A/N: Hey everyone! Thanks so much for all the supportive reviews and all the hits, I totally appreciate it. Also I have added a few drawings of how I see the characters on my Deviant Art is anyone is interested. They are of Allyonia, Gryphon, Tempus and Charlie.
:)
The Third One
Charlie lost himself among the flittering pinkish flowers that seemed to fall like raindrops all around. He let out a wild sob, rubbing his tears into the sleeve of his shirt as he leaned against one of the thick trunks and began to cry in earnest.
The shock of what he was seeing had worn off and as soon as he had run away from his mother and thought through what was happening. She and Mr. Hightopp had been kissing and touching and not at all in a way he had ever seen before. The sheer disbelief and fear was replaced by anger and sadness. It wasn't fair. Not at all. Just when he had thought things would go back to normal (maybe even better?), when Mr. Stayne was gone and they were safe in the pretty white palace, his mother was being stolen away by some silly, Haberdasher! He wanted to yell and scream. Nothing ever worked out well. When they were in London it was just him and his mum and no one else. Everyone thought they were mad and did not want to go near them. That had suited him just fine, of course it would have been nice to have friends but his mother made up for it. It was them against the world and honestly Charlie was perfectly comfortable with that. Here no one thought they were mad but people tried to kill him (lots of the people in the castle told him Mr. Stayne had killed him- he wasn't quite sure how to deal with that) and his mother took up with strange men that made odd hats. There was certainly no excuse for that, not even if Mr. Hightopp was his father. Charlie sniffled. Perhaps she would replace him just as Stayne said she would. A horrible thought came to his mind. Perhaps that's what she was doing with Mr. Hightopp, maybe they would make other children, children that were better then him. They would get married start again with normal children who did not have horrible orange hair that grew too quickly and who could draw pictures that did not come to life. And whose eyes were green, NOT GOLD.
Oh how he hated that!
Charlie had always liked his odd eyes. His mother had always told them they made him handsome. A hero's eyes she had called them. She had always said she had fallen for his father because of those ever changing eyes. Now those were gone and she had turned to the Hatter, with his odd eyes rather then him. He felt betrayed. His mother was supposed to be on his side, not the horrible Hatter's. He was more important and they were supposed to be together, they would have to be together, after all they would have to go home sooner or later and unless Mr. Hightopp was coming with them (a frightening thought indeed) they would have to get along without him. Unless they got married and had to stay with Mr. Hightopp and learn to make hats.
The more he thought about it the worse it was.
Father? Lies. Nothing but lies. If he was a father where had he been all those years. Father's were supposed to talk to you and play catch and teach boys things. He knew this to be true. His classmates had often spoken of fathers. They were supposed to wear brown suits and work in places like banks or shops or in the service. Mr. Hightopp made hats. He wore suits that were too many colours and often looked raggedy. He did not play catch nor had he ever offered too and Charlie was sure in order to teach him something Mr. Hightopp would have to stop staring at him without blinking and start talking to him. That was another thing; Mr. Hightopp didn't ever really talk to him. He just stared at him. Whenever they ate at the White Queen's table the Hatter stared at him as if he needed to say something but couldn't find the words to say it. It made him feel like he felt in school, when the teacher would look at him with those dark eyes that said he was wrong. That there was something seriously wrong with him and it must be fixed or snuffed out. More then anything Charlie wanted to be normal. Him and his mother had a chance to start over in this amazing place, they could be normal and people wouldn't think his Mum was insane. It would not happen now and certainly not if she lived with the Hatter. The Hatter was stealing her away and with her any chances they had at a normal family. He sobbed again, it just wasn't fair.
"Interesting,"
The light masculine voice caused Charlie to nearly jumped out of his skin. He forced out a high-pitched squeak as he dated forward, toppling over his own feet in an effort to make some distance between the tree and his body. Backing up he turned his head to look at the person who had spoken.
He had not even noticed another person sitting in the orchard, in fact he was sure that there wasn't a person there and that he had been alone. Turning around to sit on his behind while leaning back on his hands, he looked up to see a man leaning against one of the trees. At least it could have been a man; the sunlight was setting and even looking closely he wasn't quite sure what the human before him really was. The man standing there was watching him carefully through eyes that looked like melted silver, his hair was long and a warm golden colour and it fell down his back in a cascade of mad, perfectly formed curls. He was very thin with long, lean legs; dove grey pants, brown leather books and a billowy navy coloured shirt that wrapped around covered light coloured skin. His thinness made Charlie think perhaps he could be a very tall woman. The man's face was delicately boned, pale with soft looking lips and eyes line with dark colour that reminded Charlie of some of the ladies that would come to his mother's parties. This man held himself in the same gentle way. He was looked at his hands as if there were some strange thing to be discovered there before Charlie realized he was checked his pocket watch. The man seemed to smile at the thing, running his fingertips over it before snapping it shut and tucking it into his shirt. Charlie reached into his own pant pockets producing the pocket watch his mother had given him when he had gone to speak to Mr. Hamish. He always carried it on him even though he was still uncertain about how to decipher the time, especially in Wonderland. He looked at the smooth golden surface and the precise ticking noise it made. He wondered if Mr. Hightopp would be taking it back seeing as it was his in the first place. The thought brought back his anxieties and angrily Charlie tightened his grip upon it.
"A beautiful piece boy," the man creature smiled, twisting gracefully away from the tree and dropping to the ground next to Charlie, "Where ever did you get it?"
Charlie pulled it a little closer to his chest, looking up to see the man staring at him. He was sure it was a man now, but just barely.
"My mother gave it to me and my father gave it to her and now it's mine." Charlie replied.
The man tilted his head; as if he were observing something only he could see. He pulled Charlie's hand from his chest so that the timepiece was exposed between them. Unable to stop him or rather curious about him Charlie simply watched as the man ran a finger over the surface of the watch, his eyes glittering in the dying sunlight.
"Your father you say?" he whispered gently, looking at the pocket watch as Charlie held it out, "Ah yes. I remember you my little friend, so many years ago and I stopped your ticking only to start it up again. "
Charlie was not sure who the man was speaking to but he had a strong notion that it was not him. The man seemed to stare at him in new light, shifting silver eyes watching the small watch on its chain. Feeling a stab of alarm Charlie tucked it back in it's place, as soon as the thing was out of sight the silver eyed man turned his attention back to him. He seemed to lean in over him, practically bracing around him like s small tree bowing in the wind. Then touched his noise into the top of Charlie's head and closing his eyes he took in a deep breath. Charlie froze like a rabbit in the jaws of a fox; not daring to move while the strange man was near him. He had heard of men who hurt children but he had never thought to see one here, not with all the knights and chess pieces to keep everyone safe. It was terrifying to realize he might be in harms way again and he froze in fear, remembering his time spent with Mr. Stayne. After a few more breaths the man seemed to back away and fix him with that intense glare, amusement dancing in his eyes.
"You smell of my brothers." he stated seriously, "You smell like my kin."
"I don't know what I smell like," Charlie replied simply, "I smell like me I think..."
The man shook his head absently. He looked so out of place in the orchard yet so unnoticeable at the same time. Charlie kept his eyes trained on the man so he wouldn't stop noticing.
"No, no I am sure of it. You smell like my kin," he grinned, standing up suddenly, "Honestly you surprise me. There are no children in Underland, none that I know of anyhow and I would know of all of them. "
Charlie smiled, he could easily answer this questions, and "I am not from Underland I am from London."
"London?" the man replied with a curious glance, "Aboveworld London? No, that cannot be."
"It's true," Charlie insisted, finding this vein of conversation easily accessible and thus granting him more confidence, "I wen to school there. You may ask my mother. Her name is Alice and she is in the palace."
"Alice?" the man questioned, a smile spreading across his face, "The Alice. What a pleasure! I knew your mother as a child. When she was just a little thing, or when she was much older. Sometime. I think I did. Anyhow I should very much like to meet her again."
Charlie smiled at the man. Perhaps he was not so bad. He seemed to be distracted again, looking around as if he were unsure of his surroundings. He turned to look at him with confused eyes.
"Where am I again?" he asked carefully, "The balance of Underland has been off for years and I get confused rather easily. I rely on the balance you see. My brothers have been fighting. Well, HAD been. One of them died recently you know."
"I'm sorry," Charlie replied instantly, "I died recently too and it's not fun."
The man didn't seem to think this statement odd and merely nodded. Charlie brushed off his clothing, looking around for a moment before reaching his hand out to the man. The man gave him a grateful smile.
"Thank you. " the man answered graciously, placing his hand in Charlie's outstretched one.
"Charlie! Charlie " A loud voice carried through the orchards.
"Come on," Charlie tugged at his new friend's hand, dragging him around, "That's my mummy and I don't want to see her right now."
Without any more of an explanation he wove through the trees, heading back to a more reclusive part of the castle where he might spend some time with his new friend on his own.
"I do not think he's here," the Gryphon replied easily, "He's not in danger, I would sense if that were the case Perhaps he's just angry with you."
Alice turned to look to her golden companion, her eyes wide with shock. She had found the Gryphon once more; or rather he had found her. He had sensed her distress and had come to her side, as he seemed to so often do. However this time she was grateful for it. She felt she needed a good support system giving how thoroughly she had buggered up everything today. Tarrant was angry with her (and for good reason, she had snapped at him) Charlie was avoiding her (either out of embarrassment or anger towards Tarrant) and she had yet to actually master what Gryphon described as one of the most basic aspects of her powers. Locating someone based on their energy. To boot their brother was supposed to be arriving any moment now. A brother she was not too intent on meeting. There was to be a trial and the outcome was very uncertain. She was sure the stake were high but Gryphon was keeping pretty tight lipped about the entire ordeal, as if discussing it was a crime in and of itself. The moment she had seen him she had grabbed the Gryphon's hand and dragged him through the orchard, at least she would not have to search for Charlie alone and Gryphon would be able to sense his nearness. However they had had little luck and now that the sun she knew looking was a silly notion and she would have to trust her teacher's word that her son was in no danger.
"So what is your brother like?" Alice asked, relieved that her son was safe but dreading the necessity of speaking to Charlie of what he had seen.
Gryphon chuckled at that, turning his dark eyes to her, "He was the youngest of us of course. My twin and I were always a great deal more flamboyant in both appearance and manners. Time was smaller, just as important but not as noticeable. For as much as people pay attention to Time unless you purposely do so you rarely see or feel it's passing. He is more of a wanderer, his roles not clearly defined. He comes and goes as he pleases, does as he wishes but must forever remain in the mortal realm. Unlike the Jabberwocky and myself Time has not choice of sleeping away centuries. He has always been in his form whatever that form might be."
"What do you mean?" Alice asked, turning to look at him.
The Gryphon smiled his painfully handsome smile, his mouth quirking at the question.
"You and I shall see Time as he truly is, as he was born to be. But just as this is not my form his form is different for those who look upon him. " The Gryphon replied easily, "Most Underlandanders see him as he appears in their mind. Sometimes old or sometimes young, male or female, animal or human. It's all in how you see him. Since we are in human form he will likely take human form but if he makes no effort to change his form and hold it, it is forever changing. He also grows bored easily. He can be quite fickle. I believe that is why your lover murdered him once."
Alice stopped short, her eye wide.
"Tarrant murdered Time?" she gasped.
"Attempted to," the Gryphon chuckled, "Although as much as anyone can kill Time he can never truly die. Not really. Anyhow the Red Queen held the trial and my brother became so offended at the entire ordeal he stormed out and stopped time from passing for the Hatter. I believed they have been on the outs ever since although I haven't spoken to him in many lifetimes."
Alice thought the entire ideal one of the queerest things she had confronted in Wonderland but in the end she was willing to accept it. She turned to look at Gryphon once more.
"So he will hold a trial for us?" she asked now.
"Yes," Gryphon sighed, "Of the three of us Time is the most impartial. In fact Time is always called to witness the most important trials in Underland. After all only Time can tell how what the true effects of a person's actions will be. Sadly I had heard from Jabberwocky that in the last few generation the imbalance of power has seriously upset Time, offsetting his mind. I make no claim to how sane or impartial he might be. If he has lost his ability to think clearly we are in a very real sort of danger."
"You mean he would kill us, can he do that?" Alice asked tentatively, "Wait, you said he sees how things play out. Do you mean he has the ability to see the future?"
The Gryphon stopped walking, turning immediately and looking down at her with his serious eyes. His jovial mood had evaporated. He gripped her by both shoulders and stared at her intensely.
"You must not question that and never try It." he admonished, all the childlike wonder gone, "We each have our own domains. It will one day within your power to see the future. But you must inform me the moment you are able to do it, you must learn to control it so as to never do it again."
Alice felt a chill run up her spine, "Why?"
The Gryphon shook his head, making the platinum blond hair swing from side to side, "It is a great burden to see the future. You shall soon be bound by the same rules my brothers and I were bound too. In fact it is amazing that you were able to survive this long as it is, I would not throw temptation into the pot of things you are being forced to cope with. When one can see the future non interference is so difficult. You will not be able to stop any of the horrors that befall those around you until one day you will try and then you will become too dark to contain yourself."
"The Jabberwocky's appearance..." she whispered softly.
"Exactly," Gryphon replied, "My brother saw the Red Queen and what her reign would do so he placed himself in a position to stop her. He made himself her weapon with the hope that he would be able to put a stop to her madness. However the moment he placed himself in the influence of mortals he became tangled in their web, interwoven."
Alice's brow furrowed, "You mean like Fate?"
The Gryphon's eyes grew comically wide and he pressed his hand against her mouth suddenly, "Don't speak her name. If she hears you she might turn her eyes upon you and no one wants that. We definitely don't want her involved and if she discovers what has happened she will involve herself, she always does. We've managed to keep her from Underland proper in a great long while, it would not be wise to invite her back in this time of turmoil. Time will deal with this in his way. He is burdened with future and past. You will see what I mean..."
"Are you certain?" Alice pushed, "It seems to me like you need someone to intervene in this situation."
"Not her," he replied sharply.
The Gryphon stopped speaking for a moment before closing his eyes. A breeze seemed to lift his hair, his nose taking in a deep breath. He smiled at the sensation, as if the wind itself was telling him something.
"Come Alice, we must hurry to the throne room. Our brother arrives and all welcome him."
Mirana had intercepted Tarrant almost accidentally, nearly walked straight into the raving man as he crossed through the colonnades, pacing back and forth like an angry, caged animal. She had known Tarrant for a great deal of time, before his madness even, and if there was one thing she knew how to do it was anticipate his madness. She had to approach him slowly, watching as he moved quickly from side to side, as if he were locked in his own madness, muttering many rather creative outlandish curses she had not heard in some time. Her gaze looked out nervously to the nearby trees, hoping those in the grove were not close enough to hear the poison anger seeping from the milliner's mouth. She stood off to the side for a few moments as he looked up at her, unseeing her at first before the more controlled part of his mind seemed to overtake him and he came too. She watched as his green eyes reasserted themselves, chasing away the angry orange gleam of madness. She smoothed her dress and made herself as soft and serene as possible.
"Hatter?" she asked gently, "Tarrant?"
He raised his eyes to her, the swirling amber colour dangerously close to orange as the green tried for dominance. She nearly gasped; no one in all of Underland had ever come up with a credible explanation for the Hightopp eyes. It was one of those glorious mysteries that surrounded the rather secretive clan. However, everyone could agree they were stunning in their ability to reflect the mood of the person, it was as if all the Hightopps wore their feelings in their eyes (which they really did) shamelessly proclaiming their anger, hate, love and happiness for all to see. They were a sight to behold and more times then not Mirana had wished her own dark eyes could portray the sort of depth that Tarrant's did.
"She said I was unneeded," he snapped, "She said it as if it was nothing, as if she were asking for the time. There is no time, I gave it all to her and she took it and now there is no longer any need for me. I yelled at her."
Not quite sure what he was saying Mirana did the only thing she knew might possible help, she comforted, "Come now Hatter, it cannot be all that bad. What has happened?"
He related the story to her in great detail and Mirana had to stifle a laugh at the idea of Charlie catching Alice and the Hatter together. The boy had worked his way into her heart and despite her worry at his lack of affection towards her dear friend she found the child to be in possession of the Hightopp charm in spades. She had never really known a child before and if Charlie was to go by she could see why Alice had gone to such great lengths to keep him safe. She could also see why Alice was so concerned.
"I am certain she did not mean to be cruel," the Queen smiled, "she was probably embarrassed at being caught in such a state."
"What state?' Tarrant asked confusedly, "I am sure I have no idea what you mean."
"Well most women are not comfortable with their children witnessing a moment of… passion with their paramours." she replied as smoothly as possible.
The Hatter seemed to pause at this, as if he had never considered it before. Brow furrowed he turned to look at Mirana with questioning eyes.
"Are you certain my Queen?" he asked, the sense of disbelief was clear in his tone, "It would make a great deal more sense I would think. But it must not be. When I was a child I must have done the same thing to my parents a dozen times or so. They had a good laugh at it. I admit they did turn a little yellow in the eyes and my father spoke to me on it..."
"Tarrant you must remember Alice if not from Underland." she suggested gently, "Aboveworld has different rules."
He nodded and then looked at her again with a rouged blush staining his cheeks, "To have such a silly rule. After all, if not for that then the child would never have been born at all. I was not as if we were in a true state of, um, undress."
The Queen smiled at him and placed a comforting hand on his arm.
"The boy is also from Aboveworld and he is rather young," she mused, "he might not even know how he was created."
That seemed to stop the Hatter once again. She could see he was pulling from the anger, moving back into his more well tempered self. She wanted to scream sometimes with the horror the Horunvendush Day had caused. Years ago, in her court, Tarrant had been such a happy creature. Madness was of course, a risk with his profession and she knew that eventually most of the Hightopps went totally mad; even then they seemed content in their madness. Oft times it was so intertwined with their talents and genius no one in Underland could tell whether a Hightopp was truly mad or just incredibly gifted. Still they were a close-knit clan, all with incredible talent and abilities. To think that Iracebeth had allowed the destruction of such a clan in a nasty power play, well she had done what she could to forget that day. To banish the screams of the children. In all honestly it was that small seed of anger and darkness and she and her sister had been born with that kept her alive and sane. The fact that Tarrant had not had that darkness had been his downfall; he was tethered so close to madness that even the slightest push would have careened him over. Witnessing the mass murder of his family, well that had been overstepping the line.
"Is that all your upset about?" Mirana asked carefully.
"He hates me." Tarrant replied soberly without any need to explain whom he was referring to, "I want to explain why he shouldn't but when I look at him I just see everyone else on that day and then I can't speak."
She felt the sting of pity for her red haired friend and reached over to comfortingly place a hand on his forearm.
"Does he look much like your family?" Mirana asked carefully.
Instead of the sadness she expected the Hatter actually grinned, "Aye, just like them. You remember my mother?"
"Oh yes," Mirana smiled, this time it was unhindered by worry and instead was a pure honest expression of happiness, "Miss Allyonia was a lovely lady. She made me my first dress and bonnet. I was just a girl then."
The Hatter seemed to perk up at this, "I think I remember that. I was probably no more then a child. It was so, so long ago. Before time stopped for me. They are good memories."
Mirana smiled, trying to recall that moment. She could call to mind being very excited about it, her mother and sister both were with her while she was being presented with the finished product. Fittings had been done, promises made and then before her a dress so while it could have been spun from moonbeams and so light it seemed to be made from gossamer. She was afraid simply touching it would ruin it but the dressmaker and laughed at her kindly and had helped her into it. She tried to picture the face of the woman but she could not, all she could remember was the hair.
"She had red hair, " Mirana stated suddenly, her eyes fixing on the Hatter, "Just like Charlie's."
The Hatter nodded, "Aye, mine is a bit more on the orange side. Mercury you see. My mother was a renowned beauty of Witzend and not of the main Hightopp branch. They were all like that, with their long red curls and stunning eyes. Normally blue you see, or gray, quite a rarity in the clan. She might have been a distant relation but close enough distance as to make her a good match for my father. He was already your father's Hatter if I recall correctly and as a wedding present the Red King himself presided over the marriage himself."
Mirana smiled, "My mother loved yours dearly. She was her greatest supporter and confidant. As you have always been mine. She would be quite proud I would think."
Tarrant lowered his face, a blush upon his cheeks.
"I do not recall your mother's eyes colour." Mirana continued, seeing the positive note this vein was inspiring.
"Her eyes were blue." he replied softly, almost adoringly, "The bluest blue you had ever seen. As bright as the sky itself"
"Oh so you must have inherited your green eyes from your father." she stated.
It only took her a few seconds to realize she had said the wrong thing. His arm grew stiff in her grasp; his face grew hard and angry. She could see the dark orange colour slip into the pools of green.
"I received nothing from him." The Hatter ground out coldly his voice so sharp it could cut glass.
She was about to apologize, to say something to diffuse the situation when suddenly a frantic Bayard came running down the hall, pups at his heels. He skidded to a stop right before them, panting and his eyes wild.
"Your Majesty, you are needed in the throne room. Time is here and he has the boy." Bayard panted.
Mirana didn't have to look to know Tarrant's ire had dissipated. Her dark eyes sought out his green ones. Without a world they both bolted down the white hallway intent on the throne room and the necessary defense of the sole child of Underland.
