Villainess Of Hearts

There was a glass table and several desserts and treats on display. They were all on a round layered platform: frosted cupcakes, mini-pies, quiches, and event fruits tarts. Strawberry shortcakes. Apple pies. Black Forest Cake. Blueberry Croissants. All and every kind of sweet delight that you could think of was on the table—which was queer enough when you realized it was a small circular table that was just fit for two people.

Although at the very moment, there was only one who was seated in front of the table. Albeit they were kind of out of it, a teacup and saucer was in front of them but they weren't touching it at all. It could have been a man or a woman. One didn't actually know since they were cloaked—but he had been identified as a man by a somewhat perceptive woman. 

Not that she was here.

And he had been the instigator of such events. How many occurences had it been? How much time had already passed…? Although that wasn't exactly relevant to him if one needed to be honest. It could have been just a few seconds since he had last seen her or it might have felt like a millennia had already gone by. But he was staring out and what mattered to him right now was the fact that—

He was alone.

And that was the only proper thing to be in this moment. He didn't wish for anything else. Or anyone else for that matter. That may have been a lie but there was a good reason for him to have no company.

Until a woman dropped out of the sky—or what was probably deemed as the sky. It certainly wasn't the ceiling or it might have been. Names be digressed. It was from above. Or it could have been below. One really couldn't tell the direction from whence they came from when you came to the bottom of it. But it had happened that she had landed in the empty seat across from him and it still shocked him to see her. Not that he would ever admit it but it was still the same… things weren't always the same.

But it was her.

It really was her who sat across from him. 

The very same woman in front of him. Her golden hair that fell across her shoulders like waves and eyes that were red as blood and rubies. It was the… Queen of Hearts. And if he was allowed to say it, to say her name was— "Rosalyn Lockharts, you've returned." He greeted her with a simple nod as the tea that had been cold suddenly started to grow hot.

Or it simply reverted back into its state of being freshly brewed.

She blinked and she looked more out of it than him at this particular moment. Her gaze was fixated on him and he couldn't help but wonder what had happened? There was no injury on her person in this particular moment and no sign of struggle of any sort. Not that he'd like to see her beheaded, but when it had happened: a fine line of red had been across her throat.

The Queen of Hearts bolted out of her seat as her hands slammed down on the table. She had done it with such a magnitude of stress—that he had to prevent it all from toppling down. She stared at him agape and this time, it felt like she was truly looking at him.

Not at him simply being the one who reversed the wheel of time but as someone in front of her. "Y-You! How many times have we met already?" Her voice was sharp and biting and the look in her eyes was a mixture of emotions. Her eyes seemed to burn and cool at the same time. Uncertainty. Surprise. Betrayal. Wariness. 

Far enough times to have known her well.

But he stopped himself from saying that and simply motioned to her, "You could be sitting down, perhaps?" He bit back a smile. He might have been the host… but it was strange to have questions redirected at him. He was the one who asked his guests and if not for them answering such questions, they would be the ones recounting their tale to him—and the Queen of Hearts had spent a great deal of time venting to him many times over.

Perhaps the only one who could have been an equal had been the Joker. And that was a different matter entirely. There had also been the occasion where he had tea with the Hatter… but these were not pertinent to the matter, or the person in front of him.

Rosalyn Lockhart gave him a reproached look. Despite the numerous times they've met—she still held on to her headstrong attitude, it might even be a characteristic of hers to never bow down to anyone in front of her. She could move a bit to the left and right, but she would still move straightforward to her goal. That was the person that he knew.

And it might have to do that she was the Queen of Hearts.

But of course his words had only been a mere suggestion and after a moment, she huffed and sit down on the table. And unlike before, instead of waiting for him to offer the desserts and tea on the table—she had already begun to reach for a plate that had never been there, but had been waiting for her. She transferred treats and tried to pour herself tea and he did it for her instead.

"I had asked you a question, do not dismiss it simply because I have decided to sit down and eat." 

"Ah," At this moment, he may have been caught by her. It might have been easy to ignore it and wait for this to end as he had already ascertained himself that she had not died. Which was a relief. She was unconscious and had fallen deeply so—he needed to check on what had occurred but for now he entertained her question and returned it back. "Is the number actually all that relevant to you, Queen of Hearts?"

It might have been a bit of a sin to be curious.

In this particular time, she did not remember anything except for the first time and he thought that it was only appropriate. Too much of a good thing was bad in the end and time took a toll on anybody—moreso her. And he may have wanted her to reach a breakthrough at this point and there was nothing more useful than a clean slate. Those were his reasons but if she wished to know, then he would like to hear it.

He waited.

Because many may have said that time waited for no one… but he would do it for her. 

There was a flicker of hesitation on her face, emotions that used to be completely ignored and hidden in a facade. When the Queen of Hearts was not blowing her top off and asking heads to be beheaded—she could be startling and scarily stone-faced. She would have done quite well in poker.

Until finally she spoke, "I don't appreciate not knowing things that could be valuable to me. And I don't like not knowing everything either—like that cloak of yours." She stood up once more and leaned towards him, "What are you hiding underneath that? Have I known before? Why can't I remember—"

Rosalyn Lockhart sighed in frustration as she sat back down. She gave him another irritated look before grabbing a tart from the dessert platform and chewing in vehemence. The Queen of Hearts was waiting for him to speak up.

Of course she would quickly pick up on the little things. 

Everything that was hidden would always unveil itself in the end after all—although in this particular event, a certain Joker was to be blamed. But he could try. And he could always turn it back to the start if necessary… but there was a positive change in this time than it had been countless times before.

He picked up his teacup and took a sip. Enjoying the taste for the moment as he considered his options, he looked at her once more. It had happened quite a long time ago… or it could have just happened moment's earlier. Even he was not immune to such an experience but he nodded at last.

"Your Majesty of Hearts, I'm not sure if this number should be disclosed—I am in fear of the repercussions." He said at last.

She frowned at him, "Repercussions?"

"Your head might explode if I were to say it."

She fell silent and perhaps after a moment, she might continue to insist on it and he would have said the number. But the pain of everything reoccurring to her mind was something he wished for her to not experience… there was only so much that she'd remember unless she wanted to end up like him or the Joker. 

"Fine. I won't ask for the number—but let me see your face instead."

He hadn't been expecting that.