I do not own the characters.
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Grasping tightly to the Bandersnatch, Alice was torn. Her thoughts oscillated going towards Mamoreal to reach the White Queen and then back with to her friends, Hatter and Mallymkun, where she left them behind at Salazam Grums.
She regretted leaving them but Hatter was very insistent. The Vorpal Sword had to be delivered to the White Queen he asserted. She disagreed. Her friends were more important than this sword. As a result, she could not help feel guilty and helpless as she held this weapon.
Before Hatter's capture, he maintained that it was imperative that the sword reach her and that he would manage as the Red Queen's Hatter. When her identity was inadvertently revealed, she was placed in a difficult position and was forced to run off leaving him in the clutches of the Red Queen's soldiers. Alice could only imagine what the Red Queen would do to him and that did not bode well with her. With a heavy heart, she continued to hold on to the lumbering, hairy beast of burden.
Rather than dwell in what she could not control, she focused on Mamoreal and the White Queen. Who is the White Queen exactly? How can she help? What is she like? However, her anxiety soon lessened, when she saw the grey-white castle ahead.
Flanked on each side of the pathway were columns of trees abloom with spring buds. The fragrance of the pale lavender blossoms permeated the air and elevated her spirits. Even Bandersnatch's gait became less jarring when it detected a change in Alice's mood as it approached the archway. After she alighted from her mount and as she walked through the courtyard, she had a sense of hope. Furthermore, she perceived a feeling of serenity with vitality within the castle.
At the foyer, Alice paused not sure on how to hold or present the ornate sword befitting of royalty. Several servants politely passed by, some holding platters with poise. At the last moment, she had an idea. With outward confidence, she walked on the soft white marble floor with the Vorpal Sword in her hands, palms facing up. Luckily, as she entered the white hall her clumsy steps were muffled out, hiding her inner awkwardness.
When she finally saw the throne, she saw her. A vision in white. Words escaped Alice to describe her any further, she wasn't a poet, but she knew what she saw. Ethereal beauty. Even before she greeted her, Alice instinctively knew who she was. She is Mirana, the White Queen of Mamoreal. A white rose.
Immediately, the White Queen stood up and greeted her, as if she was expecting her and almost with open arms.
"Welcome to Mamoreal," said the White Queen.
The White Queen's warm words beckoned her closer and her heart felt a gentle nudge as she approached her.
As a faithful messenger, she bowed and proffered the Vorpal Sword. Respectfully and not knowing how to address royalty, she merely stated this was hers. Modest, she humbly smiled as the White Queen took the weapon. With the sword in her possession, the White Queen rewarded her with a generous smile.
While the White Queen displayed the appropriate regal bearing it was her airy demeanor that put Alice further at ease, and she continued to smile warmly at her. What fascinated her were the White Queens' effortless, fluid movements. Moreover, she did not come across as a monarch however; Alice reminded herself that Mirana was a queen.
Standing still, she watched as the White Queen examined the Vorpal Sword. Noiseless, she was alone in her thoughts. When Mirana inspected the blade, she briefly closed her eyes while tracing her fingers over the white embedded gems. No doubt, these jewels signify her power. Sensing the power emanating from the sword, she let it filled her and indulged that feeling for several moments before she returned it to its rightful place.
"The Vorpal Sword is home again . . ." she announced and slowly turned to the suit of armour. "The armour is complete. . . " she continued and rested the sword on the armour's outstretched hands.
Turning back, she looked up to Alice and hinted. "Now . . . all we need is a champion."
Alice gasped inwardly at the hint that was conveyed more as a subtle request and remained silent. Did the White Queen really believe she could slay the Jabberwocky? She did not believe she could nor did she want to. This was her dream she reasoned and why should she do something against her nature. If anything, she was more inclined to rescue her friends.
Suddenly, she became very aware how much she towered over Mirana and could not hide herself. Yet, Alice could help but wanting to present a flower to her. Courteously, the White Queen studied her for a moment and then echoed her sentiments.
Good naturedly, she further hinted but discreetly. "You're a little taller than I expected."
Self-conscious, Alice tried to maintain her wits about her but she quickly recovered.
"Blame it on too much Upelkuchen," said Alice with confidence and flashed a roguish smile. Somewhat emboldened, she almost added you're not what I expected but she held back.
Her countenance turned to immense relief and smiled. "Oh . . . Come with me," said Mirana and smoothly twirled her hand toward her.
Somehow, Alice felt she had met Mirana's expectations and for some reason, she trusted her. When she happily accepted her hand, she was enthralled by Mirana's light touch and shivered inwardly from the contact. She had never experienced this tingling sensation before. She wondered if Mirana felt something as well.
Alice hoped that wherever she was going that Mirana would truly correct her false appearance to her true form. While she continued to be mesmerized by the airy connection, she let Mirana take the lead like a graceful dancer. Alice could not help but feel as if she was vaguely floating while she was being guided away.