Amanda in Wonderland: A Christmas Special

A lovely day

Amanda POV:

Our differences aside. I was enjoying the outside of the castle. The nature of Wonderland was unpredictable, but only a fool would deny its beauty and wonder. The vines beneath me pulsed with a steady rhythm, almost like a heartbeat syncing with mine. I still wasn’t used to being carried like this—wrapped, held, guided—as the prince cut through the sky ahead of me, wings sharp against the strange pale horizon of Wonderland. When the forest suddenly… stilled. Every branch froze. The air thickened. Even the colors dimmed, like Wonderland itself was holding its breath.

The prince stopped, so abruptly the vines jerked me forward. He didn’t look back at me when he spoke—his voice was a low, lethal whisper. "Amanda. Do not speak. Do not move." My stomach dropped. The vines reacted before I could, tightening around my waist. I didn’t know if they were protecting me or restraining me. Then I heard it. A sound like cracking ice. Like something ancient waking up. The sky split open. White light poured through the crack—blinding, shimmering, swallowing the trees in a glow so pure it made everything else seem filthy. My eyes watered, but I forced them open, and that’s when I saw it.

A dragon.

A white dragon.

Not snowy white—starlight white. Gleaming, sharp-edged scales flashed as it descended, each one catching the light like a shard of a broken mirror. Frost spiraled from its breath, drifting down in lace-like patterns that melted the moment they touched the ground.

The prince dropped to one knee mid-air, folding his wings. The vines yanked me downward before I could even gasp. The dragon with its thundering wings landed before us, wings furling into itself, before it started to shrink. My hands were so tightly restrained that I couldn't even rub my eyes to make sure that I was seeing correctly. Soon, what stood before us was a tall, breathtaking—okay, dangerously handsome—man. Long white hair fell straight down his back, clipped neatly to keep it from slipping over his face. His eyes, still carrying that unsettling dragon glow, lifted and locked onto mine.

My heart stuttered hard enough to hurt.

Oh gods.

This was worse than the dragon. Because dragons? I could fear dragons. But men like him? Men carved from moonlight and myth, men who looked like your greatest sin and your final temptation all in one? Those were the ones who ruined you. And if I knew anything or had learned anything from my shitty human existence, it was that charismatic and beautiful men always ruin you. His eyes studied me, almost as if they were peeling the thoughts right out of my skull. I could feel the heat clawing it's way up my neck and towards my cheeks. "Aragorn," said the prince, as he gave him a humble bow, "Who is this Valaron?" He asked, not taking his eyes off me. Something hummed under my skin the same way it had when the lilac powder touched me.

The prince bowed deeper. "Her name is Amanda. I brought her here, because she carries-"

"Magic," the dragon-man finished, his eyes flicking to my hands, then my stomach. His voice softened, almost curious. "Old magic."

The vines tightened again, and I swallowed hard. Old magic. Mine? I didn’t know whether to panic… or to wonder why that word didn’t feel wrong.

"And you," said Aragorn as his eyes bore deeper into me, which I did not think was possible. "I-" Before I could finish, Valaron (The Prince) spoke up, "She is my ward, Aragorn, and so my responsibility." Aragorn turned his attention towards the prince, an unpleased expression on his face. "You should have brought her straight to me." Valaron stared hard and cold at the dragon man with his gold eyes that swam with something sinister nd threathening. "I follow the laws of Wonderland, not you." Aragorn laughed, his hair unmoving as he walked towards Valaron, each step told me he was royalty. "Like I have told you before Valaron, there is no use being royalty if you don't have the balls to make your own rules." He turned to face me, and gestured with his finger for me to come to him, and without any warning the vines pulled me roughly and speedily to the front of him. He cupped my face, not in an affection-like way, more of a way in which you examined the quality of livestock, "We will see how this plays out," he said, looking at me, with his curious silver eyes, but I knew his words were directed at Valaron. He brought my hand to his lips, placing a tender kiss on them. I felt electricity in my palm.

He stepped back from me and his porcelain skin erupted into silvery-white scales that folded over each other. He lifted his arms, and they grew and extended smoothly into large white wings. He jumped up and spread his wings, emanating a great force which would have knocked me over and sent me tumbling if the vines had not held me tightly in place. Once he was gone, Valaron looked angry at me, and turned and spread his own wings. Without a word, we were returning to the castle and I couldn't help but feel that Valaron and Aragorn were not best friends.