Y/N

_

WONDERLAND WAS A STRANGE PLACE.

It was like a place sprouted from the deepest part of your imagination, resembling something out of a childhood fever dream. Flowers were growing upside-down, trees were sprouting leaves of different colors, and the sounds of wildlife echoing through the forest brought an unfamiliar nostalgic feel to my heart. I had never been here before, yet it seemed strangely familiar in a unique way.

But in the end, I suppose it's uniqueness was what made it wonderful.

"Come on," Louis said, grabbing my hand again, "I need you to meet some people."

More people?

Meeting him was odd enough, and I wasn't sure what else I'd encounter from here forth. Not like it mattered anyways, I was already being dragged through the forest like a cart on wheels.

I didn't say anything, letting the boy pull me along through a dirt path, pointing out various things we saw along the way. A dragonfly in the shape of a rocking horse, an apple tree growing both peaches and bananas, and other strange things that couldn't possibly exist in the real world.

Soon we came to a clearing, stumbling upon a tall, red mushroom in the center of the space.

"Well, if it isn't the Mad Hatter," a voice said, nearly sending my soul into orbit, "back from your mysterious errand, are we?"

Louis and I both whipped our heads towards the left, where two identical figures came emerging from the shadowy darkness of the trees. Once they came into the light, I took notice of their dark red-hair, matching clothes, and arms linked together.

They were twins.

"James," Louis scoffed, narrowing his eyes before addressing the other, "Oliver."

The one I now knew to be James, let go of his brother's arm, approaching the boy next to me with beady eyes. It was clear they didn't like each other, so I took a step back to melt into the background—I would rather not get involved in their little argument.

"I'm surprised you're not obsessing over your little tea sets," James smirked, poking at the brunet, "isn't it tea time for you and your little friends?'

Louis scoffed, "It's always tea time."

"Then where's your tea?"

What kind of argument was this?

I ignored my rhetorical question, watching as the boy took off his top hat, reaching his hand inside to find whatever he was looking for. A few moments later, he pulled out a small, mahogany box, with the word Spillings carved into the lid.

He shot the two twins a sassy expression, "here's my tea. Happy now?"

Oliver opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by the sound of a low yawn erupting from above the four of us. I looked up, noticing the Mushroom had somehow shrunk in size. What used to be towering over us, was now no more than the size of a bed.

And then I noticed a man sitting cross-legged over the side of the fungus, blowing smoke through a pipe, and reclining back with his right hand. 

"You are all such children," he snapped, glaring at all of us beneath him, "and bad hosts. You've neglected to introduce the stranger."

The stranger?

Oh, right. Me.

They all turned to look in my direction, and I noticed Louis' eyes widen in realization. His face read: oh, right, yes, sorry, I forgot to introduce you. And I wasn't sure why, but that made me a little more disappointed than annoyed. Did he forget I was there?

"Everyone, this is [y/n]," he said, grabbing my shoulders and pushing me forward, "[y/n], the two idiots are James and Oliver Phelps, and the wanna-be caterpillar is Harold Styles."

The 'wanna-be caterpillar' (who didn't look like a caterpillar at all) scoffed, "it's Harry, not Harold."

Louis furrowed his brow, "I swear you said it was Harold."

"I said nothing of the sort."

"Well, you must be wrong."

"Keep your voice down, and stop bickering," Oliver snapped, smacking Louis upside the head, "we can't risk one of The Cards hearing."

While the conversation had already segued away from the brief introductions, I decided to actually make my presence known with a question. This clearly wasn't a dream anymore, and now I had to actually try to make a point, much to my lazy ideals.

I piped up, raising my hand, " what do you mean by The Cards?"

Harry inhaled a huge breath from his pipe, letting out a series of puffs in the shape of letters. I couldn't even question it this time. I was clearly in a world of dreams and impossibility.

"Yes, The Cards," he said distastefully, "they're the guards of the Queen, obviously, and if you cause a disturbance, you could be in deep trouble."

Louis, James, and Oliver, all shuddered at the mention of the Queen. That brought up another question:

"Why are you all so scared of the Queen?" I noted in curiosity.

The only queen that came to my mind was Queen Elizabeth the II of England, but clearly that wasn't the one they were talking about. The twins plopped into the ground, their heads in their hands, and Louis glanced at me in worry. Apparently the story I was about to hear wasn't a good one.

"The Queen of Hearts," Harry said, narrowing his eyes, "she's been reigning terror over Wonderland for years, and now our world has become insufferable, lonely, and tragic faster than you can say cranberry scone."

Cranberry scone....?

Never mind, I'll keep listening.

"She's obsessed with power and wealth, and if you were to get in her way, she'd say 'off with your head' before you could ever stop it," Harry continued, "we've lost half of our friends to her terrible reign, and we are always being watched by her Cards of spies."

"Really?"

"And the kingdom is always guarded by the Jabberwocky; a creature that's more frightening than fear itself."

"That's horrible!" I exclaimed, narrowing my eyes, "but why doesn't anyone stand up to her?"

"If we did we'd get our heads chopped off, clearly," Louis cut in, biting his lip in thought, "and besides, we've been waiting for you."

I gave him a confused look, "me?"

"You're the girl in the prophecy, aren't you?"

Prophecy?

I was about to question what that meant, when Harry cut me off. James and Oliver were now looking at me with sudden revelation, and Louis seemed oddly protective.

"I'm getting the strange feeling that this girl isn't the girl from the script," Harry mused, "there's something odd about her."

Gee, thanks.

I opened my mouth to speak again, but then the feeling of someone tugging me closer snapped all thoughts out of my head. Louis had pulled me directly in front of him, raising a hand to squish my cheeks in between his fingers as he focused his hazel eyes directly onto mine.

He smirked.

"I don't know, Harold," he teased, his warm breath tickling my nose, "she looks pretty cute to me."

Something fluttered in my stomach, but I shoved the thought away immediately.

"For the last time, Partridge, it's Harry," the other man frowned, "and besides, just because the girl is cute, doesn't mean she's the one in the prophecy."

There was the prophecy thing again!

Swatting Louis' hand off my face, I turned to face the mushroom in a spurt of confidence. I wasn't going to stand there while they all observed me like an animal in a zoo. I needed answers, so I was going to get them.

"What prophecy?" I said, ignoring the lingering feeling of where Louis' hand had been.

No one said anything, but we all watched Harry snapped his fingers, materializing a sheet of old paper before our eyes. It was clearly worn out and fraying, and by the look of the strand of tape in the middle, it had been ripped in half previously.

But what caught my attention was the scribble of ink all over it:

Until the day the girl arrives

Wonderland will meet it's fate

Writhing in the world's demise

Until the jabberwocky's slain.

But still the one who steals the throne

And makes this Wonderland her home

She'll make the crown of hearts her own

and steal the heart of her betrothed

Okay, so two things.

One, this whole prophecy thing was giving me an eerie vibe that I didn't like one bit. And two, whoever the prophecy was talking about clearly wasn't me. I came here because of an accidental misstep, and now I'm expected to slay a giant beast and take down years of monarchy?

This was a big misunderstanding.

"Well?" Oliver piped up, rising to his feet, "is it you?"

I blinked, unsure of what to say. Louis took a step forward, brushing aside a stray strand of his dark hair inquisitively. There was a hopeful glint in his eyes as he waited for me to respond.

But James cut in, "if it's not you, then we'll have no choice but to send you back home."

Back home?

I paused, frozen to my spot as thoughts struck across my mind like splatters of paint. If I wasn't the girl in the prophecy (which I clearly wasn't), then they'd tell me to go back to Earth. Back to the Finishing school. Back to the place where I'd be expected to be the perfect bride, the perfect wife, and nothing more.

But this...Wonderland, clearly didn't care for such things.

They had a beautiful world full of magical traits, and gorgeous forests, and people that didn't care that I was a girl. They didn't expect me to do their chores, sit up straight, or keep my mouth shut—although they did want me to kill a Jabberwocky—but that was besides the point.

I could be myself here.

Isn't that the most important thing?

I lost my train of thought when I felt Louis grab my hand again. He was staring straight at me, wearing an expression that I wanted to call hope.

"Tell us," he muttered under his breath, "is it you?"

I nodded. What harm could a little, white lie do?