In Obscurum (9/9), an Alice in Wonderland fic
Hightopp paced around his cell, just as he had everyday since his imprisonment. For months he had let his bitterness fester at the idea that the girl and that pathetic hatter had managed to capture him.
There was no way for him to escape the tiny confines of the cell. He had looked over the ten by ten foot area, learning everything about it.
11,068 bricks, 568 cracked, 276 chipped.
87 iron bars, all of them covered in mildew and rust.
Four locks, each a shape of the territories of Otherland: Heart, Club, Spade and Diamond.
One bed, one loo, one blanket and an seemingly out of place tea table and an off-kilter chair.
Everyday was exactly the same. He woke up as the sun--that vile, bright orb from Above--showed its light through the small hole near the top of the wall. He paced around the cell, testing the bars in case somehow one of them became loose in the night, until midday came. Then he was given his daily meal: three tarts, one pot of tea and folded napkin and a change of clothes. The red guard would slide his food wordlessly in his cell and walk away, returning in the afternoon to collect the tray and his old clothing. Then Hightopp returned to his pacing until the darkness of the cell lured him to sleep.
As the sound of a tray sliding across the stone floor caught Hightopp’s attention, he knew that today was no different.
Then again…
He walked over to the plate of food and noticed, much to his surprise, that sitting next to his customary tarts was a bottle of Pishsalver.
He looked up at the guard who nodded slightly. “She’s waiting for you.” Then the card walked away.
Without waiting a moment, Hightopp took a swig of the bitter liquid. Seconds later, his body shrunk so small, he was easily able to walk through the iron bars that had held him captive for the past several months.
Quickly, he ran down the long hallway where he found a piece of Upelkuchen waiting for him. Hightopp greedily bit off a piece of the growth-inducing cake. Once he was the proper size, he opened the door.
There she was.
Her lips were curled in a snarl, revealing a sliver of her yellowed, crooked teeth. Her hair was frizzled and unkempt, barely allowing the dented and deformed crown to rest on her head. Her eyes, wild and crazy, darted around the room.
She looked more dangerous--more feral--than the last time her had seen her. But he had no intention of letting her, Mirana’s greatest and most terrifying success, know how much he feared her.
“So you finally decided to show up, eh, Kingsleigh?”
Without warning, she reached forward and grabbed a handful of his merlot colored shirt. She pulled him so his ear was centimeters from her lips. “You owe me, Hightopp.” She released his shirt and pushed him away, causing him to nearly stumble on the ground. “Do not forget that.”
He sighed. She had been responsible for his escape and he hated being in debt to anyone.
“What would you have me do, my queen?"