Woke up with this idea in my head and started scribbling it out. I'm still not a hundred percent happy with it but it's only a few minor tweaks that are required. Although the last time I said that to myself I ended up reshaping the destiny of nations!
On a completely unrelated note:
I was in the library the other day and picked up
I was entranced. High Quality photos, that don't just treat the subject as a kind of "Look at the freak with his tattoos" which I've seen in other books, the obligatory Goldie paintings of course, but that's fine because he's simply one of the best artists that I've ever seen.
It covers the mythology of the art and tracks its use throughout our country giving us stories of Moko from our earliest histories up to the modern day people that get it done and the tattoo artists themselves..
I would highly recommend it to anybody that needs information about the art of Maori tattooing for whatever reason.
~An Alliance of sorts~
~One~
~An old mans passing and
what came of it.~
The old house had certainly
seen better days. Although it was well maintained the signs of fresh
repair were all around, like the owner it was part of the old world
and in constant danger of being left behind.
To walk through the dusty
halls is to travel back through time via furniture and fashions but
there is one area that is free from dust. Between the bedroom and
the mans kitchen is his study which houses all sorts of things from
the useful to the obscure. This is the old mans life now and he
labors at his desk, desperately trying to get everything done before
he feels the grim and icy grip of death.
“Honored friends” the
quill blotched under his unsteady hand and he cursed as he reached
for the blotting paper.
“You are old Father
William and you're son is no suitable replacement”
“Good evening my old foe”
Father William set aside his writings “you're awake earlier than
usual”
“I stand vigil as I must”
the head of the monster was stared fixedly at the blade which had
ended his days “but I stand by what I said, your son will not walk
easily in your footsteps”
“It won't bother me, I'll
be dead” he sighed “but you're right, he has no love for the old
ways. Were it up to him you would have been flogged off to the first
museum that would have you while I, I would while my days away simply
waiting for death to claim me”
The Jabberwocky was silent
for a time and the sound of the quill on the high quality velum was
the only sound.
“May I ask you a
question?”
“You've never needed to
ask permission before”
“You abandoned your claim
to the throne when your father died but you've never told a soul the
reason why”
“To sit in that chair is
to invite the ire of the queens. Especially during the recent Alice
Wars. Better for all concerned that I stepped down quietly and
married for love rather than political points”
“But now Queen Alice sits
on your throne, you think she would approve?”
“Stop fishing. I've never
met the queen as well you know”
“I've met one or two in my
time”
“Queens?”
“Alices, or possibly
Alicii. They'll generally show up when the need is great and the
peril most dire.
“You've never mentioned
this before”
“It's not a tale that I
like to tell you shorter lived creatures”
“Shorter lived? I'm
almost Eighty!”
“I was five centuries
before I discovered you in my forest” the head noted dryly “I
surely would have seen many more if you hadn't been so quick with the
evil snickersnee”
“It's the Vorpal Blade as
I have mentioned before”
“The vagaries of two
different languages” the monster dismissed it as insignificance.
To my people in their craggy homes it was always the evil
snickersnee. A thing to flee rather than burble blindly towards.
For many long and happy centuries the blade was lost and our domain
stretched from one end of the Wonder to the other. But we became
complacent and in our laxness the great depravity began. That was
the beginning of our undoing mortal man. For when the mad blade
reappeared it was wielded by the Alice, whom we also called the
destroyer, in our chronicles”
“I've never heard of this
before”
“Hardly my fault. The
last I heard the white queens knights had locked our tomes away for
reasons I'm sure were of great import. The destroyer appeared and
disappeared mysteriously when our domination of the Underland was
broken. There were those who claimed one of us had killed her but
none that I knew ever attempted to take credit for the deed”
“She may have seen her end
coming” suggested the old man “and attempted to run from destiny”
“Perhaps. All I knew was
that it was safe to venture our again but I was ever loath to step
out of my Tulgy Wood. That she had gone was a fact but who now
wielded that most evil blade? Thus I claimed the wood as my own and
stayed there happily intact until such time as a young prince saw fit
to render me otherwise in the shade of the TumTum tree”
“Jabberwocky” the old
man said suddenly “do you have a name? I've never thought to ask”
“It is as the ode has it.
Manxome, or that's the best translation that you could pronounce”
“Manxome” the old man
clutched at his chest and collapsed to the floor as the ancient death
curse was finally brought forth.
“Technically you should
have rolled the x a little more” the head noted rather dryly “but
it hardly matters now”
~Two~
~A Fathers funeral and a Mothers lament~
Old
father William, known to many as the Noprince, was buried with all
the honors that befitted a fallen royal. This was gossip to be
savored for the red and white queens had both decided upon a simple
quiet ceremony but Young Queen Alice who had been surprised to learn
that she had been named as his beholden, much to the private anguish
of his son who had received a small windmill and a cat that would
neither grin nor furnish him with anything more rewarding than the
occasional dead mouse. had insisted upon the proper funeral of state.
So it
was that his body was paraded through the streets upon the rather
shaky shoulders of the queens knights who were, in turn, carried upon
the broad shoulders of some rather hastily appointed squires. In his
hands he clasped the Vorpal sword , that blade still dirty with the
dread blood of the monster, for even now it remained so sharp that
none could clean it without it drinking of their blood.
The
long dead head of the Jabberwocky was carried behind by the queens
own pageboy and in respectful silence the three remaining queens of
Wonderland walked with measured steps.
Behind
them also marched Cardsmen and Chessmen alike, shoulder to shoulder
in grim solidarity and none who allowed emotion free reign were
mocked on this the saddest day.
The red queen as once such,
it was long whispered that they had been lovers once, but nobody was
ever foolhardy enough to ask outright. In marked contrast the white
queens face was dry as an ivory figure, lending truth to the belief
that she'd traded away her tears along ago. At her side a small
pagepawn, wept into the queens heavy shawl.
The
night was heavy with the anticipation of rain; indeed a few drops had
already fallen on the lone guards good tunic But he ignored any bad
weather and remained at his post proud to serve both the queen and
the old traditions of the land.
“Guard”
a woman called from the dark of the hedge maze “there was a death
here was there not?”
“A
funeral ma'am” the guard answered respectfully “it was father
William, he who slew the Jabberwocky and gave up his throne to follow
his heart”
“Did
he now?” the owner of the voice stretched her head into the light
in order to better see the mausoleum and for a brief moment her eyes
blazed all aflame in the light of the guards fire “I'm sure I would
have like to see that”
A
claw, as long as he was tall prodded the guard in the chest. “fetch
me my son will you not?”
No
journey was ever longer as he descended those terrible stairs. As
was proper he sank to his knee in front of the sarcophagus that
housed the single occupant and then his gaze drifted to the famous
sword.
“I
wouldn't do that were I you. To take up that blade is a hard choice
and if you don't know how to wield it then it would only make her
mad”
“You're alive!” he tripped over the bottom stairs and stared up at the Jabberwocky who smiled down from his self”
“You're alive!” he tripped over the bottom stairs and stared up at the Jabberwocky who smiled down from his self”
“No”
the head said calmly “Not yet. But this isn't the right place to
start talking resurrection, someone might hear you. Bring me out to
our most noble of visitors and take that sword with you”
“I
thought I wasn't to touch it”
“There's
a world of difference between carrying it and wielding it. I've not
stood sentry over the cursed thing to abandon my post now”
“Proud Matriwocky” the
guard announced at the quiet prompting of the head “I present to
you your lover, such as he is”
“This isn't my lover”
the Matriwock loomed over them both “born of the earth like this he
is now my son” With surpassing skill and tenderness the head of
Manxome was plucked from the platter and hidden under her wing
“I trust that the funeral
was pleasant at least?”
“One of the better ones
mother. Two queens and the current Alice turned out”
“Guard!”
“Yes?”
“When they find this mess
in the morning you will be summoned to the royal courts of
Wonderland. What think you of your chances?”
The guard shook his head,
I've no chance at all though my Queen Alice will speak up for me I am
certain her voice will be lost by those who shout that I have failed
utterly in my duties”
“Then
present the blade of the destroyer. For I have a use for you and at
last a use for it”
Gossip
flew through Wonderland at breakneck speed pausing only to pick up
the bits of half truth and outright lie that it lived on. In the
wake of this strange bird a new story was left, the mausoleum of
Father William had been desecrated and the Vorpal blade, the head of
the monster and the guard had all vanished into the night.
Though
great were the rewards offered none were collected upon for in truth
the guard had quite vanished from the sight of any in Wonderland.
~Three~
~A Queens awakening and a Queens proposal~
Twas breaking early in the
morn when the young queen was awakened by a loud clattering of armor
and much shouting, paying no head to the comfort of her toves who had
curled up next to her and gyred in their alarm.
“What is the meaning of
this?” she demanded, throwing open the wide doors “some queens
round here are trying to sleep”
“An intruder your
highness” her youngest knight staggered under the weight of his
armor which, if the gossips were to be believed, he slept in each
night in case of a sudden need “we would have tied him securely
with rope but we had none and were thus forced to, improvise”
“I see” Queen Alice
looked down at the face of her missing guard bound rather
uncomfortably with a string of sausages “you have some explaining
to do I think”
“I do your majesty” the
guard bowed his head in acceptance of her judgment
“No explanations!”
barked an crimson soldier with his sword already half drawn “where
is the vorpal blade? And the monsters head! Tell me lackwit and I'll make
your end quick”
“Put away your blade sir
knight. My wayward guard shall be my breakfast guest and there he
will entertain us with his story”
The knight visibly hesitated
and then released his sword to bow before the queen “I would beg
your forgiveness my queen. For my passion for justice quite overtook
me. It is a common failing in the forces of the red knights”
“No forgiveness is
necessary sir knight. I would rather a knight of passion than an
unfeeling codfish”
It might have been the
strangest breakfast ever held were this not Wonderland. Better then
to say that it was the strangest breakfast held that morning which was
attended by a queen. For so many of her court had heard of the
return of the guard that they had descended upon her in heavy flocks
in order to hear the guards story. In the end the queen gave the
order that this would be a picnic held on the wabe of the big hill.
“Now pray tell us your
story” the queen requested after everyone had gotten comfortable
and she had passed on the suspiciously familiar sausages.
The guard attempted to get
to his feet but the queens own Tove, who was comfortably draped in
his lap, was unwilling to move and so he remained seated “I abandoned my post good queen and
took with I the many named blade”
“and the head. We know
this, the question is why did you do it? And why is it that you
returned to me?”
“Upon my honor it was at
the command of Quinalyce of the Wock” from his pack he drew forth a
travel worn length of scroll fastened with ornate clasps “good
Queen Alice. I bring you her words and ask you to read them before
permitting me to continue on with my story”
“Hail Queen Alice” her
page read aloud and clearly, “ruler and rightful queen of
Underland, Wonderland and all it's right and proper holdings. I
greet you in the spirit of friendship and the sharing of names for I
am Qunialyce, ruler and rightful queen of Underland, Wonderland and
all it's right and proper holdings. Indeed the only true difference
between us is that you have not yet been blessed with royal progeny
whereas I am a Matriwock of Matriwocks
I am informed by my son, he
who gave his life to watch over the most evil snickersnee, known to
you perhaps by the crude name of Vorpal Blade, or even Jabberwockies
Bane although you might appreciate the irony of this rather vulgar
title.
Regardless of the name of
the evil tool I admit that I have stolen it along with your guard and
my son. One of these I return to you but I shall hold onto the
destroyers blade for safekeeping. Should there ever come a time of
utter frumiousness then you have but to ask and I shall relinquish my
claim upon the blade.
Do not punish your guard for
deserting his post for in truth he had no choice in the matter, just
as he had no choice when I pressed him into his current role as
ambassador to your court.
But I
confess that it is clearly in my best interests to keep a tight hold
of such a valuable and dangerous weapon and I am reliably informed by
the latest flight of gossips that while the Queen of hearts has her
guards of cards and the other two have their pawns and knights you
have neither save for what they have given you”
Queen
Alice gazed casually around the wabe where her own court was sat,
awaiting the rest of the letter and saw that it was true. Many of
her courtiers were nothing more than bores and idlers farmed out to
her by the red and white queens under the guise of them being the
voices of experience.
“But
now to the true purpose of this missive which is to warn you of the
machinations of the pair of queens that proclaim you their equal with
one voice and plot against you with another. I have seen this game
play out before Queen Alice and it does not end well for you.
Already the queens flood your lands with those loyal to them alone.
It is quiet and the most subtle of invasions.
It
will not be long before things begin to go wrong, indeed it may
already have begun but they will not have been brought to your
attention as they are only little things and well beneath the notice
of a queen such as yourself. But each problem will stand on the
shoulders of another and, in order to assist you in your time of
hardship the queens shall move their own people into positions of
power. After which it is only a matter of time and politics before
your true position is known to all, not that of a queen but merely a
pawn who was permitted to dream.
However,
this day I am requested by your guard to foil their schemes and to
that end I offer you the gift of alliance between our two peoples.
Such a thing could only ever bear sweet since it would give you
access to the flights of Wock similar to the Royal Burblers who have
accompanied your guard and my ambassador and allow you to stand
against the plans of the queens on an even footing at last”
Her
page stopped at the queens signal “The Royal Burblers?”
“I
left them camped in the Tulgy wood your Queeness. For to arrive at
the head of a combat wing of Wock would only be asking for more trouble”
“I
see” she said thoughtfully and the young page returned to his duty.
“In
return I ask only that you allow the Wock access to the Tulgy Wood ,
where once we did burble happily in the leafy confines and would do
so once again.
Agree
to this and we shall be sister queens that stand firm against the
designs of red and white alike!
Yours
in Royalty
Quinalyce
of the Wingsrest Aerie.”
The
signature was a complex design, carefully burnt rather than written
into the parchment. It took up the rest of the scroll save for a
small footnote
“PS:
I am informed that this would technically make you an Auntywocky.
Ahem”
“My
queen?” the guard asked while page struggled to roll the ornate
scroll neatly away and the court buzzed with the revelation of the
Matriwocks proposal “Quinalyce gave me this ring for you. It
signals acceptance of the alliance”
The
court leaned forward as one to see the heavy ring and she noted those
who were not schooled in keeping their interests hidden, that there
were more than she liked decided the issue.
“I
do not believe I need to hear the rest of your tale at this moment
Guard” the ring made a talon of her little finger “For deserting
your post I punish you with the title of ambassador. Return to the
Matriwocky and inform her that our two shall indeed become one.
Further I should like to meet her in the Tulgy Wood where we might
discuss matters in privacy.
The
queen stood, her own Tove regally covered her shoulders.
“This court is closed for the day. Those of you who serve two
queens are given until this time to decide which of us you truly
serve"
 |
| Remainder of letter received by Good Queen Alice. Signature of Quinalyce of Wingsrest Aerie which accompanied what was known in later years as "The Breakfast Pact" It,along with many other treasures of Wonderland, is on display at the Royal Museum. The rest of the letter has been unfortunately lost to negligence and flame. |
Love this!
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