Grace wandered through the ballroom, entranced by the falling snow that never quite reached the guests and the frosted glasses serving colourful drinks. She eased her way past the dance floor filled with creatures from different realms happily colluding and gyrating to the eclectic music accompanying the laughter and chatter. At last she found the door she was looking for; a well varnished green oak with gnarled markings forming methodical patterns on its face. She glanced behind her before reaching for the brass handle and turning it, giving the heavy old oak a push.
Soft petals and glitter filled her view with glorious myriads of colour. The mad hatter’s table was spread and different sized tea cups sporting polka dots, stripes or floral patterns happily sat next to mis-matched side plates. Guests helped themselves to floating tea cakes and self-filling teapots whilst bunnies hopped everywhere on the petal coated floor. The essence of the Hatter was felt strongly in the room even though he wasn’t there.
She found what she was looking for. A tree trunk blended into the dark panelled walls decorated with wreaths. The thin outline of a small door could just be made out. As Grace traced her delicate fingers along the lines, she gently pressed the edges. A soft click sounded and the little door opened. Laughter and light music drowned out the sound and she peered into the darkness, making out tiny steps downwards.
With one foot prepared to enter the tiny doorframe, Grace bent forward to fit under the low threshold. Suddenly strong fingers gripped her shoulder and pulled her back, making her stumble over the long silky dress she wore.
“What are you doing? Don’t you know it’s rude to enter a different realm without the hostess’s permission?” A deep strong voice echoed across the room and she blushed in embarrassment as guests stopped to stare at them.
She looked at the man holding her back and grimaced. He was a Lord of the Light Realm and from his arrogant stance to the chiselled features and ornately decorated tailcoat, she knew he would never understand.
“Let go of me you underling!”she whispered with pure contempt. “I am a friend of Taliana and she is aware of my presence. Unhand me now cretin” she hissed, her long neck and tall body stretching to its full height of over 6ft.
The Lord stepped back in surprise and gurgled a confused response, shocked at her viciousness and aware that some of the guests were snickering with amusement. He watched the elegant woman stalk off into the crowd as soon as his hand released her pleasantly soft skin and all that remained was the perfume she wore, tantalising faint but desirable. Who was she and why was she trying to access the tunnel to the dark realm?
Maybe Taliana would know.
Pic from adore pics.com
wow – so amazing story, meaning and deep…Way to go!!
This is a tribute to my parents!
Thanks Mihran. That melody for your parents is lovely.
Reblogged this on Eclectic Alli and commented:
Taliana left the group as they continued to discuss the ethical intricacies of wish granting, heading through the ball to greet more friends. Passing into one of the rooms where her father had played with the threads she noticed some doors to other worlds, had found their place along the walls. She paused, checking the threads — the delicate dance that was at work between her mothers wards and her fathers careful manipulation of threads. Masterful work that had been perfected through years and years.
But there was one, one deep green thread that caught her attention. It shimmered and wound around the crowd, in and out of the rooms. It was unusual, seeming to act outside of the careful work of both her parents. Something to keep an eye on… but she watched how it wrapped around the crowd and remembered that she was supposed to NOT be paying attention to such things. So, instead she watched those the thread seemed to be dancing around.
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