The Merciful

Pleased to have dropped the question of her loyalty, she folded her hands neatly in her lap. “Hmm. Perhaps you’re right. Pink is more my color, isn’t it?” Cilla grinned, plucking her short pale pink sleeve that fluttered in the breeze. She wouldn’t say that crimson was his color, though. She wasn’t entirely convinced that he belonged to that color at all. “Precisely.” Cilla was surprised to find herself agreeing with the knight. “Besides, I’d rather help others who’re being hurt than worry about whatever big bad beastie wants to pester me.”

“And that would be the case.” She said crisply. She’d have to be mental to say otherwise. “Are you certain?” Cilla teased. “ I think the color would bring out your eyes. Everyone would be swooning for the handsome knight in pink with the pretty eyes.” She pretended to swoon, resting the back of her hand against her forehead as she giggled. Cilla partly did it for her own amusement, but she also was trying to diffuse the situation slightly- she couldn’t be on the radar of potential traitors. “It isn’t a matter of allowing someone to hurt me. That would be foolish.” She shook her head. “Sometimes people are determined to hurt you, regardless of whether or not your defenses are up.”

          “i know!” she hissed, somehow high-pitched in her           panicked whisper. a glance around to see if anyone           had overheard them, and then a lower, calmer whisper.           “i know it’s treason.” her eyes did what she would           otherwise not: they begged him. “don’t repeat this           anywhere, lucien.” tamar sent a slow, careful look that           promised a slow, careful destruction if he ever loosened           his tongue too much. she too-casually shoved another           forkful of mashed potatoes into her mouth, before finding           her appetite gone. collecting her plate, she mumbled,            “see you in the training ring,” around half a mouthful of           food. she left him sitting there, hoping the training ring           was further away than tomorrow.

“I suppose it’s better to be known as merciful in these times than a rebel. The Rabbit’s Rebel probably isn’t the safest title in these times but it’s infinitely better than being the pink rabbit. Note- if you’re a were-anything, don’t dye your hair.” A tight smile fixed itself upon her lips. He almost definitely suspected her. Wonderful. “You have a point. I think the goal is to figure out what someone is hiding before they can hurt you with it.”

“That isn’t a bad reputation to have.” She laughed, shaking her head. “From me, that’s a compliment. I like to think of myself as a fairly good judge of character. I wouldn’t waste time talking to someone I didn’t think was decent,” Unless, of course, a wicked person was the key to obtaining some sort of information. Then she would talk their ear off until they gave her something. 

“Risky, but appears to be working in my favor.” She said, raising an eyebrow. She thought about his statement for a moment. He was right. She saw no honor in working for the Crimson King. If anything, it was dishonorable. And yet… “I see honor in protecting the innocent.” She said slowly. “Letting that child go showed me you understand that much. Most others wouldn’t have given arresting them a second thought.” Cilla nodded with a little laugh. “Fair enough. Though I don’t imagine I’ll find myself talking with many other Knights. You seem to be the exception to the rule.”

Cilla shrugged. “Probably because I am the tiniest bit tipsy and I’m less afraid than I should be that you’ll slap cuffs on me for interrogating you right now.” She replied frankly. “The good soldier,” She sighed, nodding slowly. “Doing what you believe to be what’s best for the people. At least there’s a sense of honor in that.” She trailed a finger absentmindedly through the water, watching as it rippled beneath her touch. “And it’s an expletive. ‘Bloody,’” She said, trying to play off her statement as a turn of phrase. “And more about Wonderland’s history than anything.” That part was a lie. The present was no better than the past. 

Cilla pouted. That was an opportunity gone. “Then secrets they will stay.” She said, pretending to lock her lips and throw the key into a nearby fountain. She looked at the knight a moment, intrigued. She wouldn’t get anything huge out of him, but perhaps she could get a few interesting bits of information. “So, did you choose to become a knight?” She asked, sitting herself down on the edge of the fountain. “Or was it expected of you?”

“Green,” She echoed smiling. “A nice choice. It suits you.” She liked this game very much now. “Well, I don’t know.” She said coquettishly. Her impish nature had come out to play- she wanted to see just how far she could push her luck. “And nor shall you unless you promise never to tell a soul.”

Cilla saw a glimmer of something there. Maybe just a speck of hope that she could flip the script back on him. “And what makes you the exception?” She asked, feeling a little bolder. “Is crimson not your favorite color after all?” She teased, with the barest hint of accusation laced into her playful tone. The closest ears seemed to be well out of eavesdropping distance. Still, she lowered her voice slightly. “You know, we can play this game. I promise to keep your secrets if you promise to keep mine.”

A name. Of course, he wanted a name. “Um,” She drew the sound out for a few seconds, trying to think of something. “And why do I need to give a name?” She asked. Try as she might, the fear in her eyes was palpable. “It isn’t you, is that what you wanted to hear?” Though now she wished she’d managed to avoid him as well.

Cilla’s heart damn near stopped in her chest. So this was how it ended- her stupidly saying something and a crimson knight drawing all the conclusions and coming up with the answer that she was, in fact, a rebel. “Now why would you say something like that?” She asked, her throat dry. She plucked at the fabric of her corset, this new added stress not helping her in the slightest. “This is Wonderland. There are loads of flamboyant and fantastical sorts.”

She froze. So he had heard that bit. A nervous laugh bubbled up out of her throat. “Oh, you know,” Cilla began, frantically looking for a way to explain herself without getting cuffs slapped around her wrists. “All the past monarchs of Wonderland. So much chaos and bloodshed. My family- my father at least, has seen a lot of it. We don’t have very many pleasant memories regarding this place.” She fiddled with the end of her braid, hoping that would save her ass. “It was inevitable. I was bound to see them one way or the other. And they certainly like to make a show of it so it would have been impossible not to see them.”

   Ever was of the firm belief that sometimes — and perhaps ONLY sometimes — we need to treat others as we wish to be treated. She didn’t want anyone on the guard staff tonight to feel slighted or put upon, because in the end she wanted them to be willing to die for their King, if necessary. Beneath all that was definitely a thread of a girl who was once a little sister and just… generally tended to dote, however begrudgingly, on those around her.

   She might not be all cinnamon and sugar and candy coated nuts, but she wasn’t as awful as she led most people to believe. That being said, that reputation was likely what kept her — and to some small degree, Gideon — safe in the end of things, so the smile she wore seemed to not quite reach her eyes, but was still kind nonetheless.

   “I figured you’d had to be hungry, and posted this close to a table of food at this time? Feel free to have a bit… if you get in trouble, I will handle it, I promise.” Ever offered, and to be true there were likely few people in the palace who could talk someone out of trouble to Gideon. She didn’t abuse that power, mind you, and often let others face the consequences of their own actions… but she had encouraged this one, and given her word that she’d help if it came up.

   … her word was her bond, after all.

He had heard the stories before now. She was a child the King had taken pity on when she was younger. It was that which made him wonder if she had any idea about what went on outside of the palace. About the people who had come running into the Fevered Forest, looking for safety because the rest of Wonderland was too dangerous. He’d lived in the palace long enough to know how cut off it was from the rest, or that was how it felt anyway.

But ask, show any signs of being disloyal and everything would be thrown into question. He would just smile, bow to the King, and hope no one noticed that he was always a little bit attentive. Always making sure he heard things that most of the other Knights wouldn’t have cared about. 

Musetta grinned. First passing her entanglement off as a result of her drunkenness, then remaining cool even as she figuratively spat on him, and then just blatantly admitting his fellow guard was stupid? This man was full of surprises. That, and… it revealed a weakness. The land-walking king’s knights are not as nearly united as they should be, if one of their own was willing to admit that their fellows-in-arms were a bunch of idiots. 

That, and he just used magic, which was against the law. Clearly he has some secrets.

“All right,” she said, pretending to acquiesce to his demands. The authorities in the Sea of Song often didn’t need to have a point. Sometimes they’d just arrest Musetta arbitrarily, and then keep those arrests a secret. 

“Not gonna lie, I have a million questions about you now,” Musetta said. “Not that I think you’d answer them, but I figured you deserve a rare moment of honesty from me.”

“On another note,” she mused as she felt the vines loosen. “This party sucks.” With that, she stood up, brushed out the wrinkles of her dress, and started her way past him. Part of her wanted to see if he’d follow her, yet another hoped that he left her alone. Mostly, she just wanted to see what would happen.

It was a risky move, and he knew that. But then who was more likely to be believed? A knight who had shown nothing but loyalty, or her? He could simply deny it all later, and stick with his argument that she had been drunk and must have misunderstood the situation. 

Finally though, he managed to get some sort of satisfactory answer. He knew anything further then that would just be his annoyance, and that went against who he was. He let the vine die, wilt away into little more then dirt. Much as he hated doing that, it hid all evidence anything had been wrong. 

“What questions? I’m just doing my job, same as any other knight here” he replied. Though he wasn’t the same as any other knight, but that was something only a very select few needed to know, and she wasn’t on that list.

The cool of the evening on her skin helped her to focus on breathing. She was far enough away from the Crimson King, but the events of the evening had her mind running in circles over a hundred little things. “Chess, and dancing, and bloody crowns.” She said under her breath without much thinking about the words. She tensed, realizing the last expression she used. Hopefully, he hadn’t heard. “I just… erm… I just ran into someone I’d hoped not to see.” And that someone just happened to be the person in charge. 

“What the shit?!” Musetta yelled at the other guard. “No I didn’t. Come back here!“ When it seemed like the other guard completely ignored her – what a surprise that he took his companion’s side on this – Musetta hissed ‘bastard’ under her breath, giving the vines yet another tug. Did that idiot actually believe Musetta got her hands tangled in the vines for no reason? Probably not. The guards were probably just buddy-buddy, and after one guard saw that it was another guard who did the magic using, he probably just hand-waved it off. 

Bastards.

Still, Musetta could derive a bit of satisfaction from getting to the guy, who was showing a surprising amount of restraint. 

“What’s your deal, man?” she asked. “Is that your buddy? Is he stupid enough to believe you, or do you two have some sort of we-don’t-tattle-on-each-other kinda deal? Pfft.” She leaned back against the rail of the balcony and let her arms relax. Unbelievable. She tells one joke and he takes her seriously enough to think that this is okay. Though, she had to admit, he was a lot more even-tempered than the guys back in the Sea of Song. Perhaps that was his secret to being a tougher nut to crack.

The Sea of Song guards should be taking notes, she thought.

“He’s stupid” he replied with a shrug. That and with the amount of alcohol most of them had been drinking, he didn’t really think that he had too much to worry about from any of the others. They weren’t looking to work, they were just looking to have a good time. How strange that he was the only sober one there right now, and he was the only one not actually loyal to the King, despite what everyone might believe.