Title: Wild Cards & Gambits

Summary: A year after the events of Tea And Chess, Wonderland City has settled into a relatively peaceful existence. Living in Wonderland is never easy though and Alice and her friends are plunged back into adventure when the past begins to creep into Wonderland once again.

Rating: R-M (depends on the ch. really and the mood I'm in.). Rated for language, sex, violence...the norm.

*Yes, unfortunately to avoid being completely lost reading Tea and Chess is recommended.*

Authors Note: It has been so long since I've written and I've had this in my head ever since I ended T&C. With some encouragement, I'm dusting off my muse and trying to get back into the swing of this. Please excuse if this one is a bit rough; I feel like I'm just getting back into it. I hope you'll all bear with me once again for this one :-)

Chapter One: Heir Apparent

The cries of a small child filled the nursery, echoing through the single corridor leading to the main hall. It was long past midnight in Wonderland, the City quiet except for the occasional hum of Scarabs flying back and forth with cargo from all directions. The upper rooms of the Heart Palace were just as quiet despite the substantial number of courtiers it now housed. For a city its size, Wonderland City could be remarkably quiet in the dark of the night but not at all times. Though an unspoken rule that the area near the Palace was for the more refined shops and therefore quieter, the Heart rule could not control everything. For the past four months there had been substantially more crying that disturbed the once dignified silence of the Heart Palace.

The child's cries grew in intensity, clearly distressed by something and not about to be soothed. The pair of guards outside the nursery snapped to attention, throwing down their playing cards and chips as they remembered their charge and promptly their boredom and drowsiness was forgotten. They moved back into their places just in time when the Nanny, a tall thin woman whose bony and stern face hid a kind heart, poked her head out and whistled at them. Being who she was, she had a higher authority than they did and her whistle was not to be ignored; though it was often done in the same manner one would call a dog. The one nearest, a young Card who was rather indignant at the boring post of nursery watch, sighed and looked at her. He knew better than to disregard the Nanny but there were times when it was certainly tempting.

"Fetch one of the parents, will you?" she demanded lowly when he drew near, fluttering her thin hands impatiently to shoo him away. Resisting the urge to mimic her, the young man nodded, personally not relishing waking the King and Queen at this hour.

On the other hand, the last man that didn't think to wake them when their child was clearly upset had been promptly demoted to guarding the basement archives, which was even more boring than nursery detail.

In the Royal Apartment, Jack Heart, King of Wonderland, chewed on his lower lip thoughtfully as he stared at the papers and books left by his chief secretary. The papers were dictating the procedures and costs for the soon-to-be celebrated hundred and twentieth anniversary of undisputed Heart Rule and the five hundredth anniversary of the Lake Prison. Jack hadn't realised just how much planning went into such festivities in the city and it was only recently that his secretary had brought the subject to his attention. Which meant that there were a slew of odds and ends to tie up, festivals to plan, people to pay off…the usual when it came to Wonderland Politics. Jack had to use his connections with past Resistance members to get the goods needed to try to make this a passably decent celebration.

Then there was the problem that surrounded the Lake Prison itself. The latest requests for Royal Pardon were still flooding in and the variety in them meant that Jack had to go through each and every request carefully. There were dangerous criminals, chronic pickpockets and dream-drug sellers, ancient political rivals exiled by his mother; they all wanted a chance at freedom and it was custom every fifteen years to pardon select criminals. It fell to his position whether to grant those requests or not; a hard task when some of the crimes went from Buttered Fly poaching to serial slayings and it was hard to keep them in order. It would do with his luck to sign the wrong papers and end up freeing an insane criminal instead of a two-bit thief.

It was also difficult to concentrate when he was being stared at so intently. The tabby cat curled up on the divan was twitching its tail back and forth, its eyes held to small slits as it watched him. He had never thought a cat could look sly but this one succeeded easily. Jack wished he could just put the cat out of their rooms but, strangely, it would just reappear. It already wandered the halls, nothing more than a glorified mouser that Amelia kept collared and leashed. It should have humiliated the animal but more than once Jack had seen the wide grin the cat would give at him, the kind that made his skin crawl.

Not for the first time, he wished he had simply executed the Cheshire on the spot rather than allow for him to be imprisoned in a feline body. After all, the Cheshire's crimes had more than called for it. Anything would be better than having to deal with the eerie way the cat would stare at him at night. As if it knew some deep secret about Jack's future and was going to relish when it came to pass. Amelia said he was worrying too much about it but it was a feeling that he couldn't shake. The cat staring at him was almost as haunting as his still lingering guilt over the death of his old friend The Knave.

Resolving to ignore the cat, Jack bent his head back to his papers and scrummaged around for one of the books. Beyond the purring of the cat and the soft breathing of his sleeping wife, the room was blissfully still and silent. Jack quickly absorbed himself in his work, tallying the numbers in his own private ledger quickly. The knock at the door didn't make him look up from the heavy book of accounts he was reading and, outside, he heard one of the guards clear his throat. Jack didn't bother to look up, struggling to understand his secretary's nearly illegible writing.

"Sire?" the guard called out through the door. Sighing, Jack tapped his pen on the desk in irritation.

"Yes?" Jack answered and the man peeked through a crack in the door, not daring to enter. For the King to be up usually meant that he was in a particularly restless mood and the guard was not wanting to be the target of his frustration.

"The Nanny, Sire. She requests your presence," the guard told him and Jack frowned back down at his book, setting his pen to the side.

"I'll be there shortly," he answered tersely and with a relieved sigh the guard shut the door just as the baby started to cry louder.

When he heard the faint cries, Jack forgot his paperwork and looked over at where Amelia was starting to rise from their bed. The former Duchess had adapted to motherhood well, defying years of tradition in going against having her child given to another family to foster. It had been a long-standing custom that children of Royal families were raised by someone else so not to interfere with Royal duties. Even Jack had been raised by the Black Spades at one time when his mother could not stand her only son, and he had hated every long year of it. There was no positive side to be found in the Wonderland tradition that had made him endure a lonely childhood.

Going against tradition had shocked the Court but Amelia had persisted and often simply ignored the gossip that swirled. Her decision had made Jack proud and he knew how much she loved their son just by the way she guarded him so fiercely from the normal noble traditions. It did wear on her though, as she had to be both a mother and a Queen, not to mention a wife. Staring at her, Jack both admired her and worried about her. Her eyes and face were pale with exhaustion, hours of having to control the intricacies of the Court wearing thin on her, and Jack shook his head, standing from his chair. He made it to the bed before she could slip on her robe, putting his hand on her shoulder.

"I'll go, 'Lia," he said, using his pet name for her to try to coax her to stay in bed. Her eyes, which were normally cool when in Court, flicked to his and she gave him an amused look filled with warmth.

"I've no problem going to check," she answered. "What is a mother for?"

"Which is why we Royals have nannies and normally put them to good use," Jack joked as he reached out and took her robe from her. He put his hands on her shoulders and firmly sat her back down. Amelia arched a brow and tipped her head back to stare up at him, not bothering to fix her slightly askew nightgown. She knew very well it would distract her husband and judging by the way he looked at her, it was certainly working.

"And look how you and I turned out," she pointed out, her tone dry with sarcasm. Jack smiled, remembering well his own strange upbringing. An upbringing where he had never seen his father or mother beyond scheduled ten-minute increments if he was lucky.

"I highly doubt our four-month old son will start a revolution and usurp the throne any time soon," he answered. "Go back to sleep, Amelia. It is probably a bad dream you know; he does get those."

"I usually go though. I don't mind," she said but her protests were a bit weaker when she saw her husband's resolve and his very clear concern for her.

"I'm home tonight and in no rush to finish the bureaucratic paperwork the Clubs have been having me review. I'll go. If I think it should last, I'll bring him to sleep with us." Jack cupped her cheek in his hand and lifted her face to his. "Besides, your bad dreams tend to wear you down enough. You shouldn't always add his nightmares to your own worries."

She didn't react to that reminder, but he hadn't expected her to. Amelia never discussed her nightmares with him, nor her terrible memories of her torturous weeks at the mercy of the Red King Archibades. They were now repressed as best as she could… but not in her dreams. Jack had learned that the only way to cope with such dreams was to simply pull her into his arms and let her shake and cry until she fell into a deeper sleep once more. He only hoped that one day it would not plague her as badly it did now, that one day she would trust him to fully explain what had happened in the weeks that had nearly cost her her sanity. Jack's own guilt about that had never ceased, and he doubted it would ever.

As if finally deciding to let him ease her fears, Amelia sighed and nodded, pulling her legs back onto the bed. Her hand went out though and grasped his belt buckle with surprising strength. She tugged him closer to the edge of the bed and tossed her hair over her shoulder. "That reminds me," she said, her voice gone husky and she looked up at him through her long eyelashes. Jack stared down at her, recognizing that tone of voice intimately.

"Reminds you?" he asked in amusement and she smiled flirtatiously.

"Should you return alone, I believe that I was owed some time alone with my favourite Card," she commented and Jack's eyes flicked over her face. He felt her fingers trailing over his stomach and knew that he had to leave before he forgot about his crying child in the nursery.

"I'll be back shortly," he said with a grin and kissed her forehead. "And I intend to give you the time owed to you, my love."

"See that you do," Amelia answered, smiling as he left her alone again.

If Jack had ever been told months ago that he would be able to love so deeply that the sight of that person would make his heart ache, he would have turned up an imperious nose and dismissed that notion as something for the common man. It had taken a revolution, several near-death moments, a quest into the dangerous Checkerboard Taiga, a touch of magic and a fierce duel to make him realise that he was wrong. He had married Amelia almost exactly one year ago and she had fallen pregnant just as quickly, something that Hatter still ribbed Jack about though the King took it with good humour. Hatter's jokes about it meant nothing now that Jack experienced that deep feeling daily, as he had ever since the defeat of the Red King and the White Queen, whenever he looked at his wife. That feeling had touched him deeply and he had privately sworn never to ignore it again.

It had taken the birth of his tiny son to make him realise that it was possible to feel that depth of emotion for more than one person. His son had been born a month and a half early but had been remarkably healthy, but even with his good health Jack still worried over him. So he never missed a chance to be the one who came to look in on his child or to take over for a weary nanny at night. Nanny, inherited from another generation, beamed at him the moment he stepped into the nursery and bustled over with the child in her arms. The boy was still crying and beating his fists in the air, furiously wailing as if his life depended on it.

"I figured he'd take more kindly to his parents coddlin' him than me," she declared as she gingerly handed Jack his son.

"That's all right. I'll stay with him until he settles. Go and rest for a while," Jack said, nodding to the open bedroom door nearby. She curtsied awkwardly to him, eager to do his bidding, and Jack waited until she was gone before turning to look at his son.

Prince Royal William Richard Winston Heart stared up at his father; he was quiet now that someone was holding him whom he loved and trusted. His four-month old face already resembled his father's sharp features and he looked up at him with the still vivid blue eyes of his mother. Jack could see so much of himself already in his son and the boy was one of the brightest spots in his life. Knowing he was loved, Will gave him back as much love and Jack realised what he had been missing in his own lonely upbringing. Will almost cooed at his father, giggling when Jack gave him a mock-stern look as he held him up close near his face. Will's chubby baby arms flailed in the air for a moment.

"You scamp. You did it just to get her up, didn't you?" Jack asked and his son wiggled a bit in his arms. "I think you paid too much attention to your godfather when he last visited."

Will simply gurgled and peered up at his father as if wondering what was wrong with his godfather Hatter. Jack had been a bit leery about having the younger man be a godfather to his son, considering his past history and his general uncomfortable air around babies. But, to show that miracles did happen, Hatter had also become a friend to both Jack and Amelia. He had gradually lost his unease around his godson and visited on occasion to simply see him if he wasn't there on business first. Godparents were a novelty Jack introduced to Wonderland from his time in the Earth side of the Looking Glass, mostly to show Alice Hamilton some appreciation for her saving his kingdom twice and Hatter had been the only really good choice, the only real friend Jack had, for the godfather. Alice, on the other hand, had been the only choice he had had for godmother.

Will whimpered in his arms and Jack sighed, going over to the rocking chair set by the balcony window. The room was warmly decorated, and there was a vast amount of old nursery furniture retrieved from Amelia's family home; some so old that Jack thought that just touching them would cause them to break apart. The old antique chair creaked horribly as Jack warily lowered his weight onto it, not moving until he was certain it would stay upright without collapsing. He pulled Will up onto his chest and let his son nestle comfortably against the crook of his neck before he leaned back in the chair.

"Suppose we could keep going with the story I was telling you," Jack commented. "You like stories about my adventures, eh?"

With a gurgle, Will reached out and grasped his father's shirt tightly in one tiny fist. His warm little body nestled closer into Jack, and he babbled something unintelligible to his father. Fixing the blanket around Will, Jack frowned and looked at the ceiling. "Where did we leave off…I think we were talking about Charlie the White Knight, hmm?

His son babbled something else against his neck and Jack looked back down at him. "Jabberwock Hunt?" Will's blue eyes opened and he stared up at him, gurgling impatiently and Jack nodded. "Right. So, we were standing in the Wabe Forest along the Open Road, after the attacks of the Iron Lion…"

Will didn't sleep until Jack was rambling about the old Kingdom of the Knights, telling his son about the old society and the old White Knight who thought he practised the Black Arts. If there was one thing Jack had learned about his son, it was that the infant wasn't terribly fond of hearing about history. He would coo and laugh if his father told him a funny story or an adventure story, so Jack only used history as a back-up plan to get his son to sleep. He was still talking lowly about how the Taiga Wars started when he realized that his son was sound asleep, a small trail of drool dribbling down his chubby cheek. Grinning to himself, Jack ruffled the boy's soft blond hair and relaxed in his rocking chair.

"You know, history lessons for an four month old baby are rather unorthodox, even for your family," Amelia said from the doorway. She was leaning against the frame, her robe drawn close around her to ward off the chill.

Jack stood slowly and felt Will nuzzle his neck in his sleep. "He seems to enjoy the stories."

"As long as you hold off on stories about Jabberwocks, I don't see the harm," Amelia answered. Jack went a bit pale, as that had been the story he had been telling, but when Amelia looked at him he managed a perfectly blank expression that instantly made her suspicious. "Jack, we discussed this."

"It isn't anything more than he will eventually learn." Jack let her take the baby from his arms and followed her over to the crib. He could hear the Nanny in the other room up and moving again. "I thought you would be asleep."

"I missed having you in our bed. We don't often see each other, you know," his wife pointed out. "You've been so busy."

"It's coming up to the Lake Prison's five hundredth anniversary. Royal Pardons are standard but the more I look at who wants them…"

Amelia waited until she had their son properly lying in his crib before she straightened and turned to him. "Some are too dangerous to let out," she admitted, nodding her head to back up her words. She took him by his arm and led him from the room, being certain to close the door quietly behind them so not to wake the child. Jack turned to her, lines etched in his face from his exhaustion.

"What do you suppose I should do?" Jack asked her. It had become a good habit of his to ask her advice, even if he sometimes wondered at why she was so good at state-craft. She was as Court-trained as he, her mind a bit more devious as it had been more of a struggle to stay alive for her, and she tended to see things similarly to him.

"Perhaps it would not hurt to pardon the excusable for the Anniversary. The small-time crooks that stole things or the political prisoners still there for defying your mother; it would be something to show your charitable and forgiving nature. Maintaining the goodwill of Wonderland is just as paramount as protecting it." She sighed and began to walk with him back to their bedroom. "But what about the others?"

Jack made sure they were in their bedroom with the door closed tight before he answered her, "My mother's supporters will request for her hearing as well."

"Which you will not give," Amelia filled in and he nodded.

"Precisely."

"Then what is the hesitation?" she asked as she walked to their bed and threw her robe off carelessly. Jack clicked off his desk light before rubbing at his face slowly. He eyed the divan where the cat had been sleeping but it was gone from sight thankfully.

"It has been quiet…very quiet," he paused and watched as she climbed under the covers. "Too quiet. I've had reports of some political leanings to the old throne, mostly by those who had strong investments in the dealings of my mother. The more extreme of the White Rabbit is still circulating, underground now and stirring up trouble. The Suits take care of those troubles for me but it is almost as if something is festering. Even Dodo has gone back to his Library and Wonderland knows what he is getting up to while he's there."

Amelia made a face and rested back on her elbows. "Don't say that, darling. Every time you do, something bad usually happens and you regret it." A slow grin grew on her face and she batted her eyes seductively at him. "I really should get those thoughts from your head for a while."

Jack eyed her with a smile. "You should."

The Nanny muttered to herself as she folded up the young prince's clothing, her brief nap having refreshed her. She thanked the Gods that the King was more loving to his son than most of the nobility would have been; it made for rather easy work. She was too old to want more work and there was a good chance that this sort of job could lead to an easy retirement in several years. The thought made her hum an off-key melody as she worked, still low enough that the child in the next room wouldn't hear her and wake up. She didn't want to chance having to wake the King and Queen once more. It was her job to care for the prince and she was not about to be made redundant just because the child preferred his parents.

It was almost unnatural for a royal-bred Wonderland child to actually like their parents.

Lost in her humming, she did not hear the balcony door snick open nor the soft footsteps of someone approaching. What made her look up was the sudden chill in the air and she frowned, knowing that she had closed the windows earlier before the temperature dropped. "Hobgoblins," she grumbled to herself and went to shut the balcony door.

Something dark caught her eye and she twisted on her heel as the cloaked figure became clear in the dimly lit room. Whoever it was froze the minute she stepped into the room and the Nanny suddenly wished she hadn't left her bell in the other room to ring for the guards.

"Who're you? How'd you get past the outside guards?" she demanded, drawing herself up to her rather formidable height. It made her uneasy that the figure was between herself and the sleeping baby and she eyed the door.

"I wouldn't," the sexless voice said. It was a coarse, tuneless voice, as if the cold air had damaged their lungs and made their speech worse.

"You get out of here. Only their Majesties can come in here. I shall call the guards!" she threatened and the figure nodded beneath the cloak hood. The person took a step toward her with a stiff, ungainly gait.

"Of course. It is your duty after all and it is admirable that you take it so seriously. But first…" A hand lifted from the depths of the cloak and she saw a gloved white fist clenched tightly. Bending over, the figure leaned a bit toward her and then blew fine green dust over the Nanny. It settled on her shoulders and she sneezed instinctively as it invaded her nose. Almost immediately, the room spun in circles around her and she collapsed into an unconscious heap.

"Good riddance," the figure said, smiling in delight before turning toward the baby.

I had a wee bit of a panic about posting this. But this story has been nagging at me to keep going, so here I am...doing as I'm told