CHAPTER 1: WHEN A BOOK ENDS.
They didn't particularly like this part of the city, they didn't particularly like the city in general, but they stood amongst the gathered crowd nonetheless. The tallest one of them lifted a scrap of paper from his pocket and held it in front of himself, reading it again. They were all impatient to leave this dark part of town, not that the rest of the town wasn't dark; the whole of this end of the world was dark and dreary this time of year. Perhaps the feel of foreboding was stirred in them because of the cruelty that marred this side of the city, the 'new arrivals' weren't treated kindly when they entered the land of the ended and were immediately locked up for sale.
He retrieved the scrap of paper and, again, held it up for inspection, the tenseness of his arm could be seen in the way the maroon purple fabric of his coat was stretched by his cords of muscle. His strong jaw was tensed in a way that revealed his stress, and his dark eyes darted from face to face rather than focusing on the scrap of paper. His large hands were gloved in leather and his head was adorned with an old maroon purple top hat that had a sad sag about it that spoke of much wear. His skin was pale, though not ghastly, and his hair was a mess of dark choppy locks. The Mad Hatter, perhaps a bit altered from much time spent in this world of the ended, stood ramrod straight, his thoughts far away, reminding himself of why he was here to begin with.
One of his two companions fidgeted and tapped her feet in impatience, wanting nothing more but to leave this crowd and begin preparing a lunch that the Hatter would devour with gusto! She was worried about him. He hadn't eaten much since his add in the weekly gazette had been answered, his head had been too full of preparations for the new companion, no time for eating or sleeping. She didn't quite understand his apprehension or his abuse of time, she found that eating saved time because it gave energy and helped you stay awake. She fiddled with one of her flop-ears dangling by her neck then felt her hair, still in check, tightly woven in a French braid. The March Hare lost herself in thoughts about the cupcakes she planned to make for the un-birthday celebration planned for that evening.
The other of the two companions stood languidly by, boredom apparent on his feline face. He was a pretty boy, with a small nose, angled eyes, perfect smile, sharp teeth and a well-muscled body that was as lean and agile as it was flexible. With his mouth no longer fixed into the crazed smile that had become his trademark, the Cheshire cat had not only changed his mannerisms but had turned into little more than a nuisance, and, according to the Mad Hatter, the biggest flirt that he had ever encountered. The cat took pride in this of course, because he was good at it, he had the face of a fallen god and he knew it. At this moment however, he was bored and wanted nothing more than to be back home lounging on his favorite cushion positioned a few feet from the fireplace, a comfortably warm distance, and the more he imagined his cushion the more impatient he became, this was a stupid idea that the Hatter had come up with anyway.
They all stood waiting, each focused on his or her own thoughts. Then the number was called, making the Hatter start a bit, the other two gave him an odd look, then peered to where his eyes were staring.
She was taller than Alice had been, but only by a few inches, her hair not nearly as perfect in color but streaked with differing shades of gold and honey, natural and wild, she wore only what was necessary to cover her in a nearly modest fashion, but little was left for the imagination, and her eyes were not the gentle kind, but a piercing blue that was deep and filled with a depth of understanding that seemed unfathomable. She wasn't the perfect porcelain doll that the three were expecting, but a wild sort of animal with a fierce beauty.
"Hatter, she's not like Alice," the hare spoke quietly, a sadness coating the words.
"No one will ever be like Alice," the cat crossed his arms and leaned back on his heels, dismay leaking from his harsh expression.
The Hatter didn't answer though, he was watching the girl, watching her cower and try to cover herself, fear apparent in every movement of her golden body. He was frozen as the bidding began, but then the chains on her ankles and wrists were jerked and she cried out, quiet but audible, and the Hatter's hand shot up, holding his bidding number high.
It didn't matter how high the bidding went, the Hatter was a well-known businessman in this city and many of the others, and he had money flowing into the bank constantly. As soon as he began bidding, the other men gave up, knowing that if the Hatter wanted something, he'd get it, no exception. The girl was led to him, limping sadly.
"Take off these horrid chains, I will not have my guests so ill used," he demanded of the hooded chain-bearer who nodded. The Hatter removed his coat and gently placed it on the girls shaking shoulders. "Come, my dear, your carriage awaits," and he placed a protective arm around her and led the way to the black carriage pulled by two black horses.
As soon as the party of four were safely tucked inside the carriage, blankets were pulled from secret compartments and were quickly adorned by the four, the three companions let out a collective sigh.
"What is this place?" the girl asked, bringing the blanket up to her chin.
"My dear, welcome to the Land of the Ended, hot chocolate?" the Hatter placed a tray with a large mug of steaming chocolate and a small bowl full of soft marshmallows on her lap.
"Thank you," she freed her arms from the blanket and gratefully picked up the warm mug. "And what do you mean?" she sipped.
"He means that your story has come to an end," answered the hare, but the girl only stared, question written upon her brow.
"It's hard to understand at first," the cat leaned back in his seat, getting comfy. "Whatever your story was, a fairytale, a fiction novel, whatever, if you were a character created from the authors imagination you end up here when the story is finished," he yawned attractively.
"I'm imagined?" she looked alarmed. "I'm not real? How is that even possible?"
"It doesn't really matter that you were someone's imagination, now you're here and you can make yourself whoever you want, you no longer have to follow the plot," the hare had her own cup of chocolate now, plopping little marshmallows into the frothy brew.
"So… I'm not the warrior princess really? I don't have to die?" she asked shyly.
"No! you certainly don't! You may do whatever you like," the Hatter spoke quickly, alarmed that such a delicate girl had been in such a terrible storybook.
She nodded, thinking. "May I ask your names?" she smiled timidly, a ray of sunshine in this dreadful land, leaving all three companions speechless for a moment.
"I am the Cheshire cat!" ever the dramatic king recovered first, he stood, the blanket pooling at his feet and bowed before the golden girl. "But you may call me Chesh, because I haven't thought of a better name for myself yet," he winked and shot her a very wicked grin that was handsome in a dark sort of way.
"Sit down you idiot! What would happen if we suddenly hit a bump in the road?" the hare demanded. "I am the March Hare, you can just call me Bunny though, I don't want to be called a hare," she smiled sweetly.
"And I, my dear, am known as the Mad Hatter in the story, Hatter by everyone who knows me as a businessman and-" he was cut off by the grinning cat.
"Maddy by everyone who matters to him!" he stuck his tongue out at the hatter, and then laughed.
"Not true! I told you to call me Matt if you have to call me something other than Chapelier!"
"The only people who call him Chapelier are the servants, they call him Monsieur Chapelier though, and little Bunny here is madly in love with him so she does whatever he tells her," Chesh put an arm around Bunny and nuzzled her neck, which made her blush ten shades of red in a matter of seconds.
"You scathing minx! Get your crawls off me! He's really such a fat liar," she laughed uncomfortably, trying to shove the forward cat away from her.
"I'm not fat, Bun-buns," he pouted and let her push him away; he had got what he wanted, one girl blushing and the other giggling.
Completely ignoring the two idiots sitting on the opposite bench, the hatter leaned toward the girl, "You may call me Chapelier, or Monsieur, whatever you like. What may we call you my dear?"
"My name is Aurelie, you may call me that I suppose," she smiled, and it was like the summer sun was shining on the hatter's face, warmth invaded his visage and a soft blush adorned his cold cheeks. When the girl began sipping her chocolate again the hatter took a deep breath and he was seemingly back to normal again.
"Maddy! Are we almost there?" Chesh whined, grinning stupidly.
"You idiot! you can just look out the window and see for yourself! You imbecile, you know where we live!" Chapelier burst out, waving a fist at the annoying cat.
"Whether we're close to home or not isn't important, if you two keep fighting, you," Bunny pointed at Chapelier. "You will forget to be courteous, you have informed Madame Aurelie about where she is, now what?" she sat back, waiting expectantly.
"Oh! Yes, yes," he turned to Aurelie. "My dear, now that you know that you may be and do whatever you want, may I ask a favor of you?" his dark charcoal colored eyes were filled with a smile as Aurelie nodded. "Will you please remain with us for a time? We would enjoy your company and I think you may find us rather enjoyable after a time, perhaps. You may leave at any time, whenever you have discovered what you would like to do with your life here, but until then, will you remain with the three of us?" at some point during this little speech, Chapelier had taken Aurelie's hand in his own.
Aurelie's face broke into sunshine once again, "Of course!" she squeezed Chapelier's hand. "You have saved me from whatever that dreadful market was, and you have treated me with such kindness, how can I refuse so sweet an offer?"
"You two are a complete bore…" Chesh yawned. "So formal it makes me sick, can't you act like real people?" he closed one of his bright blue eyes.
"We are real people! You common nuisance!"
"That's the best you can come up with? Boring!" he closed his other eye.
"Incompetent fool!" Chapelier roared.
Chesh began snoring.
"I'll have his head! Driver, fetch my axe!" he stood from his seat, his blanket falling to the floor.
"Oh no Chapelier! Calm down, you're ruining my cocoa time!" Bunny cried.
And to the astonishment of all three of the oddities, Aurelie was laughing, tears pooling at the corners of her eyes she was laughing so hard. The brightness of her happiness flooding the carriage with a lovely warmth. Chesh had opened his brilliant blue eyes and stared at the golden girl, Chapelier stood stone still gaping at her beauty, and Bunny's face was screwed into a mix of sheer delight and the inability to control her tears.
"Oh!" Bunny flung herself from her seat and clung to Aurelie. "You're so cute! So cute!"
"And you all are hilarious," Aurelie hugged Bunny, both girls clinging to each other as if they had known each other their whole lives.
"Can I get in on this?" asked the very crude kitty cat now beside the two girls.
"Of course!" Aurelie pulled the boy into the embrace and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
Unprepared for the acceptance and the kiss, Chesh colored a bright shade of purple and made a funny sort of noise in his throat that sounded like a mix between someone choking and a loud gulp.
"Oh, I'm sorry Chesh, was I squeezing you too hard?" Aurelie let the hug go, no longer supporting Bunny, she slid to the floor, and no longer clinging to Chesh, he still sat a close distance to her.
"Not hard enough," he coughed.
"What sort of story did you come from?" Chapelier asked abruptly, catching everyone in the carriage off guard.
"Don't be rude," Bunny pushed herself off of the floor and sat back down on the bench across from the other three.
"Yeah, don't be so demanding!" Chesh threw his arms around Aurelie protectively. "Hey, I hurt my bottom lip, you should kiss it better," he smiled evilly and winked.
"Oh, naughty," Aurelie tapped his nose with her finger, then extricated herself from his grip. "A tragedy I suppose, myself being something of a comic relief character I guess…"
"You put things together quickly," Chapelier scooted closer to her, eying the leering cat with distrust.
"Some things, now that I'm viewing my life in that book as nothing more than a story I can see it… pretty clearly. I don't think I'm ready to explain it though, do you mind?"
"Of course we don't!" Bunny interjected.
And at that point the carriage stopped, and Chapelier opened the door and jumped to the cobblestone road below, holding the door open for the others. Chesh slinked out, stretching his arms and legs, Bunny stumbled out close behind him, nearly treading on his tail. Aurelie peeked out the door, suddenly shy again, clutching the hatter's maroon coat tightly to her scantily clad body. Chapelier reached a hand up to her and helped her down from the carriage, and quickly led everyone to the shuttered hat shop.
Aurelie looked up and down the cobblestone street in awe; the little brick houses were situated so closely together, some even on top of each other their shapes and sizes varying vastly. But her glimpse of this world was cut short by the closing of the hat shop's door. It was too dark to see, but she felt the hatter's hand one her shoulder guiding her through the darkness.
