Into the Woods

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At half past midnight, the tavern finally began to clear. Several patrons wobbled out the door, and what stragglers were left behind were so far into their cups that they barely recognized when they were being gently shuffled out by Arris and Mae. A few protested, but in the end, the tavern was devoid of all visitors, save those who were meeting in secret.

When all was clear, the Hatter finally emerged. Lilas swept past him and went straight to the bar behind the counter and helped herself to a tot of some amber liquid. He remained at the foot of the staircase and, unbeknownst to Alice, stared darkly across the room where she and Allander remained alone.

It wasn’t that he was plying her with drink, the rakish, blond woodsman had reasoned, as it was more not encouraging her to stop. Alice slammed an empty flagon down on the table.

“Yeh’ll be a pro in no time,” he smiled, shaking his head.

She licked her lips, blearily smiling back at him and nodded. Her new friend reached across and brushed a lock of honey-golden hair from her eyes, and Alice giggled.

“Mind of its own,” she said trying to look up at her unruly bangs.

“A lot of thin’s have tha’,” he agreed solemnly.

An irritated voice replied from behind them. “Such as?”

Alice’s head snapped up and her jaw faintly dropped. A double-image of the Hatter glaring down at her swam before her eyes and she tried to blink it into submission.

“Well, look who decided ta join tha fun!” Allander called good-naturedly. He twisted around to find Lilas pouring another shot of amber liquid into a small glass. “Ah, we’re all together at last.”

Alice, the Hatter, and Lilas all reacted to his statement with varying levels of displeasure.

Sensing tension, Mae quickly interjected. “Let’s ge’ down to it, shall we? Everyone’s gone wha’ needn’t be here.”

Hightopp hastily dropped into the chair nearest Alice, casting an inauspicious glance to the woodsmen on her other side. Arris joined his brother; Mae just happened to nab the seat beside him, and Lilas elegantly sat down in the open chair beside the Hatter. The bottle she’d brought clinked loudly on the table.

Alice was desperately trying to fight off the lingering haze of alcohol muddling her senses, but, to her tipsied mind, it appeared as if the buxom brunette and Tarr – Hatter – were avoiding each other’s gaze. Whether that was good or bad though she hadn’t quite figured out.

Shortly after all were seated, the tiniest whoosh whispered across the back of Alice’s neck, and Mae gave a soft cry of surprise.

“Hello, everyone.” A giant smile filled with sharp, pearly teeth faded into view. This was followed by a set of large, turquoise cat eyes, and then an even larger, banded Cat.

“What in Underland?” Mae shouted, preparing to battle some errant creature from her tavern.

“Chess!” Alice said happily and attempted to hug him at her shoulder.

The Hatter stayed Mae with his hands. “He’s friend.”

The Cheshire Cat had the grace to appear abashed, and he humbly bowed to the lady he had frightened. “My apologies, but I felt it prudent to remain hidden while there were others around.” He turned his grin on Alice. “Hello, my dear.”

She smiled happily first at him, then to everyone else simply because.

Arris realized he’d placed his hand on Mae’s without thinking, and he quickly removed it with the faintest of blushes.

“So,” Allander began, “why’ve yeh called us t’gether, Hightopp?”

Alice swung her heavy head towards their unlikely leader. His eyes were yellow. She slipped a little further in her seat.

“As yeh can see, our Champion,” he sighed, and threw a nasty glare at the eldest Longbow, “has returned ta Underlan’. An’ I think I can speak for all when I say tha’ traitor Stayne has worn ou’ his welcome.”

Everyone at the table nodded.

“To be fair,” Lilas casually added, “she’s Marmoreal’s Champion.”

Mae groaned under her breath, and the Hatter stiffly turned towards her.

She quickly went on. “I accept her of course, but I can understan’ how many Outlanders will feel when they’re told ta follow her an’ tha White Queen. It won’t be easy.”

“Granted.” Tarrant said tersely. “To tha’ point. It’s time nauw ta rally our friends an’ allies. The White Army will arrive in sections beginnin’ th’morrow, an’ we’ll need ta be ready.”

Allander and Arris looked at each other. Mae quietly twisted her towel in her hands, and Lilas continued running a finger over the rim of her empty glass.

Alice’s mind wasn’t clearing as quickly as she would have liked. She gazed at each face around the table and tried to follow as best she could.

“What is yehr plan?” Arris asked.

The Hatter then went into detail on what he and Alice had discussed previously. Each member present was tasked with going to their respective clans and neighbours and encouraging them to join with Marmoreal against the Red Loyalists while they had time. Chess would be dispatched to Mirana’s army and would alert them when they were ready, and with the help of Tarrant’s map of enemy camps, they would begin flushing Stayne and the Loyalists out of their hiding places.

They were to all meet up tomorrow evening with news, along with emissaries from Mirana’s army.

“Is it enough time?” Arris asked. A few others nodded.

Hightopp’s eyes flickered darkly for a moment and his expression turned grave. “It will have ta be. The less time we take, the less chance we’ll have ta fin’ trouble.”

Alice nodded, very much wanting to contribute to the conversation. She cast a sidelong glance at the wretched Outlandish whisky. ‘Some Champion I am,’ she thought morosely and went back to watching everyone quietly.

Mae was staring off to the bar, and Lilas’ brows were furrowed in concentration.

“There are too many ways this could go wrong,” Thistle murmured after a beat. Allander nodded in agreement.

Hightopp schooled his expression and waited for her to go on. Alice was about to interject but quieted when she felt his hand close down gently on her arm under the table.

“How do we know those we go to aren’t wi’ Stayne nauw?”

“Aye,” Allander said. “I grant tha’ we need more support, but this is a risky game ta play, Hightopp. White Army or no. Stayne fights dirty.”

The Hatter removed his hand. “An’ wha’ would yeh have us do? Cower like a slurvish pack of beaten dogs? For months nauw we’ve been slowly persuadin’ others ta see tha folly of keepin’ silent. We have to act now while the element of Surprise is on our side.”

Alice hid a smile as his eyes melted into a vibrant green, and his lisp returned for only a moment. Chess purred softly at her side. Given his loathsome opinion on politics he was simply here as a messenger and not a contributor.

Everyone sat in a contemplative silence as each weighed their options.

Alice watched the Hatter out of the corner of her sleepy eyes. He was glancing at each in turn, and when a question seemed to ghost across his face, she followed his line of sight. Arris fidgeted in his seat and hesitantly spoke.

“There’s somethin’ else. I feel it should be brough’ up.”

Allander snuck a quick glance at his brother.

“There’s been another killin’.”

The Hatter’s magnificent eyebrows rose. “When?”

“Jus’ this evenin’.”

Lilas shifted in her chair and frowned.

“I was comin’ back from tendin’; after yeh’d left.”

“Go on,” Hightopp said, leaning forward. Arris was usually an eloquent, composed sort of person. His unease was something to regard with concern.

“Bronwen Hawthorne ran a blade through her husband before turnin’ it on herself.”

Everyone at the table gasped; Mae’s hands flew to her lips. Alice looked around, alarmed.

“How did you hear this?” Tarrant lisped.

Allander spoke up this time. “Halford Whittle stopped ’im in a mad tiz on tha way home.”

“Why?” Mae asked, breathless. She’d known the Hawthorne’s for years and to her mind Bronwen could never do such a thing. She dabbed at a stray tear that slipped down her cheek.

“Whittle had jus’ stopped by. Says he saw tha whole thin’. He mentioned,” Arris paused and closed his eyes. “He swore he saw tha Walkin’ Death in her.”

Allander flinched, Lilas spat on the floor, and Mae turned white. The Hatter stared.

“Don’ say such a thin’, yeh know that’s old wives’ tales ‘nehow,” Mae said fiercely, hands clutching her chest in shock.

The Hatter’s eyes shadowed again and he shook his head. “Yehr no’tha firs’ ta mention such thin’s.”

Everyone gawked at this admission. Alice was thoroughly confused but remained quiet.

Minutes went by and no one said anything. Lilas stared determinedly at a spot on the table, and Mae took her glass.

“I need a drink,” Mae said shortly and uncorked the bottle her sister had brought.

Arris held his glass out to be filled next, and Allander finished off his second mug of spinolker.

The elder Longbow reached for Alice’s hand in an attempt to diffuse the sullen mood hanging over the group. He placed the glass in her palm and dangled the travelling bottle over its mouth. “Fancy one more dram, Champion?”

The Hatter stiffened beside her. “I must obj–”

“If you can answer this riddle, I will.”

At this everyone looked up with intrigue. The Hatter closed his mouth and watched Alice carefully.

She cleared her throat,

“What does man love more than life?
Fear more than death or mortal strife?
What do the poor have, what the rich require,
And what contented men desire?
What does the miser spend, the spendthrift save,
And all men carry to their graves?”

The woodsman cocked his head and peered at her curiously.

At her side, the Hatter grinned, bemused, and murmured, “Clever Alice.”

Allander, Arris and Mae all settled deep into contemplation; Lilas studied her glass and appeared bored.

No one had yet answered, and as the seconds wore on, Alice felt rather proud of herself.

A clock struck two in a distant room, and Mae jolted with a start.

The eldest Longbow finally threw up his hands. “If yeh don’ want a drink, tha’s fine by me.”

“What is the answer?” Arris asked, genuinely curious.

Alice smiled around at them, but it was the Hatter who answered. “Nothing.”

Allander laughed, and Mae stretched in her seat. The evening had come to an end.

“I’d say it’s time ta be abed, wouldn’t yeh agree, ‘Li?”

Lilas rose and gathered her cloak, preparing to leave. She turned to the Hatter and waited for him silently.

Alice stood as well and resisted the urge to glare hate-daggers at her. “Where are we staying tonight?” she asked, her gaze still fixed on the woman whom she was increasingly disliking. Lilas arched a brow.

Hightopp turned and cleared his throat. “Mae has kindly offered us rooms here.”

Allander strolled over to Alice’s side. “What a fine coincidence then,” he purred.

The Hatter’s left eye twitched, and he determinedly did not look at Lilas. Rather, he kept his gaze shifting between that of Alice and Allander.

When it became evident that he was not leaving with her, the Healer’s lips pursed and her eyes glazed over briefly with hurt. She tossed him a final glance before turning and left the tavern proudly. Mae observed this quietly from across the room, and when Arris announced his intention to leave for bed she jumped at the chance to show him away.

“Speakin’ of bein’ abed,” Allander said quietly in Alice’s ear, “I feel I mus’ admit I’ve never been a man wi’ contented desires.”

Turning around, she found Allander gazing down at her with a look that even Alice’s half-tipsy mind couldn’t mistake. She swallowed.

Tarrant’s eyes flashed crimson. He stepped behind her. “As unofficial protector ta th’White Queen’s Champion, I feel it’s in all’s best interest ta keep the Alice away from riffraff like you.” He stood behind Alice and smiled with his lips, but warned with his eyes. “You understand,” he lisped dangerously.

Anger welled in Alice’s gut. He had spoken for her again; her fists balled at her side. She decided that all this forceful handling of her person was coming to an end immediately.

For his part, Chess sat back and enjoyed the spectacle from a worn, squashy chair in one corner, kneading his claws lightly against the scratched leather upholostery.

Allander took a step back and gaped at his friend. “Riffraff?” he repeated. “Nauw tha’ hurts, Hightopp.”

Tarrant mock-bowed at the hips and gently placed his hands on Alice’s arms. She shrugged them off and stepped away.

“I’m sure I can very well find my room on my own.”

Hightopp’s eyes never left the woodsman, who was feeling increasingly agitated.

“No doubt,” he clipped.

“As she says,” the woodsman offered. He offered a stiff bow as well, and bit back a grin at the situation he’d found himself in. “Well then. I’m off ta my bed. If anyone should need me…” he trailed off, chuckling, and climbed the stairs to the next floor.

Chess took his cue and bid adieu to the silly pair before him, and evaporated most dramatically into thin air.

Alice and the Hatter stood alone in the middle of the now darkened tavern. She was so upset that she could hardly stand it, so she stamped her foot.

“You’re impossible!” she shouted, and turned on her heel to stomp away up stairs.

Her hands gripped the worn banister carefully as she tramped loudly up the old, creaky steps. Her mind railed at the nerve of that frustrating Outlander. So preoccupied was she with her angry mental tirade (the angry voice had finally defeated the others) that she didn’t hear the footsteps following behind.

At the top of the stairs was a darkened hallway with only a single, desolate lamp on a table flickering halfway down. With a groan, she realised she did not know where her room in fact was, and she would have to either knock on every door until she found an empty one, or ask-

“Second ta tha left,” he murmured at her back. His voice was quiet, and Alice nearly choked at the tone. Like butter slipping down a hot knife.

Alice did not turn back to face him and merely nodded. The movement wreaked havoc with her balance and she hid this by grasping the handle and wrenching the door open.

She very nearly slammed it shut behind her and was relieved to find another lamp lit and dancing on a side table near a bed. A bed! She gazed out at the surrounding darkness and wondered if Mae had somehow been able to set her things out.

Another wave of frustration washed over her and she reached out and flung a pillow against the wall. The evening had gone in a direction she was well on her way to regretting. The Hatter, Tarrant, she mentally sneered, had all but abandoned her and had brought in that, that, woman. She’d foolishly let herself get intoxicated by an admittedly charming man, and then she - Alice’s pride did not allow her to replay what she could remember of the meeting – and then Tarrant who apparently had quite a reputation amongst the locals, had dared suggest what she could or could not do, and with whom? She stamped her foot again and shrieked as quietly as she could.

“If yehr no’ careful you’ll wake th’others with tha’ racket.”

Alice spun in the dark to find a heavily shadowed Hatter standing near her doorway.

“What are you doing?” she snapped. Furthermore, when had he entered?

He stared at her in the dark but did not reply.

Alice’s temper flared again and she angrily placed her hands upon her hips and tapped her foot.

“Well?” she asked again.

“Only room left,” he said in that tone he’d used in the hall.

The warning voice that had previously disappeared squeaked somewhere deep inside her mind.

Tarrant took a step forward, further into the light, and stared at Alice with a predatory darkness in his eyes that, among other things, unnerved her. A warm knot of ‘something’ settled in her abdomen. Also, all of sudden it seemed unreasonably quiet. Oppressively, even. For a moment she had to remember what she was angry about. Damned alcohol.

A cocky grin curved one side of his lips.

Her anger was fading despite her best efforts, but she glared at him anyway.

“So you thought that entering my room would be an acceptable option?” She resisted a wince at her logic because, technically, they had shared a cave the previous night in much closer quarters. It was the principal of the thing. To her horror her heart decided to beat quickly.

‘Traitor,’ she thought in alarm.

He advanced another step, and despite her growing arousal, her instinctual reaction was to take a careful step backward. This action elicited a rapacious grin from him, and he continued his advancement.

“He want’d you, yeh know.” Again with that voice.

‘Oh dear.’ Alice licked her lips. He was a mere foot away from her now. She could feel heat radiating from him at even that distance, and when her tummy swooped intriguingly, all anger completely vanished. “Traitor,” she murmured aloud.

Tarrant cocked his head, and examined her features in the dim light with red-orange, black rimmed eyes. “I wonder, m’Alice,” he whispered, leaning close to her ear and lightly inhaling, “would yeh’ve gevin in?”

He was fully pressed against her now, and with the sound of her rapidly beating heart and panting breaths, combined with the distractingly solid feel of him, she could hardly understand what he had said. “Wh-what?” she breathed, perplexed. Her mind worked quickly to try to understand what was happening.

He smirked and tilted his head the other direction and briefly toyed with the idea of tasting the lips dancing a few centimetres away.

“Lilas!” she whimpered suddenly.

He pulled back and looked at her.

“You were with her.” She rapidly blinked, attempting to maintain control. She would not be used as a means to satisfy his hurt pride caused by Allander. A small part of her heart cracked a bit at this thought. That even in madness he might use her in this way. She began to twist away when he placed his hands possessively at her hips. They gripped her, almost painfully, and his usually askew eyes trained on her with perfect equality.

“She an’ I had somethin’ ta discuss.” His tone brooked no argument.

“But –”

“No,” he said firmly and leaned in once more.

Alice’s heart instantly lifted. He hadn’t, they hadn’t… a triumphant grin bowed her lips.

“You however,” he rasped and pressed against her once more, pushing a sigh from her chest. “You were nearly snatched by that,” he stopped himself and inhaled. Alice’s cheeks warmed.

His head dipped again to her neck, and she felt his breath hot roll across her skin. “Wha’ if he’d kissed yehr neck?”

She gasped as his warm lips suddenly pressed against the side of her neck for the second time that day.

A low growl rumbled deep in his throat. “Or th’hollow of yehr perfec’ throat?” Her head fell back when his lips found this very spot. She shivered as a trail of fire travelled up the column of her throat from the tip of his tongue as he dragged it upwards. She was slowly losing all control over anything.

“Or nipp’d along yehr jaw.”

Teeth against skin was the next unexpected, delicious sensation; she whimpered. Her mind was swimming with pleasure and disbelief and remnants of too much ale; her Senses were filled with everything Tarrant. His scent, the pressure of his hands, his chest, his glorious lips - she briefly thought she might actually collapse.

His mouth never left her skin as he gently bit and kissed his way to her ear. Without conscious permission, her hands fisted in the folds of his tattered shirt, encouraging him to continue. She felt him grin against her jaw, and he paused just before he reached that glorious spot he’d discovered for her earlier that afternoon.

His lips moved against her heated flesh, and he murmured around the taste of Alice. “Or gently…” his teeth lightly grazed an earlobe, and Alice hissed with pleasure, arching her neck to give him better access.

Pleased with her reaction, he growled again and bit down, eliciting a cry from her. His clever tongue ghosted over the tender flesh, soothing and teasing. She leaned into him wantonly and let her hands slowly move down the front of his chest. Some unknown force was demanding she feel skin.

The Hatter counteracted this by sliding his hands from her hips up her body and gathering her arms swiftly above her head. Again, his lips never ceased his ministrations, and he backed her against the nearest wall. Alice was completely possessed by him. Her hands tugged weakly against his grasp and she knew her current state of drunkenness had nothing to do with liquor and everything to do with lust.

His mouth moved lower, and Alice longed to have him kiss her properly; lips to lips. She turned her head and tilted her chin. He pulled back and nuzzled her cheek.

“Kiss me?” she breathed, opening heavy-lidded eyes to look at him.

His lips were slightly red from his attentions and his pupils were dilated and still in perfect tandem as they stared into hers. No further invitation was necessary. He moved in and instantly his warm lips were against hers, fiercely devouring them. There was no gentle exploration of a first kiss. This was passionate, consuming and filled with desperation and want-neednow!

Alice fought against the firm hand holding her arms above her head, eager to feel him under her palms, anxious to press him even closer against her. As if reading her mind, his hips pressed insistently into hers, and she moaned into his mouth, opening wider for him. Their tongues entwined, caressed, stroked and the scent of spiced mead and spinolker filled her senses. His free hand tangled in her hair, holding her to him as he continued to drink from her fully.

“Alice,” he hissed against her lips, finally releasing her arms, and wrapping his around her waist to pull her ever nearer.

“Mm,” she mumbled against him, leaning again into his blazing touch and revelling in the feel of his mouth against hers. Never had she experienced anything as intense as this. Not during a fumbled kiss aboard a ship in China; not even in dreams of friends in other Worlds she’d never acknowledged upon waking. This was something entirely New and absolutely Glorious. Something she never wanted to end.

“My Alice,” he whispered between fierce kisses. “Why is it,” – she nipped his lower lip – “yeh only return when,” – her fingers wound through his frazzled hair – “all of Underland needs yeh?”

The question threw her off, and the panting Alice paused a moment, opening her eyes to find his staring back once more. He brushed her belligerent blonde curls from her face and nuzzled the crook of her neck.

“Why don’ yeh come back when I need yeh?”

Alice’s racing heart skipped uncomfortably at the sorrow in his voice, but still she remained silent. His hands slid up her sides and around her back, desperation giving way now to tenderness and fear. Gently, he nipped back along her jaw and, with a sigh, pressed his forehead against hers. “I need you all the time.” he said quietly, this time not meeting her eyes.

Her previously fuzzied Alice mind began to clear, and she got her breathing in check as she considered not only what had just happened, but also his words. The friendly voice was shouting triumphantly somewhere in the distance, and had he not looked so incredibly pitiful she would have been beaming.

“Hatter.”

“No.” He looked up at her. “Not Hatter.”

Alice gazed at him thoughtfully. “Not my friend?”

He blinked and Alice could feel him begin to pull away. She held on tightly and moved with him.

“Wait.”

“Not Hatta.” He stepped away, shaking his head. “Oh, well Hatta, yes Hatter, Royal Hatter, Majesty, Hatter to the White Queen - where are my pins? I must have my pins, and bobbins, and ribbon –”

“Hatter, please!” Alice cried, shaking him lightly.

In an instant he had her slammed back up against the wall. His face was pressed closely against hers. “Name. Mm-mmy name.”

Alice’s heart was pounding against her ribcage. Her wrists were pinned in each hand at her waist, his eyes bore into hers, not blinking. Against her there was no feeling of his chest expanding with air.

“Your name?” she whispered.

He nodded once, sharply.

Alice’s eyes softened as she looked at him. She nuzzled her nose against the side of his, and felt him lightly tremble at the touch.

“Tarrant?” she whispered into his ear.

He sighed into her hair and let her hands slip from his. “Once more, please?”

She brought her hands to his waist and dropped a soft kiss against his ear. “Tarrant.”

He turned his cheek and captured her lips with his. Again, it was fierce and demanding. Alice wrapped her arms around his neck and held on.

His hands, those clever things, were roaming up and down her body grasping, sliding, touching – it was wonderful. She softly moaned into his mouth when his hands grazed against her breasts. Instinctively, she leaned into them, and gasped when one finally cupped her through the tunic.

His lips were at her throat again, and each hand alternately filled themselves with Alice’s lovely breasts, or waist, or jaw, or honey-sweet hair. He couldn’t feel every inch of her fast enough.

At least, from the waist up.

Alice felt a slickness between her thighs, and for a moment she felt embarrassed. But the feeling of his tongue tracing circles on her collarbone quickly banished all thoughts of modesty. She slid a leg between his thighs and grinned at the groan he elicited.

Through his breeches, she felt him harden. ‘Very curious,’ she thought wickedly. She dragged a hand from his shoulder and slid it under the opening in his shirt. His skin was feverish, and oh how she longed to feel more of it, but her first curiosity took precedence, and it began travelling down his stomach.

His lips followed her lead and Alice gasped once more when they found the edge of one breast. Her nipples hardened and her tummy tightened almost painfully. Still, her curious hand went lower and eventually lingered at the band of his breeches. Its twin arrived, and with a flash of bravery, she slipped one down to ghost over the bulge that was pressing against her hip.

He cried out and bucked against her hand, before she found herself pinned once more against the wall behind her.

He jumped away from her touch and his askew eyes blinked and shifted in all directions as if confused. He held his hands out, as if holding back some unseen danger. Alice instantly regretted the move.

“Hat- Tarrant,” she said calmly and pressed off the wall towards him.

“No!” he shouted and took a step back. He twisted around and looked about the room with alarm and then back to Alice whose hair was decidedly mussed, and the tunic that had slipped off one shoulder, exposing the top of one breast.

“Ohhh,” he said and wrung his hands together and shook his head. “Ohh no, what… have I…”

Alice reached for him. In the back of her mind, she realised that he hadn’t been Himself moments ago, and she was fighting off being incredibly disappointed. For now, she simply didn’t want him to feel frightened or Wrong.

“Tarrant, it’s fine. I,” she searched for words as his head shook fiercely from side to side, “you did nothing wrong.”

“Wrong!” he shouted, knocking over a table near the doorway. “Mustn’t harm the Alice,” he lisped. “I, oh no, Alice…”

She stepped towards him, dodging the fallen table in the darkness. “No, you didn’t do anything bad, I wanted it.” She reached towards him, hoping her touch would calm him.

He knocked her hands away and gripped the door handle. He was in near total darkness again, and Alice couldn’t see his expression. His voice, however, deepened again, and a sliver of light emerged from the lamp in the hall.

“I’m sorry. I should’nae have…” he exhaled with a groan and spun around and out the door, shutting it firmly behind him.

Alice stood in the dark, listening to the sound of his retreating footsteps. She wrapped her arms about herself and attempted to get her breath to slow. A tear slid down her cheek. The girl from Upland stood staring at the door for several quiet minutes wondering, hoping, if he would return.

Eventually she turned and looked at the bed. For days she had been dreaming of sleeping in a proper bed. She supposed the one before her had probably been comfortable and cozy for those who had previously slept in it. To her, now, it looked cold and lonely.

With only a small amount of surprise, Alice found that she’d have taken a hard cave floor near him, rather than sleep on that alone.




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A/N: For this challenge I had the most unbelievable luck in having Clarice1682 choose my story to bestow lovely artses upon.

Everyone should check it out so you can bask in it's glory, and be sure to tell her just how much you love it! It made my whole freaking month when I saw this, and I'm still kind of in awe.

Beautiful, beautiful.


The link to this exquisite pic can be found here: http://pics.livejournal.com/clarice1682/pic/000161sb and really, you must see it. It's pretty sexy.



p.s. Er, how am I doing so far?