"Better?" barked Bielle.
Big Badness' burr burbled balefully.
"Bitter," bandied blithely boyish blood brothers.
"Beware!" bellowed Bayard.
Blinded, broken baying blasted back.
Tarrant Hightopp woke with a start, his heart thumping in his chest like a drum. His eyes, for some reason, remained closed to the bright sunlight that he had apparently decided to bask in while he set about re-learning his body.
"Hullo, bones, how are you lads? Anything broken?"
He wriggled his toes and feet, working the shivers over his calves and (dimpled knees) thighs, noting no unusual complaints from his lower muscles. He then repeated the process with his hands and arms, again noting no unusual complaints. This was not to say that there were no complaints, but that the complaints did not refer to broken bones, torn tendons, or macerated muscles.
Bruises, aches and torn skin? Quite ordinary, actually.
His eyes were still being a bit stubborn about the strength of the sunlight, so he left them closed while he got to work on sitting up.
"Right, with your cooperation, back, we shall sit up on the count of three. Ready? Very good! One, two, three!"
Tarrant began to rise and, quite unexpectedly, he was on the verge of screaming; apparently he had done something particularly strenuous behind there.
"You'll rather not want to try getting up now, Hatter."
"Contrariwise, if you try to get up, you'll find that you'd rather you didn't."
"Good day, boys," Tarrant bit out while steadfastly ignoring their bungled advice. Through the painful spasms of his back, the Hatter did not realize that he had yet to open his eyes; in fact, they were screwed shut rather tightly due to the pulsating agony he was experiencing.
"I don't suppose you could tell me what exactly happened?"
Before either Tweedledee or Tweedledum could break the news, Bayard and his wife barked sharply.
"Bayard? Is that you, old fellow? Were you here all this time?"
"Naturally, Hatter. How are you feeling?" Bayard rumbled in his deep voice while Bielle explained the need for discretion to the twin brothers.
"Quite frankly, I feel rather like one of Thackery's thrown tea-cups - not quite all together," Tarrant replied hesitantly. "Did- did I, perhaps, have a Bad Day?"
Bayard chuffed. It had been more like a bad month.
"Well, I suppose you've had better," Tweedledum replied blithely.
"Contrariwise, you've not had much worse," Tweedledee added.
"Unnecessary, boys!" Bielle barked sharply, using her great head to box both sets of ears. "Now Hatter, you just stay in bed for a bit - maybe the rest of today - and I'm certain you'll be a beamish boy by tomorrow morning. We can get you anything that you need unt-"
Tarrant Hightopp tuned out the bloodhound's motherly muttering as he put his hands to his stubborn eyes. Why, in the name of the White Queen, did they refuse to open?
"-And if you would, dear Hatter, please do not pick at the bandages over your eyes!"
Bayard woofed softly to his wife, who bit her tongue. Botheration; the dear bitch did have a tendency to babble when she was babying someone.
Bayard's warning was belated. Tarrant had already clutched at the bandages as he remembered things - images - ugly and violent and horribly full of desperate begging. He had begged her to stay, acting lower than a mimsy borogove as his Madness brought Loneliness to the forefront.
'How mimsy! How slurvish! How slurking!'
"How long?" the Hatter croaked, his throat suddenly locking up on a well of shame and self-loathing.
"Now, Hatter, we all understan-" Bayard started in a soothing tone. Tarrant was having none of that.
"How long?"
"We're not sure," the twins answered as one voice. Tarrant could feel his shoulders beginning to hunch in disgust. That long. No wonder he'd awoken with neither Badness or Madness rampaging through his head - they'd been in there so long that they'd gotten bored and finally left for a while, leaving Himself to pick up the pieces.
"No-one else is injured?" he asked breathlessly, already picturing the chaos he could have caused.
"Oh no, dear boy," Bielle answered quickly - almost too quickly. "You left everyone else well alone - you seemed more inclined to...to...well..."
"You were bound and determined to hurt yourself is what they're trying to work themselves around to," Chessur revealed nonchalantly, his grin firmly fixed on his smoky face. "You gave a great heave at clawing your own eyes out and, when that didn't work, you threw yourself out of a window, landing on your back. You still had that dreadful broadsword of yours in one hand and were setting up to throw yourself on it, so then Bayard and Bielle had to tackle you to the ground while the boys stripped you of your weapon."
Both bloodhounds fixed the evaporating cat with baleful stares, but Tarrant did not seem to mind - while the cat was a blasted hat-guddler, he at least told him the unvarnished truth about situations - on the few occasions that the cat bothered to speak with him.
"How long, Chessur?" he pleaded with the cat - he had an urgent Need to understand how long he had wandered in the Darkness of his own mind again. A masochistic desire to know how much worse he had gotten after two years of virtual peace.
"Three weeks, then another 3 days for you to get better," Chessur answered lazily, his voice schooled into boredom. "Even when you're batty, you still won't give me that beautiful hat - I asked once a day for it, but you tended to swing that bothersomely big knife at me."
If Tarrant could see, his eyes would be wider than Mally's favorite saucers. A whole month lost in his own brains? Badness snorted and told him that he deserved no less fer tryin' tuh ooppress him, dinnae he ken?
He sighed audibly as Madness bubbled up, briskly berating Badness for his brusqueness. So much for his peace and quiet. He was too tired to suppress his trademark giggles as Badness and Madness reacquainted Themselves with Himself.
"Actually, we are wondering if you could tell us what triggered this...episode, dear Hatter."
Everyone other than the Hatter whirled around as Mallymkun, Thackery and McTwisp led Mirana into the room. If anything, Tarrant Hightopp's back bowed lower, despite the bindings he could now feel around his ribs.
He could feel the weight of Expectation as it bore down on him. He twitched it off angrily, but it merely descended again, heavier than ever, in the form of Mally running up his backbone to sit on his shoulders.
"G' on, luv, tell us wot's wrong. Me 'n' Thackery 'aven't even seen you eva' since Frabjous Day! Y've been wolkin' all ov'r Underlan' 'n' once y've been back, you throw a massive Fit! We're worried 'bout you, you silly lump, s' tell us somethin' - anythin' - s'that we's can 'elp you!"
"Better blue!" Thackery added wisely. "Bread-and-butterflies! Bloomers!"
The image of Alice in her chemise and knickers came to his mind all unbidden and it was with that last word that Tarrant told them everything, his burdens breaking him. He belittled himself constantly as he babbled but he didn't hide a thing, baring himself completely, barely restrained from bodily throwing himself beneath Mirana's merciful feet by the bloodhounds and the boys.
"-and the last thing I remember is breaking the mirror I think but I couldn't find any glass to gouging her image out of my silly dreamy eyes and oh by the White I was begging her to stay and thenshewasgoneagain because shewasa-!"
"Hatter!" his audience cried as one, their combined bellow pushing Madness below the surface.
"-Bonnet! I'm fine. Thank you," he mumbled as he brought himself up short, his face buried in his bound hands. "Oh, by the marvel of Marmoreal, you must think I have finally gone completely gallymoggers!
Queen Mirana wafted over to Tarrant's bedside, her hands flitting away his bodyguards as she gently settled next to him. She tenderly turned his blind face towards her own, momentarily ignoring his tears of self-flagellation as she braced herself to tell him their latest insight into the future.
"Hatter...I have been consulting with Absolem. He- he has been in Otherland for quite sometime now."
Wondrous titters rose into the air from the assembly, but Mirana realized that Tarrant was no longer breathing.
He was Waiting, with bated breath, for her to continue. She did so with reluctance - she probably should have told him a wee White Lie, but she honestly felt that this slightly unhinged man deserved the basic courtesy of Knowing The Truth.
"Absolem...has seen her. He has seen Alice."
The Hatter jumped, his muscles rippling in brief batches between his scalp and his sole. He still did not speak, nor did he resume inhaling.
"She is currently in possession of a rather strange mirror. We do not think that it was created in the Otherland - it seems to speak Outlandish, at any rate. That's what Alice was thinking about when it woke up - Outlandish and Outlanders."
Finally, Hatter drew in air, one enormous gulp. He was rather glad now that his eyes were banded down - he was quite sure that he did not want everyone to know what he was feeling.
The White Queen was not so easy to fool. She softly reached behind his head and began to undo his bandages. Tarrant winced with each layer removed as the sunlight struck his eyes with solid blows of heat and radiance. Eventually, the last layer was gone and Mirana directed Chessur to lick each scratched eyelid before sitting back while the magic went to work.
"Hatter, you are far from crazy. Please, open your eyes - both inside and outside."
Tarrant wanted to resist - he never wanted to see again! But this was the White Queen - the woman to whom he had sworn his clan's everlasting allegiance. He did not have the leisure of disobeying her and so he peeled his eyes open and he saw again.
At the foot of the bed was the man-sized looking glass - no longer dusty and smeared, but glistening in the light of the morning. He stared at Himself, who waved nervously from the reflection. The blushes around his eyes had been marred by long scars that were already fading, thanks to Chessur, however his face looked like he had fallen into bramble bushes. A small testament to the Fury with which he had attacked Himself, spared only by his ever present thimbles.
More importantly, his eyes were still violet - not green, nor gold, nor red, but a deep, plummy violet. The color his Pa's eyes used to turn when he kissed his Ma. The color that had drained from his sister's irises as the Jabberwocky slew the White Queen's first Champion.
The color of love - once found, still living, till Death.
He watched Himself in amazement even as Mirana moved behind him, her hands held daintily above his shaking shoulders as her dark eyes grew quite sad.
"This mirror is, apparently, the twin to Alice's. They are almost impossible to shatter and they communicate with each other when they are awakened by the correct words or thoughts. Right now, Hatter, you and Alice appear to be the only ones who can use them and, very soon, I will have need of you both. Please show him, Thackery, McTwisp."
The Hare and the Rabbit bounced onto the bed and drew their pocket-watches out.
"All wrong!" Thackery giggled insanely, his eyes rolling around in their sockets. "All wrong like no rain in Spain!"
"Sadly, he's right," McTwisp agreed as the two animals held their time-pieces up in the mirror.
Tarrant stared bemusedly at the watches' reflections, Comprehension obviously not in the mood to dawn for at least another few minutes. Then, when it did, it sent Tarrant digging into his sporran for his own well-buttered pocket-watch.
He Himself never knew that his eyes could grow so wide.
"Time - that absolute scrum! Ah shouldnae left him tuh run around hows'ev'r he pleased!" the Hatter roared as he looked back at Mirana, wisps of red threading through the violet. "Tha' bluhdy piece o' shukm - does he ken tha' he's runnin' backwards?"
The White Queen nodded wearily in confirmation. She had seen the effects all over Underland for the past few days, the flowers and trees already suffering as Dawn ran into Midnight and Sunset bumped into Brillig. She drew her Courage around her like a cloak as she soldier on with the bad news that Absolem and the Oraculum had revealed.
"And only too soon, my friends, I fear that we shall be back to where we started - Frabjous Day, and the slaying of the Jabberwocky. Minus our Champion."
[~~~]