Winter Bingo: Card Two, Column Five
Comfort For The Soul
Prompt: hallelujah
Time Period: Post-"Secundus," pre-epilogue, right after Victor's parents disown him
Notes: This one was kind of tough for me – I come from a very non-religious family, so I always feel a bit weird when writing about religious figures and such. However, religion is a (very minor) part of Victor's life, and I figured he'd be seeking out some of this sort of comfort post-Going Creative. The First Church of Steam is the main church of Secundus, being open to EVERYBODY – even Touched and those classified as Inventions. I wanted to show it and its owner, Father Gale, as someplace comforting. I hope it comes off correctly.
The First Church of Steam was quiet today. Normally there would be some sort of activity, even if it was only a parishioner dropping in to ask a question or confess his sins. But today it was just Father Gale and the benches. He was dusting behind the pulpit when he heard the door open. He looked up to see a pale, thin figure slouch inside. “May I help you?” he asked, putting down the duster.
The young man started. As he looked up, Father Gale realized it was Victor Van Dort. He’d only started coming to the church recently, but it was impossible not to recognize that face. Not after it had been in the papers so much. “Oh! I’m s-sorry, I didn’t realize – I’m n-not interrupting, am I?” he asked, twisting his tie and not quite meeting Father Gale’s eyes.
“Nothing but a bit of cleaning,” Father Gale assured him as he walked closer. “Certainly nothing that can’t wait for another time.” He tilted his head, studying Victor a moment. The young man seemed incredibly nervous. And there was an exhausted look on his face that spoke of rough times in the recent past. “Is there something you needed?” he asked gently.
Victor remained silent for a few minutes. Then, slowly, he looked up. “My parents – they just–” He stopped, blinking a few times. “I’ve been disowned.”
Father Gale felt a wave of sympathy for the poor boy. “I’m sorry,” he said, reaching out to put a hand on Victor’s shoulder.
“They don’t want a – a m-mad son,” Victor continued, the words seemingly coming easier now that he’d started. “Don’t want the shame, don’t want the scandal. . . .” He fell silent for a moment. “M-Mother said I was p-probably damned,” he added in a whisper.
Father Gale struggled a moment to keep from showing the anger that statement caused in him. Why was it so many people were so willing to condemn others just for a quirk of genetics? Before he could speak, though, Victor went on. “Pastor Galswells – he’s in charge of the church at home – would say the same. All of Burtonsville probably thinks Touched are in Satan’s thrall. And now I – I’m–” Victor’s breathing became shaky as his hands began to tremble.
Father Gale frowned, concerned. He knew the warning signs of a possible breakdown. “Would you like to sit down?” he offered gently.
Victor nodded, and they took their seats on a nearby bench. “I don’t even know why I’m upset,” he said, once he’d steadied himself a bit. “I had no intention of ever returning to Burtonsville. I love it in Secundus. I have things here I never had at home – friends, love, inspiration. . . .” He shook his head. “But – but–”
“But you’re losing a rather large part of your past,” Father Gale said understandingly. “I’ve seen this before. Young Touched, new to the life, realizing things will never be the same. . .and parents who don’t understand. . . .” He lightly squeezed Victor’s shoulder. “You are never alone. Always remember that.”
Victor smiled. “I know. I’m very lucky. My friends have been so good to me. And Alice – she’s honestly the best thing to ever happen to me.” He looked down, becoming somber again. “I just – I suppose I am h-having trouble adjusting to the n-new order. To – w-what I am now.”
“It’s only natural,” Father Gale told him. “Things will get better, though, I assure you. And no matter what happens, you will always have a place here.” He gently raised the young man’s head. “God loves you, Victor, no matter your mental state. You are not damned.”
That got another, bigger smile. Victor looked like he’d had a weight lifted off him. “Thank you.” He paused, then added, “Is it a sin to say I like you much better than I ever liked Pastor Galswells?”
Father Gale chuckled. “Maybe a very minor one – but we’ll let it pass.”
On The Edge
Prompt: stressed
Time Period: Post-"Secundus 2," toddler Chester era
Notes: Sorry for the darkish fic, but I felt it important to point out somewhere that Atypical Scientific Neural Disorder isn't all it's cracked up to be. Yes, for the most part it's a good thing for the characters, but it does make one insane. Bad days are a given. And sometimes, I just want to write angstful Victor.
Don’t give in don’t give in don’t give in
Victor clutched at his scalp, feeling his fingernails digging into the skin. Today – today was a bad day. He’d had an inkling that it was going to be when he woke up, but he’d only caught the full brunt of it when he entered his laboratory. Absolutely nothing about his latest experiment was going right. His formulas were all wrong, he’d spilled a batch of chemicals he needed, and the moth he’d been trying to alter had escaped and was currently hiding somewhere. The stress and frustration had just kept building up and building up, making his brain snap and spark and burn, and now he was reduced to squeezing his head as hard as he could to keep it from exploding.
He whimpered, wishing that the terrible headache assaulting him would go away. It felt like a physical representation of his madness, clawing at the back of his eyes, trying to chew its way out of his skull. Normally, he didn’t have a problem with being Touched. The Creativity that filled his head was gentle, joyous, fun – most of the time. But then there were days like this, days where the madness whispered dark and painful thoughts that he didn’t want to hear. Atypical Scientific Neural Disorder gave so much to its sufferers, but it took from them as well. He had the ability to do things no sane scientist could, but in return he had to spend days like this hunched over his experimentation table, clinging desperately to sanity while below him, the abyss beckoned. Victor knew he should get up and find his wife – Alice could somehow quiet the madness, put it back under his control – but he couldn’t get himself to move. He felt that if he moved, he’d upset some sort of balance, and he’d be lost forever in the swirl of Creativity. So instead he dug his nails into his hair and prayed she’d come looking for him.
A sudden tug on his pants leg caught his attention. Victor managed to turn his head enough to see his two-year-old son looking up at him with worried eyes. Victor felt his stomach do a nervous flip-flop over everything else. God, he’d never wanted Chester to see him this way, never wanted him to know the pain he sometimes went through. . . .
Chester stared at him a moment longer. Then he held up the snack he’d somehow procured. “Cookie, Daddy?”
Victor had no idea what caused it – the fact that Chester had inherited Alice’s green eyes, the simple compassion of the gesture, or maybe even the absurdity of being offered a cookie while in the midst of fighting off a mental breakdown – but he felt the pressure in his head ease. He promptly reached down and swept his little boy up into a hug. He rocked himself and Chester together, almost crying in relief as sanity slid back in and took over again.
This was why he’d never give in to the madness. There was far too much to lose.
Tea Fixes Everything
Prompt: stollen
Time Period: Post-"Secundus," Victor's first Christmas there
Notes: I had to look this prompt up – as Doc explains below, it's basically a specific German version of fruitcake. Once I knew what it was and its origins, I managed to build a story around it involving Doc and Marty – I wanted them to appear more in these prompts. And, for the record, Doc's usually a better cook than this.
“Victor! Alice! Glad you could make it!”
Victor grinned as he reentered the tiny flat where he’d spent his first turbulent months in Secundus. “Well, we were hardly going to pass up an invitation to tea from some of our dearest friends,” he pointed out. “Alice and I made some cookies for the occasion.” Alice held up the wrapped plate.
“Great, thank you,” Doc said, accepting it. “They should go nicely with the stollen.”
Victor and Alice both blinked. “The what?” Alice said, frowning in confusion.
“The fruitcake,” Marty said, leading the way into the little sitting room.
“It’s a Germanic variation,” Doc explained, as Victor and Alice took their seats. “A loaf-shaped cake filled with dried fruit and covered with sugar. My family used to have it as a kid. I decided to go ahead and give it a whirl myself this year. Getting back to my roots, so to speak.”
“Oh. Well, I look forward to it,” Victor said with a smile.
The others arrived not long afterward, and the group shared a pleasant (if slightly crowded) tea. After everyone had eaten their fill of sandwiches, the cookies and Doc’s stollen were laid out. “All right, let’s see how this is,” Doc said proudly, picking up a knife and cutting into the cake.
Or, at least, he tried to. He frowned as he sawed away at the crust. “Hmmm. It should be – well, it appears I may have overcooked this a little.” He tried putting more pressure on the knife with a grunt. “Damn it, I don’t remember making this out of cement. . . .”
“Here, allow me,” Alice said, pulling out the gleaming Vorpal Blade. The impossibly sharp knife sliced through the hard cake with ease. Alice cut a little wedge out, then looked around. “Anyone want to try it?”
“I would, but I’m a little nervous about breaking my teeth on it,” Marty admitted. “No offense, Doc.”
“None taken,” Doc said with a sigh. “Look, no one has to eat my mistake, the cookies should be enough for everyone. . . .”
“A true Touched never shies away from a challenge,” Richard said, peering at the wedge. “Besides, all we know for sure is that it’s hard. It might taste just fine. Now, how does one make a cake softer?”
Victor’s eyes fell on Burnie the teapot, who’d followed his master to the party. “I have an idea,” he said, taking the wedge onto his plate. “Burnie, could you come here and pour some tea on this?”
Burnie scuttled over and obligingly soaked the slice of stollen. Victor allowed the tea to sink in for a moment, then tried his fork on the cake. It cut easily now, allowing him to taste a bit. He chewed it thoughtfully. “Actually, yes, this is pretty good,” he allowed, as the others watched him. “I think the tea adds to it, in fact.”
“Tea adds to everything,” Richard said with a proud smile.
“I’m certainly not going to debate that in this case,” Doc said, laughing. “Mind taking care of the rest of the cake, Burnie?”
Just Like You
Prompt: glitter
Time Period: Post-"Secundus 2," young children era
Notes: I swear, I think up new ideas for Victor-made butterflies way too often. But who could resist? You can sort of consider this a prequel to Not Alone – don't know how this ended up that way, but it just felt right.
“Daddy? Is it okay to visit?”
Victor turned toward the door of the conservatory/laboratory with a grin. “Yes – in fact, I’d like you to come in. I have something to show off.”
Lorina grinned back and pushed open the door. She and her brothers made their way to the workbench, past the twining flowers and bits of scientific apparatus Victor kept on hand for his experiments. “What have you made this time?” she asked as she, Vincent, and Chester formed a semicircle around their father.
Victor proudly picked up the bell jar and book holding his latest Invention and brought it around to show his children. “What do you think of this one?”
The children gasped in delight as the butterfly fluttered around its tiny glass prison. “Oh, look at the wings!” Lorina said in little more than a whisper. “They’re all sparkly!”
“It looks like it’s covered in glitter,” her twin Vincent agreed, pressing a finger against the glass.
“It seems to be shedding glitter too,” Chester noted, seeing the circle inside the bell jar was covered in tiny sparkles.
“The result of wing scale overproduction,” Victor said. “I’m not sure if I actually want to correct it or not. People might enjoy following butterflies that leave a trail like that.”
“Doesn’t that mean things that eat butterflies can find it easier too?” Chester pointed out.
“True – that’s why I made it bad-tasting to predators,” Victor said with a half-smile.
“You make all the neatest things, Daddy,” Vincent said proudly, causing Victor to blush.
“Children! Victor! Time for lunch!”
“Oh dear – you’d better go wash up,” Victor said, setting the book and bell jar down. “I’ll be with you in a moment – just have to make some final notes and set my little friend free.”
The children nodded and headed back for the door. Lorina lingered a moment behind her brothers. “You really do make wonderful things, Daddy,” she said brightly. “I hope I grow up to be just like you.”
Then she left, not noticing the brief, torn expression of pleasure and fright on Victor’s face.
Come And Join The Dance
Prompt: Dancer
Time Period: Sometime after "Secundus"
Notes: I actually did a whole series of Victor/Alice dancing-themed prompts in 2010, so I was quite proud of myself for coming up with something even slightly original for this one. I always liked the idea of Victor being an excellent dancer, as long as he's with someone he loves. The title is from a lyric in "The Lobster Quadrille," my favorite song in any version of Alice In Wonderland. (Also, yes, there was a Queen of Hearts there already before the incident – remember how in the story it's implied the tentacled one had corrupted already-existing Card Guards?)
Victor had never considered himself much of a dancer. He disliked balls simply because they were always so crowded. His nerves always seemed to get the best of him among large groups of people – he was constantly worrying about etiquette and correct form and all those other fiddly things that society said he should worry about. That fueled his clumsiness, and inevitably, if anyone deigned to dance with him, he ended up tripping or stepping on their foot or otherwise looking like a fool. When it came to dancing, Victor much preferred to be the wallflower.
But, like so many other things, that changed when he came to Secundus. When he, Victoria, and Emily were introduced properly to the Chess and Card people of Wonderland Park, the Queens of Heart, Red, and White declared that there should be a ball to welcome their newest friends. Victor immediately became extremely nervous – how on earth could he dance in front of all those strangers? He didn’t want to look like an idiot in front of his companions, and especially not Alice.
But when the ball actually happened, he discovered something about Wonderlanders – they didn’t give tuppence for traditional etiquette or correct form or any of that other nonsense. They just wanted everyone to have fun. By the time Alice urged him out onto the floor to try the Lobster Quadrille, Victor was feeling relaxed enough to actually go ahead and attempt it.
And, to his astonishment and delight, despite this quadrille being rather more energetic than any other he’d tried, he didn’t misstep once.
Prompt: hallelujah
Time Period: Post-"Secundus," pre-epilogue, right after Victor's parents disown him
Notes: This one was kind of tough for me – I come from a very non-religious family, so I always feel a bit weird when writing about religious figures and such. However, religion is a (very minor) part of Victor's life, and I figured he'd be seeking out some of this sort of comfort post-Going Creative. The First Church of Steam is the main church of Secundus, being open to EVERYBODY – even Touched and those classified as Inventions. I wanted to show it and its owner, Father Gale, as someplace comforting. I hope it comes off correctly.
The First Church of Steam was quiet today. Normally there would be some sort of activity, even if it was only a parishioner dropping in to ask a question or confess his sins. But today it was just Father Gale and the benches. He was dusting behind the pulpit when he heard the door open. He looked up to see a pale, thin figure slouch inside. “May I help you?” he asked, putting down the duster.
The young man started. As he looked up, Father Gale realized it was Victor Van Dort. He’d only started coming to the church recently, but it was impossible not to recognize that face. Not after it had been in the papers so much. “Oh! I’m s-sorry, I didn’t realize – I’m n-not interrupting, am I?” he asked, twisting his tie and not quite meeting Father Gale’s eyes.
“Nothing but a bit of cleaning,” Father Gale assured him as he walked closer. “Certainly nothing that can’t wait for another time.” He tilted his head, studying Victor a moment. The young man seemed incredibly nervous. And there was an exhausted look on his face that spoke of rough times in the recent past. “Is there something you needed?” he asked gently.
Victor remained silent for a few minutes. Then, slowly, he looked up. “My parents – they just–” He stopped, blinking a few times. “I’ve been disowned.”
Father Gale felt a wave of sympathy for the poor boy. “I’m sorry,” he said, reaching out to put a hand on Victor’s shoulder.
“They don’t want a – a m-mad son,” Victor continued, the words seemingly coming easier now that he’d started. “Don’t want the shame, don’t want the scandal. . . .” He fell silent for a moment. “M-Mother said I was p-probably damned,” he added in a whisper.
Father Gale struggled a moment to keep from showing the anger that statement caused in him. Why was it so many people were so willing to condemn others just for a quirk of genetics? Before he could speak, though, Victor went on. “Pastor Galswells – he’s in charge of the church at home – would say the same. All of Burtonsville probably thinks Touched are in Satan’s thrall. And now I – I’m–” Victor’s breathing became shaky as his hands began to tremble.
Father Gale frowned, concerned. He knew the warning signs of a possible breakdown. “Would you like to sit down?” he offered gently.
Victor nodded, and they took their seats on a nearby bench. “I don’t even know why I’m upset,” he said, once he’d steadied himself a bit. “I had no intention of ever returning to Burtonsville. I love it in Secundus. I have things here I never had at home – friends, love, inspiration. . . .” He shook his head. “But – but–”
“But you’re losing a rather large part of your past,” Father Gale said understandingly. “I’ve seen this before. Young Touched, new to the life, realizing things will never be the same. . .and parents who don’t understand. . . .” He lightly squeezed Victor’s shoulder. “You are never alone. Always remember that.”
Victor smiled. “I know. I’m very lucky. My friends have been so good to me. And Alice – she’s honestly the best thing to ever happen to me.” He looked down, becoming somber again. “I just – I suppose I am h-having trouble adjusting to the n-new order. To – w-what I am now.”
“It’s only natural,” Father Gale told him. “Things will get better, though, I assure you. And no matter what happens, you will always have a place here.” He gently raised the young man’s head. “God loves you, Victor, no matter your mental state. You are not damned.”
That got another, bigger smile. Victor looked like he’d had a weight lifted off him. “Thank you.” He paused, then added, “Is it a sin to say I like you much better than I ever liked Pastor Galswells?”
Father Gale chuckled. “Maybe a very minor one – but we’ll let it pass.”
On The Edge
Prompt: stressed
Time Period: Post-"Secundus 2," toddler Chester era
Notes: Sorry for the darkish fic, but I felt it important to point out somewhere that Atypical Scientific Neural Disorder isn't all it's cracked up to be. Yes, for the most part it's a good thing for the characters, but it does make one insane. Bad days are a given. And sometimes, I just want to write angstful Victor.
Don’t give in don’t give in don’t give in
Victor clutched at his scalp, feeling his fingernails digging into the skin. Today – today was a bad day. He’d had an inkling that it was going to be when he woke up, but he’d only caught the full brunt of it when he entered his laboratory. Absolutely nothing about his latest experiment was going right. His formulas were all wrong, he’d spilled a batch of chemicals he needed, and the moth he’d been trying to alter had escaped and was currently hiding somewhere. The stress and frustration had just kept building up and building up, making his brain snap and spark and burn, and now he was reduced to squeezing his head as hard as he could to keep it from exploding.
He whimpered, wishing that the terrible headache assaulting him would go away. It felt like a physical representation of his madness, clawing at the back of his eyes, trying to chew its way out of his skull. Normally, he didn’t have a problem with being Touched. The Creativity that filled his head was gentle, joyous, fun – most of the time. But then there were days like this, days where the madness whispered dark and painful thoughts that he didn’t want to hear. Atypical Scientific Neural Disorder gave so much to its sufferers, but it took from them as well. He had the ability to do things no sane scientist could, but in return he had to spend days like this hunched over his experimentation table, clinging desperately to sanity while below him, the abyss beckoned. Victor knew he should get up and find his wife – Alice could somehow quiet the madness, put it back under his control – but he couldn’t get himself to move. He felt that if he moved, he’d upset some sort of balance, and he’d be lost forever in the swirl of Creativity. So instead he dug his nails into his hair and prayed she’d come looking for him.
A sudden tug on his pants leg caught his attention. Victor managed to turn his head enough to see his two-year-old son looking up at him with worried eyes. Victor felt his stomach do a nervous flip-flop over everything else. God, he’d never wanted Chester to see him this way, never wanted him to know the pain he sometimes went through. . . .
Chester stared at him a moment longer. Then he held up the snack he’d somehow procured. “Cookie, Daddy?”
Victor had no idea what caused it – the fact that Chester had inherited Alice’s green eyes, the simple compassion of the gesture, or maybe even the absurdity of being offered a cookie while in the midst of fighting off a mental breakdown – but he felt the pressure in his head ease. He promptly reached down and swept his little boy up into a hug. He rocked himself and Chester together, almost crying in relief as sanity slid back in and took over again.
This was why he’d never give in to the madness. There was far too much to lose.
Tea Fixes Everything
Prompt: stollen
Time Period: Post-"Secundus," Victor's first Christmas there
Notes: I had to look this prompt up – as Doc explains below, it's basically a specific German version of fruitcake. Once I knew what it was and its origins, I managed to build a story around it involving Doc and Marty – I wanted them to appear more in these prompts. And, for the record, Doc's usually a better cook than this.
“Victor! Alice! Glad you could make it!”
Victor grinned as he reentered the tiny flat where he’d spent his first turbulent months in Secundus. “Well, we were hardly going to pass up an invitation to tea from some of our dearest friends,” he pointed out. “Alice and I made some cookies for the occasion.” Alice held up the wrapped plate.
“Great, thank you,” Doc said, accepting it. “They should go nicely with the stollen.”
Victor and Alice both blinked. “The what?” Alice said, frowning in confusion.
“The fruitcake,” Marty said, leading the way into the little sitting room.
“It’s a Germanic variation,” Doc explained, as Victor and Alice took their seats. “A loaf-shaped cake filled with dried fruit and covered with sugar. My family used to have it as a kid. I decided to go ahead and give it a whirl myself this year. Getting back to my roots, so to speak.”
“Oh. Well, I look forward to it,” Victor said with a smile.
The others arrived not long afterward, and the group shared a pleasant (if slightly crowded) tea. After everyone had eaten their fill of sandwiches, the cookies and Doc’s stollen were laid out. “All right, let’s see how this is,” Doc said proudly, picking up a knife and cutting into the cake.
Or, at least, he tried to. He frowned as he sawed away at the crust. “Hmmm. It should be – well, it appears I may have overcooked this a little.” He tried putting more pressure on the knife with a grunt. “Damn it, I don’t remember making this out of cement. . . .”
“Here, allow me,” Alice said, pulling out the gleaming Vorpal Blade. The impossibly sharp knife sliced through the hard cake with ease. Alice cut a little wedge out, then looked around. “Anyone want to try it?”
“I would, but I’m a little nervous about breaking my teeth on it,” Marty admitted. “No offense, Doc.”
“None taken,” Doc said with a sigh. “Look, no one has to eat my mistake, the cookies should be enough for everyone. . . .”
“A true Touched never shies away from a challenge,” Richard said, peering at the wedge. “Besides, all we know for sure is that it’s hard. It might taste just fine. Now, how does one make a cake softer?”
Victor’s eyes fell on Burnie the teapot, who’d followed his master to the party. “I have an idea,” he said, taking the wedge onto his plate. “Burnie, could you come here and pour some tea on this?”
Burnie scuttled over and obligingly soaked the slice of stollen. Victor allowed the tea to sink in for a moment, then tried his fork on the cake. It cut easily now, allowing him to taste a bit. He chewed it thoughtfully. “Actually, yes, this is pretty good,” he allowed, as the others watched him. “I think the tea adds to it, in fact.”
“Tea adds to everything,” Richard said with a proud smile.
“I’m certainly not going to debate that in this case,” Doc said, laughing. “Mind taking care of the rest of the cake, Burnie?”
Just Like You
Prompt: glitter
Time Period: Post-"Secundus 2," young children era
Notes: I swear, I think up new ideas for Victor-made butterflies way too often. But who could resist? You can sort of consider this a prequel to Not Alone – don't know how this ended up that way, but it just felt right.
“Daddy? Is it okay to visit?”
Victor turned toward the door of the conservatory/laboratory with a grin. “Yes – in fact, I’d like you to come in. I have something to show off.”
Lorina grinned back and pushed open the door. She and her brothers made their way to the workbench, past the twining flowers and bits of scientific apparatus Victor kept on hand for his experiments. “What have you made this time?” she asked as she, Vincent, and Chester formed a semicircle around their father.
Victor proudly picked up the bell jar and book holding his latest Invention and brought it around to show his children. “What do you think of this one?”
The children gasped in delight as the butterfly fluttered around its tiny glass prison. “Oh, look at the wings!” Lorina said in little more than a whisper. “They’re all sparkly!”
“It looks like it’s covered in glitter,” her twin Vincent agreed, pressing a finger against the glass.
“It seems to be shedding glitter too,” Chester noted, seeing the circle inside the bell jar was covered in tiny sparkles.
“The result of wing scale overproduction,” Victor said. “I’m not sure if I actually want to correct it or not. People might enjoy following butterflies that leave a trail like that.”
“Doesn’t that mean things that eat butterflies can find it easier too?” Chester pointed out.
“True – that’s why I made it bad-tasting to predators,” Victor said with a half-smile.
“You make all the neatest things, Daddy,” Vincent said proudly, causing Victor to blush.
“Children! Victor! Time for lunch!”
“Oh dear – you’d better go wash up,” Victor said, setting the book and bell jar down. “I’ll be with you in a moment – just have to make some final notes and set my little friend free.”
The children nodded and headed back for the door. Lorina lingered a moment behind her brothers. “You really do make wonderful things, Daddy,” she said brightly. “I hope I grow up to be just like you.”
Then she left, not noticing the brief, torn expression of pleasure and fright on Victor’s face.
Come And Join The Dance
Prompt: Dancer
Time Period: Sometime after "Secundus"
Notes: I actually did a whole series of Victor/Alice dancing-themed prompts in 2010, so I was quite proud of myself for coming up with something even slightly original for this one. I always liked the idea of Victor being an excellent dancer, as long as he's with someone he loves. The title is from a lyric in "The Lobster Quadrille," my favorite song in any version of Alice In Wonderland. (Also, yes, there was a Queen of Hearts there already before the incident – remember how in the story it's implied the tentacled one had corrupted already-existing Card Guards?)
Victor had never considered himself much of a dancer. He disliked balls simply because they were always so crowded. His nerves always seemed to get the best of him among large groups of people – he was constantly worrying about etiquette and correct form and all those other fiddly things that society said he should worry about. That fueled his clumsiness, and inevitably, if anyone deigned to dance with him, he ended up tripping or stepping on their foot or otherwise looking like a fool. When it came to dancing, Victor much preferred to be the wallflower.
But, like so many other things, that changed when he came to Secundus. When he, Victoria, and Emily were introduced properly to the Chess and Card people of Wonderland Park, the Queens of Heart, Red, and White declared that there should be a ball to welcome their newest friends. Victor immediately became extremely nervous – how on earth could he dance in front of all those strangers? He didn’t want to look like an idiot in front of his companions, and especially not Alice.
But when the ball actually happened, he discovered something about Wonderlanders – they didn’t give tuppence for traditional etiquette or correct form or any of that other nonsense. They just wanted everyone to have fun. By the time Alice urged him out onto the floor to try the Lobster Quadrille, Victor was feeling relaxed enough to actually go ahead and attempt it.
And, to his astonishment and delight, despite this quadrille being rather more energetic than any other he’d tried, he didn’t misstep once.