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manniness“Have we forgotten anything?” Fenruffle demands of the harried frogs and fish.
“I certainly hope so,” Alice grumbles, eyeing the pile of luggage and pitying the low-ranking pawns-turned-pack mules.
At her side, Mirana just smiles serenely. “There’s no use in protesting. Just let Fenruffle prepare whatever he thinks will be necessary. Otherwise he’ll give himself a stress-injury.”
Alice sighs. She knows it’s the gryphon’s job to ensure that the queen’s household – no matter where that might be – runs smoothly, guaranteeing her comfort. Mirana’s safety, however, is a responsibility that falls to the Queen’s Champion and, as such, where the White Queen goes, so does Alice.
She resists scanning the drive for her Hatter. They’ve already said their good-byes (and rather spectacularly, too!) and she won’t be gone long. Only sixteen days.
SIXTEEN DAYS!
Alice winces at the internal scream of desperation. Since her return to Underland, she’s hasn’t once been away from him for so long.
This is going to be very... trying.
Despite the month of bliss that had followed the finalization of the Thrice a-Vow, Alice can’t help but wish for more time. Just one more lazy, warm afternoon... Just one more moonlit night... Just one more rosy-hued morning...
Alice has to admit: it’s just as well she and Tarrant aren’t of the same species or she might have to have a bit of... small talk with him. Or possibly nominate someone else to protect the queen in her stead for the next year or so... But they’d stayed away from bringing any other rites into the bedroom, so...
Nothing to worry about, Alice tells herself.
Nothing... except sixteen days without his touch, his infectious giggle, his ever-changing eyes: teasing emerald, affectionate blue, impassioned violet.
She shivers despite the warm morning.
Right – stop this, Alice! You are working!
After another furious roll call of the prepared and packed supplies, the pawns move forward, gathering the trunks and cases. In that moment of activity – as the queen moves toward her mount – Alice glimpses a flash of dark color. She doesn’t tense when a hand grasps her arm and pulls her behind the cherry tree she’d been standing beneath.
She doesn’t reach for her knife as she stumbles against a warm body. Tarrant leans back against the tree, pulls her against him, and kisses her. Alice lets herself forget about the preparations on the castle drive, the time, the travel itinerary...
His arms are almost bruisingly tight around her. Her hands clutch his vibrant hair with abandon. Their mouths seek, devour...
Let this moment never end... Let Time and the queen and Underland leave us here...
Bit by bit, the kiss gentles to soft touches and sighs. Tarrant’s arms loosen as do her fingers. When his hands are resting on her hips and hers on his shoulders, Tarrant leans his forehead against hers and smiles.
“Ye f’rgot yer Pain Paste,” he whispers.
“And what did you forget?” she asks knowingly.
He giggles. And then: “Alice,” he sighs contentedly, “Why is a raven like a writing desk?”
Alice closes her eyes and inhales the scents clinging to his jacket. She whispers, “I don’t know, Hatter. Why is a raven like a writing desk?”
His voice is husky and low, his breath a caress against her ear. “I haven’t the slightest idea...”
Alice’s entire being suffuses with warmth. Tarrant’s warmth, his concern, his love. As declarations of love go, perhaps it’s unconventional, but then, so are they. Unconventional, but in complete accord.
Leaning away, she grasps his left hand with hers and raises them up so she can see his dark red heart line twisting, twining over his pale skin, so he can see her equally dark blue one.
“Be back before you know it,” she tells him.
His eyes, awash with so many colors she can barely discern them all, focus on hers and he waits.
Relenting, Alice gives him what he seeks, what he needs: “I promise.”
A long breath escapes him. His eyes nearly close and his lips find hers again. This kiss is their farewell, sweet and sad and so sensual she would give anything for one more afternoon, evening, morning spent in bed together...
And then he gently straightens both of them away from the tree and, retrieving something from his jacket pocket, offers it to her on the palm of his hand. Alice chuckles and reaches for the container of healing ointment.
“When ye ge’back, I’ll be checkin’ teh be sure ‘twasn’ needful,” he warns her.
“Then I’d better not get in any fights.”
Tarrant smiles and gently combs his bruised, bandaged, be-thimbled fingers through her once-again-shorter hair.
Letting go of his hand – separating their heart lines – and walking away from him seems like the hardest thing she’s ever done. She can remember doing nothing so utterly contrary to her nature. But she does it: she lets him go; she returns to the procession waiting in drive; she mounts the Bandersnatch.
“Shall we be off?” Mirana asks cheerfully.
“Yes, let’s,” Alice replies, tucking the jar into her bag.
It’s only sixteen days, she thinks.
“Be back before you know it!”
And because she has to believe in that promise, Alice doesn’t look back... even though she knows he’s standing beneath the boughs of the cherry tree, watching, once again waiting for the moment when his Alice will arrive.
*~*~*~* The End *~*~*~*
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Date: 2010-06-01 03:49 am (UTC)'Scuse me. My brain just kind of imploded from your Awesome.
I don't even know where to begin on this, 'cause I know once I start - and without even trying - I could easily go on for an extremely long period of time on how much I loved this and nit-pick it to death (in a good way!) with various scenes/characters/writing shticks/etc.
And speaking of writing shticks, while it's right there in the front of my mind: present tense. Through the entirety. Used PROPERLY, with correct usage of past tense where necessary. Someday, I'm gonna be sitting at my desk going over some fourteen-year-old's writing assignment, and I'm going to want to kill someone (quite possibly the student) for the tense butchery, and then I'm gonna think of this fic. And it's all gonna be ok again, because here's hope. Few and far between and glittering with all the pretty of something so incredibly rare and wondrous, but hope all the same that people CAN use present tense properly. You are amazing for that, and that alone is enough to make me love this fic.
But the rest can't be ignored, 'cause oh my word. Your control of the characters is stunning - and Jabber? Shpadoinkle. I love that twist more than is healthy, I must admit. I loved Alice's reaction to 'murdering' Stayne, as well; that, despite knowing who/what he is, she still had a problem killing him. She still hesitated, and that fact tore her up afterwords (and good Lord, Tarrant's whole "Why won't she let me fix her?" bit? Broke my heart). Also: you're whole idea on that riddle being their way of saying 'I love you'? I loved that; so incredibly quirky and them, and utterly adorkable.
Also, on another writing shtick: iambic pentameter. I can't even begin on how much I loved your constant use/referencing of that; my Brit Lit teacher (the class I was first properly introduced to iambic pentameter/poetry styles in) was horrible at explaining it, so my entire class had trouble grasping the subject. It's kind of become an inside joke because of the hell that was Romantic poetry, so I laugh every time I'm faced with it. (The lit prof/geek in me loves it, though - I just get an extra giggle 'cause of the memories. xD)
And I gotta say: in that guddlerish way a lot of ficcers have, I might be sneaking some ideas from you. (Like 'Upland'; I've seen it called a lot of things in fandom (especially since we're never given a definite name in the film/script), from Aboveland to Otherworld and such. I was thinking 'Upperland', and then I read this and am thinking 'Upland' is perfect (I was thinking 'Upper' because it rhymes a bit with 'Under', but just going from the words 'Up' by itself is perfect). So I hope you don't mind that that's locked as fanon for me now. C: )
I'm agreeing with Amaranth 100% here: definitely one of the best fics in this fandom. I'm definitely memming it, and I saw on the masterlist there's to be a book two? Definitely keeping an eye out for it.
You, m'dear, have blown me away. You are definitely one hell of a storyteller.
~ Ver
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Date: 2010-06-01 08:17 am (UTC)As for present tense, I've been writing in present tense (with past perfect referring to earlier memories/events) since I was 21... so, even at that ripe old age, it can be learned and mastered, so don't give up on those teenagers, no matter what! (I actually came upon the idea to write in present tense because that's how I wrote notes in my dream journal, and when one of my original novels - a historical suspense - wasn't turning out the way I wanted, I decided to switch the tense and voila! Although, after the fact, several people told me it was impossible, so I'm glad I tried it before I mentioned it to them, because I LOVE present tense!)
I can't lay claim to "Upland" because I'm sure I read it somewhere before I started using it, but, by all means - spread the love!
And you have no idea how utterly RELIEVED I am that I used iambic pentameter correctly! I majored in philosophy, not literature, and I was just going from a quick and dirty explanation on Wikipedia about it! LOL!
And thank you for letting me know what aspects of the story - plot devices and conversation - you liked! I'm so thrilled you liked the riddle-as-I-love-you... I kinda thought that's what it ended up as by the end of the movie (or maybe that's just wishful thinking on my part?) and decided to make it more concrete in the fanfic.
And, yes, I'm working on a sequel. I've been tearing apart Chapter 9 for the last two days as it refuses to cooperate with me, but I know exactly where I'm going with this, and I can't wait to see if I end up surprising myself despite that - so, no worries, I'll finish it!
Thank you AGAIN for reading and reviewing above-and-beyond-the-call-of-duty! I'm sure I'll be looking back over you comments frequently to reassure myself that I CAN write what I want and have it turn out better than "just all right"!