterfly appeared between the two, fluttering in mid-air. "I am sorry to interrupt, Your Majesty…" Absolem said, giving a sideways look to the former Red Queen standing behind him, "But you did tell me to report as soon as I had returned."

Mirana started. "Oh, of course. No need to apologize, Absolem. I am sorry, Miri, but could we have our Tea at another Time? I do need to address this now." This was another one of Mirana's infamous White Lies; she technically could have waited to speak with Absolem, but she simply felt so uncomfortable in her sister's presence that she was seizing the first opportunity to usher her from the room. She regretted calling for the Tea tray.

So this was the infamous Absolem, Iracebeth thought. He didn't look very impressive for being the Keeper of the Oraculum, but then, she had been vastly unimpressed with that particular Parchment itself, as well. When had the creature metamorphosed? It had been last known by her Court Spies that he was a Caterpillar. She would allow him to stay on in her Court, she decided on a whim. His blue coloring would match the new theme, and she rather liked butterflies. "It is no problem at all, Miri. Don't fret yourself. I will see you later tonight, after all." Iracebeth smiled, curtsied without much enthusiasm, and then carefully twisted herself back out of the room, shutting the door behind her when she left.

Absolem flittered closer to Mirana, landing just before her on the desk. "Much has changed since I have been Above. How long has it been?"

"Not as long as you'd think, for all the changes that have been wrought." Mirana replied, plunking herself down in her chair, glad to no longer be stewing in the awkwardness of her sister's presence. "It is just outside of a week and one half since the Frabjous Day."

Lifting a tiny eyebrow, Absolem drawled, "Really? That is not long at all. I was Above for a human year."

"That long!" Mirana cried. "Well, then you must be full of news for me!"

"I do have news, as well as a missive from the Wall." Absolem condescended to tell her. "But first things first, Mirana. In all the Time I was Above, I had no access to Shire-weed. Produce your supply." He waited patiently as Mirana sputtered, gaped, and briefly considered telling the Butterfly that she certainly would not have immediate access to the weed, before giving in to her final inclination.

Laughing, she said, "It seems I have no secrets from you, old friend!" The top left hand drawer of her desk was pulled open, and she extracted a small bag of the dried, crumbled herb, and a milky-white glass hooka. Placing both upon the desk, she set about preparing the hooka, pausing to frown the barest bit at the mouthpiece, then the Butterfly. "I am afraid you are currently physically unable to use my hooka, Absolem."

"No matter, no matter!" the Butterfly said impatiently, launching himself to flit in front of the Queen's face. "Smoke it yourself and blow in my direction! That will have to do for now!"

The Queen shrugged and complied. When Absolem was satisfied that the room was sufficiently smoky for his comfort, he began to tell Mirana of what he had learned while Above. This mainly consisted of messages relayed from Aboveground Monarchies, some of which had not received a communication from Underland since just before Iracebeth seized control. The Tea service Mirana had ordered was placed on her table by a nearly silent Fish Butler during the course of this talk, but Mirana was too distracted by the colorful stories the Butterfly weaved for her to be much interested in Tea.

"England's Queen was particularly put out that we were intending on keeping one of their citizens. She kept demanding that we provide reparation in the form of an Underlandian citizen being placed in her care; it took a full day of talking before she realized that, whatever our intentions of the matter were, Alice herself had a different view of it, and did not stay in Underland after all." Smirking, the former Caterpillar said, "Then I had to spend an entire new day with her pouting about the lost opportunity to 'own' a talking Cat."

"You offered her Chessur?" Mirana said, wickedly pleased at the Idea.

"I believed he would find the Concept amusing." Absolem nodded, and both gave rather undignified giggling huffs, an action quite opposite of what others believed to comprise their characters.

The Letter from the Wall was next on their agenda, and was discussed with much more seriousness than Aboveground business had been. It was a general letter of congratulations on reclaiming the Throne--coupled with a formal invitation to visit the City beyond the Wall. Pros and cons of such a trip were dissected, with Absolem being of the mind that Mirana should attend, and she being of the mind she should not. They agreed to set the matter aside, finally, when it became clear that neither was going to agree with the other, at least at the moment, and revisit it later.

Mirana was preparing to dismiss Absolem, (as her bag of Shire-weed was now empty, and she knew his temper would rise if he could not have access to More soon) when the Butterfly cleared his throat, and said, in the most serious voice she'd ever heard him use (as he'd always sounded at least secretly amused to her, and this voice held none of that. It was unsettling in its newness.) "There is one other matter we need to discuss, your Majesty."

Alarmed enough that she felt the languor smoking always gave her leave her appendages, Mirana asked, "What is it, Absolem?"

"Do you still have the Oraculum in your possession?"

"Yes, of course." Mirana replied, rising to fetch it from the place of honor it held on her bookshelf. She glanced out the window as she passed it by, happy to see all of the frost had cleared away, the view to the courtyard below now unobstructed. The Oraculum was pulled down and unrolled before the Butterfly, and they both stared at it for several moments. Their present day, the day they were currently having, the Wantiempug Day (that was known throughout Underland for only being an exceptional day on the Compendium for its illustration of a Minor Flower Dispute, and the Beauty Contest that followed) was blank.

"It is as I feared." Absolem said.

In fact, all of the days since Alice's arrival back to Underland were blank, and all the days in the future were as well. A slowly swirling dot of ink bounced backwards and drew in the previous days as they watched. It began with the first day Alice stepped through the Glass as an adult, the Tansing Day. It showed the Hatter receiving his Paper in Somewhere Else (which was depicted in the drawing as a quaint stone Bridge) followed by his impromptu concert.

The next day, the Salvmantu Day, depicted her own self and Chessur deep in discussion, followed by Alice and Stayne being surrounded by a ring of Outlanders.

The days then began to seemingly melt together as the Parchment feverishly redrew (for that was indeed what the Oraculum was doing). It depicted Mirana placing a long-fingered hand over the Hatter's, and his own withdrawing from hers; Alice, digging through the rubble of a House on Hightopp Hill; a Crown being placed upon Alice's head from the sky above, as Stayne kneeled at her feet (Mirana and Absolem both made noises of Shock at this); Chessur watching over the Hatter as he slept in a narrow bed--more and more images, until the White Queen's eyes crossed from trying to follow them all.

She blinked heavily, and when she reopened her eyes, the previous days were completely re-drawn. However, the future days, which had all been filled in at one point in Time, were still ominously blank.

"It has done this before." Mirana said, and Absolem made a noise of agreement.

"Yes. Right before the Horvendush Day."

The Butterfly and woman exchanged a long look. Each knew what that meant. Someone, or something, was re-writing what was to occur in Underland. What had been being directed by Fate was now under the direction of Free Will. Large, unexpected events had this affect on the Compendium--it could be days, even weeks, before the Future would completely re-write itself to fit this new Future.

"D'ye see anything?"

"Not so much." Deagmond the Magpie answered his wife, Cantara, sighing as he looked through the Telescope. "You, Leander?"

"Nay, sir, there is nothing here save ourselves and this blasted smoke." the Telescope replied. "Why ye be feeling the smoke necessary, anyways? I could see much further wit'out it, ye know."

Deagmond collapsed the Telescope, having received all the answer from it he would, and not in the mood to listen to it complain on top of everything else. Leander gave several muffled complaints about this treatment, but was duly ignored, save for the Cantara muttering, "Smoke! Honestly, acts like he's never been inside of a Cloud before."

"I believe it's Time to tell Bifrost and the others." Deagmond said carried on, a grim note in his voice.

"But the Champion has to be here! She was just here a moment ago! We were both prepared--we were both needful, husband, being the Two for the Joy our couple were to be feeling! What could have possibly happened to make us wrong?" Cantara ruffled her feathers, trying to dispel the feeling of dread from her hollow bones.

"It must mean that the one we fought to keep away, the one that Cat (Cat was said with the type of loathing that only a Bird can summon for the species) warned us of, has succeeded. We have failed in our duty to protect the Lovers of the Bridge."

"No! She was here, Deagmond, and so was he! They were to be together! This isn't how it was supposed to be!" Cantara brought one dark wing up and wiped at her eyes. "This is China, all over again. Bifrost is going to be intolerable about this, you know. He said we should just let things be."

"Don't say that!" Deagmond admonished. "We were both young then, and in a dispute with a foreign deity, to boot! Twas not our fault things turned out the way they did!"

"Will you say this is not our fault, as well, should we not be able to recover her?" Cantara demanded, small eyes shining in the darkness. "You are right on one thing." she sniffed, and wiped at her eyes again. "It is Time to tell the others."

Deagmond put the folded up telescope away in pouch slung cross-ways on his body and hopped over to his wife, draping one half-bent wing carefully over her. "Come, we'll tell them together. Then we'll figure out what we're to do next."

Bits of sod flew upwards from the earth from the impact of the Horse's hooves, splattering Stayne's shins and thighs with bits of dirt. This, along with a sinking feeling in the bottom of his gut concerning Alice (that felt rather like worry…but no, that couldn't be it!) and Snellum's constant nagging made for a very foul Knave.

"Will…you…slow…down?" Snellum cried, his words being broken apart each time the hooves came down. Even tucked away as he was in a snug (too snug, if the Mouse was to be believed) pocket in Stayne's leathers, he was being jarred with each violent step their horse took, his already sore body being inflamed into misery.

"Oh, shut up!" Stayne snapped, having no sympathy for the small rodent's injuries, despite being the one to cause them. In fact, he spurred the Horse on faster. It turned back to him and gave him a gimlet eye, but said nothing, feeling the warrior's urgency. This Horse, being a practical one, was used to the whims and worries of overly-large males, having previously been the mount of the Head Knight of Ni. He didn't appreciate being given away casually as a Crowning Tithe (even to a seemingly pleasant Queen as Alice), but was determined to not instantly dislike his new Rider for that reason alone. If this Rider continued on in the manner he was though, without even giving Parick (as this was the horse's name) a drink of water, there was going to be a problem between them.

"If you don't like the way I'm riding," the Knave continued to snarl, "You are more than welcome to the other horse."

Parick snorted in amusement, imagining his companion's reaction to such a small and insignificant creature riding him when just the day before she had been promised as the Mount of a Queen. Had he been able to watch Paricia in that moment, he would not have been disappointed. Snellum, though, was less amused than Parick. He peeked out of his relatively safe leather pocket and looked over at the Mare, who was doing her best to keep up with Parick's longer strides. She turned her head just enough to have one of her eyes catch the Mouse's, and bared all of her large, blocky teeth at him, the warning there clear enough.

"I'm fine where I'm at!" Snellum squeaked, sinking back down into Stayne's pocket. This time all three of the others snorted, glad for the silence the Mouse left in the wake of his fear of Paricia. (While it would last, that is.)

For an hour they barreled ahead in this manner; an hour full of refusing-to-call-it-so-yet-it-still-was worry clawing at Stayne's insides; an hour of Snellum's moaning complaints, of the Horses becoming steadily more exhausted by the punishing pace they were maintaining. And, as it was bound to happen, with an overly-large Banished man riding hell-for-leather towards the seat of the land he had been Banished from, they were rudely and abruptly stopped.

"Halt there!" the voices cried, and Stayne was of a mind to not listen to them a whit; Parick, though, being a Good Intentioned horse, stopped suddenly, nearly causing the Knave to fall off seat. (It must be said that Parick, as well as having Good Intentions, was also relieved to be able to take a small break, and gather is breath while whatever-this-was sorted itself out.)

Several Pawns came out of the woods, holding their spears high. Scoffing a bit, (Pawns indeed--like they could stop him?) Stayne demanded, "You will let us through. We have urgent business in Marmoreal! The White Queen's life depends on us reaching our destination."

"That, I believe." A new voice said, this one much higher in pitch than the coarse tones that demanded they stop. Stayne stiffened where he sat, and all three of the animals with him recognized his reaction to the voice as being Not Good. "Although would it not be more accurate to say that the Queen's life depends upon you not reaching your destination?"

More rustling, and an extremely short, rotund woman exited the brush. The hat upon her head was two-pronged, swathed with gauzy fabric between its points, and nearly as tall as the woman was herself, neatly doubling her height. Her bulbous nose was what one noticed next about her; indeed, it was hard to miss, as it took up nearly her entire face. Wide, thin lips frowned imperiously at the man before her, and her square, blunt fingers curled themselves into fists, which she placed upon her hips. She was clearly a woman used to being obeyed, and she expected no less in this instance. "You will stand down, Ilosovic, and get off of that ridiculously ill-bred Horse this instance!"

"Who is that?" Snellum asked, daring to look out the barest bit from Stayne's pocket, and slightly horrified by what he saw.

"That is the Duchess." Stayne replied, hand going to his sword hilt. "My mother."

Mirana and Absolem were still staring at a few of the various images the Oraculum had just revealed to them of the recent past when the door to the study burst open, and the Hatter, Chess, and Mallymkun all tumbled into the room. The White Queen took one look at the stricken expression on the Hatter's face, and blurted out, the concern she held for the man not allowing her to hold her tongue, "By the Winter's Chill, Tarrant, what has happened?"

"That which turns my very heart and blood to Ice, your Majesty." he replied, eyes swirling blue. "Alice has been taken from my grasp--by the Jabberwock."

"Impossible, Hatter." Absolem huffed. "Alice herself slew the Jabberwock on the Frabjous Day."

"It is only impossible if you believe it to be, and obviously, the Jabberwocky did not believe in that possibility!" the Hatter snapped back. "We need to consult the Oraculum immediately, to know where he has absconded her away to!"

"That…may be a problem, Hatta." Mirana said, brown eyes very large in her face. The Ice which he had referred to being in his blood seemed to gather in her own as the depth of the danger Alice was in, and her own inability to help her Champion, threatened to overwhelm her.

"What could be the problem?" Mally said, stepping in when the Hatter's eyes changed from blue to putrid yellow. "Look, you already have it out upon the desk!"

Chessur evaporated from where he was sprawled out on the floor (as he had ended in a rather undignified heap when the Hatter had forced his way into the room) and re-appeared atop Mirana's head. She squawked at the sudden weight, and he obligingly re-formed himself beside the Oraculum instead of atop the White Queen's skull. "Well, that is a problem." he said, wincing as he looked at the Scroll. He glanced up at Hatter, apology in his eyes. "Mirana will not be able to help us recover Alice, Tarrant. The Future on the Oraculum is blank, and it recorded your mutual trips Somewhere Else not at all."

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