The Wrong Alice
Chapter 3/5
Characters: Alice/Tarrant
Rating: M, hinted at but not quite yet
Summary: What if Alice had made the trip to Underland more than she remembers while growing up? Of course there would have to be someone in Underland who remembered every single time she stumbled in…
Slowly lowering his crumpled frame into the soft bed that occupied a great deal of space in his guest suite of Marmoreal, Tarrant laid on his back and stared at the high ceiling. Surely all of the memories that had crowded his brain all evening would haunt his dreams. There was not enough room inside his head for both the pleasant dreams he wished for and the dark memories that would simply not be swept away. Sighing heavily, he began to create imaginary hats instead, trying to relax enough to drift to sleep. Soon enough his eyes became heavy…
Charred and black, the ruins of his clan lay scattered around him. The smells were still as pungent as the first time he had breathed them in. Burnt wood, moss and leaves mixed with the scent of a sickening sweetness…feathers and fabric and…he didn't want to think of what else might hang in the air. The fire and smoke had etched their colors onto the landscape forever, altering the warm friendly hues that had been, replacing them with angry oranges and reds. His large eyes watered and he rubbed at them absently while struggling to convince himself it was only a dream, nay - a memory, too strong to wake from.
Spying something familiar, something he thought he had forever lost that day, Tarrant bent low to pick up his tattered and torn hat. His beloved creation. In order to pass from apprentice to master a student had to create a hat that was an artistic representation of themselves, so much so that the hat would be bound to them, grow and stretch and change with them as they moved through life. Somehow, the fact that this – his first hat, his only hat – had survived had given him the will to press on. Albeit with a bit more madness than had previously inhabited his soul.
Feeling his anger rise as the memory played on, feeling the insanity grip his heart, he whirled around with malicious intent as footfalls entered his consciousness from behind. The memory that he was tangled up in bent and fogged slightly as a figure made its way through the edge the burnt meadow. Light blue smudged through the harsh fiery colors and Tarrant sucked in a breath, holding it as the graceful shape made its way closer, turning the memory into a dream, for surely this hadn't happened that terrible day so many years ago.
"Hatter?"
He would know that voice anywhere. Alice was slowly materializing in front of his eyes, close to the age that she had recently been, her champion age, but not quite. She had on a long blue nightgown and her lovely blond hair was pulled back with a silk ribbon. He was aware of the scene that was drifting around them, changing to accommodate another memory of a wrong Alice. Yet this memory was not as clear as the first, it's ending remained hidden…closing his eyes he fought to awaken, to be anywhere but facing her. She had left…she had left…
"How very strange." She said slowly, closer now, and yet Tarrant refused to open his eyes. It had been bad enough to have to relive the day that had ended his clan but to bring her through…had he been cruel to his memories? Locked them up too tightly? Was this revenge of some kind?
"I was asleep, dreaming of my father, telling me a wonderful story while we strolled in the garden and then…I took a turn…and…"
Unable to resist her sweet voice, Tarrant resigned himself to the fact that he would have to relive the memory in order to be rid of it. Slowly he opened his eyes and what captivated his vision immediately were the red rimmed and slightly puffy eyes staring back at him. Instantly his hands clasped hers and he moved closer, concern overcoming any sense of propriety, although he did not know if proper rules existed inside dreams and memories.
"Alice dear, what is the matter?" He lifted a cautious hand to her cheek and slowly rubbed a rough finger over her smooth skin. She sighed and closed her eyes, leaning against his touch. Moments of silence passed as they stood together.
"My father has passed away." Voice cracking, her eyes opened slowly and gazed into his. The need to console her spread from the top of his hat to the tips of his toes and he slid his free hand around her waist, pulling her to him. She moved into his embrace as her own hands wound around him. "He was the only one who ever listened to my impossible tales and imaginations."
"I am so sorry" Tarrant whispered against her hair and placed a gentle kiss against the crown of her head. Her arms tightened around him, her body pressing further against him and into his protective embrace.
"I was thinking of Wonderland before I fell asleep…of how he would inquire of my adventures here, indulging my dreams." She tilted her head up and he watched as tears built in her eyes and moved down her pale skin. "I wanted nothing more than to be here, to see…to see you…"
"You have always been welcome in Underland and always will be Alice." Smiling sadly, Tarrant brushed away the paths of her tears and moved slowly to kiss her cheek. She sighed, a look of deeper sadness moving across her face. Standing on her toes, she pressed an innocent kiss to his lips. That kiss, that simple kiss jolted though him and he remembered the rest of the memory instantly. He wanted to awaken before it all played out. He wasn't sure his heart would survive this yet again…
"With my father gone, there is no one who will believe me. I have to…I need to forget…"
"No Alice. Please stop." Tarrant shook with terror as he felt trapped, doomed to relive this horrid moment.
"The memory of this place hurts so much…I will need to help mother, to secure a life that would benefit both of us."
"Alice…love…please, please…I beg you…"
"I cannot come back to Won…" Tarrant took hold of her and pressed his mouth to hers possessively. It might be the wrong Alice but if she was never going to return again, if this torment was the only way he could have her he would fight and twist the memory into a dream. The time they had recently spent together had been too much. Her gazes and smiles, the way she had become the proper Alice size…he had been so sure it was the right Alice!
His hands moved from her waist to her back and then wound up into her hair. He deepened the kiss and groaned as she pressed herself hotly against him, her own hands gripping onto his coat. Releasing her mouth, he pressed warm kisses against her cheek, her ear, her neck…whispering, pleading with her not to go, not to forget, she had to remember to come back to him…
Gasping, Tarrant awoke with a strangled cry as he found his arms empty, his dream gone in a heartbeat. The memory remained. He had never told her to remember, never kissed her so passionately. Just had let her go to live her life, for surely she had been the wrong Alice yet again and – at that time – he was sure the right Alice would come to him. Shortly after that visit he had argued fiercely with time about the right Alice coming to Underland…
In the pale morning sun, he began to weep at the loss that struck his chest. He could not go on waiting for the right Alice to come into his life. The only way he would be able to retain the slight grip on his sanity would be to push her aside as she had done to him that awful day. As she always had. She had always left and would never stay.