The Nutcracker Prince and The Mouseking

Chapter 3: The First Battle

Moonlight seeped through the crack in the thick curtains, sprawling out over the floor and creeping up the bed. The house was quiet, save for the ticking of the clocks and soft snoring. The moonlight laid on Clara's face, she stirs, and blinks open an eye. She groans, sitting up and rubbing her eyes, straining to see the rest of her room in obscured darkness. A black and white kitten, who had a distaste for strangers and was never seen at the party was curled up in a ball at the end of her bed. Clara wonders what had woken her and goes to close the gap in her curtains with another thought tugging at her mind. This thought prevailed. With a slight smile, she slips on some slippers and a dressing gown, and heads downstairs. The shadows casted by the moonlight were long and gnarled, the familiar halls of her home became warped, even the Christmas tree looked like a shaggy monster in the dark.

Just as she reaches to pick up the Nutcracker, the clock strikes twelve, the resounding bong causing her to jump and through the reflection in the glass doors of the cabinet was a familiar figure merging out of the owl on the clock. Grey hair, an eyepatch, and a dark cloak all a transparent, ghostly blue,

"Uncle...Uncle Drosselmeier?" Clara just barely whispers. Holding the handle of the glass doors so tight her knuckles were white. Drosselmeier grins, shifting and throws out his arms, golden glitter flying from them and landing everywhere all over the living room. As it settles with a slight fizzing, mice start to pop up from behind the coffee table, the chairs, underneath the toy cabinet and the tree, massing into a large army by the rug. Her attention is snatched away to the sudden sound of voices. Looking back inside the cabinet, Trudy and the others had come to life, talking, and moving on their own!

Julie is desperately trying to wake the groaning Nutcracker, stirring as if trapped in a nightmare,

"Wake up! Wake up!" she cries with a thick southern accent. Stamping her foot on the shelf repeatedly in frustration. Trudy walks over and dismisses Julie with a wave. She bends down to the Nutcracker, and he awakens with a scream, coiling back with wide eyes and panting heavily. Trudy goes back to soothe him,

"Now, now dear, it's alright," she says warmly,

"Wh- where am I?" he asks in a trembling voice, gazing around him and his face going pale. Trudy puts a hand on his arm, and he screams, rushing back so much and falling off the bed,

"What are you!" he cries, unsteadily getting to his feet. Julie tuts,

"Goodness gracious you don't even recognise your own kind! How disrespectful!" she exclaims, turning her nose up at the terrified Nutcracker,

"What are you?" he asks with a much steadier voice, holding onto the metal headboard of the bed. Julie groans,

"We're dolls of course! So are you!" she states angrily. The Nutcracker pauses, his face pale and agape,

"I'm not a doll," he retorts,

"Oh, well look for yourself!" Julie snaps, handing him a mirror. He grasps the mirror, and his eyes are glued to the reflection. Fluffy hair peeking out of a tall cylindrical hat, the strap going under his chin. Glossy painted eyes and blush, a small cylinder nose, a doll like pair of lines running down from his mouth, a scarlet soldiers jacket with orange pauldrons, white belts, scarf and elbow length gloves, blue trousers, shiny black boots, and a lot of stiff wooden joints. He drops the mirror with a shuddering gasp and falls.

Trudy goes to soothe the poor Nutcracker again, now sobbing incoherently,

"I- I- the last thing I remember is the show directors giving us gold walnuts...and then- and then there were mice everywhere, I think I trod on one and it bit me?" he splutters, shaking his head and shrugging. Clara overhearing everything speaks up,