A/N: This'll be a rather short story. Ten chapters at the most. If I make it any longer than that, I'll lose my head.
Ascot was scribbling some figures at the desk in his room in the little inn they were staying at when he heard the door open.
"They brought this to my room," Alice explained, bringing one of his bags in.
"I was looking for that earlier," he said. "Thanks."
"Still working?" she teased, shutting the door behind her.
"I'm surprised you're not," he said, putting his quill down for the moment. "I would think speaking with the tailor and hatter earlier would have inspired you."
"It did," she admitted, sighing as she plopped down on the bed. "It just seems like there's so much to do. We promised the Norwegians that we'd come back next year, we're due back in China in June, and then we need to somehow fit a return to Indonesia in there before we're done, and you know we need to get to Japan soon, or every other company in every other Western country is going to have a foothold there before us, and - "
"Usually when you're under this kind of stress you flourish, Alice," Ascot said, concerned. "What's really bothering you?"
Alice let out another heavy sigh. "Don't you ever wonder if there's something more? I mean, I love seeing all these countries and exploring the world, of course. I can't imagine not doing it. But sometimes I wonder…"
There it was. He knew it was going to happen sooner or later, and had dreaded the day ever since he had first taken her on as an apprentice. It would mean the end of his hopes, the end of his dreams for the company, the end of everything.
Alice Kingsleigh wanted to settle down.
"I'm sure a Season home will make everything clearer," he said, with an ache in his chest. She'd settle for a man who didn't deserve her at all, and leave him and the company – which did deserve her, if nothing else – all the poorer for it.
She snorted, very unlady-like. "As if a Season could ever do anything for me. Why don't you let me stay here?"
He raised his eyebrows, and she grinned slightly. "Not forever, of course. Just a week or so. Time enough to set up trade with this little town properly and not rushed because you're so desperate to get back to London? I won't be too long."
"But I thought you said we had far too much to do," he argued.
"We do. But have you seen Mr. Hightopp's hats? All the ladies in London would quite die for one."
"We cannot set up an entire trading route based on one tailor's need for fur and one hatter's need to sell his product," he pointed out. She shrugged.
"It doesn't need to be a full route. We promised the Norwegians we'd come back next year, wouldn't we? So on the way back we stop here, drop off some fur, pick up some hats and other nonsense they wish us to bring south, and sell it just in time for the Season."
"You're right, of course," he sighed, Alice's ideas always wining him over. "The Captain said we'll be ready to sail tomorrow night. How much longer do you need after that?"
"I can find a carriage for myself, so don't worry about it. I'll be home for New Year's," she said, jumping up from the bed and heading to the door.
"Do make an effort to come and say goodbye to me tomorrow evening, won't you?" he called as she opened the door.
"Of course," she said, smiling sweetly. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight," he replied, and when he heard the door click shut, he turned back to his figures.
Alice was dreaming again.
"Mallymkun?" she called into the darkness. "Where are you?"
"Alice," called a weak voice.
"She's hallucinating again," a second, more nervous voice pointed out. "She won't last long without medicine."
"She's there," Mally argued, but rather ineffectively as a dehabilitating cough racked her tiny frame.
"No, she's not. She's not coming back."
"Just because you weren't the one sent to get her this time, McTwisp? Are you doubting our hatter?" a third voice asked.
"Mirana?" Alice wondered, running through the darkness to get to the voices.
"She's asking for you, your majesty," Mally coughed.
"Humans can't go into Overland!"
"I'm a human!" Alice argued. "Why can't I be in Overland?"
But no one heard her but the dying dormouse.
"It's no use," Mally told her. "Alice, please. We need you."
"Why have they done this to you?" Alice cried, staring at the bloody, chained form of the tortured mouse. Every voice was coming from what looked like a separate cell, but she could only see the birdcage that Mally was being kept in.
"You must find the hatter," she replied. "He's supposed to find you, but McTwisp says he won't."
"He will!" the queen insisted. "He must!"
"He must, because if he doesn't it'll be off with our heads!" the rabbit exclaimed. "But he won't because humans can't!"
"Humans can!" Alice insisted. "How can I find him? How can I help?"
"Find the hatter," Mally repeated. "He knows how to get you here again."
"Not anymore he doesn't! With all due respect, your majesty, that was a terrible plan."
"Shut it, McTwisp," Alice said, more to herself since she knew he couldn't hear her. "What happened?"
"Find the hatter," Mally repeated.
"This plan is absolutely mad," the rabbit muttered.
Just then the door opened with a loud bang. She jumped, and turned to see the Red Knave walk in. She gasped. "But he can't possibly be - "
"Has anyone decided to talk yet?" he asked to the dungeon at large. He was met with a silence, broken only by the whimpering of terrified creatures.
"No one? Very well, then. Who's next?"
The light glinted off the knife he took from his belt, and Alice gasped at the implication.
"Now, remember," he said, coming up to one of the cells. "This can stop whenever one of you wants to tell me where Alice is."
"I'm right here!" Alice screamed suddenly, realizing that Mally was tortured for her whereabouts, and more of her friends were about to be as well. "I'm right here!" she screamed, attempting to beat the knave but simply falling right through him.
"I'm right here!" she screamed, over and over again. "Let them go! I'm right here! You bloody coward! I'm right here! Fight me instead!"
She was crying again, and usually when she felt her tears it meant she would be waking up soon. "No, no! Stayne! I'm right here!" she shrieked, desperate to get his attention before she disappeared and left her friends to their mercy. "I'm right here!"
"I'm right here…right here…right…"
Where was she? She was forgetting again. Who was hurt? What was going on? She needed to stop someone from doing something, and she need to find…someone…something…
She woke up screaming, and called it a nightmare for the first time in years.
The view from this coastal town was really quite nice, she noted, wrapped in a warm shawl, sitting on a rock on a cliff looking out into the sea. It could almost clear out the horror her unremembered nightmare had etched in her heart. She couldn't remember why she had woke up screaming, and was trying to piece together what fragments she could. She sniffed, disliking crying even at this ungodly early hour and a good ways out of town.
It was madness, being so disturbed over a dream.
It would be a miracle if she could ever have normal dreams.
It was Melum…Milli..Or Mc…Mac…Or was it Mer…Mar…?
"Ah, you've discovered my spot," a voice said, forcibly pulled her from her musings. She jumped, and turned around to discover the town hatter – the hatter? – approaching.
"Your spot?" she asked.
"It's a good place for remembering," he said. "I come here every morning. May I join you?"
"Well, I suppose I can't very well say no, if it is truly your spot," Alice said, moving over slightly. He sat on the grass next to her rock and looked out over the sea. The sun had not yet risen, nor was it due to for a few hours.
"What are you trying to remember?" Alice asked.
"A great many things," he shrugged. "What are you trying to remember?"
She frowned, and wondered if her musings counted as remembering. "I'm pondering things that begin with the letter M," she said.
"That sounds quite fun," he told her. "I do that quite often."
"What do you come up with?" she asked.
"Well, there's a great many things that begin with the letter M," he began. "Morning, malady, memory…"
"Memory?"
"I'm afraid I don't know much about memory. Ah, there's another one!"
"Much?"
"Much, mad, miracle, mouse - "
"Mouse!" Alice exclaimed.
"That was what you were trying to remember?" Tarrant asked, raising an eyebrow.
"One of them, maybe."
"Are there many?"
"More than you would think."
"Marvelous! I could do this all day."
Alice laughed then, a loud, hearty laugh that chased away the last of the anxiety about her nightmare. The hatter looked quite pleased with himself, and when she had finished her laughter, asked why she was trying to remember things that began with an M.
"It seems important," she frowned. "But I think it might be a name with an M I need."
"Mouse isn't a name," he pointed out. "But if you're looking for names with an M, this is a pretty good town for it."
"You're name doesn't begin with an M," she said.
"I'm not from here," he explained.
"You're not?" she asked. "Where are you from?
"That's what I'm trying to remember," he sighed. "It was only about a year ago when Walker found me wandering across the Scottish countryside, knowledge of nothing but my name and how to hat."
"But that's terrible!" she exclaimed, feeling a sharp stab of pity in her heart. "You haven't found your family or know where you're from, or anything like that at all?"
"For some reason, I feel like I have no family," he said, feeling the memory of family even more distant than the memory of himself. "As if they've all passed on, and I'm the only one left. And as if I have a mission to complete. But I can't remember for the life of me. I've been trying to remember for so long, but so far nothing has come back. Until you came, of course. You're the only one I've ever come close to 'recognizing.' You can't remember anywhere where you might have seen me?"
She shook her head sadly. "I'm very sorry, Mr. Hightopp."
"Please, call me Tarrant," he sighed.
"I can try to help you remember, though," she said hopefully. "I'm staying here for awhile after our ship leaves. Maybe when I remember the names with an M, I can remember where I know you from."
"Do you forget things a lot?" he asked.
"Not often. Just something important," she said, unsure as to how to explain the Important Thing.
"Do you ever remember things here?"
"Sometimes," he shrugged. "Nothing big, but small things like how to make a certain type of tea, or bizarre dances."
"Like the quadrille?" she giggled.
He laughed, but shook his head. "No, like the…" he struggled, unsure as to how futterwacken would sound to a lady, and unwilling to demonstrate at the moment. He was feeling far too melancholy. "I don't know. I'll show you on the day we remember."
"Okay. That's a deal. I'm holding you to it," she told him seriously.
"Of course, Miss Kingsleigh."
"Alice," she told him, and he grinned.
"Alice," he repeated, and it sounded so familiar that he thought perhaps he had actually remembered something today after all. But how could one remember a name that was already known? That couldn't be remembering, could it? But then the thought occurred to them both at the same time:
Her name did sound particularly right when it came from his lips.
She smiled a shy smile at him, and they both turned to stare at the horizon for a little while longer.
