TITLE: Swirled
AUTHOR: Ashe;
promisethesun FANDOM(S): The Looking Glass Wars
CHARACTER(S): Alyss Heart and Dodge
PROMPT: #029 Color
RECIPIENT: Hannah;
feilyn RATING: PG
WARNINGS: I used the word 'orgy' to describe colors mixing?
SPOILERS?: Naw
PREVIEW/SUMMARY:
“Forgive my intrusion. Should I return when you're acting more mature?” One eyebrow rises in a quiet challenge, and her smile falls for a brief second, the colors dulling with his words, her feelings. He's different, and she had thought she came to terms that is not her Dodge from long ago. War has left its harsh mark on him, and she knows this. She does.
WORD COUNT: 936
She weaves the patterns with ease, threading them together with the easy skill of a young woman who is used to this sort of task: of course, growing up in England and given a proper lady's education is the reason why. Also, of course, those girl were forced to work with their fingers, a silver needle grasped between peach fingers, thread of all colors dangling from the end, poised high until they dive down to mar the perfection of the white canvas on their laps.
Alyss has always, and will forever, hate that meaningless sewing, the boring nature of it all.
Instead, she doesn't use her hands to weave the colors in the air, watching them dance and mate, blending in with one another until the blues and reds and the yellows were purples and oranges and greens, and then other colors. She smiles at them all, feeling that this is a fitting activity for a queen with power such as hers.
Dodge walks into the room amidst the orgy of the rainbow she's been creating, and the colors splash along his body, a silvery blue across his chest while the shadow of a dark pink lays like a stripe on his scarred cheek. He stares at her with a deadpan look, incredulous that this is what she decides to do with her time, and for a moment, she is almost ashamed of herself. She is no mere young girl, no seven year old princess with too much pride and power. She is the Queen of Wonderland, a warrior, their leader. But then the corners of her lip twitch and she is grinning at him with abandon and the delicate rise of her shoulders tells him that she does not care for whatever judgment he has to pass on her for the indulgence.
“Alyss.”
“Dodge,” she greets in a mocking tone, and he grunts, scowling.
“Forgive my intrusion. Should I return when you're acting more mature?” One eyebrow rises in a quiet challenge, and her smile falls for a brief second, the colors dulling with his words, her feelings. He's different, and she had thought she came to terms that is not her Dodge from long ago. War has left its harsh mark on him, and she knows this. She does.
But it's a constant struggle.
Still: “You are such a spoilsport, as always.” She forces the smile to come back to life, to look as natural as it should, instead of strained.
“You were much different when I first found you,” he says, taking a seat next to her.
The colors fall to the floor in a dramatic expression, splashing along the beautifully restored stone in a brilliant display.
“I didn't remember myself. I was Alice.”
They swirl into a mass of gray, tinges of black creeping up on the edges.
“You can't speak of yourself as if you are separate beings,” he tells her with harsh authority, and she sighs loudly, enough to let him know that she does not wish for a lecture.
Alyss stays silent for a moment until she finally turns her head to look at her friend, at her... Dodge stares back at her, and there it is, that frown she has come to become familiar with, one that she can trace and mimic with ease in her thoughts. But there is more, a glint to his eyes that tells her that she is being foolish and that he's worried. Their gazes remain on each other for longer than should have been, and her body leans in, as though she is following the line of sight. He looks away then, back straight and shoulders stiff as he glances at a wall that is definitely not Alyss. She remains, half bent, for a moment more before snapping back, pretending to not understand what just passed between them.
“We are, though,” she reminds him in a soft and quiet voice. There is a doppelganger of hers on Earth, Alice Liddel. They are no longer one and the same, even if Alyss had made her. “She is the daughter of a Reverend in Oxford, and I am the Queen of Wonderland. We are not the same, Dodge.”
The rainbow reemerges, the orgy continues with full vigor on the floor, swirling and dipping and diving as she manages to avoid looking at him and speaking to him, although she doesn't seem to be able to quite manage not thinking of him. As always.
“And besides,” she finally mutters to him in a louder, stronger voice. “What is wrong with the way I am now? Am I not allowed a bit of reprieve? I have defeated Redd, and she and the Cat”-she catches the way he flinches and tenses at the name of the assassin-“are gone from Wonderland. I have returned home, I have become the queen the people have wanted for the past twelve years. I am... here, Dodge. I am here.”
The silence is thick in the air, and she feels maybe she has taken a step too far this time, forgoing the conversation of her immaturity into territory of her feelings, his feelings.
“When you are done play a child's game, Hatter wishes to speak with you,” Dodge finally says to her, standing up stiffly and walking through her damaged colors, heading for the doors to the chamber. “It is what I came to speak with you about.”
And then he is gone.
Alyss Heart is left with a fading rainbow and a sigh of uncertainty.