Fic: Drawing Muchness

[ingenious_spark]

Title: Drawing Muchness
Fandom: Assassin's Creed 1
Rating: G
Warnings: none
Relationships: Alice Kingsleigh/Tarrant Hightopp
Characters: Alice Kingsleigh, Ensemble Cast
Word Count: 7579
Summary: "Did you ever see such a thing as a drawing of a muchness?"
Snippets of life before, during and after Alice's adventures in Underland.
"Right-proper Alice-size is best for Alices."

1) Course

Tea was much more interesting than supper in Underland. For one thing, you didn’t have to wait for all the courses to come out, one at a time and so dreadfully slowly. For another, there weren’t any scones. Thackery examined his careful place-setting, as Mallymkun poked him with a hatpin whenever she saw the crazed gleam appear in his eyes. He really wanted to throw something at the straight-faced noble who sat a little ways down the long table. Just to see what he’d do.

2) History

History has a bothersome habit of repeating itself. Nivens would have given it a good dressing down if he could find it. But his consistent lateness did not give him a chance to catch up with history. It was all some practical joke that was played on him. Even the oversized pocket watch didn’t help the hapless rabbit. He mentally cursed history as he ran to his appointment with Mirana. Even the Queen knew that he would be late.

3) Curtsey

When she is shown up to Mirana’s quarters she drops a deep curtsey. Despite her complaints, she did pay attention to all her lessons of etiquette, mostly for the fun of musing on how the stuffy tutors would take different violations of that etiquette. She has only been back in Underland two days, and she is still uncertain of her position, doesn’t know whether or not she will be accepted, or shunned for her sudden departure.

But Mirana proves her title true, when she gives a light, musical chuckle, and tells her that (in private, at least) curtseys were unnecessary.

4) White

Mirana makes a much better Queen than Iracebeth, and all of Underland knows it. The realm is flourishing once more, the villages ravaged by the Red Queen being rebuilt. The symbol of the White Queen’s rule was the palace in Marmoreal, the gleaming white edifice still managing to be somehow benevolent. The Red Castle had fallen to disrepair, and there was some rumor of demolition, as the place had been home to such sadness and violence. Yes, the White Queen’s rule was infinitely preferable to that of the Red.

5) Know

Mirana Knows. In the two months Alice has been back everything seems brighter. Every one of her friends has been much happier, including (and especially) the Royal Hatter. Mirana has offered Alice the official position of Queen’s Champion. It’s actually a much more involved job than Alice had thought. The Queen’s Champion is essentially her bodyguard, and Alice takes to it like Thackery to broken crockery. She’s been learning fighting from a pair of female Knights and an effeminate Rook, and she’s already excelling. She is most definitely Alice, and Mirana basks in that light of self-discovery.

Alice is not stupid, not like Absolem claims; “stupid girl,” as much as it is spoken with affection nowadays. Mirana is very frustrated about the blonde’s obtuseness concerning one particular individual, though.

Mirana Knows.

6) Glanced

Mallymkun glanced out the window and sighed. Tarrant was walking with Alice again, expressive hands gesticulating broadly as he expounded on something, as Alice smiled at him fondly. She has some grudging respect for the girl, and she knows that her own adoration of Tarrant is strictly one-sided; the Hatter views her as a close and dear friend. Alice is another story. Alice has everything Mallymkun had wanted for herself, and it is so very hard to let go.

7) Gentle

How had it started? She was such a gentle, kind, and innocent child. Curious and open-minded about everything. Yes, she did have a bit of difficulty understanding the ways of Underland at first, but every time that girl came, she brought with her a newness that Tarrant enjoyed. Of course it took a while for him to realize how much he enjoyed it. And when she left after the battle, he realized that it was more than the newness, it was Alice.

He tried to hide his feelings, knowing that if he held on to them his heart would break. After all, she lived in Overland; she went back to her life there every time.

“Maybe she’ll come back.” He murmured to himself after watching her drink the phial of purple liquid and leave him for the world she came from. Her smile as she was swept away was the same, gentle, gentle and beautiful. Tarrant had smiled back at her vanishing form.

“It’s not just gentle,” he thought, “it’s love.”

8) Jam

“I love jam!” Tarrant exclaimed. Alice smiled sweetly, hiding a laugh.

“I know, my dear. But you really should put it on the toast. I can’t imagine that jammy tea tastes terribly good.” She said. The Hatter examined where he had been about to put his knife-full of raspberry jam. It was, indeed, his teacup.

“Hmm.” He snagged the slice of toast the March Hare flung at him. “Terribly good of you, old chap.” He remarked. “Much better. What would I do without you, Alice?”

“Drink a cupful of jammy tea, I imagine.”

9) Hatter

He was the Royal Hatter once more. Mirana, dear, sweet woman that she was, had offered to make him a Lord, for his ‘valiance in defense of Underland’ but he declined. He didn’t really want a Lordship. The only things in life he wanted was a workshop, some good tea and…

And what had been whisked away from him by a phial of Jabberwocky blood.

10) Shawl

Alice pulled the heavy tartan shawl tighter around her shoulders as she wandered out of the bedroom. She smiled at what she saw there. Really, it was so nice of Mirana to find them this little cottage by the sea for their wedding trip. She smiled, and crept up behind her new husband. He was busy preparing a pot of tea, along with some of her favorite savory scones. She slid her arms around his waist and he jumped a little.

“Good morning, Husband.” She said, thrilling in the word. She could see an almost-identical warm smile spread over his face from the looking-glass on the wall.

“Good morning, Wife.” He replied, before turning and catching her lips in a kiss.

11) Garden

Tarrant and Alice were taking tea in the small garden, just the two of them for a change. Tarrant seemed more jittery than usual to Alice, though he had calmed down a considerable amount now that the Red Queen had been defeated. She knew it had been pretty bad whilst she had been gone, as well, but now she had accomplished what she’d returned Above to do, and she was now here, where she belonged, for the rest of her life. She just wished Tarrant would get it into his skull that she wasn’t leaving again, not if she could help it.

She broke from her musing when Tarrant pulled something from his pocket and pressed it into her palm, folding her fingers over it and gently kissed her knuckles. When he released her hand she opened her fingers curiously, and her breath hitched at what she saw there.

“Will you?” He asked hopefully. A radiant smile broke out over her face even as tears misted her eyes.

“Of course I will, my silly mad Hatter.” She said, and he slipped the ring onto her finger.

12) Jabberwocky

Despite his overwhelming power, the Jabberwocky had an inner feeling of helplessness. Being a villain was no small job, but being a villain who has tricked himself into believing that happily-ever-after could be thwarted was even worse.

He worked for Iracebeth, the Red Queen, because he had to. He was always defeated because he must be. Life was so unfair. “Why can’t evil triumph over good just once” he mused as he waited his next glorious defeat.

13) Moment

Queen for a time, then the next moment, outcast. Iracebeth of Crims scowled at the barren, brown wasteland that she was forced to live in, overlooking Illosovic’s sleeping form. She vented her anger by stamping the ground, raising a considerable amount of dust.

“It should have been me!” She said to no one in particular. Then lapsed into silence. How did it begin, she wondered, looking back through her memories. She was the eldest. And with such a large head, oughtn’t she be the smartest? Glory and power had been snatched away from her so quickly. She had been a Queen, and then in a moment, she became an outcast.

14) Nothing

Chessur was bored. The war was over, the Jabberwocky was dead, and everything was back to normal. Well, as normal as can be expected in Underland. Chess wasn’t usually bored, however after all the excitement and action normality (as much normality as can be expected) seemed rather dull. Nothing was happening. He perched lazily on a tree, phasing in and out of visible existence.

“I think I’ll take a stroll around the White Palace.” He said aloud to no one in particular. He was a cat, and even evaporating cats must always appear at their best, aloof and nonchalant. He was sure that the nothingness problem would soon become something. Alice was visiting the Queen today.

15) Fire-irons

Who knew that summer in Underland would be so cold. Alice poked at the dying embers in the hearth with the fire-iron. In the first year of her life as Alice Hightopp, she had encountered all sorts of pleasantly unusual things. One of them being the odd change of seasons; Summer was Winter and Spring was Autumn. Only in name though; to Alice winter was when the world turned white with snow and became cold. She sighed, and tossed a few more logs onto the fire, poking at them absentmindedly. Tarrant was dozing on a well-cushioned chair, muttering in his sleep.

“No, no, green would suit your color more, less ribbon more braid.” Well, she thought affectionately, he is a Hatter.

16) Cried

Tea with her sister was always an Affair. Ever since the failed engagement party, that is. She’d come up even more headstrong than normal, and even gone to China! It was unheard of, but Margaret still loved her sister. She’d been back for a month now, and Margaret had the oddest feeling. She didn’t know quite how to qualify it.

“Maggie, dear, I have to go now.” Her sister’s bright voice broke through the haze of thought that had descended upon Margaret. She looked up with a smile, but it faltered at Alice’s unusually somber expression. “Always remember that I love you dearly, sister-mine.” She said, enfolding Margaret in an embrace. She hugged her sister back tightly, unexpected tears prickling her eyes. “Goodbye.” Alice said, kissing her on the cheek. Margaret returned the fond kiss and saw her sister off, even as the strange feeling became a foreboding knot in her chest.

“Goodbye, little Alice.”

The next day, Lord Ascot came to them with a sealed letter, in which Alice explained that she had met a man in trade on her travels and decided to elope with him, but not to worry because she was so very happy with him. She realized what that last tea party had been – her sister saying goodbye for the last time. And she did the only thing left to do.

She cried.

17) Tone

“I don’t care much for the tone of your voice.” Alice said sharply. Chessur looked completely unabashed. “It is one thing to tease me about my relationships, it is completely another to purposely provoke my husband.” She eyed him. “One would think you had a death-wish. Haven’t you heard that curiosity killed the cat?” Chessur was startled.

“She did? When did that happen?” He questioned. Alice just gave an aggravated sigh and left to calm her husband down.

18) Stupid

“Stupid girl.” Absolem murmured, rose-flavored tobacco swirling around him like a cloud. “At this rate she’s going to stay only almost Alice, and then we’re all doomed.” He thought a little longer, then sighed. He would obviously have to go to Marmoreal. He hated travelling.

It was for his stupid girl, though, so that made it slightly more bearable.

19) Muchness

She came through the looking-glass into the White Palace, where most of her dear friends were waiting. She was immediately surrounded, and wished-well enough for a lifetime, but all she could do was laugh, and reassure them she was staying. Once the ruckus had died down, Mirana swooped in with a young Pawn, who was asked kindly to please carry the Lady Champion’s luggage to her chambers. Then Mirana quickly showed her where she was to stay, before drawing her into a little parlor and sitting down with a very solemn face.

“What Is the matter, Majesty?” She asked quietly.

“It’s Hatter. I think you need to go to him now. There will be a carriage waiting at the gates.” She replied, and saw her off. She was deposited where she had first met the dear Mad Hatter, and asked the horse to kindly wait, and she amiably agreed, dropping her head to browse the tufty grass. She hurried behind the old windmill, to the place where the tea party was, and almost tripped in surprise. Tarrant was sitting asleep in the chair at the head of the table, looking thinner and more colorless than ever, and almost unhealthy. She quickly hurried to his side, clasping one bandaged, bethimbled hand in hers, and laying a warm palm on his cheek. He jerked awake, and grey eyes lifted to meet hers.

“Oh, Hatter! You’ve lost your muchness.” She says in a shaky voice. Grey eyes blinked into green and a smile blossoms on his face.

“D’ye think ye c’n ‘elp me find it, lass?” He asked, Scottish burr and all, and she nodded, smiling.

“I’d be happy to.”

20) Vorpal

The legendary Vorpal Sword lay in the Armory. It had done its duty, killed the Jabberwocky, and yet, it felt rather unfulfilled. Before it had its moment of glory, the sword was all anticipation and self confidence. It could kill the beast, that’s what it was made for wasn’t it? But, it couldn’t do anything else. If a sword could sigh unhappily, this one would. Alice used the sword, rather like helping it to fulfill it’s destiny, but Alice had more to do than slice a head of with the Vorpal Sword. Being a weapon of destiny wasn’t any fun after destiny was done with it.

21) Alice

When all was said and done in Underland, the lack of immediate danger and general chaos gave Alice time to think about all that had happened. What bothered her most was the question, “Is she the right Alice?”

The question had not had enough time to really sort itself out and be answered. But now that it was given time, it had made its way from the back of Alice’s mind to the front, where it made itself seem important.

“Am I really Alice?”

22) Some

Some days Alice spends time in her husband’s workshop, watching him work. He protested, saying that the mercury fumes and whatnot could not be good for her health. Sometimes he even gets himself worked up into a ramble, and Alice must frame his face with her hands and bring him back to relative sanity.

Some days Alice spends time out in the gardens with a book, generally beside the duck-pond. She’s hoping for some very unladylike freckles, and Chessur often pops up to tease her about that. Sometimes Tarrant will join her, if he’s reached a lull in his work.

Some days she has to perform her duties and shadow the Queen, since she swore to take up the more official duties wrapped up in being the Queen’s Champion. She dislikes these days the most.

Some days she gets to lie in bed until ridiculous hours with her husband, and she likes these days best of all.

23) Mock

There is something missing in the White Queen’s court, Alice mused, as she stood in her place behind the Queen’s left shoulder. She couldn’t quite place what it was until one of the Ladies gave a bright, merry chuckle at something one of the Lords had just said. Then it dawns on her.

High Society as she was used to it was much more like the Red Queen’s court, full of sniping, scorn, people jostling for position and favor, and, worst of all, mocking laughter. There was none of that in the White Queen’s court, and it felt odd. She was so used to being looked down upon as eccentric and strange, possibly even unmarriable. The only person more looked-down upon was Aunt Imogene, and Alice had not wanted to end up like her. Though Aunt Imogene was a dear in her own right.

She ducked her head to hide a smile. It was so nice to not be mocked.

24) Knock

A soft knock sounded at her door and Mirana softly called acceptance. Alice came in bearing a pitcher of lemonade with raspberries and ice, and two glasses. She set them down on the desk before coming to Mirana.

“Hullo Miri.” She said softly, sitting gently on the edge of the bed and gathering up one slender white hand in her pale ones. “McTwisp said you were feeling under the weather.” Mirana struggled to rise, but Alice gently pushed her back.

“I’m fine, it’s nothing serious.” Mirana insisted. She wilted a little from Alice’s gently admonishing look. “My entire head aches, my eyes are burning and my joints ache.” She admitted lowly. Alice rose, and poured out a glass of the very tempting liquid. She returned and helped Mirana sit up against her pillows and steadied the glass when Mirana’s hands shook.

“I’ve ordered the cooks to send up broths, juices and water, you need to keep your fluids up. I’ve rescheduled everything, so don’t worry about it, and I’ve sent for a physician. I’m surprised you don’t have one on staff.” She told her softly. Mirana chuckled sheepishly, the sound delicate and fragile.

“It’s very rare that I ever get ill.” She admitted. Alice smiled warmly down at her. Even if it was rare, she’d still be glad to help her second sister get well again.

Although she was holding it to the Queen to return the favor if Alice contracted it.

25) Winds

A not-quite-cold wind danced across the Outlands. Iracebeth of Crims, formerly the Red Queen, shivered and sneezed at the same time. It was horrible living here, where there was a lot of nothing. The nothing was rather large, but it was still nothing. She hated it here. The nights were not quite cool enough, the day was not quite hot enough, and the wind was always blowing. Not a cold bitter wind, nor a warm friendly wind. Just wind.

She tried using Illosovic’s body as a shield against the hated wind. But he had firmly refused to move, and further more, was giving her the silent treatment. Although his attempts to kill her had ceased, he still radiated a feeling of animosity that felt worse than the wind.

26) Portmanteau

“What is ‘frumious’, Tarrant?” Alice asked from her position in the window seat of his workshop. He looked up from his hat, a delicate thing of black lace and plum satin one of the Ladies of court had ordered. She held a collected volume of Underlandian prophecy. He grinned. Reading her own prophecy, was she? Good for her. He hadn’t had time to recite it all to her. “Tarrant?” Right, back on track, wife was looking worried again.

“Frumious is one of those words that’s two words smashed together.” He said brightly.

“A portmanteau, you mean?” Alice inquired. Tarrant nodded brightly.

“Just so. This one is the combination of ‘fuming’ and ‘furious’ – frumious, you see? Or hear as the case may be, unless you can hear with your eyes. In which case you would be far more unique than I had previously supposed, being as not many people at all can hear with their eyes, and I shouldn’t want it to ever be known that I doubted your uniqueness, because really I didn’t–”

“Tarrant!” Alice said, hands once more framing his face, and bright blue eyes looking worriedly into his. He blinked, startled. He hadn’t even registered her moving.

“Unique – eyes. I’m fine.” He said, shaking his head a little. “A little bit crowded again.” She smiled.

“You’re fine.”

27) Tease

“You are such a tease.” She sighed breathlessly, laying her head on his shoulder. Tarrant laughed, spinning them around on the dance floor. Alice snuggled into his arms a little more. They were finally married, after months of dancing around the subject.

Hatter had had the ring, but hadn’t quite ever found the right time to ask. He’d finally gotten fed-up and just given it to her over tea. She loved it. She glanced down to her left hand, feeling butterflies tease her insides. (She really had to talk to Absolem about that…) It was a simple ring, a thin, white gold band set with a small iridescent opal. She liked the stone – it winked a thousand different colours in different light, much like her beloved’s eyes. It was, in her mind, perfect.

28) March Hare

The saying “Mad as a March Hare” was no mere saying in Underland. Sometimes Thackery tried harder than usual to live up to the title. His normally crazed twitchy self sometimes liked to be more twitchy. The obsessive throwing of culinary objects gave him extreme pleasure. There was something about using a teacup as an aerial projectile that made him feel happy. He rather enjoyed being mad, sometimes accentuating the personality by laughing and muttering maniacally.

Chessur floated into the kitchen where he was promptly accosted by a thrown sugar bowl. He evaporated to let it pass harmlessly through the air where his head had been, then reappeared next to Thackery.

“Good shot, as usual.” He said calmly. The March Hare grinned at him and flung the sugar spoon after it.

“Well,” Chessur said, “I thought I should tell you that Mirana is on her way to the kitchen, and you might try to refrain from throwing that scone at the Queen.”

Chessur grinned and vanished. Thackery grinned and selected a muffin. Muffins weren’t scones!

29) Armour

She was glorious. She stood at the top of the ruins, light peeking through the clouds and lighting her hair like a halo, silver armour ablaze with light. Both Mirana and Tarrant paid little attention to the Jabberwocky’s head bouncing in a macabre fashion down the spiralling stairs, for slightly different reasons.

But with the same conclusion – she was akin to a shining being come down from the heavens to set them free, some ancient, untold avenging power.

And she was glorious.

30) Guinea-pig

“I say, she were the size of a guinea-pig last-times she arrived. How come she’s so great-big now?” Tweedledee asked, puzzled. His brother elbowed him in the side.

“No, she were the size of a cat. Chessur-sized, if I say so meself.” Tweedledum objected.

“Surely not. If she were Chessur-sized, than what size would Chessur be?” Tweedledee asked, annoyed.

“Boys!” Nivens stopped the argument before it got too much more convoluted. “She came through the looking-glass this time, not the rabbit hole, therefore there was no need for her to undergo size changes.” He explained. The light dawned on two chubby faces.

“Right-proper Alice-size is best for Alices.” Tweedledee concludes. Tweedledum, for once, agrees.

31) Pray

Mirana was deposed in a rather violent fashion. In the middle of a May-Day celebration, no less. She still feels achingly heartsick about the Hightopp clan’s fate, even more so because Tarrant Hightopp had been the one to keep his head on relatively straight and lead her to a safe place. She feels so guilty. At the same time, she knows she could have done nothing to prevent it – this was destined, as Absolem revealed, bringing the Oraculum with him. He is its sacred Keeper after all.

So she does the only thing she can. She prays – prays to whoever might be listening to one desperate woman’s plea.

‘Let my Champion arrive, and let my people be free once more.’

32) Watch

It’s amazing how Time flies in Underland. That is, when it’s not confined to the regular tick-tock monotone of a watch. Time’s most hated watch happened to belong to Tarrant Hightopp, a very mad hatter. He is such a bully, the thought of threatening to kill Time made it rather anxious, and so Time tried to leave Hatter alone. Which was hard when Hatter needed to consult Time to check and see that he was on time for a date with Alice.

The March Hare, he was rather annoying, but not as intimidating as Hatter. Thackery had one of those restraining contraptions in his pocket, but he never bothered Time with it. In fact, time was sure Thackery’s watch was kept securely on the chain to prevent the Hare from hurling it across the room, breaking it to bits. Time hated bits. But being dunked in teacups, full or not, was an acceptable alternative to bits.

Time only enjoyed being confined in that contraption when Nivens carried it. Time thoroughly enjoyed speeding up, or slowing down to accommodate the rabbit’s lateness. It seems a rather pointless waste of Time, but even wasted Time has to have a hobby.

33) Cheshire-Cat

Lounging midst the foliage of a large tree, Chessur watched Alice as she wandered through the gardens. She was obviously looking for him; Chessur could always tell when he was wanted. He raised a paw and batted at a falling leaf, allowing himself to ignore Alice for a moment.

“Chessur! Chess, I need to talk to you.” Alice called out. She wasn’t exactly sure how to find the Cheshire-Cat, and this was the first time she had actually tried. Usually he found her, most of the time he came just to bother her, or to give odd, yet useful advice. Now that she thought about it, this was the first time anyone had purposefully looked for him. “Chessur! Please come out here!”

“You called?” A familiar voice purred from behind Alice. “I was waiting for the ‘please’, really, I know you have good enough manners to ask politely.” The grinning cat said teasingly.

“I’ve got a favour to ask you.” Alice said, coming right to the point before Chessur could go off on a tangent and make her forget her original reason for wanting him.

“I’m in a good mood today,” Chessur said condescendingly. “What do you want? Bear in mind you might not get it.” He evaporated next to her left shoulder and laid his head on his paws.

“Well, You know I’m getting married in a week.” She managed to say casually. Chessur nodded. “I have the Tweedles for ring bearers, Mally is the maid of honour, Tarrant has recruited Thackery as best man, and the Queen is presiding over the whole thing.” She paused and took a deep breath. “So, I was wondering if you would consent to be the father of the bride.” She finished rather quickly.

“Oh, you need me then.” He smiled, almost conceitedly. “I’ve always liked you, you know. And it’s been ages since anyone has asked me that, never in fact, which makes ages of time very, very long.” He changed to a spot by her right shoulder. After giving Alice a considering look he said simply, “I would be honoured.”

34) Tiger-lily

“Lady Alice!” The two small girls chorused, running out to meet her. She’d been overseeing a lot of the work on the rebuilding of Witzend and several other razed towns, and finding and reuniting families that had been torn asunder by the Red Queen’s regime. She’d been working with the girl’s father, who’d been imprisoned for not being able to pay Iracebeth’s crippling taxes, and she’d put the word out through her network that He was looking for his family. They’d been reunited, and his two little girls, Rosalinda and Mirabelle had looked on her with abject adoration ever since. She didn’t mind, though. The girls were the life of the worksites; reminding the workers what they were doing all this for. They would often bring the workers water, or help their mother bring out the lunch that all the women would make every day.

Today was a rest-day, though, and Alice had offered to take the girls so that their parents could have some time to themselves. She smiled and knelt to greet them, returning their enthusiastic hugs with her own. Their mother watched indulgently from the doorway until Alice untangled herself, then engulfed the blonde girl in a hug of her own.

“It’s so good of you to do this, Lady Alice.” She said, heartfelt.

“Not at all. You’re giving me practice!” She said, managing to only blush a little bit. Annamarie looked knowingly at her, and Alice was quick to make her escape. They were soon off to the Queen’s gardens, for both little girls were terribly fond of flowers. “Rosa, what is your favourite flower? And you, Belle?” They looked at each other and then said, in perfect accord,

“Tiger-lilies!” Alice laughed brightly.

“It suits the both of you! Bright and lovely. Now, let’s see if we can’t ask the flowers to let us take two tiger-lilies for the lovely girls.”

35) Majesty

Every day in the white palace was happy and bright, now that the Jabberwocky was defeated and the red Queen banished, Mirana could do what she did best: make people happy. She was not contrary, disliking the rules and requirements of being queen, nor was she vain, flaunting her power. She had been born a natural queen. She radiated peace and majesty.

Mirana could tell that if their places had been reversed, Alice would have made a rather good queen. Perhaps a bit odd, but Alice also carried with her an air of command and kindness.

“Yes,” Mirana said, looking out over the balcony at Alice playing with some children of the town. “She also has an air of majesty. Our dear Alice.”

36) Telescope

Mirana glided out onto the balcony. It was night and most of the court was asleep. She loved this time, a time all to herself with no one expecting her to say this or do that. Just by herself under the stars. There were some habits of being Queen that she couldn’t help doing, gliding for instance. It was sort of required, a sort of thing that came with the job.

“Oh! Majesty! I didn’t expect you to be here.” Alice walked towards her from the opposite end of the balcony. “Ah, Alice” Mirana exclaimed. She had not expected anyone to be here, but ever since Alice had come, many unexpected things had happened.

“Am I intruding?” She asked politely. Queens must always be polite.

“No, of course not. But, what brings you here at this time, Majesty?” Alice moved closer and smiled with a puzzled look. Mirana paused, wondering if she should tell her champion about her feelings.

“Alice, dear, can you keep a secret?” She said, already knowing the answer. Alice nodded. Mirana took a deep breath. “The truth is that sometimes I grow tired of being Queen.” She moved towards the railing. “Almost every night I come here to have a few hours of peace. Where no one is watching, and no one is expecting anything of me.” She looked at Alice, who was gazing out over the balcony.

“I understand. All my life before I came here, I was expected to do so many things, and I just got tired of it.” Alice smiled at Mirana. “Oh look! A shooting star!” They both turned their heads to watch as a bright streak of light shot across the black velvet sky. Mirana turned the telescope that was mounted on the railing up towards the sky. She focused the lens on a particularly bright patch of stars.

“Alice, come look through here.” Mirana said, moving to the side. Alice looked.

“The sky is so beautiful tonight.” Alice said. Mirana nodded, the sky was exceptionally beautiful.

37) Curiouser

“Curiouser and curiouser.” Mallymkun mocked good-naturedly. Alice gave the dormouse an exasperated glance. “The first go-round you were telling us we couldn’t make up words, yet isn’t ‘curiouser’ a made-up word?” Alice chuckled.

“I suppose it is.” She admitted. “In any case, I have now seen the error of my ways, and believe in excessive portmanteau, like the rest of you.” She ducked a flying teacup.

“Teacup!” Thackery shouted. She laughed.

“Indeed! I noticed!” She called back. Thackery dissolved into mad giggles. Mally raised an eyebrow, but soon joined in the merriment.

38) Creature

Alice sat at the tea table with Tarrant, Thackery, Mallymkun, and Nivens who was taking a day off from being late. Or at least he was trying; he had been late for tea and had missed the first batch of scones. They were all discussing the latest news form the white palace. Alice had dropped out of the discussion and began thinking of the time before she had come to Underland, not the dreams she had as a child; but when she really came, when she realized that they were more than dreams. She used to think it impossible than creatures could talk, wear waistcoats and pocket watches, and be so utterly human. What did that mean now? Human. After all, she now resided in a world where such things were commonplace. How was it possible that she once believed all creatures to be just animals? What a silly girl she had been.

“Oi! Alice!” Mally’s voice broke her reverie.

“Ah, yes, I must have dozed off a bit.” Alice said as she deftly caught a flying scone, thrown by Thackery. She took a bite out of the scone and a sip of her, now quite cold, tea.

Yes, she thought and smiled, what a silly girl I was.

39) Timid

The hand of tyranny was very large – so was the head. Large, frightening, and easily angered. Nivens felt a touch of shame. He was a rabbit, but he felt that shouldn’t give him an excuse for being unable to stand against the Red Queen. But his timid nature always overcame any thoughts of valour and action against his former ruler. He was as happy as the next person to be rid of her, but he sometimes felt disappointed with himself for not standing alongside the fighting force of Mirana. Not that he fought for Iracebeth, he would rather die first. But he wished he had the courage to have picked up a weapon and fought for the freedom in which he now lived.

40) Tremble

He sat a the tea table lost in thought. Alice was here, and she was here to stay. His hand moved absentmindedly into his coat pocket. He pulled it out, his fist clutched around a small, precious object. Tarrant was trembling with excitement and anxiety. Even if you’re half-mad, you can still be serious. Tarrant was feeling serious. He had made up his mind, taken action, and now the results of all his seriousness lay in his hand. He opened his fingers and looked at the delicate white-gold ring.

41) Stockings

“I refuse to wear stockings.” Her own voice echoed in her mind. She smiled. No-one here made her wear those awful, uncomfortable things. In fact, Tarrant was surprised that anyone in the Overworld was forced to wear any particular article of clothing. So was Mirana, although she said that, as Queen, she was supposed to live up to certain expectations. Corsets and stockings didn’t figure into the equation, though.

Although Tarrant was rather charmed by her comparison of wearing a corset to wearing a codfish on one’s head. He almost went straight to his workshop to make a codfish-hat, but Alice managed to dissuade him.

42) Picture

When she was very young, her father would give her books full of pretty pictures to look at. Her favourite books were ones full of fanciful things, like magic and sword-fighting, knights and dragons and maidens in need of rescue. She’d always complained about their seeming helplessness.

“If I was a maiden locked up in a tower, I’d rescue myself!” She’d often exclaimed to the great amusement of her father.

She was sorting through her possessions, choosing the things she wanted to take with her to Underland. As she carefully turned the pages of a book, her thoughts drifted back to when she first had the dreams. They seemed like dreams at the time, but now that they were real people in a real place Alice found these memories to be quite humorous.

Her father had always halfway believed her about ‘Wonderland’, she could tell. He’d loved the wild tales she’d told him, so much so that he’d asked an imaginative young novelist named Lewis Carroll to listen to and adapt her stories into books. The artist he’d commissioned had also been imaginative, though his pictures, for the most part, looked nothing like her friends. She smiled and packed her copy. Maybe they’d like to see it.

43) Looking-glass

She was finally done. She’d been away for four years, establishing the company – completing her father’s company. She’d settled her affairs, quietly distributing her money and share in the company half to Mother and half to Maggie – not Lowell, he wouldn’t be able to touch it, dog that he was. She’d made sure of that. Lord Ascot was aware that she was going, only knew the story she’d told him about meeting a man in trade who lived someplace else, and that they were planning on eloping – Mother wouldn’t approve, you see.

She stood in her bedroom, seated on her steamer-trunk, which held all her worldly possessions (that she wished to bring, anyway) and called for Absolem. He came fluttering through her window to land delicately on her finger.

“I’m ready to go back, Absolem.” She said. She couldn’t quite tell, but she thought he smiled briefly.

“About time, girl. Everyone is waiting.” She nodded. “All right. Get a good grip on that trunk and step through the looking-glass.” He said, fluttering to the full-length glass set against the wall, and then through it. She smiled and, dragging the trunk through the glass to start the rest of her life.

44) Puzzled

Shock and disbelief had left Iracebeth long behind, it only took a week, but in the bareness of the Outlands, any time is a long time. She couldn’t quite understand how Illosovic could not love her.  He had fawned over her before, and truth be told, she had realized a rather twisted affection for him, an affection that she loathed to acknowledge. It was quite puzzling to her how she could be loved by this man, currently snoring against a small clump of what ought to be grass, how she could even love, no, care for, no, feel for him.

Love is so painfully tricky. She couldn’t win the love of her former subjects, and thus resorted to terror. She was tricked into thinking that the courtiers and nobles loved her, then they turned on her, or fled in terror of her wrath when she learned they were all lies. Someone had once said that it was lonely at the top. (Better to be feared than loved?) Now she could succinctly say it was also lonely at the bottom. How puzzling.

45) Poetry

There was poetry in her motion, Alice decided, gazing upon her Queen as she tried on one of Tarrant’s hats. It was a beautiful confection of silver lace and black netting that set off her colour scheme very well. There was an odd sort of twitchy poetry to the way Tarrant moved as well, but the Queen was infinitely more graceful than he, no matter how much she loved her fiancé. They had been working on the designs for her wedding dress When the Queen had come in for her fitting, and she’d managed to insert her own opinions, which were very appreciated.

She wondered idly if she looked half as graceful as her unofficially-adopted sister did.

46) Sundial

There was a sundial in the White Queen’s gardens. She’d managed to convince Nivens to teach her how to read it. It was a charming thing, but she could see why it had been outmoded as a way to tell time. Not that she really needed to tell time much, and a simple glance to the sky often told her exactly what she needed to know. Sometimes she did need to tell the time, however, and she was still terribly glad that pocket-watches had been invented.

A pocket-sundial would but just too unwieldy, not to mention difficult to set.

47) Sleeping

Tarrant looked remarkably peaceful asleep, Alice mused. One couldn’t see the eyes that betrayed the mercurial temperament (her favourite feature of his), and his face was smoothed-out and almost childlike in sleepy innocence. His hands, usually so busy with his trade, or (in conversation) gesticulating to better emphasize his point, were folded gently over his waistcoat.

They had gone for a picnic, just her and her new fiancé, and he’d fallen asleep with his head in her lap. She gently stroked his wild shock of unruly orange curls before pulling a book out of the bottom of the basket. He’d been working so hard for the preparations for the wedding she wasn’t in the least bit surprised he’d succumbed to sleep. She was feeling a bit lethargic herself. Perhaps one chapter, and join dear Tarrant in the arms of Morpheus, then.

48) Marmalade

Redcurrant jam, strawberry preserves, blackberry jelly, so many wonderfully sticky, sweet possibilities for the next teatime. Thackery rummaged through the pantry of one of the royal kitchens in the White Palace, alternately throwing and breaking the results of his search.

For Thackery, all time was teatime. Any intermission was just an excuse to brew more tea, find more scones and toast, and commandeer another tea set, all nice and ready for throwing. Despite being mad, the hare did have his own set of rules for taking tea.

For instance, muffins weren’t scones, and thus, could be thrown at the Queen. Also, if you are going to throw toast at someone, make sure the toast has been buttered and jammed. Or if not jammed, then generously coated with another jam-like substance. And finally, never throw marmalade. Marmalade was the ultimate spread to Thackery. It was too nice to be given away so hastily to just anyone. If he could, Thackery would have gotten all the marmalade in Underland and eaten it. How he loved marmalade!

He had gotten to the very end of the pantry and glanced at his mismatched pile of tea implements. His eyes grew wide, his hands began to shake (well, more than usual), and he took a second look at the bare shelves that he had just emptied. There was no marmalade!

49) Waistcoat

She liked waistcoats. She’d always wanted to wear one but, her mother being the way she was, never had the chance. Now, though, she could steal her new husband’s. The first time she had waltzed out of their bedroom into the breakfast-room wearing his trousers and his favourite waistcoat and nothing else, he’d dropped the crumpet he’d been about to butter, and she’d pulled him back into the bedroom.

The crumpets were still very good cold.

50) Hearts

The wedding was, most succinctly an Affair. It was the first wedding that had happened since the White Queen had been reinstated to her rightful position. Everyone was excited. Tarrant had crafted Alice’s dress and veil himself, from designs that both of them had worked on. It was a thing of elegant, simple beauty, an empire silhouette with a broad band of delicate periwinkle lace just under the bust and the full white layered chiffon skirt flowed from it to drape slightly on the floor. The sleeves were wide bells, edged with the same periwinkle lace, scalloped along the edges. Her neckline was square, also trimmed with a thin inset of lace. Her veil was white sheer fabric that faded into periwinkle blue, a terribly clever bit of dyeing on the Royal Dressmaker’s part, and held in place by a crown of pale blue silk flowers.

She walked down the isle with grace befitting a Queen, (who was presiding the affair) on the arm of the Cheshire Cat, who was looking his best, coat brushed to perfection, cradling a bouquet of Queen-Anne’s-Lace and bluebells. Mallymkun was the maid of honour, Thackery the best man, and the Tweedles were the ring-bearers. Two little twin girls, Rosalinda and Mirabelle, from the village, who Alice was often seen playing with, were the flower girls, and had a wonderful time skipping down the isle throwing flowers like confetti. Then she was standing up in the front next to Tarrant, who looked very fine in a new black jacket, with a clean white shirt, a royal blue cravat and his best kilt. He’d actually gone to the effort to discover matching royal blue socks as well, she noted delightedly. Mirana drifted gently forward to start the service.

“My dear friends, we are gathered her today to unite these two hearts as one…”