Author's Note: Well, before anything else, allow me to welcome you to my newest endeavor! This is a story that I first conceived of in July 2010, and after much hard work and a lot of frustration, I'm finally ready to begin posting. Before we get going, though, I apologize for the ridiculous length of the Author's Notes and Disclaimers. For whatever reason, this story demands a lot of up-front disclaiming and explanation.

Please keep in mind that, as always, my profile page is where I post frequent updates about where I am [and why I haven't posted the chapter that I owe you]. As far as writing, this entire story is written already, but I'm sending each chapter to my wonderful shiny new beta, and I'm also writing another story in between posting. So if it's been more than two weeks and you haven't gotten a chapter, either I'm making changes based on my beta's suggestions, or I've got some other form of writer's block. In any case, I'll write a note about it on my profile.

Honestly, I never intended to write a Wonderland fanfic. Yeah, I loved the Burton movie, but the thought of writing a fanfiction for it never once crossed my mind. Well, alright, there was that one little idea about the Room of Doors and where each of those doors might lead, and what those doors had to do with Wonderland, and what adventures AIice's six kids might have behind those doors… But I never intended to write it. I was too busy working on Light, and I had a real life to worry about.

Then I got bored one weekend, and on a whim decided to read some absolutely wonderful AIW fics, which led to an entire week of reading said wonderful stories [really, you people are devilishly clever, I applaud you]. And predictably [and rather obviously, given that you're reading this right now], an Idea began to form. A crazy, mad, wonderful Idea. Which lead to what you're about to read.

Now, I will be the absolute first to admit that I am a complete amateur at the world of AIW fiction. It's much more difficult to work with the Underlandians than any other fandom I've written for to date [including AVPF, and some of you might recall how much I complained about those characters], and while I enjoy the challenge, I'm still worried that I'm not doing it justice. I'm most probably going to mangle every last character that we all know and love. And by mangle, I mean decimate, destroy, annihilate, ruin, slaughter, demolish—Roxie!—Thank you… I'm fine… Anyways, please forgive me for any harm that comes to these characters that's due to my own failing to research or take the time to think things through. Harm that comes to the characters due to the plot, however, I won't apologize for. All I'll say is that I will eventually fix everything I break. Except character death, I can't do much about that.

Also, I must warn you that despite this chapter, this is not a story of Alice in Wonderland. This chapter is a prologue more than anything, because it's absolutely essential to the rest of my story, but Alice will not be my protagonist. Don't worry, she wlll appear later on with a vengeance, and given that she's Absolutely Alice you can count on her having a very large presence until she actually shows up. Until then, you get to put up with a character of my own invention. If OC AIW fics aren't your thing… well, this isn't the story for you.

Note on Characters' World: My characters are firmly based in the Burtonverse [though working off the assumption that, as Carroll wrote, Alice went to Underland twice as a child, not once like in the movie]— mostly because it's been years since I've read the books or seen the 50s Disney movie, and I've never seen the SyFy version. Irresponsible of me to mess around with characters without consulting all the available materials, I know, but lack of funds prevents me from doing a more thorough job. Trust me, nobody regrets that more than I do. I'll do my best with what I have, though.

Several of the countries I list in Alice's POV are mentioned by the names they were called in the 18th and 19th centuries. That's me striving for story accuracy, so I'm sorry for any confusion. Alice is talking about what today we call South Africa, Jakarta, Thailand, and Japan.

A bluestocking refers to an educated, intelligent and independent woman. It's a derisive term that implies frumpiness, spinsterhood, and being ill-suited to Society.

I'm writing this story on the assumption that Alice's childhood trips to Underland took place in roughly 1852, and that her third trip took place in 1865, because that's the year Carroll's novel was published. This means that this prologue chapter takes place in 1870, and the rest of the story will take place in 1895.

Original Character Face Claim: Andrew Manning is portrayed by Ryan Reynolds.

Overall Disclaimer: This should be pretty obvious, and so I'm only going to say this once [any disclaimers from here on out will be restricted to specific details]. If you recognize it, I don't own it. This refers to material from any of the movies or TV series, books, or fanfictions. Everything except my own characters are owned by Lewis Carroll, Tim Burton, and the Disney Corporation. If you think you've seen it in another fanfiction, I truly do apologize; I don't mean to steal any other author's idea, and if I did it was purely unintentional and coincidental. However, if you do know of other stories with similar ideas, please tell me so I can give credit.

Hat Disclaimer: I did do my research about the Hat, and I do know what the 10/6 tag on the Hat actually means. I screwed that bit of book-canon over on purpose, and hopefully you won't object when you see why I did it.

OOC Disclaimer: Yes, I do realize that a divorce in the 1870s would have been absolutely scandalous, especially among London society, the haute ton [as mentioned above, I do conduct research for my stories]. However, I am a firm believer that both Helen and Margaret are related to Alice for a reason, and that secretly they do share her muchness, in their own ways. That's why I made the decision I did concerning Margaret, and societal norms of the time be damned.

Also, I realize that in the final scene, Alice may be acting a bit out of character- being unusually forthright and such. I'm calling that character development; she couldn't have been a successful businesswoman if she didn't know when to beat around the bush and when to be direct. I've always seen Alice as a child/girl/woman who knows what she wants, and for the purposes of the rest of this story my Alice is a woman who will get what she wants.

Warnings: There will be, throughout the story, incidents of violence, gore, and eventual character death. I'll try to give you warning when this is going to occur.

Special Thanks: A million thanks to my beta, Jiffie, for taking me on! Ample thanks and praise will be given for all the help I'm sure she's going to give this story before we're through.

It was Finally Time.

Five long years had passed since Alice Caroline Kingsleigh fell down the rabbit hole and saved Underland from the threat of the Jabberwocky and the murderous reign of the Red Queen and her enforcer the Knave. For five years she had been Aboveground again, for as she had told the Mad Hatter, there were questions she'd needed answered, things she'd had to do.

In five years she had traveled to China and viewed the wonders of the Orient. She had secured trade agreements with all the major ports of China- Macau, Hong Kong, Shanghai, Tianjin, Taiwan. She had faced opposition, of course; several of the junior partners in the Company had objected to Alice contributing her ideas. Whether they had resented that she was a woman or that she had better ideas than they did or perhaps both, Alice didn't know. But she didn't let their antagonism stop her; after all, what was her muchness for if not to overcome obstacles?

She had worked hard in the three years she spent in China, yes, but she had played just as hard. She had marveled at the Great Wall, traveled to the Tibetan plateau, and drunk some of the most glorious teas in the world. She had lost herself in the glorious bazaars of Shanghai, buying more hats than she knew what to do with, one or two spectacular looking glasses, and several fragrant flavors of hookah.

During the long journey home, Alice and Lord Ascot had spent long nights poring over their map, contemplating where to take the Company next. Should they go to South Africa, for the gold, diamonds, and iron? To Batavia, for spices and agriculture? Perhaps to Siam, for opium and textiles, or perhaps to Japan? These talks filled Alice with satisfaction. The Company would be secure for years, perhaps decades to come. The Company's successes had filled Alice's bank account, had helped her finally pay off the debts Charles Kingsleigh had left behind and to stabilize her family's finances.

And she had never been more Absolutely Alice. For five years she had been fighting society's expectations of her, never settling for any path that she hadn't made. It hadn't been easy to constantly battle, of course. It hadn't been easy to be ostracized from the society of those English who had settled in Shanghai or Hong Kong, to be labeled a bluestocking simply because she wanted to make her father's dreams come true. Pitting her muchness against the norms of society had not been easy, but she reveled in the fight and didn't regret a moment of it.

True, there had been one time when she had nearly given her business and her freedom up for marriage, but in the end she hadn't been able to say yes to Robert Nevermore. For in truth, she had long known that she would not spend the rest of her life in England. England was not- and perhaps never had been- home to her, and to try to pretend otherwise was not only a betrayal of her muchness, but an insult to an honorable man like Robert. She would have been happy with him, yes… but it wouldn't have been enough. She would always be longing for the place she truly called Home, and someday they would come to resent each other. To attempt to settle down with a husband and a family wasn't fair to anyone, and so she had refused Robert's proposal and turned her face towards home.

Alice stood at the helm of the Wonder, gripping the railing eagerly as she scoured the horizon for the shores of England. She would be sorry to disembark the Wonder; the ship had been her home for two year-long voyages through many seas and safe harbors, and even when she resided on land she had still considered the Wonder to be her true berth. She had come to know and love every inch of the craft. She had spent her days walking the deck, learning how to steer and guide the ship through the waters once the crew overcame their superstitious fear that a woman onboard brought bad luck. She had climbed up to the crow's nest to marvel at the vastness of the world; she had stood at the bow of the ship to experience the sensation of flying.

However, all things must come to an end, she reminded herself. Her adventures with the Wonder were over, but the next adventure was only just about to begin.

Smiling to herself, Alice fingered the chain that had hung around her neck for the past five years. Inside the well-worn leather pouch was a glass vial half-full of a foul-smelling purple liquid. The vial of Jabberwocky blood was the thing that had kept Alice from Forgetting when she returned from Underland. Physical objects were, after all, much more difficult to forget than memories. Memories faded with Time's passing, even her dearest-held memories of bright orange hair and electric green eyes. Alice had been horrified to realize that as Time went on, she had begun to forget the sound of his voice, the blend of fragrances that formed his scent, the exact shade of his eyes at his very happiest. She railed against Time, fought him with all her strength, but still he marched on, and still her memories slipped away from her. The vial of Jabberwocky blood was Alice's daily reminder that it had all Happened, that they were all real and she hadn't dreamed them up. They were Real; he was Real. Her Hatter…

Stop it, Alice, she chastised herself. Of course she had long accepted that she was coming Home to him above all, but did she really need to think of him in such very possessive terms? Yes, she had dreamt about him an astonishing amount since she'd left, and yes, her thoughts had taken a decidedly… amorous turn at times. But how could she by any stretch of her considerably formidable Imagination claim to call him her Hatter? They had no understanding; no intentions had ever been declared. Their relationship was that of brother and sister- fiercely devoted to and protective of each other, but nothing more. To claim ownership of him in such a manner was neither appropriate nor accurate.

And yet she did claim him, with a fierce possessiveness and utter certainty that astonished her. She wanted him to be hers. She wanted to be the one he turned to at a Tea Party to share a rhyme or riddle; she wanted him to Futterwhacken for her alone. Of all the creatures and people she had met during her adventures in Underland and the Aboveground, he had always been singular and incomparable, unrivaled in both worlds Alice knew. In Tarrant Hightopp she had found a kindred spirit, a twin flame. He had understood her without even needing to try; he had banished her loneliness and accepted her without question. She wanted the chance to do the same for him, to in some way ease the loneliness he had felt since the Horunvendush Day, when he'd lost everything he cared about.

Could such a thing be possible? Could he possibly come to care for her in a way other than brotherly affection? Could he give her his heart, in exchange for her own? Could she ever hope to become His Alice, could she call him Her Tarrant? These were the only questions that still went unanswered, and she meant to put an end to that very, very soon.

There! Alice's breath caught in her throat as the unending, somber blue-gray of the Atlantic Ocean gave way to a darker smudge that she knew from her extensive travels meant land. England. Alice bounced with impatience, gripping the railing tighter and willing the ship to go faster. From behind her came a dry, amused chuckle.

"Anxious to be home, Alice?" Lord Richard Ascot asked, walking up to join her.
"Very much so, sir," Alice nodded.
"Not much longer now," he smiled down at her. "We'll be there before noon. And knowing my wife, she'll have one of her elaborate parties ready for us tonight."

Though she felt like groaning in despair, Alice smiled instead. After all, this wasn't going to be like that foiled engagement party, where she felt so trapped, like a bird locked in a gilded cage. She had only to sit through a supper and a few dances. Then it would be an easy thing to say she desired some air, step out into the garden… and as soon as she was out of sight of any guests, she would down that Jabberwocky blood and be Home At Last.

Two more hours saw them in port. As soon as the gangway had been laid, Alice flew down it, sprinting towards her mother and sister. There was a flurry of excited laughter and feminine squeals as the women threw their arms around each other. And for once, Helen Kingsleigh was so excited to see her younger daughter that she said nothing at all about the impropriety with which Alice had exited the ship.

"Oh Alice, it's so wonderful to have you home again," she said rapturously, holding Alice as close as she could.
"I've missed you, Mother," Alice sighed, deeply inhaling the scents she associated with her mother- her lavender toilette water, the rose sachet she kept in her linen drawer, the warm motherly smell that was uniquely her.
"Let me get a good look at you," Helen said, pulling away from her daughter far enough to see her face. "How beautiful you are. Travel agrees with you."
"Thank you," Alice said modestly. "And you look well rested. Bath must have agreed with you, you must tell me all about it," she smiled, referencing her mother's latest excursion to take the mineral waters.
"Of course, on the carriage ride," Helen nodded, as Margaret pushed her way to the forefront.
"Alice!" she squealed with glee, drawing her sister as close as she could with a pregnant stomach in the way.
"Hello, Margaret," Alice laughed, hugging her sister tightly before pulling back to lay her hands on Margaret's burgeoning stomach. "How are you?"
"Much better, now that it's almost over," Margaret smiled, laying her hands over her sister's. "Much more energetic than I was at first."
"Are you hoping for a boy or a girl?" Alice asked.
"I want a girl to spoil," Margaret replied gleefully. "There's plenty of time for sons later, though of course I suppose I should say that I want a son to carry on Andrew's name."
Alice smiled. "As you said, there's plenty of time for sons later. It's lovely to finally meet you in person, Mr. Manning. Margaret has told me so much about you."
"Andrew, please," he replied with a smile, stepping forward to shake Alice's hand. "I hope you don't mind if I call you Alice right off? Margaret has shared your letters with me, and I feel as though I know you already."
Alice smiled. "I'd be delighted for you to call me Alice, Andrew."

Helen and Margaret watched the meeting with happy faces, more than happy that Alice seemed to approve of Andrew as much as her letters had implied.

Very soon after Alice's almost-engagement, Margaret had walked in on Lowell Manchester and his Hattie "advancing their friendship" in the antechamber of a ballroom, during one of the ton social events of the Season. At first, Margaret had intended to forgive and forget. After all, few marriages were love matches, and even fewer men remained faithful to their vows. Even if Margaret was cut to the quick and deeply wounded by Lowell's betrayal, she could not bring herself to believe that infidelity was a serious enough offense to justify divorce.

It was soon after that, however, that Margaret learned that Lowell had squandered away Margaret's dowry on drinking and gambling. His financial irresponsibility was putting a strain on even his father's substantial coffers. Any money Margaret might have hoped to save for a son's education, or a daughter's dowry, was now long gone. It was this that drove Margaret to divorce Lowell, in a show of muchness that Alice had cheered from Shanghai. As Margaret had stated in a letter to Alice,

I will always love Lowell, but I can no longer respect or depend upon him. I cannot in good conscience remain married to a man that I do not respect. His betrayals have shown me that he is no longer the man he once was, and I do not believe he ever shall be that man again, if ever he truly was.

I am sure that Society will condemn me for what I do, but I cannot help but think of you, and your firm belief that one's own happiness should supersede the demands of Society. It is a terrifying stance, but I must confess, it is a liberating one. While I do not think I shall ever carry this maxim to the lengths you have- traveling the world, entering the world of commerce, and rejecting marriage and children- I do admire you, Alice, for your refusal to settle for anything less than that which will make you truly happy.

After spending a quiet two years away from London, Margaret had met Andrew Manning at a garden party, and the rest was history. They were now wed and blissfully happy, excitedly awaiting the birth of their first child. Seeing how happy Margaret was, Alice smiled in approval; she knew she wouldn't need to worry about her sister's well-being when she left tonight.

"Shall we adjourn to the carriage?" Helen proposed. "I'm sure Alice would appreciate a chance to rest and freshen up before the Ascots' ball this evening."
"I could use a bath," Alice nodded. "And a cup of tea."
"Well then," Helen smiled, taking Alice's hand and leading her to the carriage.

Alice bit her lip as she followed her family into their carriage. She was determined upon her path; she would return to Underland this evening, and this time she would stay. But her reunion with her family had driven home to her just how much she was sacrificing in order to return to Underland. She would have loved to hold her niece or nephew, to get to know her brother-in-law. She wished she could encourage her sister to continue seeking her own happiness, watch the years roll off of Helen's face as she played with her grandchild.

Sighing, she shook her head to clear it of the sad thoughts. Yes, she was giving up a life with her family… but she was going to be returning to a family that she loved just as much, who accepted her unconditionally and without reserve. She knew she would miss her family, but she also knew that some things were not going to change. She would still suffer from a travelers' itch; she would never be content to remain at home. Helen would not give up her campaign to see Alice properly married off and settled down. Margaret too would insist upon Alice conforming at least a bit to Society, and those were things that Alice could not abide. No, the only choice was to leave England, this time forever.

"Now," she said, as much to distract herself as anything, "tell me about Bath…"

The dancing had lasted for hours now, long since past the time that sunset had faded to twilight, and twilight had melted away into true night. And what a beautiful night it was- the sky was an inky black, dotted with a million stars, while the full moon shone with all her strength. The night air was warm and perfumed with the scents of flowers- Lady Ascot's prized red roses above all. Alice stood on the balcony, a glass of champagne in hand, as she stared out into the evening. It was as if the world had decided to show herself to best advantage, to give Alice a truly beautiful farewell. She would miss the beauty of the Aboveworld…

But there were more beauties waiting for her, she reminded herself. There was a whole new, mostly unexplored world, just waiting for her to return. All she had to do was say her goodbyes, and then she could start her new life.

Drawing a deep, steadying breath, Alice turned and headed back inside. She twisted her fingers in the folds of her off-the-shoulder, silk ballgown- blue, of course; there was no more Alice a color than blue- and purposefully strode through the room, looking for her mother and sister. Fortunately, they were sitting together, Helen clearly fussing over Margaret and her unborn child. She smiled as she approached them.

"You'll never stop mothering us, will you?"she asked.
"Never," Helen said serenely.
"Good," Alice smiled, laughing softly before bending to press a kiss to her mother's kiss, inhaling her scent and committing it to memory. Then she turned and wrapped her arms around her sister's shoulders. "You're going to make a wonderful mother, Margaret," she smiled, kissing Margaret's cheek.
"Thank you, Alice," Margaret smiled, returning Alice's kiss.
"I'm getting a headache. I'm going to call for the carriage and leave early," Alice said, the lie bitter on her tongue.
"Of course, dear. Would you like me to come?" Helen asked.
"No, no, there's no need," Alice shook her head. "Stay here and fuss over Margaret some more, I'll be fine. I just need to get away from the heat and the noise."
"Very well. If you're sure," Helen hedged.
"I am," Alice nodded.
"Alright. Good night then, dear," Helen said.
"Good night," Alice replied. "Please give my apologies to the Ascots, and tell Andrew good evening from me."
"Of course," Margaret nodded.

She forced herself to straighten and head for the door. When she reached the doorframe, she chanced one final glance back, drinking in the image of her mother and sister. She must always remember them like this, she told herself; they were so happy and carefree. Helen, content at the good fortunes of her daughters; Margaret quietly glowing with the miracle that grew within her. They would be safe, and well provided for; Alice could ask for nothing more.

Was it right to do this, she asked herself? Was she right to leave them with so little explanation, to hurt them like this? It would hurt them, she knew; they had had their differences, but they were still family, and they loved each other. For Alice to slip away like a thief in the night… Perhaps she ought not to leave like this. Perhaps she should attempt to explain in person, to make the separation easier.

And yet, she knew that the separation wouldn't be easier. Nothing would make it easier; it was still one of the hardest things she would ever have to do. No, it was best to simply leave. She had taken precautions to protect her family- she had split her fortune in half and given each half to Margaret and Helen. She had relinquished her shares in the Company to Andrew's capable hands. She had written them letters, attempting to explain. There was nothing else she could do.

I do admire you, Alice, for your refusal to settle for anything less than that which will make you truly happy.

Alice repeated Margaret's words to herself, summoning up her muchness. She was seeking her own happiness now; that had to be her focus. Her family was going to be just fine. Now it was time to ensure the same for herself.

Earlier that afternoon, she had packed herself a small valise with the few mementos she intended to bring with her to Underland. A photograph of her father, another of her mother, Margaret and Andrew. The letters she'd received from them for the past five years. An assortment of teas, which she would give to the Hatter. The delicate necklace her mother had given her the day of that failed engagement attempt. And finally, her diaries, kept since she was six years old, which detailed everything from her first trip to Wonderland to pulling into port today. Slipping into the cloakroom, Alice fetched the valise, which she'd hidden in a dark corner. Holding the bag of treasures to her chest, Alice headed outside, facing the life she was walking towards instead of the one she was walking away from.

She took off through the gardens, trying to remember the paths she had taken five years ago, following a white rabbit in a waistcoat. If only she had a guide now, she thought wryly. McTwisp, with his delicate nerves and disapproval of Aboveground animals and their indiscretions, was hardly the ideal travel guide, but his white fur would have been easy to spot in the darkness. Huffing in irritation, Alice glanced up at the stars. She thought she remembered that the tree had been to the southwest of the Ascots' property, so if she turned a little more to the left… There!

Sighing in relief and thanking the sailors of the Wonder for their lessons in navigation, she ran towards the tree where it had all begun. She laid a hand on the trunk, sighing thoughtfully as she looked at the old thing. The tree was dead; it had been cut back to only the trunk and the stronger branches. Alice was sure that Lady Ascot would have preferred for the tree to be dug up completely and used as firewood, and she sent a silent prayer of thanks that it was still here. True, she could have drunk the Jabberwocky blood anywhere, but it felt right to come here. This tree was a doorway, both physical and psychological; there to bolster her should she have last-minute doubts about the existence of the world she was about to return to.

It was obvious that someone had tried to fill the rabbit hole in, she thought as she knelt down, though not near enough to fall in. But Underland's emissaries could not be kept in, and Alice would not be kept out, she thought smugly.

Opening her valise, Alice withdrew a large, heavy envelope, which was stuffed with letters. One was addressed to Lord Ascot, announcing her resignation from the Company and her decision to surrender her shares to Andrew. She also asked him to continue looking after her family, as he had done since her father's death. Another letter was addressed to Helen and Margaret, asking them not to worry about her. She loved them and always would, she told them, but she was leaving England to find her happiness. She had written a letter to Margaret's unborn child, telling it how she wished she could have met it, but that she loved it anyways. With this letter, she included a manuscript- a novelization of her adventures in Wonderland. In this small way, she hoped to influence her niece or nephew, to keep his or her imagination open and to instill some of her muchness into the child. Lord knew, any child growing up in the Aboveground would have need of an awful lot of muchness… Gently, she set the letters down against the tree trunk, then nodded. Now she was Ready.

Unhooking the chain from her neck, Alice withdrew the vial from its pouch. Unable to keep from smiling, she popped open the jeweled lid, not even deterred by the foul smell of the blood. For a moment she paused; what if the blood no longer worked? Did Jabberwocky blood go rancid? And if it could go bad, would she suffer ill effects from drinking it? What if the blood malfunctioned, and instead of sending her Home, it sent her Elsewhere? What if she got lost somewhere in that grey fog she remembered, suspended between Worlds and unable to return to either of them? What if… what if…

Never mind, she decided, firmly telling herself not to panic. If it didn't work, she would simply fling herself down the rabbit hole again. And if the blood had gone bad and didn't work properly… Well, she wasn't the Champion of Underland for nothing. She could face down anything that Fate threw her way. If she got stuck or lost, she would fight to get Home; if she suffered ill effects from the blood, she would simply ask Mirana for her help. That plan in place, she put the vial to her lips and let the liquid slide down her throat, shuddering at the taste- like rancid cough syrup mixed with dirty socks and rotten turnips. Worse than pishalver, if that was possible…

I want to go home, she thought. Then, realizing that a vague wish would not only not take her to the Hatter, but could end up with her being sent to her mother's house instead of Underland, she reworded her desire. I want to be in Underland, with Tarrant Hightopp.

She blinked rapidly as the world began to dissolve around her. It was unsettling, yes, but she recognized the grey, fog-like mist that swirled around her; the last time she'd seen it was when she left the battlefield after slaying the Jabberwocky. So instead of screaming, she smiled, trusting in her fervent wish completely. The fog cleared, to be replaced by a vision of gnarled, sinister-looking trees. Her smile widening, Alice secured her grip on her valise, grabbed her skirts in both hands and took off at a sprint down the path that she knew would lead her Home.

Knowing herself as she did, she was probably late for tea again, and that really was unforgivably naughty of her. She hoped that the Hatter would forgive her for her tardiness…

The Mad Hatter had a talent for throwing Tea Parties.

His Tea Parties tended to draw people together, to mesh them into the fabric of Underland. He was a champion of the underdogs and the misfits, always had been; his Parties made them a part of the whole again. Or at least, so he had been told, back in the days of the Resistance. He had never considered his Tea Parties to be anything but a gathering of friends and food, but if the sharing of tea and treason gave a feeling of inclusion to the oppressed, then he was very happy to hear it.

That was the reason he was seated at the head of the table just now. He was Waiting, waiting for his tea to work its magic and call to one particular misfit. She'd be late, of course; the naughty wee little boy was always late for her tea. But that was alright. He could wait for her. There was really nothing else for him to do, after all.

Be back again before you know it…

He had tried so hard not to Know it. After the Frabjous Day, he had accepted the White Queen's offer to return to Marmoreal, to take up his post as Royal Hatter once again. He had kept himself as busy as he possibly could, spending nearly every waking moment creating hats for the Queen and her Court. He had worked so much that the mercury, which had mostly leached out of him after the White Queen's banishment, had again begun to poison him, staining his skin and affecting his mind. It had been a happy, harmless Madness, though; he was in a perpetual haze, trapped in a safe world of creative delirium, where nothing mattered but ribbons and feathers and flowers and beautiful hats. He was happy to be working in the palace again, and the Court was wild over his creations, if rather wary of him personally. And if one in every six hats he made was blue and white and was clearly an Alice Hat… well, no one commented [to his face, at least].

But Time had moved with unusual determination and relentless speed, and all of a sudden he had Known It. He'd Known, but Alice hadn't been back. And not even the mercury-induced haze was enough to save him from the true Madness, the Bad Madness, the fracturing of his mind that was due to Horunvendush Day. The Voice, that mysterious Other, had awoken, and begun Its evil work with a vengeance, whispering to Tarrant of anger, rejection, pain, loss, unworthiness, destruction. More and more often, his eyes would darken to that shade of topaz that meant Danger, and he would rant and rave and destroy whatever was within arm's reach [everything except the Alice Hats, and the Alice Dresses and Alice Shoes, of course], screaming in Outlandish the entire time. The Madness had kept getting worse and worse, until even Mallymkun was having trouble snapping him out of it.

There had been one particularly bad Day, one where he lost all track of Time and raved for a Time-less amount of Time, until Mally stabbed him in the hand and distracted the Voice long enough for Tarrant to shut It away into the Darkness, where It belonged. He had looked up, then been terrified to see Mirana standing there, a solemn look in her dark eyes. He had fallen to his knees, bewildered and babbling apologies, his mind reeling with horror at what Could Have Been. He could so easily have broken her, destroyed her pale perfection with one mindless swing of his arm. Fates above, he could have killed her, and he would never have known it, Lost as he was in the Madness.

Mirana had taken one look at Tarrant, curled in the fetal position on the floor, shaking and exhausted, and suggested that perhaps he would prefer to leave the crowded rooms of Marmoreal, to return to the Tulgey Wood for a time. He had protested; the position of Royal Hatter was vitally important, much more important than anyone but the Queen and the Hatter [and Absolem of course, and very likely the Cat] knew. But Mirana had gently insisted, blinking her dark eyes and telling him that she was waiting for Alice's return as well, and that if Alice would go anywhere, it would be to a Tea Party.

And so he had returned here, to his armchair at the head of the tea table, to drink tea and to Wait.

She had promised. Alice the Champion, Absolutely Alice, Alice At Last… dare he say it, even in his thoughts? His Alice… had promised to return. "Be back again before you know it," she had said. She had promised to return to Underland, promised she wouldn't forget him this time. He knew His Alice [how he liked the possessiveness of that his!] better than anyone; better even than he knew himself. She would not break a promise, especially not one like this.

She had promised to return to Underland. And he had promised to wait for her.

Be back again before you know it…

But he Knew It; by the Butterfly, how he knew it. And yet she hadn't returned.

Sometimes, Time flew; at other times, he crawled. Sometimes he even came to a standstill, and that was when the Hatter hated Time the most. In those never-ending moments, it was almost impossible for him to hold on to Hope, for him to continue believing that Alice was coming.

What if she had been right after all? What if he was only a figure in her dreams? And if so, what if Alice had woken up? What happened to a dream, once the dreamer has awoken? Would he cease to exist? Would he remain in limbo forever, until Alice fell asleep once again and brought him back to life? Was it fair to ask her to fall asleep forever, simply so he could see her again? If he was, in fact, a dream, then shouldn't he remain content in the knowledge that she had to fall asleep sometime, and when she did, he would see her again? But then again… what if she fell asleep, but dreamed a different dream? How many worlds did Alice hold prisoner, each of them waiting for her to sleep and return to them? Could he travel between worlds, so no matter where she went in her sleep he was there with her?

He closed his eyes against those questions, not wanting to know what it meant for him should he find an answer and discover that he was, in fact, not alive or real but simply a figment of Alice's imagination. He drew a deep breath, pulling out his list of Impossible Things. Alice, quite clearly a saganstitute, had once said that she sometimes believed as many as six Impossible Things before breakfast. In those moments were Time returned to pick another fight, the Hatter would pull out his list of Impossible Things and repeat it over and over again like a mantra, clinging to the words like a drowning man holding onto a flotation device, until Time retreated once again and left him in peace.

001. There was a place called the Aboveground.
002. In that place, women wore stockings and corsets and men wore matching socks.
003. In the Aboveground was a city with the unimaginative name of London.
004. In London dwelt the Champion of Underland, Slayer of the Jabberwocky and Keeper of the Vorpal Sword.
005. He had somehow managed to fall absolutely, Hat over kilt in love with her.
006. His Alice, His Absolutely Alice, would return and remember him.

Sometimes, when Tarrant was feeling particularly daring, he would add one last Impossible Thing to his list.

007. Alice cared for him, just enough that he could begin to work on making her His Alice in Truth.

Time had continued to flow around him, sometimes as slow as molasses, other times as quickly as a river, until he had lost all track of his slippery foe. Occasionally he would threaten to kill Time again, but they both knew it was an empty threat; if Time didn't flow, how would Time pass? And if Time didn't pass, how would Alice return?

And yet the longer he waited, the more the Hatter retreated into the Madness of his own mind, until even the March Hare and the Dormouse were unable to pull him from it. The Tea Party he'd laid out for Alice's return went on around him, but he paid no attention. He left his seat only to use the Necessary, and sometimes when the bad Madness took him and he had to destroy something. Other than that, he sat in his chair, arms folded on his chest, head down and Hat pulled over his eyes, frozen, colorless, and Waiting.

The clearing, and the forest surrounding it, were utterly silent. The Hatter could hear every tiny stirring in the forest, including the language of the Trees, which sounded like breezes ruffling through leaves. When the Hare and the Dormouse came to visit him for tea he could hear them from miles off. So he had no trouble identifying the sound of footsteps approaching. But it wasn't Thackery or Mallymkun, he knew; the noises were coming from the wrong direction- from before him, not behind. Who in Underland would approach the table from that way? And yet, he knew the pattern of that tread…

"Hatter?"

Be back again before you know it…

He froze. Every muscle in his body tensed, rendering him immobile as if he hadn't been absolutely still before. Was he dreaming again, or dreaming still? Was it possible for him to be dreaming, given that he was only part of Alice's dream? Was Time or Memory or Dreams playing tricks on him, taunting him in his Madness?

Or was it possible… he couldn't even complete that thought in his own mind. He didn't want to look, in case he was merely Imagining her again; it would be too painful when the hallucination passed, as it always did. He didn't want to willingly put himself in that pain, just for the momentary pleasure of Imagining seeing her. If this was her dream, and she'd finally fallen asleep, then she'd tell him, wouldn't she? Wouldn't they know that this was her dream, and not his hallucination? Against his will, he found himself looking up.

And then he stared.

She was grown again, more so than she had been last time. No longer child or girl, she was a woman now, and what a woman she was! She hadn't lost her muchness, not at all; if anything, her muchness had increased, until she nearly glowed with the strength of it. Her golden curls were falling out of their once-elegant coiffure, she was garbed in his favorite shade of blue [there really was no more Alice color than blue, he decided for the millionth time], and she carried some sort of valise. Immediately, he decided that if this was indeed a trick of Memory or Time or Dream, he never wanted Sleep to let him go. He prayed that Alice was, in fact, Dreaming, and that she wouldn't be woken up. It was abominably selfish of him, but he never wanted her to wake up; he wanted to remain in this dream with her.

"Is it really you?" he lisped, his voice hoarse and creaky from Underland-only-knew how long a time of disuse. "I've imagined you so many times, but you always disappear… am I dreaming you again? Or are you dreaming me? Do you suppose we could be dreaming each other? Is that possible?"
"Hatter!" Alice broke into his rambling, laughing softly. "It's really me," she stated, setting the valise at her feet. "Am I late for tea again?"

He jumped up, his entire being brightening with color. Time released its hold on him, and instead of immobility he was limberness itself as he nearly ran across the tea table to stand before her.

"Alice," he breathed, her name sweeter than honey on his tongue. "Absolutely Alice. At last. You're finally here, and you're you, muchness and all, and for once you're your right-proper-Alice-size! Not that I don't like you when you're too small or too tall, but it's much easier for you to be Absolutely Alice when you're your proper size-"
"Hatter!" she broke off his rambling again, laughing.
"I'm fine," he croaked, before shaking his head. "You're back? You're really here? This isn't a dream?"
"Yes, I'm back," she nodded, taking his hands in hers and squeezing them. "I never should have thought that you were a dream. I should have known better. Forgive me, Hatter, I won't be so silly again. This isn't a dream. We're both awake, and I'm really here. I'm Home. I'm home for good, I'm not leaving again."

He drew a deep breath, pushing back his fears. Alice had said that they were both awake, that this wasn't a dream- that did mean that nothing had been a dream, didn't it? Everything truly had Happened, and no one was going to wake up and spoil this?

"Home," he whispered. "You're home? Really?"
"Really and truly," she said solemnly. "I promise. I'm so sorry I've kept you waiting."
"You had things to do and questions to answer," he replied, repeating what she had said to him so long ago. "But you have done those things and answered your questions, I hope?"
"I have," Alice nodded. "And I'll tell you all about it. But first, I want you to Believe that I truly am home, and that I'm staying."
"Anything you command, Alice," he grinned, ordering Himself to believe it. "Callooh Callay!"

He whooped with glee, then threw his arms around her, lifting her off her feet and spinning them both around, faster and faster until they were both laughing and breathless. So caught up in the moment was he that before he'd even thought of the Idea, he had leaned in, capturing her soft lips with his, and oh how good she tasted, like honey and sunshine and rebellion and Simply Alice.

His mind caught up with his mouth a moment later, and he hastily pulled away, setting her on her own two feet again.

"I do apologize," he said, his eyes darkening in anger with himself as his words began falling out of his mouth again, the Outlandish accent growing thicker with each word. "I realize we're only friends, an' I don't wish ta take advantage o' yeh, 'specially no' when yer the Queen's Champion an' Absolutely Alice besides that, an' I'm a Hatter, an' a Mad one at tha'-"
"Tarrant!"

He stared at her, wide eyed, as he came back to himself. Never before had she used his real name- he hadn't even realized she'd known it!- but he liked how it sounded on her tongue. More than liked it, actually. He was overcome by the Wish to hear her say it again, and again after that, and possibly even again again, until he tired of it. He was quite sure he could never tire of it.

Nodding in approval at his uncharacteristic silence, Alice placed her hands on his chest, feeling the frantic tatoo of his heartbeat under her fingers. Her own pulse was beating in time with his, and while she was feeling more than a little breathless, she had never been one to be speechless. Especially not when her Most Important Questions had been answered for her in such a spectacular manner.

"I do not accept your apology, Tarrant Hightopp," she said clearly, fascinated as his eyes changed from topaz to dazzling green, then darkened to another color altogether- a cool, beautiful blue that she had never seen before but somehow understood anyways. "I do, however, demand that you kiss me again, and don't you dare stop until I'm satisfied."

He couldn't believe his Luck. But, belief or disbelief, Dream or Reality, who was he to ignore an order from His Alice? He drew her closer this time, holding her as if she might disappear as his lips descended on hers once again. He kissed her and she kissed him until they were both breathless; then they continued on without air. What need had he of air, when he could simply breathe her in? She was making such interesting sounds, anyways; his investigation of things that began with the letter M might have to be postponed for a time. Well, maybe there were some words that were worthy of his attention at the moment.

Moan… Marvelous… Magnificent… Missed… Mate… Magic… Marriage… Mine…

"I've missed you," she whispered when they finally, reluctantly, parted to breathe.
"And I have missed you," he replied, fascinated by the feel of her hair beneath his fingers. "And… since you're here to stay, and since this isn't a dream…"

He swallowed hard, twitching in nervous anxiety. He pulled away from her, taking her hands in his. He hadn't planned on doing this, but suddenly he knew that if he didn't do it now, he might never ask her. And that was an Idea never, ever to be thought; the Very Worst of Bad Ideas. A surge of muchness filled him, and he charged ahead.

"I don't know how this is done in the Aboveground," he said apologetically. "Or even in other parts of Underland. But in my clan, it was done like this." He removed his beloved Hat, pulling the 10/6 card from the sash, and handed it to her. "This is my family card," he said quietly. "I want you to have it."
She stared up at him, wide-eyed. "You want me to have your family card? Oh…" she breathed as she caught on.
He nodded, his eyes- now burning blue- boring into hers. "I want you to be My Alice. My Alice only."
Her face broke out into a brilliant smile. "I don't know how a Hightopp would say yes, but in the Aboveground we sometimes do it like this," she said, a moment before she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him again.

Normally of course, she would have given him her family card in exchange for his, but Tarrant had to admit he liked Alice's way better.

"My Alice," he whispered. "My Alice, at last."
"My Tarrant Forever," she replied, holding him tight.
He rested his forehead against hers. "How are proposals done in the Above?"
"Normally, you would get on one knee, ask me to be your wife, and offer me a ring," Alice replied.
"Well that's odd," he said, puzzled, before shrugging and getting on one knee. "My Alice At Last, will you be my wife?" he repeated, head whipping around in search of a ring before he triumphantly pulled his pincushion ring off and held it up with a winning gap-toothed smile.
"Yes," she laughed, offering her left hand and instructing him as to which finger to put it on.

Now properly engaged both Above and Under, Alice and Tarrant turned their attention to celebrating with another of those scintillating kisses. She had, after all, ordered him not to stop until she was satisfied… Alice smiled. She was looking forward to a lifetime of Her Tarrant Forever fulfilling that demand. After five years, she was very much looking forward to her well-deserved Happily Ever After.