WonderLand

It was quite a scene in the Queen's Throne Room.

A silver plate of tarts went whizzing through the air, forcing three guards to duck as it hurtled over their heads, and covering the rest in the sticky pastries that flew in every direction.

The Queen screamed, a high, shrill banshee shriek that reverberated off the gilded walls and nearly deafened everyone in the room. She grabbed her scepter next and hurled that as far as she could managed as well, unleashing another unhappy wail as it fell harmlessly several feet shy of its intended mark; the Carpenter's brick-like head.

“You horrid little insects!” She screeched, hopping around her ruby encrusted throne in an apoplectic rage. “I sent you worms to do one thing! One tiny little thing! I just wanted the girl, how hard was it to just get the girl? She's just one little girl! One little girl, one little bag of flesh, blood, bones, and naivety! And you failed!”

“Please, Your Highness, she was... more clever than we expected. Let us have another chance!” The Walrus blubbered, his head bobbing wearily as he waited for another projectile to come soaring his way.

“Let you have another chance?” The Queen hissed, immediately halting her furious dance, and her voice becoming a deadly hiss as she turned to glare icily at the two massive men kneeling at her feet. “You want another chance? Do I look that stupid to you?” With three lightning quick steps, she closed the distance between herself and the Walrus and knelt down, grabbing his many-rolled chin in her dainty hand, forcing his to look her in the eyes. “Tell me, Mr. Walrus,” She went on, in a saccharine tone, her dark lips pursed, “If you hired the best bounty hunters in the business to take care of one measly, easy task, and they showed back up at your door empty handed except for a big, fat sorry and asking for 'another chance', would you send them back out to finish their botched job, now that that brat of a girl already knows what is coming for her and how to escape it, or would you just say, off with their heads, and call it a day?”

The Walrus swallowed hard, his throat squeezed so tight by the poisonously beautiful Queen that her red nails drew blood.

“Um... The first?” He replied in a quavering voice.

The Queen snorted and shoved him backwards, sending the surprised fat man tumbling down the throne steps.

“That was a rhetorical question, you idiot.” She whirled around, and glared at the man half hiding behind the throne. “Rabbit, get out here.” She snapped. The White Rabbit edged slowly into view, not entirely positive the hysterics were quite over.

“Yes, your majesty?” He asked uncertainly.

“I'm choosing to go with neither of those options. I want Mr. Walrus and Mr. Carpenter to see how the job should have been done, and unfortunately, that requires them being alive. Now that both the Cat has failed to return and this oyster loving pair have failed me, it is clear that this Alice girl isn't someone to be trifled with. I do believe it is time to stop holding back, my loyal companion.” The Queen's eyes narrowed, and her red fingernail traced the edge of her lips, which began to curl into a smile. “I haven't seen the Jabberwocky in a dreadful long time. I do think it is time my old friend and I had a little chat. It has been a while since he has had something to do, he must be terribly bored.”

The White Rabbit swallowed, and tried not to let the chill that ran down his spine show.

“You... you wish me to fetch the... the Jabberwocky, Your Highness?”

The Queen tilted her head to the side coquettishly. “If you would please. This has been a fun game of Cat and Mouse, but I'm tired of it now. Bring him in.”

♥ ♥ ♥

We ran through the forest. The Cat was holding me by my hand, and every time I stumbled, or began to slow down, and Cat would tighten his grip and pull me on, urging me to go just a little farther, just a little faster.

I was exhausted and aching and hungry and thirsty, but I grit my teeth and kept moving, until I couldn't manage another step. After that, the Cat carried me on his back despite my protests, insisting e had to keep moving, always saying just a little farther, just a little farther. It wasn't until I started vomiting that he paused, and allowed us to rest.

I was on my hands and knees, heaving the meager contents of my stomach onto the forest floor, the Cat crouched by my side, his hand resting uncertainly on the back on my neck, keeping my hair out of my face. I wretched until there was nothing more to spill, and continued wretching after that anyways.

“It's WonderLand,” The Cat said flatly. “I guess the biscuit you ate wasn't a strong enough tether. You're being rejected again. You're disrupting the order of things.”

“I'll disrupt you...” I groaned, in between dry heaves. “Oh God, I need something to eat...”

“It's too dangerous. Who knows what would happen if you consumed anymore WonderLand food.” The Cat argued.

“I don't care!” I shot back, feeling absolutely miserable. “Things can't exactly get much worse! I don't think I've eaten in days. I'm going to starve to death, Cat, even if the Queen doesn't get me.”

The Cat groaned. Reluctantly, but evidently seeing my point and unable to think of any alternatives, he rose to his feet and walked over to a small rucksack laying on the ground.

“Hey... is that... is that my bag?” I asked, still feeling more than a little hazy.

“Yes.” The Cat replied. “You left it behind when I came across you your friends, Gryphon and the Knight. I brought it with me in case I ever had the chance to give it back to you.”

“How considerate of you,” I groaned sarcastically, clutching my stomach. “But there's nothing to eat in there. Not anymore, anyways.”

“I'm the Cheshire Cat, Alex. That isn't how things work for me.” The Cat said. He brought the bag over and kneeled beside me again, reaching into my little rucksack. Much to my astonishment, he began pulling out a veritable tea party from the depths on my threadbare bag that most certainly hadn't been in there when I left the Hatter and Hare's. Before I had time to decide whether I should bother being surprised or not, the Cat had laid out a steaming tea pot and creamer, a plate of warm, buttery looking scones, the most moist and fluffy muffins I had ever seen in my life, and a little glass bowl of after dinner mints.

I barely gave my last dry heave a chance to leave my throat before I began shoving food down my gullet as fast as I could manage—which wasn't very fast, mind you. Before I could cram a third scone into my cheeks with the as of yet unchewed first two however, the Cat grabbed my hands and stopped my ravaging attack.

“Woah, slow down there, chickpea! Swallowing might actually be beneficial, and don't go so fast or you'll just make yourself sicker!”

I mumbled an expletive through a mouthfuls of crumbs, but dutifully slowed my pace. The Cat wouldn't let me eat everything either; he took the scones and muffins away after that and made me nurse a steaming cup of tea, telling me I'd regret eating too much too fast.

After about half an hour of sitting there on the forest floor in silence, I began to feel considerably better. The pounding headache in my skull had dulled to a soft throbbing, and the nausea had all but disappeared. Finally able to think straight, I leaned back and looked up at the Cat's shadowed face, my lips pursed and ready to extort some answers.

The Cat wasn't looking at me, in fact, he seemed to be doing his best to subtly avoid my gaze. He was crouched beside me, his unruly hair an absolute mess. He looked odd without his hat. I almost told him it was still in my bag, and that he could have it back, but I changed my mind. He had to earn it back, and I wanted an explanation first.

“What the hell is going on with you, Cat?” I asked, the weariness heavy in my voice. “What's with all the double agent stuff? I don't even know whose side you're on anymore. I don't even know if I'm supposed to be mad at you or not!”

The Cat sighed, and passed his hand in front of his face.

“I suppose I'd better start from the beginning.”

“I supposed you'd better.” I replied, coldly.

Instead of speaking, however, he stood up and walked over to the trunk of one of the massive trees, and began kicking around at the dirt and thick, spongy moss at its roots.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Making a comfortable spot. It's a long story, and it's been a long day. Here is as good a place as any to rest for the night.” He walked back over to me and reached out, his hand open and waiting. After a moment's hesitation, I took it, and he pulled to to my feet. We walked to the tree and the Cat sat down, his back against the trunk, and he pulled me down with him, right into his lap. I tried to protest, but he told me to shut up, and that it was safer that way.

“You need my protection, especially now.” He frowned. I gave in, too worn out to argue, and reluctantly leaned against his chest. It was rather more comfortable than sleeping in the dirt.

“You know about the great war between the Rightful Queens of the WonderLand and the Queen of Hearts, who at the time was only a Duchess, I presume?” He asked after we had been settled.

“Yeah, Hatter and Hare told me the story.” I replied.

“And I presume you also know about my part in that war as well.”

“They mentioned... a bit.” I said, carefully, the tone of his voice warning me to tread carefully.

“I loved the Red and White Queen.” The Cat went on, his tone curiously flat. “I really did. I fought for them, as you know. But they died. They died, and we lost the war. And being on the loosing side is a dangerous thing, Alex. I could die, along with my few remaining companions, or I could learn to play both sides of the field. So I began to manipulate. I charmed my way into the Queen of Hearts's court, and snaked my way back into the Rebellion's good books. Again and again and again. After a while, It became hard to remember whose side I really stood on. More time passed, and I found I didn't associate myself with either, though I continued to make myself... useful to both. Being close to the Queen meant protection. She doesn't trust me, I suspects she hates me in fact, but I'm useful to her, so she lets me live. Fighting for the Rebellion means I still get to keep that tiny part of my heart alive, that part that wants revenge for the horrors that woman unleashed upon the people I loved. The Rebellion knows I'm just as disloyal to them as I am to the Queen, of course. I suspect no one there is terribly fond of me either.

I haven't had any real friends in many, many years. It's hard to build bonds when you're always looking out for your own skin. Whose side I'm on at any given moment depends what leaves me the best off. I'm a coward, Alex. I don't want to risk my own neck if I don't have to, and I don't want to commit unless I know who's going to win. I did that once, and it nearly got me killed. I'm afraid to die, Alex. We lost too many on that bloody field, and I'm afraid to follow them. I'm afraid to face my Queens.”

The Cat trailed off, letting silence fill the cold night air. I said nothing. There was nothing to say.

"Alex, I admit, I was going to take you to the Queen of Hearts," The Cat said, speaking more quickly now, "it was my job; it was what was most... convenient for me at the time." He grimaced, but continued. "I wasn't expecting to feel so much guilt though. I didn't know exactly what she planned on doing with you. When I told you that day that I thought she was most likely going to release you through the Looking Glass, I wasn't exactly lying. I may be a coward, but I don't lie. Though I wasn't exactly telling the truth either. I didn't know what she planned on doing. I believed, I really believed, that there was a chance she would simply let you go.

But the Queen... That's why I couldn't promise you wouldn't be hurt. And that's when my conviction started to waver. I was rather fond of you, Alex. You didn't.... you trusted me. You even seemed to be rather fond of me in turn. It was nice. It's been a long time.” He fell quiet again, and it was a long time before he spoke next.

“I came for you in the forest. I was following you for a long time. Your so called body guards were pathetically easy to track, but for a while there, in the beginning, I hadn't made up my mind what to do with you once I found you. I didn't really want to take you back to the Queen. I was half hoping you would make it to the Chess Board before I made up my mind, but no. Of course not. I took care of your friend the Knight, and I made sure to take a while, but again you still couldn't get away. It was too easy, I couldn't even lie to myself and say I lost you in the scuffle. So I had to do something. I don't know what I was planning on doing after I got Gryphon out of the way. I still don't know if I would have taken you to the Queen or not. You hated me. You hated me so much... I remember the way you called my a traitor. I was, of course I was, I've been called a traitor a million times, but for some reason... hearing you say it, with such hate in your voice, made me hate you. I hated you, because you didn't like me anymore, and I couldn't stand it. So I left you when I heard the others coming. I wasn't thinking straight. For a moment... for a moment I thought you'd deserve it if they took you back to the Queen. You'd deserve it for hating me when I was only doing my job.” The Cat stopped again, as if he had been cut short. I looked up at his face and saw it was twisted with self disgust.

“I don't know what I was thinking. It was insane. It was wrong, and wasn't fair. I had no idea she had sent the Walrus and the Carpenter to fetch you. If I'd have known it was them, I'd never have left. I'd have taken you to the Chess Board myself then and there. But you got away, and I found you again. I don't know how I did, it was a hunch. I'm sorry about the flowers, by the way. They get a little over excited sometimes.”

“Don't mention it.” I mumbled.

“And by then I'd had time to calm down, and think. I think... I think it is difficult for me to think clearly when you are near me. It might be because you're not from here; you disrupt WonderLand, and I'm about as close to being an actual part of WonderLand itself as any living thing. That's just a guess, of course. Either way, I had time to think, and sort things out.”

“So whose side are you on now?” I asked, my voice still cold, despite the volcano of feelings raging inside my chest.

“Hatter and Hares. My own. Yours. I don't know. I just feel like I owe you after... after everything I did. You're a nice girl, you don't deserve everything that has happened to you. I feel morally obligated to help you. Especially now.”

That sounded ominous.

“What? What does that mean?” I asked, suspicion rising in my voice.

“What does what mean?”

“'Especially now,' especially now what?”

“What? Oh, nothing.” The Cat replied quickly, all innocence.

“Don't lie to me!” I snapped, squirming in his grasp, trying to pull away.

“Wait! Just... Okay.” The Cat said helplessly. I stopped struggling and glared up at him. He took a deep breath. “I might as well tell you. It would be safer if you knew anyways. Now that the Walrus and Carpenter have failed, the Queen isn't going to risk losing you again. My bet is that she's sent the Jabberwocky out after you. After me too, probably. And the Jabberwocky... Well, you've already heard of him. He's not someone you want to ever have to meet.”

I snorted, either too used to living in WonderLand or simply too crazy to be much fazed by the death threat on my head. “I'm sure I'll be fine if I'm with you. You are the Cheshire Cat, after all,” I said, only half sarcastically. But the Cat didn't smile. Instead, he sat up straight and leaned away from me, his expression dead serious.

“Let me show you something, Alex.” He said, his voice very quiet. He took off his jacket and slowly, he began unbuttoning his shirt, letting it fall open, exposing his chest. Stretched diagonally across his torso, from his right shoulder and ending just above the left side of his hip, was a long, pale, puckered scar. It looked old, a hundred years old, and I could tell it was a mark he could carry forever.

“See this?” He asked, pointing to the scar.

“Yes,” I replied quietly, tearing my gaze away form the disfigurment and meeting his cold, glass green eyes.

“I got this from the Jabberwocky.” The Cat began, his tone carefully bland, controlled. “During the Takeover. The Red and White Queens had already fallen, but the rest of WonderLand—those that hadn't joined the Queen of Hearts—still fought on, with the Lion and the Unicorn at the head of our army. We were determined to die, rather than see WonderLand fall.” The Cat's gaze was drawn downwards, and he ran a hand over his mutilated chest. “Most of us did die that day.” He looked back up at me, his eyes flashing. “I was fighting for the Red and White Queens during the war. I was not part of their army, but this went beyond politics. It involved every soul in WonderLand; and every soul fought, for one side or the other.” He closed his eyes, off in a long forgotten place. “I don't know how long we fought for. At first, neither side could gain the upper hand. But then the Unicorn was slain, and the Lion fell soon after. Without anyone to lead us in battle, our forces soon crumpled like a bent card beneath the Army of Hearts. Our numbers were decimated.

Day turned into night, and night into day, and agina and again until I couldn't tell the difference anymore. By the end, there were only a handful of us left. We were exhausted from countless days of fighting—tired and hungry and covered in the blood of our fallen companions and enemies alike. But still, we would not surrender. We would prevail, or we would be cut down. There were no other options.

The Cat paused for a moment, his eyes shut tight. After a long silent moment, he continued, as stoic as ever.

“The Jabberwocky lead the Queen of Hearts's army. He was at the head of the next charge. We met them, for what we knew would be our final clash. Almost immediately, I found myself staring down the Jabberwocky's sword. To this day, I swear he sought me out specifically. We never got along, even before the Takeover,” the Cat remarked, in an almost offhand way.

“He wanted to be the one to run his sword through me. He still does, as a matter of fact.” The Cat smiled wryly. “But that's beside the point. I'm not a humble man,Alex. I may be a coward, but I'm a damn good fighter. I have to be, in my position. But within five seconds, the Jabberwocky had me on the ground, his sword at my throat. He could have killed me then and there. But he is a cruel man. He gave me this scar first, before he struck his final blow. 'Let's see the famous heart of the Cheshire Cat', he said, as he carved over my chest. I still remember that, all these years later.” The Cat's eyes fluttered closed again, but he continued his story with impassive determination.

“I don't know how I got away. I was lucky, I guess. He bent down to me, grabbed me by my neck. I was seized by a moment of blind panic—my fear of death overcame my pain and exhaustion. I lashed out, hit him in the face.” He grinned thinly. “I broke his nose. It's still crooked, to this day. Somehow I managed to crawl away while the Jabberwocky was trying to keep his face intact.”

The Cat sighed, suddenly sounding tired, tired beyond his years. “Long story short, we lost the war. The Queen of Hearts took over, the remaining court loyal to the Red and White Queens who were still alive formed the Rebellion. In an effort to save my own pathetic skin, I started playing both sides of the court. The Queen's protection keeps me safe from the Jabberwocky. He doesn't dare touch me, not while I'm her precious little spy, no matter how much he wants to. And I can safely mock him from a distance.” The Cat gazed down at his rent torso, and his hands clenched into white knuckled fists. “Everyday since then, every single day, I have sworn I would pay him back for that. For ages I've been waiting, for longer than I care to remember.” His eyes flicked upwards, and locked with mine. “So you see, my dear, the Jabberwocky, is not someone you ever want to meet.”