((Just so you know, none of the characters are based on what I would like them to be in a Alice in Wonderland fic. For example, I love AlicexHatter, not White QueenxHatter. I just put them as characters I thought roughly fit their personality or was too bored to put as something else. I am very familiar with Alice in Wonderland (having seen any movie available and having read Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass several times) but it might not show very well.))
Laughter, squeals, shouts; the sounds of the festival were loud. Smiling people, some dressed in white, some not, spoke happily to one another. They watched the clowns, flame and sword eaters, stilt-walkers, and acrobats as the performers stood in colorful outfits, doing their acts. Children weaved through the crowd, playing with the toys that were given out by some carver. Young couples danced to a fiddle on the grass in an open area.
The White Queen sat on a checkered blue and white blanket on a small hill, overlooking the festival before her. Her chestnut hair fell comfortably down her back, with a white ribbon tied into her hair with a pair of pink flowers, over the white dress she wore. It was strapless with a corset that was tight to her, her knee-length skirt fanned out over her legs that were curled girlishly to prevent anyone from looking up it. She wore a pair of white flats that were decorated with pearls around the edges.
Sitting next to her, on the grass so that he didn't mess up her dress, shoes, or blanket, was a hatter. He had blonde hair and blue eyes, but a cocky, annoying look in those eyes too. His features didn't suit him to say the least. He wore a brown suit that had a bit of pink and blue in the argyle vest. A top hat rested on his head, scarves wrapped around it to form the band and several pins and measurements poked out from beneath the scarves. He held a watch in his hand that told day, week, month, and year, but he wasn't looking at it. He was staring lovingly at the beautiful young queen to his left.
"Gilbert, one day you have to make me a hat. Okay? Yours are the best in our world of Wonderland," She giggled.
"My dear queen, I'd be honored to make you all the hats you want," He said with a grin. "Are you really reliving Miss Alice's words, though?"
The queen gave him a wry look, "Call me by name, Gil. And yes, little Alice was so sweet. Even if she did mishear things a lot. I do know that it's Underland, silly. I'm surprised you and your friends, the March Hare and the Dormouse, put on that strange "mad" act for her. You aren't mad."
He laughed, "Yeah, Francis and Antonio enjoyed it. The poor girl didn't know what to do! Playing mad wasn't so hard though."
The White Queen smiled at her friend, the friend that had been with her even before she became the queen of the land of White. He smiled back at his queen, his dear friend. They loved each other, of course, more than friends should. Gilbert's expression grew nervous as his true feelings leaked from his heart into his mind.
"Liz, I lo-" He began. He never finished though. Suddenly, instead of the happy aura and laughter that came from the town, screams of terror sounded out. Both the queen and the hatter turned quickly to the direction of the town to see the horror. They stared silently at the red.
Red card soldiers stomped into town, their lances readied. The Black Knight led them, his hand at his sword, and in full armor. The bandersnatch roared, sat back on it's haunches, sniffed the air, then hurtled itself in their direction. The most terrible of all though, was the jabberwocky. The colossal bird screeched and circled the town, spewing flame down on the citizens as the red army marched forward, their suits flame resistant.
Elizabeta stood up and started forward, to run to the aid of her people, but Gilbert grabbed her hand and pulled her back, standing up himself. "You don't have anything to fight with. The worst thing you could do is get yourself killed. Live to fight another day!"
"But my people! My friends! They're dying!" Tears fell from her eyes.
"Then I'll go, I have a sword after all," the hatter said, pulling a sword from the sheath at his hip.
"No! I won't have you hurt!" The queen pulled the sword from his hands and flung it away from him. At that exact moment, the bandersnatch leapt up from behind the hatter and pinned him to the ground with a massive paw. It's jowels dripped with drool and it shivered from the cardio. The monster kicked the hatter away, sending him into a tree. The bandersnatch bit into the White Queen's dress and carried her away screaming as the hatter sat limply against the tree.
After a few minutes, he was able to gather himself and stagger to the town. He had several broken ribs, a broken arm, and his right shoulder was dislocated. His legs could barely hold him, but he managed down to the town. Fire blistered his skin and stray bullets grazed him, but he felt nothing. Tears fell down his eyes as he watched what he lost. His love, his friends, his country...all dashed and taken in one way or another by the Red Queen.
His lungs burned from the smoke and his eyes went fuzzy. The hatter's body pitched forward, falling to the ground. He was out cold surrounded by dead bodies and fire.
Gilbert woke up to the darkness of night, smoke hazed out most of the stars and the light of the moon made it look like a blue-black fog above him. His entire body ached as he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his watch. It read that it was two o'clock in the morning, eight days after the festival. The month and year hands spun crazily and the glass of it was cracked, so obviously it was broken. He looked around, wondering how much time had really passed.
He looked at the hand that held the watch, it was covered in dried blood and was slashed open. The hatter frowned, wondering how that happened when the swirling of purple-ish smoke made him look up. He spotted his hat amidst the smoke and sighed. The hat was so tattered that it needed immediate patching, and it was his absolute favorite. His dear, lost queen had even complimented it.
The smoke swirled into the figure of a man and solidified. The man wore a lavender suit with violet stripes and his blonde hair and the hatter's hat partially hid a pair of cat's ears that matched his suit. A wispy tail twitched idly behind him as a huge grin grew on his cheeks. "Why, is that you, hatter?"
Gilbert growled. He hated the Cheshire Cat with all his heart. "Of course it is, Arthur. Who else would it be?"
"Well, I don't know. You just don't look like the git I know."
"What?"
"Just look in a mirror," the cat tossed the hatter a hand mirror and chuckled.
Gilbert peered into the mirror, disturbed by his sight. His hair was no longer blonde, his eyes no longer blue, and his skin no longer healthily caucasian. Instead of blonde, his hair was a shiny platinum, that at the moment was filthy and had bits of dried blood in it. His baby blue eyes were now a bloody red. His skin looked pale, almost unhealthily so.
"What the actual fuck?! Did you use your freaky cat-fairy magic on me or something?"
"Don't flatter yourself, twat." The cat said, scowling for once.
As he looked into the mirror, the hatter began to laugh. He laughed harder and harder until he was out of breath. When he was finally able to stop he looked around him and smiled crazily, looking at the piles of dead and the pools of blood that were everywhere. He looked at the burned, charred remains of houses and people and the occasional triangular red flag with a black heart in the center.
What a wondrous thing, he thought. All of the black and red is a nice change, but I prefer white. I really do like white. Red is a bit sickening actually. I don't like red. No red. NO RED! Before he knew what he was doing, Gilbert was tearing at the flags and covering the blood with dust and grass. He looked at himself again and found himself sitting under a spigot in the middle of the ruined town, washing the blood off roughly until his skin was raw.
After he was drenched, yet cleaner, Arthur handed the hat over and laughed as the hatter put it on, stroking the brim like an old friend. The laughing echoed strangely as the cat became smoke again, leaving his strange grin for last. The smile drifted away on the wind, popping into thin air a few moments later. Gilbert grumbled a good riddance and went to find his house.
He found it an hour later, not recognizing it at first, but it surely was his home. 394 Raven Desk Ave. had been a colorful house, painted pastel pinks, blues, greens, and yellows in splatter paint. It had been a beautiful Victorian style house, it even had a turret! He used the downstairs turret room as a workshop, and the large open room at the front of the house was his shop. The back portion of the lower floor was a parlor and a library. Upstairs was a large bathroom, a master and guest bedroom, a kitchen, and a small dining room. The backyard was beautiful too. It had held a small pond that the fish 'n' chips lived in. A large oak tree and a garden that was home to butterflies and rocking horseflies as well as a few dragon snaps, baby's breath, and many others. There was also a long table that he had held many tea parties at, even the one that befuddled poor Alice.
Now, however, the house was very different. The colors were dulled, burnt, and splattered with a bit of blood. There was a gaping whole in the side of the house that led into the parlor and another on the top floor that was open to the guest bedroom. He could see that most of his things were broken and battered, yet he didn't care. His shop was ransacked, the hats were trodden on, bending them out of shape. As he proceeded, he saw that china cabinets were turned over and books were flung onto the floor. He looked out the hole in his parlor to the backyard, seeing that the tree was a bit singed, but fine, and the fish 'n' chips were fine too. The garden was in terrible shape though, most all of the flowers were dead and the insects looked nervous still.
Laughter bubbled up again, then sheer anger. Red. Red was on his walls. On his floors. On his hats! He moved quickly, grabbing the red things that could be moved and tossed them in the street. He lit them on fire and watched the red smolder into black and smiled as it turned into ash, just as the white had. Gilbert went to a hardware store that was mostly burnt and found several cans of white paint, smiling a strange, almost Cheshire, smile as he walked home. It took him a very long time, but eventually the outside was painted white, then the inside walls. He cleaned and painted the house until there was no possible speck of red. And then he was happy.
For weeks afterward he collected white things in his library. He removed the books and stacked them in his parlor, ignoring them and the history of the time that was before. The before-time was something he wished to forget. The before-time hurt his head when he thought of it, so he didn't he wanted was to wallow in the white things and think how clean, pure, and beautiful the things were, and always would be in his opinion.
Nineteen cracked plates, forty half-broken teacups, nine lace doilies, four old dresses, seven silk ties, seven pawns, two rooks, a knight, and a queen, a couple of White Kingdom flags that he had cleaned up, a torn stuffed bear, a party hat, seventeen assorted fabrics of ribbons, two strings of pearls, a large sheet, two porcelain dolls, a sword with a white hilt, a bonnet, some lillies, and of course, the ring that Gilbert would have proposed with, if given the chance. His collection grew daily.
Every day he would go into the yard and sit at the table for hours. He would speak to the Dormouse and the March Hare, his very best friends. The friends he didn't realize had gone from the place. The friends that remained were a dead mouse that sat in a broken yellow teacup, and an orange plush rabbit, that was missing an ear, that he had made a small hat for. He would talk to them, and they would talk back, telling him things that he didn't know and asking riddles.
Some days he would sit alone in his room and stare quietly at the white wall and think of her. Elizabeta, his queen, his friend, his one and only love. His lost girl. Some days he would sit in the street and yell at the signpost at the intersection of Raven Desk Ave. and Hodgepodge Way, asking it to tell him why a Raven was very much like a writing desk, but of course it didn't answer. Some days he would go about the town with his white sword and stab anything red. Even if it was a dead body.
One day, whilst Antonio the Dormouse was asleep in his cup, as he spent most of his time, Francis the March Hare began a conversation. "My dear hatter, you seem to be quite mad."
"Oh shut it, bunny. You don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't I? You stay here in the ruins, waiting. But waiting for what?"
"For it to end. For her to come back. For the people to get off the ground. For you two to start acting normally again," the hatter responded.
"None of that will happen if you stay here."
"Then what should I do?" He asked curiously.
"Go to the Red Qu-"
"Do not say that bitch's name! That bloody, bastard, red bitch will not be spoken of!" He roared, sheer hatred in his eyes.
"Go to the bitch's castle and get our queen back. Things will start to get normal after she is back, surely."
"What should I do there? I'm sure that they won't simply give her back."
"Get captured, then pick the lock in your cell. Find her and get her out of her cell, then get away through the sewers."
"Yes...YES! I wish I had thought of that!" Gilbert smiled triumphantly and got up, turning to leave. "Thank you-" As he turned back around, he halted. No one was there. Only one dead, and one stuffed animal.
"Huh...I wonder where they went in such a hurry," he said with a smirk.
He had a few days to prepare for the journey, as he saw it. He gathered food from a bakery, rather, he scavenged what wasn't burnt or completely hard as a rock at that point. Gilbert sharpened his sword as best as possible and readied his boots for a long trek. On the day he was supposed to leave, he found the prize of his white things. It was the ribbon that Elizabeta had been wearing when she was taken, but he didn't remember that. All he remembered was the warmth of someone important attached to that ribbon. He tied the ribbon around his wrist and smiled at it, then slung his backpack across his back and tied his sword to his hip.
Setting off, he felt his head ache, as if something was pulling at him. His mind didn't want to leave the safety of the town, the town that everything was timeless in. Muttering about the bloody Red Queen, he proceeded through the forest. Every once in a while he would come upon places where Red troops had camped or places they had tore down. Once he found those places, he would make a shrine of white things he would find around and then move on.
One day, he sat staring at his watch by a creek as the fish 'n' chips swam through, hopping into the air with their potato-y goodness. He had tried to fix the clock with butter, peanuts, stones, mashed potatoes, chewing gum, and a carrot. None of it worked. He wanted it fixed, he thought that if he fixed it then he would be able to move on with his life and get things done easier without the strain of thinking about the before-time.
He reached the castle within a few days and hid in the trees, scoping out the card guard's schedules. After two days of that, he snuck through a gap in surveillance and into the castle. Keeping low, he searched the grounds, knowing that the Red Queen quite enjoyed croquet. Eventually, he found the garden where they played, barely avoiding a two and six of hearts who were painting white roses that once again had been misordered. The Queen was standing amidst her horde of followers who were looking extremely uncomfortable.
She spoke shrilly to them, swinging her flamingo to hit the hedgehog hard in the head, which sent the poor thing across the garden. It hit the tree above him, making the small animal fall into Gilbert's lap. He untied it's little feet quickly and sent it on it's way, the tiny thing waved a goodbye as it fled. Gilbert decided to make his move.
He sprung up from the bush he was hiding in and dashed toward the Red Queen, drawing his sword. Swiftly though, card guards stacked themselves in front of her in a wall, blocking his way. He stabbed two and slashed one in half, but the Black Knight had suddenly pinned him against the ground with his lance. Gilbert struggled and cursed, kicking at anything red, and there was a lot of it.
"Death to the bloody Red BITCH!" He screamed.
"Oh that's right, the hatter. You were ever so close to my dear sister, were you not? OFF WITH HIS HEAD," the queen screeched.
Card guards dragged him off to the dungeons to wait for his execution, knocking him out in the progress. He could still feel the sensation of being pulled along the floor, getting colder and colder as they went down into the sub-basement. It was extremely painful, but that didn't matter.
The hatter woke slowly on a cold cobblestone floor that was covered in some places by wet straw. He sat up so that he was leaning against the wall, which was equally cold and hard. His throbbing head felt like he had the mother of all hangovers, except without ever getting drunk. it was dark in the cell, despite the flickering torches that burned in the corridor outside of it.
Gilbert was trying to get up to explore the cell when he felt the severe stab of pain in his temples and shoulder. It was so bad it felt like he had been stabbed with the Black Knight's lance rather than his boot. "Sh-shit...SHIT!" He cried out, clutching his head and gritting his teeth in pain.
Something stirred on the other side of the dark cell. Soon, that something sat up and stared with glinting green eyes that flashed in the fire light at him. The white rags she was wearing were stained with brown dirt and red blood. The light brown hair was messy and filthy, but the something ran their fingers through it with a silent determination. The something stood wearily and walked nearer with a regality, carefulness, and posture that he found familiar.
That something, "someone" as he had realized by now, spoke in the voice that he had been ever so desperate to hear again. "Who are you and what did you do to deserve this place? You're wearing a white cloak, so you were one of my subjects, but I do not seem to recognize you..." She trailed off into a pondering silence.
A mad laugh bubbled past his lips as he spoke, "I'd guess not, my queen. I've changed quite a bit since our last meeting."
"Wh-who-?" The White Queen stuttered.
"It is wonderful to see you are not hurt too badly, my queen. Your hatter awaits your command, but I suppose he can't do much without answers to his riddles, which are always very boggling. They make everything in my mind go wobbly and that's no good, is it? Like, why a raven is like a writing desk. I am absolutely positive the two must be alike in some way, but I can not think of one similarity. What a problem, eh? You can not have a stupid hatter though, it simply won't do. So I'll think it out some more and give you an answer that will knock your socks off!" He lowered his gaze to her feet, "but you aren't wearing socks...hmmm...what a strange turn of events...does this mean that my pondering has already knocked them off? Or does it mean that I can not possibly make you surprised about this subject...hmmm..."
"H-hatter? Gilbert?! Is th-that you? But you're so...so..." She bit her lip, not knowing how to put it.
"My queen, we have no time! The longer I stay in one place, the worse the headaches get. So we have to get going," he pulled a set of lock picks from his pocket. Slowly, he managed to struggle his way to the barred doors. He took even longer to pick the lock, but once he did the door swung inward, creaking loudly.
Elizabeta offered no help in any of it, only staring at the man that she used to know. His transformation was complete in every way. He looked completely different, his eyes shone with a crazy light, his face looked sunken, and he looked demonic and stained. This wasn't the man she had loved. The queen in her looked for someone to set her free, it didn't matter who. The girl in her was terrified by the man and didn't want to trust him.
The hatter looked back at her, "You can go now."
"You aren't going with me?" She asked incredulously.
Gilbert shook his head with a small smile on his face, "No, I'd only slow you down. I want you safe, I can't have you getting caught just because I went off on another twist of my mind."
"How dare you! You're one of the Red Queen's servants who's pretending, aren't you!? You're trying to lure me away so that I'll get beaten by guards!" A look of anger crossed her face as she yelled.
He flinched, then a look of sheer fury fused into his expression. "Do not mention that bloody bitch of a queen...she doesn't deserve to live, and I'd kill her with my bare hands in a heartbeat if I got the chance." His face softened to a look of pain, "Please...please...Liz, I beg of you. Save yourself! I'm beyond help...my head's a mess and I don't deserve to be around you...I want you to live and be happy."
"Explain to me what you've been doing then. Why now?"
"I woke up in streets where people were dead. Then I went home and made everything white, because white is the prettiest color. Then I did a lot of different things. I had tea parties with Antonio and Francis...wait...did I? I think they were there...maybe..." He looked so confused that it looked painful.
"But why now? It's been three months, Hatter! Why would you decide that now was the time to act?"
Gilbert looked up at her, aware that she was using only his title because she was afraid of him and wanted to distance them. "I painted my house white, and it was wrong. I painted every flower and bug in the garden white, and it was wrong. I made sure that everything I wore was white, and it was still wrong. Everything was lonely and sad and wrong and...I wasn't happy at all, even though everything was a pretty white.
"So I thought and I thought. What made me happy in the before-time? I decided that it was you, because you're pretty and the most amazing person I knew. So I wanted to find you. But when I got here...I realized I shouldn't be around you. I'm afraid I might be mad, my Queen, and you shouldn't be around a Mad Hatter. SO I'll stay and be executed, and you can go and save the kingdom. It's for the best because the headaches are getting worse and worse and worse and worse and worse..." he continued on like that in his murmurings.
She knelt next to him and held his trembling hand. He looked like he was about to cry, something that her Gilbert never did. The Queen brushed his near-white hair from his eyes and kissed hit forehead lightly. "Shhhh...if we get back to the White Kingdom, the headaches will stop, and you'll be fine."
"But I'm mad, you shouldn't..." Gilbert suddenly realized that she had kissed him. The tender gesture, although only to his forehead, seemed to light a way in his mind. "Why are you still here? Why haven't you left yet?"
"Because you're my friend, Hatter. And let me tell you something, you may be mad, but the very best people are." She stroked his cheek softly and made him look into her eyes. Fear and a huge amount of empty thought, that's what she saw there. "I'm not leaving you here, no matter what you say. You are one of my subjects, and you are dear to me, so I will not let you die."
"But-"
"No but's! Get up, we have to go," Elizabeta stood and tugged at him arm, helping him stand.
The Hatter stood and sighed, knowing that she wouldn't let him stay even if she had to drag him out. He fished two little bottles out of his coat pocket and handed one to her. "Drink it."
Without asking questions, she did. Soon her body was retracting into itself like a telescope and she was only six inches high. She watched at her new miniature size as Gilbert gulped his down and soon he was the same. Their clothes were more than a bit roomy though, so he grabbed an end of her dress and set to work with an overly large needle that was pinned to his hat, creating a proper new dress for her. One that fit perfectly and looked beautiful. When working on his own, out of some of the white scarves he had recently tied around his hat for the band, it was just as well.
Soon, Elizabeta was pulling on a dress that came to her knees. It was more fit for running than her last dress and it wasn't symmetrical in any way. Gilbert was wearing a suit that looked sort of similar to the one he'd been wearing, but it looked off...like someone's rendition of something after a few drinks.
He cupped his hands around his mouth and bellowed, "Chess! Come out you damn cat!"
Swirling purple smoke billowed from the ceiling outside the cell, and soon Arthur's full head was in view. "You called, Hatter?"
"Carry our things back to my house?"
"I'm not your bloody bell boy, git." The cat replied quickly, the smoke rippling angrily around his head.
"Please, Chess?" Gilbert pleaded, his red eyes twitching from cross-eyed to not. He hated asking nicely from the annoying cat.
"What will I get if I do? Don't get me wrong, I love the queen...but why should I have to carry her clothes?"
"What do you want?" He relented.
"Let me borrow your hat for a week! You won't ever make me a hat, so let me have yours for a while," Arthur eyed the hat hungrily.
"How about I finally make you one then? When I get back, I'll make you a hat that'll be perfect for you. I see you in a bowler..." Gilbert rambled off something about measurements and picking out the perfect color and some other hat-like things, letting his eyes rest on the expansive floor.
Arthur's entire body came into view, a huge smile on his face. "Good. I'll do it then. You might want to hurry though," his ear twitched. "They're readying the guillotine."
As the cat disappeared, Elizabeta grabbed her mad friend's hand and began running. Out into the corridor, and into the sewer. They sloshed through the surprisingly clean water for a while, getting exhausted and drenched, but finally they popped out into the moat that surrounded the castle. Heads bobbed around in the water, and sadly, they had to jump from one to another to make it to dry land.
They heard yelling from the edge of the forest, and were surprised to see some familiar faces. The March Hare, the Dormouse, and the White Knight stood arguing furiously. Gilbert gripped her hand a bit tighter, making Elizabeta look back at him. His face was pale and scared. He didn't know if they were real or not, she realized. Her hatter had begun to doubt himself, ever since he was confused about who had convinced him to come rescue her.
Elizabeta smiled softly and whispered to him soothingly, "I see them too, do not worry." After that, he visibly relaxed. They crept through the grass, they didn't exactly want to run up to their friends if they had no idea what they were arguing about, now did they?
"Come on, we have to find them!" Francis said, he was clearly irritated by the conversation.
"I know, Hare, I know! I of all people want to burst in, save my queen, and be the hero, but...we're only three people." Alfred, the White Knight, looked up at the large castle and the card guards that patrolled it.
"But we finally know that Gilbert's alive! We thought he had died at the attack for months!" Antonio said, a frantic look in his eyes.
"Chess told us that he went to save the Queen. Alone. So if he's brave enough to go alone, we can do it with three!" Francis yelled.
"Maybe if we get Chess, the Tweedles, the Catterpillar, the DoDo, and Bayard..."
"Bayard is sick, the DoDo died a week ago from infection, and the Tweedles are cowardly!" Shouted Francis.
"Please, Alfred, we need to do this. Gilbert was living in town for so long! Chess says he's mad..." Antonio's worry was so plain that it broke Elizabeta's heart.
When she looked over to where Gilbert was, she saw that he was checking his watch. He began to shake it upsettedly, muttering as he did. "Why won't the hands move? What broke you so, clock? What did it?" He stroked the poor, broken watch with a dirty finger.
She stepped cautiously over to him and took it from him carefully. "Let me see if I can fix it, okay?" He nodded in response and watched her with wide eyes. She turned it over and over in her small hands. The glass was cracked, sure, but it looked fine. She remembered suddenly what Gilbert had given her the day before the festival that long time ago. A watch key.
He had told her at the time that sometimes he forgot to wind his watch, and he would feel stuck in time. But he knew that she would come along and she would always set him straight at everything, so he figured she should keep his time straight too. She had put the tiny watch key on a chain around her neck, but it wasn't with her now. The problem was evident though. The tiny clock just needed to be wound.
So she searched the surrounding ground for a proper stick, and once found, she shoved it into the hole and turned it several times with some effort. She picked up the watch again and handed it to him. The clock began to tick, making a huge smile appear on the Hatter's face. It was a smile from his "before time", one without a dose of madness tainting it.
"It's time we said hello to them, don't you think?" Elizabeta asked gently.
He nodded and took her hand, leading her back to where their friends were arguing. None of them looked down, not even when they were right under them. So Gilbert picked up a rock and threw it hard at Alfred's breast plate, making a loud bell-like toll. The three looked down at the two in confusion, but the confusion soon changed to beaming.
"You made it out!"
"Why yes they did." Chess said, appearing in the air beside the knight, dropping their clothes on the ground.
Gilbert rummaged through his clothes, obviously searching for something. A look of confusion appeared on his face for several moments before Elizabeta intervened. "What're you looking for?"
"The cake! I know I put a box of it somewhere...just the right amount of it too...Oh, right! Where's my mind? Obviously, it's...here!" He exclaimed, pulling a box out of the band of scarves in his hat.
Opening the box, he handed her a serving and took out his own. Pausing right before his bite, he looked at her. "We might wanna step into our bigger clothes, because these will rip. Rip, rip, rip, rip!" He sang as he stepped into his clothes and bit into his portion. He grew until he filled out the clothes again and waited for her to do the same, and she was only an instant behind him.
Once Gilbert was big again, Francis and Antonio tackled him with a hug. "Dammit, we thought you were dead, Gil!" Francis said.
"Killed by the Bandersnatch," Antonio added.
"Well I wasn't," he said. His voice far away as his thoughts grew cloudy. "Oh, do you guys know why a raven is like a writing desk? I need a solution to the riddle..." He paused again as he thought it out.
"Oi, quit it with the catch-up! Get back to town so I can get my hat," Arthur said. He stomped his foot in mid-air, looking miffed.
"Mon amour, you may be right," the French rabbit said. His tawny ears twitched slightly as he looked closer at the reddening cat. Chess was always embarrassed when his lover talked like that...outside the bedroom.
"I'll meet you there," he mumbled. The cat disappeared, reappearing and disappearing further and further down the path into the forest, every once in a while he glanced back at the group.
"My queen...has Gil been like...this the whole time you've been with him?" Antonio asked, glancing at Gilbert. Gilbert, at this point, was sitting on an overly large toadstool, and was singing lowly.
"Twinkle, twinkle, little bat!
How I wonder what you're at!
Up above the world you fly,
Like a tea-tray in the sky.
Twinkle, twinkle, little twinkle!
You don't squeak the soling tinkle.
Twinkle, twinkle,
Twinkle, twinkle, little bee!
Twinkle, twinkle,
I am so glad it isn't me!
Twinkle, twinkle, little gnat!
How I wonder what you're at!
You are very small indeed.
You can banish up my sleeve.
Up my sleeve. Up my sleeve
You can banish up my sleeve!"*
"Yes, he has. Mostly, anyway. Sometimes he'll get serious, and sometimes he seems scared of himself, but mostly he seems like a child," Elizabeta replied to him, her eyes watching her Hatter.
He laughed a crazy laugh and let his eyes widen and soften as he stared at bread-and-butter flies, snap-dragon flies, and rocking-horse flies. The flowers on the edge of the forest stood a bit taller and sang the song back to him in harmony, making it a beautifully mad song. Gilbert spoke with them and told them stories. As he was about halfway through The Walrus and The Carpenter**, a pair of twins ran hand-in-hand up the lane.
It was the Tweedles, much to the happiness of Antonio and Elizabeta, who had missed them. They were both merely a foot tall now, but usually they were taller. Tweedledum was looking rather grumpy as usual, and for good reason since Tweedledee had broken his new rattle. Tweedledee was usually bright and cheery, but he looked terrified at the moment since the largest crow you have ever seen was chasing them.
As they got closer, Alfred slashed at the low-flying bird with his sword, clipping one of it's wings so it would fall. The Tweedles kept running until they were appropriately hiding behind their taller companions. Feli Dee behind Elizabeta and Lovi Dum behind Antonio. They stared at the bird for a few moments before reemerging. The knight handed the Tweedles a proportional piece of cake, and they grew to their usual heights.
Feli embraced his dear queen and sobbed into her shoulder, he had missed her so much. Everyone had really, since no one had seen the Queen, except for Chess who would relay messages. Lovi was promptly glomped by Antonio, who hadn't seen his little tomato in ages because they were all on the run from the Red Queen's card soldiers. Dum flushed red and hugged back carefully, having secretly missed Antonio too.
Gilbert suddenly stood up and began walking vaguely in the direction of the town. In his hand he gripped the watch, holding it to his ear so he could clearly hear the ticking of time pass. He was only acting now, so he wouldn't have to talk to people about his head. As soon as time had restarted on his watch, it had done the same in his mind. He was moving forward again, and he wasn't mad.
What he wasn't was happy.
What he was...well, it was different. He couldn't explain the feeling of lost anger and confused love that welled deep within him, and he didn't feel like talking about it.
The group followed far behind him as he walked, talking about his madness. He could hear them, because of the wind, but they couldn't hear him. He spoke about his love of Elizabeta and white things. He spoke of his watch. He spoke about what he wanted to do when he got back to his home. Somehow he began to feel less weighted and his mind was focused on the future instead.
Gilbert removed his hat and pulled off the scarves. He shoved them into his pockets and stopped right on the outskirts of town, still holding his hat. Somehow, he knew that it had to go. It would always remind him of his madness if he didn't. So started a small fire and burnt it, watching the ashes drift into the sky, promising himself a better one.
Once it was halfway burnt, he walked into town. Chess met him a few moments before he turned onto the street that led to his house. The cat followed him into his house, into his workshop, and watched him as he worked. He started making hats, and soon hours had passed. All of his friends, besides Chess, didn't dare approach the house. It was a terrifying sight, every bit of it was tainted with a little piece of madness.
Chess waited and waited as the Hatter worked, knowing somehow that he hadn't yet made the one for him, although there were at lease twenty made now. Some cloth was dyed lavender, and Chess watched as his hat began to be made. In the end, it was a lavender bowler with a violet band. A few pins stuck into the side of the band, keeping a perfect bow in place on the back. It was perfect, thought Chess, as he picked up his new hat and settled it on his head. Another smile lit Arthur's face as he left the house, leaving the other man alone.
He began creating more and more, never stopping. His fingers bled, so he had to start wearing bandages around his quick moving fingers as he worked. Gilbert made more than hats for once. He made clothes too. Suits, ties, sashes, shoes, dresses, and all sorts of undergarments. The Hatter didn't know why he couldn't stop, but it just felt right to him.
When he wasn't working on hats, he was taking down all the white. Restoration on the house's structure came soon after. Then he fixed the furniture inside and cleaned up. There was no place for excessive red or white in his shop, but instead he used them both. They were just colors now, he thought. Revenge wasn't on his mind, hats were. Hats and clothes and furniture and his watch.
A replacement hat hadn't been made yet. For some strange reason, he just didn't feel like making one. Sometimes he would miss it of course. He would always miss it, but he would never miss the madness. His hat had experienced the madness, and so it had to disappear. Disappear along with the rest of the Mad Hatter. He wanted to become just a hatter. But no one else treated him as just a hatter.
When he went out to get things, they would stay and watch from a distance. No one speaking to him, only staring to see if he was stable. He became alone again, but he didn't let it drive him mad. He embraced his time alone and let his work consume his life until every shelf was full of hats and ribbons. He filled racks with clothes and boxes with shoes. It was enough clothes for an army, or an entire ball.
The Hatter didn't go into his work shop one day, he felt that it was wrong to go there that day. Instead he dressed and grabbed a box that he had set aside and a walking stick that he had made. The walking stick had taken a long time, and it was the only one of it's kind. The carved wood seemed to swirl and stop in unusual places, and in it's own way it was mad. Gilbert walked out of his house, and out of the town, and into the forest. He walked for a very long time and very very far until he reached a doorway.
Gilbert stared at the door, and it opened. A little girl appeared, just as Alice had done, and she stared at the strange looking man in front of her. "What is your name?" She asked.
"My name is Gilbert, and I'm a hatter. You may call me Gilbert, or Hatter, I don't care which. And what is your name, my dear?" He answered.
"Lucinda Frowsley, but my mum just calls me Lucy, so you may too." The little one said.
Lucy had a pair of big blue eyes that were lit with the same curiosity and desire for adventure as Alice's had. They also showed the same caution and confusion, which wasn't abnormal. Her chestnut hair was long, so it was pulled back into a french braid that had a white ribbon worked in. The little girl's dress was tangerine and she was wearing a silver necklace with a cursive "K" on it.
"What's your mum's name, Lucy?" He asked curiously and sat down next to an unusually large toadstool.
The little girl sat next to him a moment later and examined his walking stick while she spoke. "Alice. Her maiden name was Alice Kingsley."
"I knew an Alice. She was like you, but she had blonde hair and a blue dress. I pretended to be mad when she was around."
"You don't look mad. Mummy told me all about these dreams she had when she was younger. She told me about a Mad Hatter, and a White Queen, and a Cheshire Cat. Lots and lots more characters and scary things she had to deal with." Lucy looked up at the Hatter with a peculiar expression. "You're that Hatter, I know you are."
He smiled, "I am."
"So where am I?" She said, looking around.
"Your mother called it Wonderland, but it's not so wondrous to the people who live here."
"No, I wouldn't think so. I think that you might think that England is wondrous if you came up the rabbit hole with me," Lucy said.
"Yes, I rather think I would. What drove you to come down anyway?"
"My mum told me all about Wonderland, so I wanted to see if it was true. I came down when she fell asleep under the tree."
"Clever little thing," Gilbert said. "Would you like to see more of Wonderland? I could take you back to town to meet some of your mother's old friends. They've cleaned up the town so it looks really nice."
"Yes!" She exclaimed and hopped up. Gilbert stood too and took her hand, leading her along the winding roads to the town. As they walked, he told her more of what had happened in Wonderland and how the people were in his perspective. He told her that he really had gone mad for a while, but he was better now.
When they reached town, Arthur's smokey body swirled into view. He floated in air in front of Lucy. "Ooh, and who is this?"
"My name is Lucy Frowsley. My mother's name was Alice." She said as she curtsied.
"The Alice? How nice to meet you Lucy." Chess bowed low to her and then disappeared into smoke to go tell the others.
"Gilbert, can we go to your house?" She asked, retaking his hand.
"Sure," he replied and led her through the town.
When they reached his house, they entered through the shop door and she stopped dead. Then she squeeled and ran throughout the store, looking at all of the hats. "Can I try some on? These look amazing, Hatter!"
"Sure you can, just sit down in front of the mirror and I'll pick some out for you."
She did what he said and waited. He came back after a moment with three hat boxes. He pulled the first out and set it on her head. It was a frilly white bonnet with a silk baby blue ribbon and a trio of the same blue color flowers adorning the top.
"Hmmm...I don't think blue is your color, it's more of your mother's." The Hatter said, looking in the mirror with her.
She looked at herself carefully, "I think you're right. It is a lovely hat though."
The hatter gave her a small, yet pleasant smile and took the hat back. He placed another atop her skull and paused to look at it. It was a short, violet, circular hat with a tricorn brim. A thick band of a vibrant orange wrapped around the middle which was tied in a bow, several beads looked like a flower as they poked out the center of the bow, and a pair of waning orange feathers were attached to the side, but they leaned clear across the top.
"This one looks nice, but I think it's a bit adult for you. Someday this will look wonderful on you." Gilbert commented, then looked at her again.
She tilted her head to the side and examined it, "Yes, I think you're right."
"Next then," the Hatter said and picked it from her head. The third was another circular hat, but this time the brim was also and it was peach with a barely visible checkered pattern on it. The satin band was in a soft yellow with a pair of paper flowers attached to the side. A long solitary white feather stuck out the back, coupled with a white netting that toppled over the sides. The hat was cocked to the front-right of her cranium, shielding just a bit of her bangs and eyebrows.
"Oh my..." Lucy trailed off as she stared at the hat. She loved it.
"Do you like it?" Gilbert asked, gauging her reaction in the mirror.
She grinned, "It's amazing!"
"Would you like it?"
"I...I didn't bring any money," She said, a faint blush appearing on her pale cheeks.
"That's no problem. I find your company charming, and that's enough for me. Think of it as a gift between friends," said the Hatter.
That was when the door of the shop banged open and Gilbert's friends piled in. Elizabeta halted as soon as she passed the thresh hold. The Hatter couldn't tell if she was staring at him or the mountain of hats behind him, or even Lucy, who was standing next to him, still peering in the mirror to admire her hat. The others were quite obvious in their stares. The March Hare and the Dormouse were staring at Gilbert. Chess was staring at the abundance of hats. The Tweedles were staring at the girl. Alfred was staring at the shop, which he remembered had been so messy and destroyed.
Dee couldn't restrain himself, so he ran up to the girl and embraced her. "Ah! You look a lot like your mother! How are you?"
Lucy giggled and hugged back, "I'm great, and you?"
"Wonderful!" Feli replied with a bright smile.
Dum held back, looking warily at Gilbert now. Gilbert was merely smiling at the overjoyed little girl. "I wanted to meet you all so much!" She said, turning to the group. "Hatter told me so much about you all! And he gave me this hat, isn't it pretty?" She chattered, showing off the hat with a cheerful smile.
"It's gorgeous, dear. It's been so long since I've been around one of Gilbert's hats." Elizabeta said.
"I know, Gil told me that too. He told me lots and lots of clever little things about Wonderland." She turned back to Gilbert to speak, "Oh, Hatter, we should definitely have a tea party now that everyone's here! That would be ever so fun. Don't you think?" She spun around to look at the group.
They all nodded in agreement, so Gilbert showed them to the garden as he got the tea and cakes ready. Lucy brought light back into their eyes and made them all smile. The Hatter watched them all from a window and his heart shuddered slightly as he did. He felt like an outsider. Lucy, he saw, was touching the brim of her hat every couple of minutes, as if to check if it was still there. She was remembering him.
He needed a hat. The thoughts of a new hat burned into his mind, and before he knew it, he was in his work room creating one. A top hat had already been started, so he worked with it until he loved it. It was a comfortable brown top hat, shaped with a corset-like tying that ran from the top to the brim, with a large patchwork band around it, ending in a perfect bow at the back. A pair of short colorful feathers were tucked within the band, along with a pin that looked like the hand of a clock. He put it on, then walked out to the party with the tea and snacks.
Lucy helped him place everything where they needed to be, then sat to the right of his seat, the head of the table. At the other end was Elizabeta. She was avoiding his gaze, so he eventually stopped looking at her and focused on the little girl to his right. She was the only one who seemed okay with talking to him.
Gilbert began to feel anxious and edgy, so he checked his watch. He needed to know how long it had been since they had come. He bit his lip when he saw that the pocket watch was no longer ticking. He felt stuck again, and his head started aching dully again. The Hatter didn't want to go back to that, he didn't feel in control of his body or mind.
"Hatter? Do you need your watch wound?" Lucy asked, touching his hand gently. His eyes flicked to her and he nodded. "Where's your watch key then? I'll do it for you."
Elizabeta pulled the key out from under her shirt and pulled the key's necklace from around her neck. "Here it is Lucy," the Queen said with a smile.
The little girl ran to the other side of the table, took the key, and ran back. She twisted the key in the hole several times, looked at the clock with an interest, then handed it back. Gilbert relaxed as soon as he saw the smallest hand tick on the clock. He wasn't stuck, he was moving forward. He was with the daughter of Alice, and Elizabeta was free. He wasn't stuck.
The party proceeded without any trouble, and his old friends warmed up to him. Elizabeta stared from across the table now, but now he avoided her gaze. He was embarrassed about being almost stuck again. Soon the party ended and Gilbert was to be Lucy's escort back up the rabbit hole. He handed her the new hat and took her hand, and soon they were walking along the path to the hole.
When saying goodbye, Lucy merely embraced him tightly, kissed his cheek, and said, "My dear Hatter, I won't ever forget you. You must try your best to stay sane, and that means being with the White Queen. Goodbye, I shall miss you. Perhaps I'll come visit sometime."
"I'd enjoy that," he responded with a smile. "Goodbye, Lucy."
She stepped onto the platform and suddenly she was shot through the air, all the way up the rabbit hole, out of Underland. Gilbert turned to head back to his shop after a minute of watching the space where she had disappeared. When he reached the shop, he discovered that Elizabeta was sitting in the same seat before the mirror that Lucy had occupied hours before. Strewn around her were various hatboxes, all open since she was trying every single one on.
"Having fun?" Gilbert asked with a cocked head and a raised eyebrow.
The Queen, who hadn't noticed him coming in, jumped at his voice, then calmed almost instantly and smiled. "Why yes, I am."
"Are you here for a hat, or a social call?" Gilbert queried, tidying up some of the boxes on the floor.
"Both, actually. Why didn't you tell me that you were better?" She stood and stared with accusing eyes.
The Hatter paused, wondering over the question. "I don't really know. I guess I just didn't really think anyone would believe it."
"Gil...so when did you feel better?"
"The first time my watch was winded. It has to be kept wound, else I'll start to lose it again," he stated.
"So as long as we stay close, so I can wind it, you'll be fine?"
The Hatter nodded, looking at her again as the woman he had thought her of at the festival, so long ago. She was beautiful and clever and kind above all else, and he loved her for it. "Yeah, I guess."
"Good, then you'll be able to go on a picnic with me tomorrow. So I can wind your watch, I mean." The Queen flushed pink as she spoke.
"Lizzie, are you asking me out on a DATE?" He asked teasingly.
She scowled, but her embarrassment was clear, "And what if I am?"
"Then I'd have to say yes," Gilbert grinned.
Elizabeta smiled and nodded numbly as she let the news course through her. "Now, I'll need a hat for the picnic, so...?" She gestured to the numerous amounts of hat boxes that littered the floor.
"I better get to work then."
((*-Twinkle, Twinkle by Lewis Carol
**-Another by Lewis Carol, of course
Hey gaiz, I just found this out. The March Hare was named for how crazy rabbits get in their mating season, which is around March. Isn't that just perfect for Francis? LMAO
Glob this took so long. It was originally supposed to be so differnt! I don't even know where this came from! I've been working and procrastinating on this, and I'm not even sure if it's very good. I'm sorry! Please review and tell me what you think, because I think I need some reassuring. I'm not like those annoying facebook girls, please tell me the truth on whether it's good or bad, because I really don't know anymore. I think it went downhill.))