+ some wonderlands are kind

[ Grey ruffles obscure the broadcast, until the Duchess takes a step aside. She has taken her head off whole, and placed it carefully on a scale. She watches the numbers rise... rise... rise, until the scale beeps, and stops just at 39.9 pounds. The Duchess sighs, pleased, and picks her head back up. ]

Heavy is the head that knows the truth, make sure 'tis not too much to bear!

[ A long silence follows.

After a while it occurs to her that her audience may be with her still. ]

'Tis all I shall tell you today. If you wish to dig, dig yourself, what good is any truth if it lies buried with you? [ She taps her lip. ] Cremated, I suppose, that would be more accurate.

[ The Duchess primly sets her head straight in her lap. ]

Now, shall we bake a cake to help us through these frightful times? [ She clears her throat. ] You will need two eggs, two tablespoons cocoa, half a cup shortening, one and a half cups white sugar, one teaspoon of salt, one teaspoon vanilla extract, one cup buttermilk, two and a half cups all-purpose flour, sifted of course, one and a half teaspoons baking soda....

[ This will go on for some time. Feel free to bake along. ]

[ The Duchess stands on the beach in new attire. She balances head and hat on her neck with caution. The high collar is of use. The sand around her is disturbed, by ordinary footsteps and peculiar traces alike. She looks at something far beyond the video transmission, her voice as distant as her gaze. ]

We reflect on the actions of the past; We can't let go. We want to move forward. We can't change. We don't want to change. We want to protect. But there are Others. Others that won't give up. We can not help but be moved. We can't-- We can't help. But. Ha--no!

[ The Duchess lets out an ear-piercing shriek. ]

I am not her any longer! My duke! My dear duke, come to me! Remind me who I am! Their dry bones grasp for ours, 'tis no time for a crisis of character, we haveourresolveshatteredwecan'thelpbutbecomewholeagain.We-- We do not want our children hurt... so long we have waited-- Duke! Stop her, I say! Stop her from trying!

[ At last - apparently - the Duchess' piglet waddles into view, and finds shelter underneath her dress. The Duchess scoops him up with relief. ]

There! Come, my love, we are already late. There is still enough time to seek shelter- from the lesser of the evils, at least!

[ The Duchess head rolls into the frame, most tragically without grace. Her face comes to rest on the floor. She sighs heavily. ]

'Tis rather inconvenient like this. Turn me around, dear, so I can see them all.

[ The Duchess' piglet runs to her with a squeal, and nudges her head, so it turns to face her beloved audience. ]

Now! Do you see what I-- face, goodness, no, what vile punnery. [ She clears her throat. ] Do you see what I struggle with, my dear friends? Do you see it all? I must say it quite forcefully, you understand, for I- I cannot see enough otherwise, not like this! [ Another sigh, even heavier and more dramatic than the first. ] It slips, it turns, it falls, it will not stay with me, no matter what I do!

[ Her piglet nuzzles her hair consolingly, then begins chewing on it, undoubtedly to provide comfort. ]

Thank you, my love. Now, where was I? Ah! Your own medicine is worth twice the sweetness in the bush, that is what they say! Here is my plan, now make sure you listen well, or you get it wrong, and then I would need to pair you all up, for only two even wrongs set my head back on right, and we've no time for such things, no time at all, do we?

[ The Duchess clears her throat. ]

As mighty as the sharpest blade, as stout as the hardest shield, a spool of thread woven from hearts of gold. It must exist, and I must have it! She'll do worse to my head if I search, but you'll help, won't you? I will let you see, and you will be my eyes! All good things come tomorrow - then I'll let you see, and you'll be my eyes, and when it's all done you'll use your own mouths to tell my personal ears all you know, won't you?

[ Her piglet nudges the screen. It turns, and shows the Duchess' body, standing in front of a mirror, painting it silver. Somewhat without coordination it paints the walls and itself as well, but as long as it does not miss the glass entirely, the Duchess' head seems satisfied enough with its efforts. ]

See, now, we're nearly done, and when we're all done you'll see for me. Good luck, my darlings, the best of luck to us all!

Swallow! Devour! Consume! Eat!

[ The Duchess' greeting is grand, but she slumps in her seat too soon after, nails tapping the surface of a finely polished table with some sense of ennui. ]

I'm rather sick of it, you know. Suppose there's the rub, really. Our new guests are entirely too delicious, and entirely too sick. I did not invite them, mind, and I should encourage you to deny them quite sternly yourself. Courtesy has its time and place, and perhaps if you can endure such troubles for a few days we might invite courtesy into our home again-- oh!

[ She shakes her head, and the palm of her hand finds her lips, clasping them shut in embarrassment. ]

All is well that eats well, I should have said so from the very beginning. You can see it, of course, but 'tis important to repeat it and remember, lest you forget and repeat poorly.

[ The Duchess waves off some unspoken thought with a sigh. ]

Be that as it may, have you thought to bring all that is required? Time may run out, but I cannot say I would encourage you to do the same...

Eat! Devour! Swallow! Consume!

[ The Duchess' announcement sounds loud and fierce, from the mansion's very rooftop, and any device that would listen. But no sooner does her last scream ebb away, than her voice and face alike turn into a picture of quiet melancholy. ]

Would that we could leave it all behind. Alas, such matters make poor resolutions, for what certainty is there, truly, that we could become the hunters, and not merely food for another?

[ She looks towards the forest and lingers thus a moment longer, lest her silent dignity should inspire an artist to paint her greatness. Then she turns with flourish, and embraces the presence of her dearest audience at last. ]

Oh, oh! I do promise we shan't dwell on it a moment longer than we must! [ Her hands clap together with excessive cheer. ] You've all conducted yourselves rather splendidly, and did I not tell you that matters would resolve just as you all deserve? I am so very pleased with you today, and I should like to share a moral thought:

[ Cue the dignified pause for effect. Then: ]

Year's end is no end, yet neither is it beginning. 'Tis a continuance, with all the wisdom instilled by experience.

[ She smiles very, very warmly, and parts with her final thought: ]

Try to avoid the teeth this time, won't you?

[ One cannot guess from where the Duchess might speak this time, as her transmission shows nothing but her mouth, and dark lips pressed together into a thin line. ]

You think my patience is endless? You think I offer you forgiveness in the palm of my hand, so you might devour my arm whole? I am a woman of my word, but I'll not have you twist my words so you might seize a thing you do not deserve!

[ She flashes her teeth, all bared into the hideous image of a snarl. ]

You think my patience is endless? No, its end grows nearer and nearer by the hour, and so does your last chance to prove yourselves to me. Solve the riddle and redeem yourselves, or suffer the consequences of my displeasure.

[ It is Tuesday. Oh so very Tuesday, oh so very early. Night's not lifted yet at all, poor sunrise, so very far away. But 'tis time. And perhaps you'll hear her all the same. Or perhaps you'll not. ]

Pieces!

[ ...No, suppose you probably would.

(She's there in plain sight, after all, on the monitors and on that meadow by the forest, with an array of patterned bags and colourful suitcases at her feet, packed and ready for departure.) ]

'Tis all fallen to pieces, and you'll insult me no more with it! I wash my hands clean of your mess, and may you all stay here, stay here, and put it back together bit by bit by bit by hideous, hideous, crumbling bit. After all I've done for you!

[ The Duchess sobs loudly into her sleeve. Behind her the forest rustles gently, as gently as any ominous forest by night ever could. The piglet in her arms squeals tiredly, ever so patient with the Duchess' display. ]

I tell you now, I tell you the last thing I shall ever tell! You've stretched my patience oh so very thin, and now the land stretches as well. Too high, too wide, too far to reach. Beware! Beware, that is all I might tell you. Tread more carefully with it, as you've trodden with me, else you'll fall--

[ She sighs, ever so deeply. ]

--as far as your morals have fallen.

[ With that the Duchess gazes pointedly at the mansion one last time, stuffs her little pig into a chequered duffle bag, and lugs her belongings off into the forest, where she vanishes between the trees. ]

[ Roses are grey, violets are grey, poetry is really difficult for people living in the Mirror Universe. In their bland and dreary garden in front of the mansion the Duchess is the only speck of colour to be seen. And contrary to her last transmission or her bleak surroundings she is looking positively cheerful today! ]

What harm could a little curiosity possibly do? [ The Duchess coos, but her attention is not on her audience: It's on the little green sapling she holds cradled in her palms. ] T'is cold there, ever so cold, but it is always coldest before the dawn!

[ She kneels and begins digging a hole into the colourless soil. ]

You shall fight for us, you know, even when you're all alone here, and I'll have my answer then, I need only be bold enough to ask!

[ Carefully she plants her little speck of green and buries its roots. When she is done the sapling flickers grey, like a static image about to die. Worried she holds her breath in anticipation, but the scene has already calmed: The sapling is still green.

The Duchess smiles fondly. ]