"Thief of Hearts"
Title: Thief of Hearts
Author: vampirelissy14
Fandom: Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland
Pairing: Ilosovic/Mirana
Rating: R
Spoilers: Takes place after the events of the film, but is assuredly my own fanon AU.
Summary: She stole his heart long ago...and it's been her's ever since.
Thief of Hearts
Ilosovic Stayne was well aware that he was dreaming. He was certain of this because, only in his dreams would Mirana of Marmoreal be looking at him the way she was: as if he was the sweetest type of dessert and she couldn’t wait to devour him.
It was as unnerving as it was intoxicating, and when she beckoned him forward with a delicate finger, he moved without thinking: drawn towards this glowing, beautiful creature that, for reasons he couldn’t fathom, desired him.
“Oh Ilosovic,” she purred when he came close, her eyes sparkling playfully and her grin reminding him a lot of a certain cat that loved to appear and disappear at will. “I know what it is you want,” she trailed one hand over the soft, black linen shirt that covered his chest, and he couldn’t help his pleasant shudder when she traced figures over his heart. “What you’re after.”
He gulped, attempting to find his voice but his mouth was currently rather dry. “A-and what is that?”
Those dark eyes glinted more and she stepped even closer, so that there was barely any space between them. “Don’t play coy with me…you’ve been eying them for some time now.”
His gaze involuntarily darted downward before he brought his eyes to hers, his features flushed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Dark red lips curved into a sultry smirk and she leaned forward, her mouth nearly brushing his. “Yes you do. I’ve seen into your heart’s desires and I know…how badly you want to taste…” she paused now, purposely grazing her lips to his. “My…tarts.”
Ilosovic’s eyes narrowed and his voice, normally lilting and gentle, lowered to a more sensual growl. “Mirana…you’re playing with fire.”
“No my love, I’m playing with you,” and then, before he could blink, she dragged him into a fiery kiss that left him breathless and his mind whirling.
He stood there, completely flabbergasted, only to see her running up the corridor, away from him, giggling. Mirana cast a glance over her shoulder, the pale, glittering white skirts of her gown swishing around her legs as she did, lips curled into a smirk that said, very clearly: “Catch me if you can.”
Recovering, Ilosovic gave chase, following her as she ducked and twirled out of the way, catching glimpses of white silk that led him in the right direction.
He couldn’t quite believe his luck. This had to be the best dream he’d ever had, for the woman that he’d always admired, his beloved White Queen, was toying with him. Flirting with him. Wanting him as he wanted her. His heart sped up with each step he took: he had to catch her, to embrace her, and to finally, tell her exactly what he felt. If he couldn’t do that in a dream, after all, where else could he?
He trailed after his dream Mirana through the opulent marble halls of the palace, out into the gardens, among the hedges trimmed like animals and into the labyrinth of white roses until finally, he was certain he’d reached her, pushing past an enormous fern leaf only to realize too late that he’d walked right off a cliff.
He fell at a rapid speed, the air whooshing past him and through his hair, and then he looked down to see that he was moving towards an enormous heart-shaped strawberry tart.
Why is it nothing makes sense in this world? Even dreams? He thought hopelessly.
As he hurtled faster, he wondered what he had ever done to deserve such a fate: the bright red, smooth filling glistening at him mockingly, if such a thing were possible. It continued to do so until, finally, he fell in, the thick liquid causing him to sink quickly, filling his lungs, making it impossible to breathe. And as he drowned in the confection, he heard the lyrical, bell-like laugh of the woman he loved, the sweetest of sounds only adding to the irony of this horrible demise.
Ilosovic woke up with a start; gasping for air, sweat covering his pale, bare skin as he clutched at the silk bed covers tightly. His wild, wavy dark hair was plastered against his neck, and the eye he could still see with was wide, panic in the bright blue orb.
Shaking, he lowered his head, his hair covering the scar-tainted flesh on the right side of his face, trying in vain to forget the wonderful dream that had turned into a nightmare.
The nightmares had been coming more and more rapidly as of late. He supposed he should be grateful it wasn’t as bad as the dream he’d had once where Mirana had, during what seemed such a perfect moment, morphed into her older sister, Iracebeth. That one had terrified him so much that he hadn’t slept for nearly a month afterwards.
Sighing and pushing his hair away from his face, Ilosovic leaned across the bed to light a candle on the bed stand, offering a little illumination to the room. It would be some time before he managed to fall back to sleep now, so he debated on searching for something to read when his eyes fell across the pure white envelope that was resting on his bedside table.
Eyebrows furrowing, he glanced around suspiciously. The envelope had not been there when he’d gone to bed. He glimpsed a flash of white, fluffy tail darting out the door and his eye narrowed. What on earth would McTwisp be doing delivering something to him? The white rabbit worked for the White Queen, after all, and he was banished…exiled. Still…his curiosity was piqued now, so, resting on one elbow, he picked it up and opened it, his good eye wandering over familiar, elegant writing and widening when he realized it was hers.
At first, he couldn’t believe what he was reading, his heart swelling as he did, a glimmer of hope sparking and starting to grow within him. Blinking, he looked over it again till it finally sunk in: it was an invitation. From her…from Mirana.
The letter fell from his hands and onto his lap as he was suddenly carried away by memories, both fond and terrible.
The first thing he remembered was the last time he had seen her: after that terrible battle, looking so beautiful, and yet so angry: the fury in her eyes cutting him more than her clipped words. “I owe you nothing.”
He knew, deep down, how much he deserved that. He had betrayed her…and worse, betrayed his own heart. Ilosovic had loved Mirana since they were children, and some of the happiest memories he possessed were of the times they spent together.
He’d fallen in love…and his fear of losing her had led him to being seduced by Iracebeth’s promises of power. Mirana’s sister had tricked him into being her right hand, telling him that once she had the crown that he and Mirana could be together, but the events had taken a horrific turn and the sting of betrayal in the beautiful fallen Queen’s eyes had haunted him for years. He had hoped, after time, she would find it in her heart to forgive him. Mirana was everything that was good and true, but apparently even she could hold a grudge, and he really couldn’t blame her.
He hated himself, in so many ways, for what he’d done.
That look in her eyes when she’d banished him still burned through him: the hurt there wrenching his heart more than anything else. It wasn’t the first time he’d experienced that kind of look from her, though the last had been when they were still quite young children, and therefore was eventually forgotten as they grew older.
He referred to it as “the tart incident” and it would explain why, to this day…he hated those desserts with a passion. He had been around 9 at the time, Iracebeth had been 11 and Mirana…had just turned 6. In celebration for her birthday, Mirana had decided to hold a special tea party, and Ilosovic had been so excited to attend. Iracebeth had not been quite so eager but some gentle prodding and batting of Mirana’s pretty eyes had managed to convince her.
Iracebeth had always been jealous of her sister’s beauty, and, wanting to play a little trick on her, the smaller princess had taken it upon herself to bake tarts for the occasion…only she’d substituted sugar with salt and had purposely made the desserts inedible.
Ilosovic had not found it funny when he’d eaten one and, after spitting it out discreetly, realized what Iracebeth was up to.
It had led to shouting and screaming and Iracebeth chasing a stumbling Ilosovic (his limbs had always been rather gangly when he was a child) around the room as he tried to get rid of the tarts before Mirana returned.
Of course, what Mirana found when she did…didn’t do poor Ilosovic any favors: a tearful Iracebeth, a shattered plate, tarts all over the floor, and one knight in training looking very, very sheepish.
Mirana took her sister’s side, and Iracebeth of course made it all sound like he’d been stealing them, and the look the girl he’d already, at that young age, started having feelings for, had aimed at him…reminded him exactly of the one she’d given him when he’d been banished.
It was no wonder he’d felt so hurt on that day…and finding a way to escape Iracebeth’s clutches after had not been easy. He considered himself quite lucky to be alive to be honest.
He wondered, actually, how Mirana had been able to find out where he was in order to give him the invitation that now sat on his lap. Then again…the woman had a magic to her that could not be explained.
He picked the invitation up again, reading it over, trying to process it all. When they had been young, eventually that horrible incident involving the tarts had been forgotten and his friendship with her had been mended. But after the much deeper, personal betrayal that lead to Iracebeth taking over Underland…Mirana had been less eager to forgive. That had been evident upon his banishment with her sister.
But now…several years had passed, and apparently, with time, Mirana’s heart had softened.
It read:
Ilosovic;
I know things did not turn out the way we had hoped for when we were young, and it took me a while to see past my anger to realize how much I miss you. Your friendship meant the world to me, and…I’d like it if we could start over. I’m holding a tea party with some dear friends tomorrow evening. I know this is rather short notice, but it would mean the world to me if you came. Enclosed is a map to the location. I sincerely hope you’ll make it. There is much we need to talk about.
Your friend,
Mirana
Ilosovic just stared and stared at the letter she had written, dwelling in particular over the way she’d closed it: “Your friend.”
Friend. She still thought of him that way…even after all this time.
His heart started beating rapidly. She wanted to see him…wanted to talk to him.
Finally making a decision, after re-reading and re-reading and pinching himself to make certain he wasn’t dreaming, Ilosovic put the letter down and ran his fingers through his hair.
Sighing, he murmured to the empty room: “I wonder what I should wear…”
A mildly exasperated sigh escaped Mirana of Marmoreal and she rubbed briefly at her temple before speaking in a soft, gentle tone: “No, no…the angel food cake goes over there Mallymkun.” She pointed at the middle of the table, where an elaborate arrangement of pale lilies and white roses made up an elegant centerpiece. “By the flowers!” she did her best not raise her voice at the mouse, who quickly switched directions and delivered the cake exactly where the Queen requested.
Mirana smiled now as she took in the full display.
The large table that had been set up for this special gathering was covered in a pristine white cloth and all the dishes and silverware were the same flawless ivory in color, silver accents offering a pinch of color. All the foods she had chosen were white ones as well: cakes, white chocolates, fruits, and breads. And for tea, she’d picked her favorite jasmine blend, which she knew would go well with the snacks.
Satisfied with the looks of things, she glanced over to notice Tarrant, the court’s official Hatter and a dear friend, cleaning the delicate porcelain teapot she’d insisted they use.
Tarrant felt the Queen’s gaze upon him and looked over his shoulder, arching a bright orange eyebrow, his brilliant green eyes questioning. “Majesty…are you certain we shouldn’t be using something more sturdy?” he pointed discreetly at the March Hare, Thackary, who was busily preparing things and doing so messily.
Mirana knew well of the Hare’s mood swings and the destruction that came with them, but this entire affair was a particularly meaningful one to her and she wanted it to be special. “Tell him if he breaks any of the china he has to replace it all himself…that should calm him down a bit.”
The corners of Tarrant’s lips curled into a smile. “Good thinking you’re majesty. As always.”
Mirana actually chuckled at this, turning around to make some last minute adjustments to the flowers and letting out a startled gasp as she nearly smacked right into Chessur, the Cheshire Cat, who was smiling an all knowing grin. “Dearest Mirana…” he took her hand in his paw and pressed a kiss to it. “You’re looking particularly glowing today.”
“Chess,” she actually blushed a little. Chessur was a very charming animal with a smooth, seductive voice, after all. “You scared me!”
“ Not my intention, I assure you,” he chuckled softly. “But I caught a whiff of the most delicious aroma and had to investigate,” he peered over her shoulder. “Are you holding a party?”
“Yes,” she smiled warmly, moving towards the flowers again, Chessur floating beside her. “A tea party.”
“It’s not every day the Queen of Underland holds a tea party,” Chess remarked, green eyes glinting playfully. “What’s the special occasion?”
“Oh…just a simple gathering of old friends. You’re welcome to join us,” she leaned down to sniff at a rose and her smile grew.
Chessur was nothing if not an observant animal, and he could tell by the look in Mirana’s eyes and her gentle smile that there was more to this party than just a “simple gathering.”
“Someone special is coming, aren’t they? Someone you haven’t seen in a long time?” he purred, gliding into her line of vision. “A man, perhaps?”
The Queen paused, her features flushing slightly. “…perhaps.”
“Interesting. Three years have passed since you reclaimed the throne and yet…you still haven’t chosen a King.”
“I see no reason to make a rash decision on the matter,” Mirana shook her head, busying herself with straightening plates so they were in perfect position. “Why should a Queen need a King anyway?”
“Heirs.”
“That’s…”she blushed more. “I…I just think that if I marry it should be for love, not a need to produce children, that’s all.”
“Well…if I were human I’d gladly take that task upon myself.”
“CHESS!” she looked over at him, scandalized.
His smile turned sweeter. “But I’m not…” he reached out and tilted her chin up. “And I agree that you should wait till you find the person you love, my dear.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you Chessur…”
“You’re welcome. Now…I think I will join you, as that tea smells heavenly.” The blue and gray tabby floated over to a nearby chair and plopped down to wait.
Mirana giggled softly, about to say more, when she heard the familiar whinny of a horse and looked over her shoulder to spot Ilosovic sitting on top the black stallion that he always rode at the top of a nearby hill.
Her heart started beating rapidly upon seeing him. Despite the years away in exile, he still looked as handsome as ever. Swirling emotions began to course through her and, an elated smile on her face, she began to move towards him, waving happily.
Ilosovic saw her at the same time, and though he gulped nervously, he dismounted and waved back tentatively.
This made Mirana immediately break into a run towards him, gathering the skirts of her gown around her legs to move more swiftly as she did.
He moved towards her as just as quickly, overjoyed by her reaction, and finally, they were mere inches away from each other.
Everything seemed to slow down around them as they neared one another, Ilosovic’s instincts taking control as he knelt, reaching for her as she did for him. The next thing they both knew they were in each other’s arms, hugging tightly.
Mirana giggled softly when he stood, lifting her several feet off the ground in the process. “I’m so glad to see you, Ilosovic…its’ been too long.”
Unable to stop himself, he inhaled the scent of her hair, his arms tightening around her. “I’ve missed you, Mirana…so much. I’m glad to see you too.”
She pulled back, keeping her arms around his neck and toying with strands of his dark hair. “You haven’t changed I see…still as tall as ever.”
“I was debating whether to use some Pishalver in order to shrink to a more manageable size,” he admitted, enjoying the attention she was giving him, making no effort to put her down and instead scooping her up in his arms and carrying her over to the table. “But I thought you’d be able to recognize me better this way.”
There was a soft chuckle from the Queen as she nestled her head against his neck. “You’re hard to miss, you know?”
He laughed as well. “True. I suppose I am.”
She raked her eyes over him as they continued on, liking what she saw. He wasn’t wearing his armor, which left his lean, well-muscled form encased in a simple red and black laced tunic, which was combined with dark pants and knee length boots, all which fit him perfectly.
“You look good…” she mentioned, curling a little closer.
He looked over at her, and she was pleased to see that his features flushed at her praise. “And you look….stunning,” he managed.
Her face lit up at his praise and she blushed prettily. “Thank you…”
A slow smile spread over his face, and he was about to say something more when suddenly they both heard a rather loud crash, the shattering sound of something breaking, and, right after, a long string of rather amusing Scottish and Underlandish curses.
Mirana arched an eyebrow.
Ilosovic blinked before speaking. “I see Tarrant hasn’t changed.”
She chuckled and rolled her eyes. “No, he hasn’t,”
They shared an amused look before he finished carrying her over to the table, setting her down in a chair and looking across to see Thackery, the March Hare, staring at them both with a slacked jaw.
“You…he…that’s…” the insane rabbit began.
“Invited,” Mirana countered smoothly before any theatrics could begin, and gestured for Ilosovic to sit next to her.
The knight did as she requested, clearing his throat self-consciously. “Hello.”
“You invited him?!?!” Tarrant, evidently, had finally taken notice of their guest and, judging from the deeper, angrier tone of his voice, he was seriously displeased.
Mirana fixed the Hatter with a glare that could send any man running for cover. “Yes. I invited him. Ilosovic is an old friend and, despite the things that have happened, I will always consider him as one.”
“But he tried to KILL me! And Alice. MULTIPLE TIMES!”
“ ...Maybe I should just leave,” Ilosovic started.
“No! You’re staying!” the glare was now aimed at him and he gulped slightly.
“Yes m’am,” he sat back down again.
“Now…Tarrant,” the glare was aimed at the other man again. “It’s time to put your differences with Ilosovic aside. Three years have passed. He’s a different man, and so are you. I just want us all to have a nice, normal party. So sit down…and pass the scones, will you?”
Tarrant stood there, his features unreadable, before saying, softly: “Yes, your majesty.” He sat down, grabbing the plate of scones and passing them to Mirana, all the while aiming a look towards Ilosovic that clearly said: “I’m watching you.”
The Knave of Hearts just stared back at the Hatter, privately wondering what the hell he’d gotten himself into and whether it was worth it in the end.
Then he looked to his left, and found Mirana gazing at him with a soft smile before she reached out and squeezed his hand gently, and decided it definitely was.
For a few minutes, silence lapsed as drinks were poured and china clinked as plates of food were passed around.
“Well…” Tarrant cleared his throat and glanced over at Ilosovic who was sipping quietly at his tea. “I’m very curious Stayne…you were banished with her majesty’s sister, and yet you’ve come alone. How is the bloody big head these days?”
Ilosovic nearly spit out his drink and Mirana went into a coughing fit as she practically choked on hers.
Ilosovic wiped his mouth with his sleeve and tried to appear casual. “I haven’t seen Iracebeth for three years now.”
“But you were shackled together. I remember it clear as day,” the grin on Tarrant’s face was downright wicked. “How’d you get away from her?”
Ilosovic realized quickly that everyone’s eyes were on him, some eagerly waiting for him to tell the story, and his mind flashed back to exactly how he had managed to get away from Mirana’s large-headed, short tempered sister.
“Will you hold still?” Ilosovic muttered as Iracebeth continued to squirm. “Do you want to be out of these shackles or not?”
She opened one eye and glared at him accusingly. “I don’t trust you! You’ll cut my hand off!”
“ I will if you don’t stop moving around,” he glared, before poising the sword again. “Now…on three. One…”
“Wait! Aren’t you left handed?”
“…. Will you just shut up and let me do this???”
“You ARE left handed!!!”
“AGH. Just…stay perfectly still. One…two….”
Iracebeth squeezed both eyes shut again, taking a deep breath in.
“Three!” He brought the sword down.
Slowly, she opened her eyes when she realized there was no searing pain or the thud of an amputated limb on the ground.
She glanced down and saw that she was free, one cuff dangling off her wrist. “Well…what do you know? It worked!” she glanced up, about to thank Ilosovic but found that he was nowhere to be seen.
“……STAYNE!!!!!”
“Once I was free: I ran, and never looked back,” Ilosovic explained. “As far as I know, she’s still out there somewhere.”
Tarrant smiled darkly. “It would have been more amusing had you actually cut her hand off.”
“Tarrant!” Mirana admonished, the glare that could not be reckoned with once again aimed at the Hatter.
He squirmed in his chair for a moment before ducking his head to sip at his tea and mumble incoherently into the cup.
Rolling her eyes, Mirana focused her attention on Ilosovic again. “Thank you…for not harming my sister in your escape,” she murmured softly.
A smile tugged at the corners of Ilosovic’s lips. “I may not have loved your sister, but she did show me kindness all those years. I couldn’t bring myself to be cruel to her when I gained my freedom.”
“And you have no idea where she is?”
He shrugged. “Iracebeth has always been a strong, capable woman…I’m sure she’s managed to survive.”
“True,” she took a dainty sip of her tea.
The action reminded him of how much she had not changed over the years: still poised and elegant and so beautiful it was almost heartbreaking.
Mirana felt his gaze lingering upon her and turned to glance over the rim of her teacup at him, her eyebrows arching. “What?”
He flushed slightly at being caught staring. “Nothing.”
“You’re holding that spoon upside down,” she remarked, a smirk playing at those lovely lips. “That’s got to mean something more than “nothing.”
Ilosovic’s color deepened slightly and he quickly turned the utensil around the right way, wiping the handle off with a napkin before stirring his tea slowly.
Mirana chuckled and rested a hand on his arm warmly. “I don’t mind you looking, you know.”
Slowly, he twisted around again to look at her again, their eyes locking with each other.
Reaching out, forgetting propriety entirely, Mirana stroked slowly over Ilosovic’s cheek. “I’ve never minded you looking…”
His hand closed over hers, stilling the movement but kissing her palm lightly. “Mirana. I…”
She leaned closer. “Ilosovic…”
The world around them once again seemed to slow to a crawl, the pair moving closer and closer together, forgetting about the party…about everything else except for each other.
Just as their lips were about to meet, there was a rather loud “ahem”, which brought them both back to reality as they remembered they weren’t alone.
They both looked over to see Tarrant glowering at them, his arms crossed over his chest.
“Isn’t that better suited for a private party?”
“Move down! Move down!” Thackery suddenly shouted, waking poor Mallymkun, who’d been sleeping, and jolted awake with a surprised squeak.
It was a sudden chaotic shuffle as everyone moved down one seat and Mirana took advantage of this to grip Ilosovic’s hand tightly. “Care to get out of here?”
“But you’re the one who put together the party,” he whispered.
“They’ll never miss me,” she winked mischievously, tugging in order to coax him away from the madness, which caused Ilosovic to smile softly and willingly be lead away.
Their destination was a sunlit meadow sequestered away in a more secluded area of the woods. It was like a private little sanctuary, filled with lush green grass and brightly colored flowers.
Ilosovic looked around, his handsome features awed “This place is beautiful.”
“ It’s a favorite spot of mine,” Mirana explained as she plopped down on a soft-looking patch of grass and patted at the space beside her invitingly. “Would you like to come down to me or should I come up to you?” She unfolded a handkerchief that she’d had hidden among the skirts of her gown, revealing two nearly identical looking tarts, save for the filling in one being pink and the other red.
He blinked as he sat next to her. “Let me guess: Pishalver’s in one and the other is Upelkuchen?”
Her laughter floated in the air. “Yes, so which will it be?”
He paused, considering. “If you don’t mind…would you come up here this time?”
She just smiled at him and took a bite of the red-filled tart without question.
The effects of the potions were always instant, and the next thing Ilosovic knew, Mirana was now nearly the same size as he was, licking at her fingers slowly as she wiped crumbs away from the dessert. Her resplendent white gown was now stretched over her figure, the bodice hugging more tightly and revealing more cleavage while the skirt barely reached her thighs.
“That’s better,” she mumbled.
Ilosovic stared for a long moment, unable to tear his eyes away from the amount of pale skin that was now revealed. “Is it?” he managed, his voice a little higher in pitch than usual.
Mirana looked over her shoulder, locks of snow-colored hair falling into her gaze as ruby lips curved into a sly smirk. “Oh yes…very…” she suddenly turned, and unceremoniously crawled into his lap. “For instance, now I can do this without having to stand on a chair,” and before he could even ask what she was doing, her mouth had claimed his and he decided to stop thinking.
It only took a kiss: Mirana’s lips soft and sweet against his and her fingers curling into his thick black hair to tug him closer, and Ilosovic was done for. His feelings for the woman in his arms came crashing to the surface and he groaned softly as he pulled her tighter against him and the embrace deepened drastically.
Smiling against his lips, Mirana grasped at his shirt collar and dragged him back with her as she reclined onto the grass, their forms entangling instinctively. Her fingers fisted in the cloth of his shirt when he trailed a hand slowly up her leg, making her breath hitch and her body arch against his.
He pulled back for air, taking in the sight of her lying there beneath him: lips swollen from his affections and hair fanning out like white silk over the green grass.
Tracing the shape of her mouth tenderly with an elegant finger, Ilosovic sighed. “I’ve really missed you, you know?”
“I do,” her fingers toyed with the laces of his tunic before swiftly beginning to undo them. “I’ve felt just the same way…that’s why I needed to find you.”
He lowered his head to rain gentle kisses along her neck, nipping slightly at her tender skin and delighting in the soft whimper that emerged. “I’m glad you did…”
“So am I,” she gasped, her head falling back when his tongue laved over the dip in her collar, which made her curl closer. “So…so glad.”
His laughter reverberated against her skin and his face once again loomed above her before he leaned down and kissed her again. “Enough talk for now…I’m more in the mood for some rediscovery.”
His words made her laugh as well, and she tugged insistently at the hem of his tunic, eager for the feel of his bare skin against her hands.
He lifted his arms to allow her to divest him of the shirt, which fluttered to the ground as her fingers skimmed over his leanly muscled torso, the pair kissing again while Ilosovic’s skilled fingers working to rid Mirana of her clothes just as quickly.
Soon it was skin upon skin, and the heat that had just begun to simmer between them jumped several degrees as Ilosovic worshipped Mirana’s body with loving touches and kisses, letting her know with each attention how much he cared for her.
Her heart thundered against her ribcage when his lips moved over her shoulder, down further till he lingered along her breasts, his fingers straying over the curve of her hip, the touch of his fingers a light, feathery caress that sent her lust for him spiraling out of control.
In a quick, unexpected movement, Ilosovic found himself on his back while Mirana showered kisses over his warm skin, memorizing the tone of his chest and abdomen, giving him the same amount of devotion that he had just given her.
His head fell back when she bit lightly at the junction between his neck and shoulder, a pleased hiss escaping while he gripped more tightly at her hips and swiftly pinned her underneath him again with a soft growl, biting playfully at her lips. “Temptress…”
“Temptation,” she teased, responding to his bites with ones of her own, tongues meeting and dueling in a mirror of their entangled bodies.
Her hips arched towards his in an invitation that he gladly took, joining them with a fluid motion in the next second.
Mirana cried out sharply, her nails digging into his shoulders as the most pleasant, intoxication sensation filled her system and the world around them seemed to shatter. Her heart flipped in her chest when she slowly opened her eyes to meet Ilosovic’s and found him staring at her with the most open affection on his handsome features.
Sweetly, she lifted away the patch that covered the one eye that had been taken, so long ago, in a brutal battle with the Jabberwocky, the flesh on the right side of his face horrifically scarred in the process. Leaning up, she pressed warm kisses to his skin, cupping his face between her hands as she did.
Ilosovic sighed contentedly, gathering her closer in his arms, whispering to her softly before he began to move, and then…everything ceased to exist.
“There’s one tiny downside to this…” Mirana mused, much later, stroking her fingers slowly through an equally exhausted Ilosovic’s hopelessly tousled hair.
“And what’s that?” he mumbled, face half buried in her neck so his words were slightly muffled.
Mirana’s lips quirked into a smile and she kissed the top of his head sweetly. “Once we get started I don’t want to stop.”
He groaned tiredly. “If we don’t you might kill me,”
She laughed, nuzzling at his hair. “And I wouldn’t want that.”
He finally raised his head, blinking sleepily at her, his hair falling over the scarred side of his face.
He looked downright adorable to her then and she stretched against him, startling a quiet moan out of him as their bodies were still a pleasant tangle with one another. Dipping his head down, he kissed her lovingly, the two of them wrapping around each other further.
Groaning against his mouth, Mirana finally said the words that he’d been longing to hear for a very long time. “I love you…”
He pulled back again staring at her seriously. “You mean that?”
“Of course. I should have realized…all those years ago…that I always have.”
The smile she gave him lit up her face and his heart skipped a beat before he leaned down again and captured her mouth with his. “And I’ve never stopped loving you…even after all this time.”
“I’m glad,” she slung a leg over his hip to keep their bodies close, her hands traveling over his chest and stomach.
Bearing her back against the grass, Ilosovic deepened the embrace, desire sparking once more and taking control.
And that, of course, was when they heard a dry, amused tone. “Well, well, well…”
Both of them looked up to find Chessur perched on the branch of a nearby tree, grinning in his typical way. “It looks like while the cat was away, the mice started playing. Though you’re both rather…large for mice. That’s an interesting shade of pink you’re turning Stayne.”
“Chessur!!!” Mirana finally regained some semblance of reason and she and Ilosovic scrambled to cover themselves up as best they could. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“And haven’t you ever heard of-
“Don’t bother making some comment about knocking. There’s no door. Tarrant asked me to find the two of you and I found you. Though…what to tell him?” the cat peered at his claws. “This is quite the scandal, after all…the Queen caught in such a compromising position with the Knave who once worked for her sister.”
“Chess…don’t you dare…” Mirana warned.
“And Tarrant will have quite a vocal reaction when he finds out what the two of you were up to…however…Mirana, remember earlier when you and I were discussing your lack of a King?”
“That’s blackmail,” she gasped, though Ilosovic gazed at Chess with interest.
“What do you mean?”
“The Queen needs a King, after all…to provide heirs. Since you two already seem to be getting a head start on the latter, I see no reason you shouldn’t think of making it official.”
Slowly, Mirana looked over at Ilosovic, who stared right back at her before taking her hand gently in his. “Mirana…the disappearing cat actually makes sense.”
“He does,” she nodded, biting cutely at her lower lip. “But I don’t want to push you into something just because it was suggested.”
Smiling, her love leaned close. “Who said anything about pushing? What if this is what I’ve wanted for a long time, but I never had a chance to ask?”
Her eyes met his, and his smile grew as he took both her hands now, his gaze never leaving hers.
“Mirana of Marmoreal…love of my life,” he began, making her breath hitch and her heart beat in anticipation. “Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
For a long, nearly painful moment, she was silent, before she broke into that dazzling grin and flinging herself into his arms. “Yes. Absolutely! I want nothing more!”
Chuckling, he tilted her head and kissed her, and when they pulled away, they both looked up to thank the Cheshire only to discover him gone.
“Do you think…” Ilosovic began.
“That he did that on purpose? Yes. But forget about the evaporating, nosy cat…you just proposed to me, and I said yes. I think we should do some celebrating, and I just so happen…” she rummaged around her discarded dress and pulled out another folded kerchief. “To have made something very special for us…” she opened it to reveal another set of tarts. “Want a taste?” she held one up to him with an expression that made a pleasant shiver ease up his spine.
He leaned forward to take a bite, and from that day forth, tarts were officially his favorite dessert.
The End
Author: vampirelissy14
Fandom: Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland
Pairing: Ilosovic/Mirana
Rating: R
Spoilers: Takes place after the events of the film, but is assuredly my own fanon AU.
Summary: She stole his heart long ago...and it's been her's ever since.
Thief of Hearts
Ilosovic Stayne was well aware that he was dreaming. He was certain of this because, only in his dreams would Mirana of Marmoreal be looking at him the way she was: as if he was the sweetest type of dessert and she couldn’t wait to devour him.
It was as unnerving as it was intoxicating, and when she beckoned him forward with a delicate finger, he moved without thinking: drawn towards this glowing, beautiful creature that, for reasons he couldn’t fathom, desired him.
“Oh Ilosovic,” she purred when he came close, her eyes sparkling playfully and her grin reminding him a lot of a certain cat that loved to appear and disappear at will. “I know what it is you want,” she trailed one hand over the soft, black linen shirt that covered his chest, and he couldn’t help his pleasant shudder when she traced figures over his heart. “What you’re after.”
He gulped, attempting to find his voice but his mouth was currently rather dry. “A-and what is that?”
Those dark eyes glinted more and she stepped even closer, so that there was barely any space between them. “Don’t play coy with me…you’ve been eying them for some time now.”
His gaze involuntarily darted downward before he brought his eyes to hers, his features flushed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Dark red lips curved into a sultry smirk and she leaned forward, her mouth nearly brushing his. “Yes you do. I’ve seen into your heart’s desires and I know…how badly you want to taste…” she paused now, purposely grazing her lips to his. “My…tarts.”
Ilosovic’s eyes narrowed and his voice, normally lilting and gentle, lowered to a more sensual growl. “Mirana…you’re playing with fire.”
“No my love, I’m playing with you,” and then, before he could blink, she dragged him into a fiery kiss that left him breathless and his mind whirling.
He stood there, completely flabbergasted, only to see her running up the corridor, away from him, giggling. Mirana cast a glance over her shoulder, the pale, glittering white skirts of her gown swishing around her legs as she did, lips curled into a smirk that said, very clearly: “Catch me if you can.”
Recovering, Ilosovic gave chase, following her as she ducked and twirled out of the way, catching glimpses of white silk that led him in the right direction.
He couldn’t quite believe his luck. This had to be the best dream he’d ever had, for the woman that he’d always admired, his beloved White Queen, was toying with him. Flirting with him. Wanting him as he wanted her. His heart sped up with each step he took: he had to catch her, to embrace her, and to finally, tell her exactly what he felt. If he couldn’t do that in a dream, after all, where else could he?
He trailed after his dream Mirana through the opulent marble halls of the palace, out into the gardens, among the hedges trimmed like animals and into the labyrinth of white roses until finally, he was certain he’d reached her, pushing past an enormous fern leaf only to realize too late that he’d walked right off a cliff.
He fell at a rapid speed, the air whooshing past him and through his hair, and then he looked down to see that he was moving towards an enormous heart-shaped strawberry tart.
Why is it nothing makes sense in this world? Even dreams? He thought hopelessly.
As he hurtled faster, he wondered what he had ever done to deserve such a fate: the bright red, smooth filling glistening at him mockingly, if such a thing were possible. It continued to do so until, finally, he fell in, the thick liquid causing him to sink quickly, filling his lungs, making it impossible to breathe. And as he drowned in the confection, he heard the lyrical, bell-like laugh of the woman he loved, the sweetest of sounds only adding to the irony of this horrible demise.
Ilosovic woke up with a start; gasping for air, sweat covering his pale, bare skin as he clutched at the silk bed covers tightly. His wild, wavy dark hair was plastered against his neck, and the eye he could still see with was wide, panic in the bright blue orb.
Shaking, he lowered his head, his hair covering the scar-tainted flesh on the right side of his face, trying in vain to forget the wonderful dream that had turned into a nightmare.
The nightmares had been coming more and more rapidly as of late. He supposed he should be grateful it wasn’t as bad as the dream he’d had once where Mirana had, during what seemed such a perfect moment, morphed into her older sister, Iracebeth. That one had terrified him so much that he hadn’t slept for nearly a month afterwards.
Sighing and pushing his hair away from his face, Ilosovic leaned across the bed to light a candle on the bed stand, offering a little illumination to the room. It would be some time before he managed to fall back to sleep now, so he debated on searching for something to read when his eyes fell across the pure white envelope that was resting on his bedside table.
Eyebrows furrowing, he glanced around suspiciously. The envelope had not been there when he’d gone to bed. He glimpsed a flash of white, fluffy tail darting out the door and his eye narrowed. What on earth would McTwisp be doing delivering something to him? The white rabbit worked for the White Queen, after all, and he was banished…exiled. Still…his curiosity was piqued now, so, resting on one elbow, he picked it up and opened it, his good eye wandering over familiar, elegant writing and widening when he realized it was hers.
At first, he couldn’t believe what he was reading, his heart swelling as he did, a glimmer of hope sparking and starting to grow within him. Blinking, he looked over it again till it finally sunk in: it was an invitation. From her…from Mirana.
The letter fell from his hands and onto his lap as he was suddenly carried away by memories, both fond and terrible.
The first thing he remembered was the last time he had seen her: after that terrible battle, looking so beautiful, and yet so angry: the fury in her eyes cutting him more than her clipped words. “I owe you nothing.”
He knew, deep down, how much he deserved that. He had betrayed her…and worse, betrayed his own heart. Ilosovic had loved Mirana since they were children, and some of the happiest memories he possessed were of the times they spent together.
He’d fallen in love…and his fear of losing her had led him to being seduced by Iracebeth’s promises of power. Mirana’s sister had tricked him into being her right hand, telling him that once she had the crown that he and Mirana could be together, but the events had taken a horrific turn and the sting of betrayal in the beautiful fallen Queen’s eyes had haunted him for years. He had hoped, after time, she would find it in her heart to forgive him. Mirana was everything that was good and true, but apparently even she could hold a grudge, and he really couldn’t blame her.
He hated himself, in so many ways, for what he’d done.
That look in her eyes when she’d banished him still burned through him: the hurt there wrenching his heart more than anything else. It wasn’t the first time he’d experienced that kind of look from her, though the last had been when they were still quite young children, and therefore was eventually forgotten as they grew older.
He referred to it as “the tart incident” and it would explain why, to this day…he hated those desserts with a passion. He had been around 9 at the time, Iracebeth had been 11 and Mirana…had just turned 6. In celebration for her birthday, Mirana had decided to hold a special tea party, and Ilosovic had been so excited to attend. Iracebeth had not been quite so eager but some gentle prodding and batting of Mirana’s pretty eyes had managed to convince her.
Iracebeth had always been jealous of her sister’s beauty, and, wanting to play a little trick on her, the smaller princess had taken it upon herself to bake tarts for the occasion…only she’d substituted sugar with salt and had purposely made the desserts inedible.
Ilosovic had not found it funny when he’d eaten one and, after spitting it out discreetly, realized what Iracebeth was up to.
It had led to shouting and screaming and Iracebeth chasing a stumbling Ilosovic (his limbs had always been rather gangly when he was a child) around the room as he tried to get rid of the tarts before Mirana returned.
Of course, what Mirana found when she did…didn’t do poor Ilosovic any favors: a tearful Iracebeth, a shattered plate, tarts all over the floor, and one knight in training looking very, very sheepish.
Mirana took her sister’s side, and Iracebeth of course made it all sound like he’d been stealing them, and the look the girl he’d already, at that young age, started having feelings for, had aimed at him…reminded him exactly of the one she’d given him when he’d been banished.
It was no wonder he’d felt so hurt on that day…and finding a way to escape Iracebeth’s clutches after had not been easy. He considered himself quite lucky to be alive to be honest.
He wondered, actually, how Mirana had been able to find out where he was in order to give him the invitation that now sat on his lap. Then again…the woman had a magic to her that could not be explained.
He picked the invitation up again, reading it over, trying to process it all. When they had been young, eventually that horrible incident involving the tarts had been forgotten and his friendship with her had been mended. But after the much deeper, personal betrayal that lead to Iracebeth taking over Underland…Mirana had been less eager to forgive. That had been evident upon his banishment with her sister.
But now…several years had passed, and apparently, with time, Mirana’s heart had softened.
It read:
Ilosovic;
I know things did not turn out the way we had hoped for when we were young, and it took me a while to see past my anger to realize how much I miss you. Your friendship meant the world to me, and…I’d like it if we could start over. I’m holding a tea party with some dear friends tomorrow evening. I know this is rather short notice, but it would mean the world to me if you came. Enclosed is a map to the location. I sincerely hope you’ll make it. There is much we need to talk about.
Your friend,
Mirana
Ilosovic just stared and stared at the letter she had written, dwelling in particular over the way she’d closed it: “Your friend.”
Friend. She still thought of him that way…even after all this time.
His heart started beating rapidly. She wanted to see him…wanted to talk to him.
Finally making a decision, after re-reading and re-reading and pinching himself to make certain he wasn’t dreaming, Ilosovic put the letter down and ran his fingers through his hair.
Sighing, he murmured to the empty room: “I wonder what I should wear…”
A mildly exasperated sigh escaped Mirana of Marmoreal and she rubbed briefly at her temple before speaking in a soft, gentle tone: “No, no…the angel food cake goes over there Mallymkun.” She pointed at the middle of the table, where an elaborate arrangement of pale lilies and white roses made up an elegant centerpiece. “By the flowers!” she did her best not raise her voice at the mouse, who quickly switched directions and delivered the cake exactly where the Queen requested.
Mirana smiled now as she took in the full display.
The large table that had been set up for this special gathering was covered in a pristine white cloth and all the dishes and silverware were the same flawless ivory in color, silver accents offering a pinch of color. All the foods she had chosen were white ones as well: cakes, white chocolates, fruits, and breads. And for tea, she’d picked her favorite jasmine blend, which she knew would go well with the snacks.
Satisfied with the looks of things, she glanced over to notice Tarrant, the court’s official Hatter and a dear friend, cleaning the delicate porcelain teapot she’d insisted they use.
Tarrant felt the Queen’s gaze upon him and looked over his shoulder, arching a bright orange eyebrow, his brilliant green eyes questioning. “Majesty…are you certain we shouldn’t be using something more sturdy?” he pointed discreetly at the March Hare, Thackary, who was busily preparing things and doing so messily.
Mirana knew well of the Hare’s mood swings and the destruction that came with them, but this entire affair was a particularly meaningful one to her and she wanted it to be special. “Tell him if he breaks any of the china he has to replace it all himself…that should calm him down a bit.”
The corners of Tarrant’s lips curled into a smile. “Good thinking you’re majesty. As always.”
Mirana actually chuckled at this, turning around to make some last minute adjustments to the flowers and letting out a startled gasp as she nearly smacked right into Chessur, the Cheshire Cat, who was smiling an all knowing grin. “Dearest Mirana…” he took her hand in his paw and pressed a kiss to it. “You’re looking particularly glowing today.”
“Chess,” she actually blushed a little. Chessur was a very charming animal with a smooth, seductive voice, after all. “You scared me!”
“ Not my intention, I assure you,” he chuckled softly. “But I caught a whiff of the most delicious aroma and had to investigate,” he peered over her shoulder. “Are you holding a party?”
“Yes,” she smiled warmly, moving towards the flowers again, Chessur floating beside her. “A tea party.”
“It’s not every day the Queen of Underland holds a tea party,” Chess remarked, green eyes glinting playfully. “What’s the special occasion?”
“Oh…just a simple gathering of old friends. You’re welcome to join us,” she leaned down to sniff at a rose and her smile grew.
Chessur was nothing if not an observant animal, and he could tell by the look in Mirana’s eyes and her gentle smile that there was more to this party than just a “simple gathering.”
“Someone special is coming, aren’t they? Someone you haven’t seen in a long time?” he purred, gliding into her line of vision. “A man, perhaps?”
The Queen paused, her features flushing slightly. “…perhaps.”
“Interesting. Three years have passed since you reclaimed the throne and yet…you still haven’t chosen a King.”
“I see no reason to make a rash decision on the matter,” Mirana shook her head, busying herself with straightening plates so they were in perfect position. “Why should a Queen need a King anyway?”
“Heirs.”
“That’s…”she blushed more. “I…I just think that if I marry it should be for love, not a need to produce children, that’s all.”
“Well…if I were human I’d gladly take that task upon myself.”
“CHESS!” she looked over at him, scandalized.
His smile turned sweeter. “But I’m not…” he reached out and tilted her chin up. “And I agree that you should wait till you find the person you love, my dear.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you Chessur…”
“You’re welcome. Now…I think I will join you, as that tea smells heavenly.” The blue and gray tabby floated over to a nearby chair and plopped down to wait.
Mirana giggled softly, about to say more, when she heard the familiar whinny of a horse and looked over her shoulder to spot Ilosovic sitting on top the black stallion that he always rode at the top of a nearby hill.
Her heart started beating rapidly upon seeing him. Despite the years away in exile, he still looked as handsome as ever. Swirling emotions began to course through her and, an elated smile on her face, she began to move towards him, waving happily.
Ilosovic saw her at the same time, and though he gulped nervously, he dismounted and waved back tentatively.
This made Mirana immediately break into a run towards him, gathering the skirts of her gown around her legs to move more swiftly as she did.
He moved towards her as just as quickly, overjoyed by her reaction, and finally, they were mere inches away from each other.
Everything seemed to slow down around them as they neared one another, Ilosovic’s instincts taking control as he knelt, reaching for her as she did for him. The next thing they both knew they were in each other’s arms, hugging tightly.
Mirana giggled softly when he stood, lifting her several feet off the ground in the process. “I’m so glad to see you, Ilosovic…its’ been too long.”
Unable to stop himself, he inhaled the scent of her hair, his arms tightening around her. “I’ve missed you, Mirana…so much. I’m glad to see you too.”
She pulled back, keeping her arms around his neck and toying with strands of his dark hair. “You haven’t changed I see…still as tall as ever.”
“I was debating whether to use some Pishalver in order to shrink to a more manageable size,” he admitted, enjoying the attention she was giving him, making no effort to put her down and instead scooping her up in his arms and carrying her over to the table. “But I thought you’d be able to recognize me better this way.”
There was a soft chuckle from the Queen as she nestled her head against his neck. “You’re hard to miss, you know?”
He laughed as well. “True. I suppose I am.”
She raked her eyes over him as they continued on, liking what she saw. He wasn’t wearing his armor, which left his lean, well-muscled form encased in a simple red and black laced tunic, which was combined with dark pants and knee length boots, all which fit him perfectly.
“You look good…” she mentioned, curling a little closer.
He looked over at her, and she was pleased to see that his features flushed at her praise. “And you look….stunning,” he managed.
Her face lit up at his praise and she blushed prettily. “Thank you…”
A slow smile spread over his face, and he was about to say something more when suddenly they both heard a rather loud crash, the shattering sound of something breaking, and, right after, a long string of rather amusing Scottish and Underlandish curses.
Mirana arched an eyebrow.
Ilosovic blinked before speaking. “I see Tarrant hasn’t changed.”
She chuckled and rolled her eyes. “No, he hasn’t,”
They shared an amused look before he finished carrying her over to the table, setting her down in a chair and looking across to see Thackery, the March Hare, staring at them both with a slacked jaw.
“You…he…that’s…” the insane rabbit began.
“Invited,” Mirana countered smoothly before any theatrics could begin, and gestured for Ilosovic to sit next to her.
The knight did as she requested, clearing his throat self-consciously. “Hello.”
“You invited him?!?!” Tarrant, evidently, had finally taken notice of their guest and, judging from the deeper, angrier tone of his voice, he was seriously displeased.
Mirana fixed the Hatter with a glare that could send any man running for cover. “Yes. I invited him. Ilosovic is an old friend and, despite the things that have happened, I will always consider him as one.”
“But he tried to KILL me! And Alice. MULTIPLE TIMES!”
“ ...Maybe I should just leave,” Ilosovic started.
“No! You’re staying!” the glare was now aimed at him and he gulped slightly.
“Yes m’am,” he sat back down again.
“Now…Tarrant,” the glare was aimed at the other man again. “It’s time to put your differences with Ilosovic aside. Three years have passed. He’s a different man, and so are you. I just want us all to have a nice, normal party. So sit down…and pass the scones, will you?”
Tarrant stood there, his features unreadable, before saying, softly: “Yes, your majesty.” He sat down, grabbing the plate of scones and passing them to Mirana, all the while aiming a look towards Ilosovic that clearly said: “I’m watching you.”
The Knave of Hearts just stared back at the Hatter, privately wondering what the hell he’d gotten himself into and whether it was worth it in the end.
Then he looked to his left, and found Mirana gazing at him with a soft smile before she reached out and squeezed his hand gently, and decided it definitely was.
For a few minutes, silence lapsed as drinks were poured and china clinked as plates of food were passed around.
“Well…” Tarrant cleared his throat and glanced over at Ilosovic who was sipping quietly at his tea. “I’m very curious Stayne…you were banished with her majesty’s sister, and yet you’ve come alone. How is the bloody big head these days?”
Ilosovic nearly spit out his drink and Mirana went into a coughing fit as she practically choked on hers.
Ilosovic wiped his mouth with his sleeve and tried to appear casual. “I haven’t seen Iracebeth for three years now.”
“But you were shackled together. I remember it clear as day,” the grin on Tarrant’s face was downright wicked. “How’d you get away from her?”
Ilosovic realized quickly that everyone’s eyes were on him, some eagerly waiting for him to tell the story, and his mind flashed back to exactly how he had managed to get away from Mirana’s large-headed, short tempered sister.
“Will you hold still?” Ilosovic muttered as Iracebeth continued to squirm. “Do you want to be out of these shackles or not?”
She opened one eye and glared at him accusingly. “I don’t trust you! You’ll cut my hand off!”
“ I will if you don’t stop moving around,” he glared, before poising the sword again. “Now…on three. One…”
“Wait! Aren’t you left handed?”
“…. Will you just shut up and let me do this???”
“You ARE left handed!!!”
“AGH. Just…stay perfectly still. One…two….”
Iracebeth squeezed both eyes shut again, taking a deep breath in.
“Three!” He brought the sword down.
Slowly, she opened her eyes when she realized there was no searing pain or the thud of an amputated limb on the ground.
She glanced down and saw that she was free, one cuff dangling off her wrist. “Well…what do you know? It worked!” she glanced up, about to thank Ilosovic but found that he was nowhere to be seen.
“……STAYNE!!!!!”
“Once I was free: I ran, and never looked back,” Ilosovic explained. “As far as I know, she’s still out there somewhere.”
Tarrant smiled darkly. “It would have been more amusing had you actually cut her hand off.”
“Tarrant!” Mirana admonished, the glare that could not be reckoned with once again aimed at the Hatter.
He squirmed in his chair for a moment before ducking his head to sip at his tea and mumble incoherently into the cup.
Rolling her eyes, Mirana focused her attention on Ilosovic again. “Thank you…for not harming my sister in your escape,” she murmured softly.
A smile tugged at the corners of Ilosovic’s lips. “I may not have loved your sister, but she did show me kindness all those years. I couldn’t bring myself to be cruel to her when I gained my freedom.”
“And you have no idea where she is?”
He shrugged. “Iracebeth has always been a strong, capable woman…I’m sure she’s managed to survive.”
“True,” she took a dainty sip of her tea.
The action reminded him of how much she had not changed over the years: still poised and elegant and so beautiful it was almost heartbreaking.
Mirana felt his gaze lingering upon her and turned to glance over the rim of her teacup at him, her eyebrows arching. “What?”
He flushed slightly at being caught staring. “Nothing.”
“You’re holding that spoon upside down,” she remarked, a smirk playing at those lovely lips. “That’s got to mean something more than “nothing.”
Ilosovic’s color deepened slightly and he quickly turned the utensil around the right way, wiping the handle off with a napkin before stirring his tea slowly.
Mirana chuckled and rested a hand on his arm warmly. “I don’t mind you looking, you know.”
Slowly, he twisted around again to look at her again, their eyes locking with each other.
Reaching out, forgetting propriety entirely, Mirana stroked slowly over Ilosovic’s cheek. “I’ve never minded you looking…”
His hand closed over hers, stilling the movement but kissing her palm lightly. “Mirana. I…”
She leaned closer. “Ilosovic…”
The world around them once again seemed to slow to a crawl, the pair moving closer and closer together, forgetting about the party…about everything else except for each other.
Just as their lips were about to meet, there was a rather loud “ahem”, which brought them both back to reality as they remembered they weren’t alone.
They both looked over to see Tarrant glowering at them, his arms crossed over his chest.
“Isn’t that better suited for a private party?”
“Move down! Move down!” Thackery suddenly shouted, waking poor Mallymkun, who’d been sleeping, and jolted awake with a surprised squeak.
It was a sudden chaotic shuffle as everyone moved down one seat and Mirana took advantage of this to grip Ilosovic’s hand tightly. “Care to get out of here?”
“But you’re the one who put together the party,” he whispered.
“They’ll never miss me,” she winked mischievously, tugging in order to coax him away from the madness, which caused Ilosovic to smile softly and willingly be lead away.
Their destination was a sunlit meadow sequestered away in a more secluded area of the woods. It was like a private little sanctuary, filled with lush green grass and brightly colored flowers.
Ilosovic looked around, his handsome features awed “This place is beautiful.”
“ It’s a favorite spot of mine,” Mirana explained as she plopped down on a soft-looking patch of grass and patted at the space beside her invitingly. “Would you like to come down to me or should I come up to you?” She unfolded a handkerchief that she’d had hidden among the skirts of her gown, revealing two nearly identical looking tarts, save for the filling in one being pink and the other red.
He blinked as he sat next to her. “Let me guess: Pishalver’s in one and the other is Upelkuchen?”
Her laughter floated in the air. “Yes, so which will it be?”
He paused, considering. “If you don’t mind…would you come up here this time?”
She just smiled at him and took a bite of the red-filled tart without question.
The effects of the potions were always instant, and the next thing Ilosovic knew, Mirana was now nearly the same size as he was, licking at her fingers slowly as she wiped crumbs away from the dessert. Her resplendent white gown was now stretched over her figure, the bodice hugging more tightly and revealing more cleavage while the skirt barely reached her thighs.
“That’s better,” she mumbled.
Ilosovic stared for a long moment, unable to tear his eyes away from the amount of pale skin that was now revealed. “Is it?” he managed, his voice a little higher in pitch than usual.
Mirana looked over her shoulder, locks of snow-colored hair falling into her gaze as ruby lips curved into a sly smirk. “Oh yes…very…” she suddenly turned, and unceremoniously crawled into his lap. “For instance, now I can do this without having to stand on a chair,” and before he could even ask what she was doing, her mouth had claimed his and he decided to stop thinking.
It only took a kiss: Mirana’s lips soft and sweet against his and her fingers curling into his thick black hair to tug him closer, and Ilosovic was done for. His feelings for the woman in his arms came crashing to the surface and he groaned softly as he pulled her tighter against him and the embrace deepened drastically.
Smiling against his lips, Mirana grasped at his shirt collar and dragged him back with her as she reclined onto the grass, their forms entangling instinctively. Her fingers fisted in the cloth of his shirt when he trailed a hand slowly up her leg, making her breath hitch and her body arch against his.
He pulled back for air, taking in the sight of her lying there beneath him: lips swollen from his affections and hair fanning out like white silk over the green grass.
Tracing the shape of her mouth tenderly with an elegant finger, Ilosovic sighed. “I’ve really missed you, you know?”
“I do,” her fingers toyed with the laces of his tunic before swiftly beginning to undo them. “I’ve felt just the same way…that’s why I needed to find you.”
He lowered his head to rain gentle kisses along her neck, nipping slightly at her tender skin and delighting in the soft whimper that emerged. “I’m glad you did…”
“So am I,” she gasped, her head falling back when his tongue laved over the dip in her collar, which made her curl closer. “So…so glad.”
His laughter reverberated against her skin and his face once again loomed above her before he leaned down and kissed her again. “Enough talk for now…I’m more in the mood for some rediscovery.”
His words made her laugh as well, and she tugged insistently at the hem of his tunic, eager for the feel of his bare skin against her hands.
He lifted his arms to allow her to divest him of the shirt, which fluttered to the ground as her fingers skimmed over his leanly muscled torso, the pair kissing again while Ilosovic’s skilled fingers working to rid Mirana of her clothes just as quickly.
Soon it was skin upon skin, and the heat that had just begun to simmer between them jumped several degrees as Ilosovic worshipped Mirana’s body with loving touches and kisses, letting her know with each attention how much he cared for her.
Her heart thundered against her ribcage when his lips moved over her shoulder, down further till he lingered along her breasts, his fingers straying over the curve of her hip, the touch of his fingers a light, feathery caress that sent her lust for him spiraling out of control.
In a quick, unexpected movement, Ilosovic found himself on his back while Mirana showered kisses over his warm skin, memorizing the tone of his chest and abdomen, giving him the same amount of devotion that he had just given her.
His head fell back when she bit lightly at the junction between his neck and shoulder, a pleased hiss escaping while he gripped more tightly at her hips and swiftly pinned her underneath him again with a soft growl, biting playfully at her lips. “Temptress…”
“Temptation,” she teased, responding to his bites with ones of her own, tongues meeting and dueling in a mirror of their entangled bodies.
Her hips arched towards his in an invitation that he gladly took, joining them with a fluid motion in the next second.
Mirana cried out sharply, her nails digging into his shoulders as the most pleasant, intoxication sensation filled her system and the world around them seemed to shatter. Her heart flipped in her chest when she slowly opened her eyes to meet Ilosovic’s and found him staring at her with the most open affection on his handsome features.
Sweetly, she lifted away the patch that covered the one eye that had been taken, so long ago, in a brutal battle with the Jabberwocky, the flesh on the right side of his face horrifically scarred in the process. Leaning up, she pressed warm kisses to his skin, cupping his face between her hands as she did.
Ilosovic sighed contentedly, gathering her closer in his arms, whispering to her softly before he began to move, and then…everything ceased to exist.
“There’s one tiny downside to this…” Mirana mused, much later, stroking her fingers slowly through an equally exhausted Ilosovic’s hopelessly tousled hair.
“And what’s that?” he mumbled, face half buried in her neck so his words were slightly muffled.
Mirana’s lips quirked into a smile and she kissed the top of his head sweetly. “Once we get started I don’t want to stop.”
He groaned tiredly. “If we don’t you might kill me,”
She laughed, nuzzling at his hair. “And I wouldn’t want that.”
He finally raised his head, blinking sleepily at her, his hair falling over the scarred side of his face.
He looked downright adorable to her then and she stretched against him, startling a quiet moan out of him as their bodies were still a pleasant tangle with one another. Dipping his head down, he kissed her lovingly, the two of them wrapping around each other further.
Groaning against his mouth, Mirana finally said the words that he’d been longing to hear for a very long time. “I love you…”
He pulled back again staring at her seriously. “You mean that?”
“Of course. I should have realized…all those years ago…that I always have.”
The smile she gave him lit up her face and his heart skipped a beat before he leaned down again and captured her mouth with his. “And I’ve never stopped loving you…even after all this time.”
“I’m glad,” she slung a leg over his hip to keep their bodies close, her hands traveling over his chest and stomach.
Bearing her back against the grass, Ilosovic deepened the embrace, desire sparking once more and taking control.
And that, of course, was when they heard a dry, amused tone. “Well, well, well…”
Both of them looked up to find Chessur perched on the branch of a nearby tree, grinning in his typical way. “It looks like while the cat was away, the mice started playing. Though you’re both rather…large for mice. That’s an interesting shade of pink you’re turning Stayne.”
“Chessur!!!” Mirana finally regained some semblance of reason and she and Ilosovic scrambled to cover themselves up as best they could. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“And haven’t you ever heard of-
“Don’t bother making some comment about knocking. There’s no door. Tarrant asked me to find the two of you and I found you. Though…what to tell him?” the cat peered at his claws. “This is quite the scandal, after all…the Queen caught in such a compromising position with the Knave who once worked for her sister.”
“Chess…don’t you dare…” Mirana warned.
“And Tarrant will have quite a vocal reaction when he finds out what the two of you were up to…however…Mirana, remember earlier when you and I were discussing your lack of a King?”
“That’s blackmail,” she gasped, though Ilosovic gazed at Chess with interest.
“What do you mean?”
“The Queen needs a King, after all…to provide heirs. Since you two already seem to be getting a head start on the latter, I see no reason you shouldn’t think of making it official.”
Slowly, Mirana looked over at Ilosovic, who stared right back at her before taking her hand gently in his. “Mirana…the disappearing cat actually makes sense.”
“He does,” she nodded, biting cutely at her lower lip. “But I don’t want to push you into something just because it was suggested.”
Smiling, her love leaned close. “Who said anything about pushing? What if this is what I’ve wanted for a long time, but I never had a chance to ask?”
Her eyes met his, and his smile grew as he took both her hands now, his gaze never leaving hers.
“Mirana of Marmoreal…love of my life,” he began, making her breath hitch and her heart beat in anticipation. “Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
For a long, nearly painful moment, she was silent, before she broke into that dazzling grin and flinging herself into his arms. “Yes. Absolutely! I want nothing more!”
Chuckling, he tilted her head and kissed her, and when they pulled away, they both looked up to thank the Cheshire only to discover him gone.
“Do you think…” Ilosovic began.
“That he did that on purpose? Yes. But forget about the evaporating, nosy cat…you just proposed to me, and I said yes. I think we should do some celebrating, and I just so happen…” she rummaged around her discarded dress and pulled out another folded kerchief. “To have made something very special for us…” she opened it to reveal another set of tarts. “Want a taste?” she held one up to him with an expression that made a pleasant shiver ease up his spine.
He leaned forward to take a bite, and from that day forth, tarts were officially his favorite dessert.
The End