Disclaimer: I took out a subprime mortgage loan on MAR, and after defaulting on my payments now the Bank owns it. What, you don't believe me? You're right. Alas, I never owned MAR to begin with. (Don't tell the Bank.)

---

Author's Note: This story is set in the same continuity as my previous MAR fanfiction, "The Kid". You should probably read that story first, but if you don't want to then this fanfic can technically stand alone. Here's a little background for new readers: this story is set in a timeline in which after Phantom first met Alviss, he not only marked him with the Zombie Tattoo, he also kidnapped him. Now Alviss is currently living with the Chess Pieces, against his will. They're trying to raise him as a future Chess Piece, and he's trying (rather successfully) to make their lives miserable.

This story is supposed to be set around Christmas time, so it might have been more appropriate for me to post it then, but I'm sure no one wanted to that long, so here it is. Just pretend it's Christmas (or rather, Chessmass.)

For old readers, this one-shot is set between Chapters 3 and 4 of "The Kid", so currently Phantom has never been killed before and the First War Game is still being fought.

---

Merry Chessmass!

---

Rolan was slumped on the stone steps, his face buried in his hands. Although he wasn't actually crying, he looked close to it. Peta paused at the foot of the stairs to ponder this unusual scene. It was rare to see Rolan dejected about anything. It was even rarer for him to openly show his feelings instead of plastering a fake smile over his face when he was feeling glum. Unless—

"Something hasn't happened to Phantom, has it?" Peta asked harshly, a hint of concern leaking into of his voice.

Rolan raised his head, startled. "What? No. He's gone down to town to steal a giant fur tree for this 'Chessmass' party that we're going to have. Why do you ask?"

Christmas was some sort of holiday from outside Mar-Heaven that had been imported by the Cross Guard's new champion. And as soon as Phantom had found out that the Cross Guard was throwing a massive party, he'd insisted that the Chess Pieces had to have one too (after renaming the holiday Chessmass, of course). It was a bloody nuisance, according to Peta anyway. Just thinking about it made his temper rise.

"If nothing is wrong, then why are you sitting there looking like your doctor just gave you six months to live? Did Phantom get fed up with you and throw you out?" It was a rather cruel thing to say even for Peta, but the Chess Knight was the sort of person who felt the need to cover up the uncharacteristic concern he'd shown earlier with sarcasm and venom.

As always, Rolan simply ignored the insult. "It's Alviss! He doesn't like me!"

Well, duh, Peta thought. After Phantom had impulsively decided to kidnap that brat hanging around the Cross Guard, the ten-year-old boy had made it obvious that he didn't like any of the Chess Pieces. In fact, he considered them mortal enemies and probably would have slit at least one throat by now if Rolan didn't keep an eye on him (and keep him away from the knives). In fact, Rolan seemed to be the only Chess Piece that Alviss half-tolerated, which made this whole situation rather ridiculous.

"Just out of curiosity, where did you get the notion that Alviss dislikes you any more than he does the rest of us?"

"Because I'm the only person that he hasn't given a Christmas present to!"

Peta knew he'd regret asking, but he just couldn't help himself. "Explain what exactly you're talking about. And keep it short."

"Well, over the last week Alviss has done something to every single Chess Piece in the castle. Mostly just minor things, like belongings going missing, people falling down stairs, or buckets of water perched over doors. He's saved his special tricks for a just few of us. Like convincing Candice that she was going to get under the mistletoe with Phantom, and then leaving her there with Halloween. Hiding all of Loco's voodoo dolls in various places she couldn't quite reach. Sneaking catnip in Chaton's lunch. And we all know that Alviss is the reason you came down to breakfast with your clothes dyed red and green yesterday. Not to mention that springing axe trap he set for Phantom. Well, Alviss didn't manage to actually hit him, but I thought that the holly leaves tied around the blade were very festive."

Peta gritted his teeth at the memory of the red-and-green dye incident. "I trust there's a point to this?"

"He hasn't done anything to me!"

Just when Peta thought that he'd heard everything…"Maybe I'm missing something here. Why is that a bad thing?"

"Because it means he doesn't feel comfortable around me the way he does around the others. Or maybe it just means he doesn't like me very much. Why else would he give everyone except me a present?"

"Wait a second. How are the various torments Alviss has put us all through over the last week considered 'presents'?"

"Well, since Phantom burned down that village as a Chessmass present for the Cross Guard, I assume that's the traditional type of gift."

Peta sighed. "It's more likely that Phantom just has a twisted mind. And frankly, so do you! Just in a slightly different way."

"Oh why am I not loved as much?" Rolan sobbed.

Actually, Peta had once asked Alviss why he never tried to prank Rolan. According to his memory, it had more or less gone like this:

Peta: Why don't you go bother Rolan for once?

Alviss: I don't want to. He's creepy.

Peta: What do you mean? He's the person who's always nicest to you!

Alviss: That's why he freaks me out. Chess Pieces aren't supposed to be nice.

Drawing on the wisdom gained from this conversation, Peta attempted to impart some advice. "Maybe if you were less nice to Alviss, he'd be more likely to torment you."

"Do you mean he's taking me for granted? Alviss wouldn't do that, he's a good kid."

Peta would have responded, but his mind boggled at the words "Alviss" and "good kid" in the same sentence.

Rolan continued, "Maybe he just doesn't realize that I want a present. Come to think of it, I haven't given him anything. He must be so hurt! I need to get him something extra-special. Perhaps that flame-thrower he's been wanting. But no, Ash forbade me to get him that. Do you have any ideas, Peta?"

But by that time, Peta had gotten fed up with this crazy conversation and left.

---

Peta was far too busy to waste any more time on Rolan's problems. Preparations for Chessmass had left him exhausted. Phantom had placed him in charge of arranging the party. This was typical- Phantom's strength as a leader came from his charisma and his combat skills; when it came to organizational ability, he scored in the negative. As always, he counted on his right-hand man to pick up the slack. Peta's conversation with Phantom had gone something like this:

Phantom: Peta, I want you to steal some decorations, organize a team of pawns to decorate our largest room Chessmass-style (I'm sure you can research what the Cross Guard is doing and copy them), find a pine tree (I want it to be at least twenty feet tall), arrange for a feast for all our members (since I'm including all the pawns that will make about 250 of us) and since it's a special day I want everyone to have their favorite dish, so go ask all of them what they want, and while you're at it recall all our members who are currently on missions, I'm sure you can find a way to do that without losing any battles or giving away any undercover agents, and I want everyone to dress up in matching red and green outfits. Have it all done by tomorrow, okay? I have to go make a cameo harassing my mortal enemies the Cross Guard and showing off my new bandages. Ta-ta!

Peta: I need a vacation…

Well, he hadn't said the last part aloud, but he had thought it.

The subsequent day had been a nightmare for Peta. He was trying to block out the memory, but horrific images of obscure ingredients that only grew in swamps, a giant pine tree gone out of control thanks to an experimental growth formula, and a horde of clumsy pawns (who were barely intelligent enough to understand the concept of bludgeoning someone) committing a variety of decorating disasters ranging from dropping pointy stars on random passer-byes to baking exploding cakes.

Yet somehow Peta had managed to get everything together in time for the big day. The Great Hall looked spectacular decorated with red and green objects stolen from around the world, the giant pine tree loomed over the room, topped by a massive gold star, the tables were full of exotic dishes from around the world, a giant paper-mache ball hung from the ceiling, and all the Chess Pieces were gathered together, in matching outfits no less. (And if several delicate plans had been overturned to make this possible, then it couldn't be helped. Phantom was the boss.)

At least everyone seemed to be enjoying the party. All around the room, Chess Pieces were chatting, eating delicious food, engaging in random bouts of sparring, and even occasionally trying to dance. (The fighting and the dancing looked remarkably similar, actually. And not in a way that reflected well on the Chess' dancing skills.) A few people were exchanging gifts. Many of these presents contained dead animal heads or exploding traps. Alviss had given the Chess a somewhat warped idea of what a Christmas present was supposed to consist of. Or maybe it was just their natural personalities.

Peta himself preferred to stay out of party. He was a natural wallflower, although he would prefer to be called a "lone wolf". He lurked near the door, sipping something red that might have been wine.

Yes, the party was going magnificently. The food was excellent, the entertainment passable, and the decorations were a masterpiece. His eyes drifted around the room, taking in glitter, banners, holly leaves, mistletoe, and the giant paper-mache ball- hey, he didn't remember adding that!

He barely had time to finish the thought before the ball exploded.

A strange gooey material splattered all across the room. It was too fast for anyone to escape and too big for anyone to dodge. The entire mass of Phantom's army was pinned to the floor by a thick white liquid that appeared to be a cross between marshmallow and glue.

Peta's first thought was that it must be an enemy attack. Then he saw the banner dangling from the exploded hanging ball. It read "Merry Chessmass, suckers! Yours, Alviss." Well, Peta thought, I wasn't exactly wrong.

By cruelly trampling on anyone who got in his way, eventually Peta managed to crawl over to the giant tree (the only thing not completely submerged), grab onto a limb, and painfully haul himself free of the sticky mess. Climbing up the branches, he surveyed the scene of thrashing and screaming people. The entire Chess Army was glued in place, and they all seemed to be making massive fools of themselves.

Well, the entire army minus one. Phantom was perched on a branch a little above Peta. But unlike his right-hand man, he was completely untouched by the mess- without so much as a hair out of place. "How did you get out unscathed?" Peta demanded.

Phantom smiled whimsically. "I thought I saw the ball start to swell up, so I quickly jumped to the top of this tree."

"A little warning would have been nice!"

"Why should I have to do that? Remember, survival of the fittest. Besides, isn't all this chaos wonderful?"

"Wonderful! Every single Chess Piece has been immobilized, slimed, oh and utterly humiliated!"

"But I'm fine," Phantom pointed out.

For the first, last, and only time in his life, Peta completely lost his self-control. In a brief moment, time stood still, hell froze over, and Peta reached out and shoved Phantom off the tree limb into the gooey mess.

He would later do everything in his power to erase this moment from existence. He rigged evidence that the tree branch had spontaneously broken, and killed the only pawn who he thought might have been looking in his general direction at the time. Then he focused on convincing himself that it had never happened with such single mindedness that within a few weeks he could have successfully passed a lie detector's test saying that he had never pushed Phantom under any circumstances, nope not ever.

But the fact remained that it did happen. And at that very moment, Peta fled the scene of the crime, so shocked and frantic that he ripped his way through the sticky glue and was out the door in a matter of seconds.

Outside, he stared at the ceiling, his feelings in turmoil. How could he have done that to his beloved leader! It was unthinkable!

From behind him, a voice said, "You look awfully upset. Don't worry, I'm sure a little soap and water will get all that gunk out of your hair."

His precious hair! As if this day wasn't already bad enough. Peta whirled around, prepared to strangle whoever had dared to remind him of this grievous misfortune. But it was only Rolan, who was just too cute to kill (not that Peta would ever admit this).

Still irritated, he demanded, "How did you get out here?" Taking a closer look, he added, "And you aren't slimed either!"

Rolan nodded sadly. "I'm afraid I missed the fun. I happened to notice Alviss slipping out of the room, so I went after him to see what was wrong. Then the ball exploded."

"You're as lucky as ever," Peta said sourly.

"I know, my bad luck is horrible! Even though I followed your advice and told Rolan that I wanted to be included in his next prank. He gave me a funny look, but he told me if I went to the Chessmass party he'd come up with something extra special. And even so, I missed it!" Only Rolan could stand the sole person unaffected in the midst of Alviss-induced chaos, and bemoan the fact that he "wasn't included".

"Wait, you knew this was going to happen too?" Peta growled.

"Not exactly. I just knew that Alviss was up to something. Which is not exactly surprising news. Besides, I wouldn't have wanted to mess it up for him! Oh, I hope he isn't annoyed that I left early, after he went to all the trouble of preparing a special surprise for me!"

Peta was about to yell at Rolan, but suddenly he realized that right now he was just too tired to be angry. In all probability, nothing could have saved them from Alviss anyway. "Do you know where the demon-brat is now?" he asked.

"Uh, I think I saw him sneaking towards the back exit before I was distracted by the explosion."

Probably trying to escape in the confusion, Peta thought. "You'd better go find him. Some of the Chess Pieces are beginning to work themselves free, and if they catch him before you do it won't be pretty."

Rolan gasped. "You're right! I must rescue Alviss at once. Thank you so much Peta, I knew you cared!"

As he watched Rolan vanish down the corridor, Peta wondered why he had destroyed his best chance to see the demon hell child gone forever. It wasn't out of any concern for the brat's well-being. And it certainly wasn't to secure Rolan's gratitude. But Peta thought that left to his own devices Alviss would probably escape. And although the prospect of having him gone for good was a pleasant one, the brat would run straight into the arms of the enemy. If he was bad now, he would probably be worse once he took over the Cross Guard for his own demonic purposes. Peta preferred to have Alviss where he could keep an eye on him.

…And besides, he couldn't risk the evil brat spreading any stories about what he looked like with marshmallow in his hair.

---

Author's Note: This story is dedicated to 9shadowcat9, who requested that I write something else; that directly led to this plot bunny appearing in my brain.

By the way, in case anyone was wondering, Alviss got the ingredients to make his gooey surprise from Rolan; it was what he requested for his Chessmass present. Rolan felt bad about vetoing his first request (the flamethrower) so he didn't ask Alviss why he wanted half a ton of superglue, fifty barrels of marshmallows, and a small vial of acid. Alviss made the paper mache ball during an arts-and-crafts project with Ash. For reasons of his own, Phantom helped Alviss hang the ball from the ceiling. But Peta has only himself to blame for the timed-explosion recipe- he gave Alviss a chemistry book in a misguided attempt to get him to be quiet for a while. The banner was purely a product of Alviss' childish ingenuity.

---