Porcelain Queens

Chapter Two

The windstorm had almost come to a complete halt; a dozen items of clothing and linen glided elegantly downwards, while others collapsed with a shockingly tremendous thud. The thunderous breeze had faded into an eerie whistle, and after a hearty meal of jam and bread- a meal which Killian spent most of his time going from mistrustfully eyeing the still very animated dolls to trying and failing to ignore them- he and Alice sat at their chess table for tea and biscuits. Alice was closer to getting back to her exuberant self. It filled his heart, watching her beam with enthusiasm, though he did worry she might be masking her true feelings. The dolls had been courteous enough to refill the pale of water, but he didn't dare speculate on where they came upon it. It tasted water-y enough in all fairness.

"I'm sorry, Papa. Don't know what happened. I didn't see-"

"It's okay, love. You knew this tower was capable of this sort of magic as much as I was. But how about we avoid staging any mutinies for a while? At least until I've found a solution to our doll problem. Aye?" Killian made a fleeting gesture towards the very irritated-looking dolls and Alice's cheeks flushed scarlet.

"No more mutinies," she chuckled.

"I'll toast to that." They held their tea cups at arm's length and clinked them together.

In the silence, Killian couldn't help pondering over whether the source of the calamity was truly Gothel's enchantments. What if somehow, this was a manifestation of Alice's magic? But Alice was no witch- how could she be? Nearly all the mages he'd encountered were malevolent and ruthless- not unlike himself in his prime. But not his Alice. He loathed the way the very notion made his blood run cold. Shared physical characteristics were one thing, but inherited magic from that witch was a foreboding prospect unto itself. He'd love her unconditionally either way, and he trusted she'd never follow in the Witch's footsteps but he wasn't mentally equipped to confront the idea of it just yet. Killian discarded the thought and convinced himself he was being ridiculous. All this was the product of a vengeful sorceress' wrath and nothing more; likely the work of the same bewitchments that had spawned an abundance of essential sustenance all these years, albeit not always when they needed it. But then, why would the Witch be so magnanimous? Surely, she was incapable of such an altruistic act. Of course, the more chilling alternative was that she wasn't being charitable at all. Somewhere in his soul he knew it was possible that the Witch needed Alice alive for whatever cruel, sadistic plot she'd been surreptitiously crafting. Any moment, she could announce she's discovered a solution to freeing the tower's prisoner, only to rip his beloved child from his arms and drag her away kicking and screaming, all whilst she kept him bound with chains of vine and he'd be forced to look on, utterly powerless to save his little girl, just as it had been when that vindictive Crocodile took Milah's life. Or what if by some improbable coincidence, Alice did possess magical abilities, wanted to hone them and suddenly she didn't need her Papa anymore, so she turned to Gothel who'd use her cunning to poison her mind against him? Or worse she could...... He couldn't allow himself to finish that train of thought. It was too unthinkable, far too horrifying to ever entertain. He'd give his own life a thousand times over, and infinitely more before he allowed any of that to happen. He had to stop giving way to these torturous thoughts but he just never felt Alice could truly be out of peril so long as this godsforsaken bird's cage belonged to the sorceress. And still the tormenting ideas clawed their way into his nightmares and haunted him restless night after restless night.

He was beckoned back to the present when he realized Alice's smile had faded. Whispers from the ghosts of their argument were no doubt the reason for her now melancholy expression. But again, deep down he knew the scars ran a lot deeper than what was on the surface.

"You alright there, lass?"

Alice nodded unconvincingly.

"How about a game of chess. Let's see if I can beat you this time around, shall we?"