A/N: This one is a long one, I'll warn you guys of that at the start!
Time glared at the Hatter at the end of the table, wondering why Alice was so intent on saving this Underlandian, who was turning out to be nothing but a right pain in his cogs. The three lunatics had taken to cracking jokes at the entity, no longer fearing his threats. Time grimaced as his blue eyes narrowed, bowing beneath the insults thrown about the table.
"Come, come, come." Tarrant spoke, his hand waving Time toward him. "Come sit by my side; I have many questions which I should like to ponder and it's been so very long since I've had a visitor."
"Yeah!" The hare nodded enthusiastically as he looked to the chair beside him. "No' been very meny visitors since teh Re' Qween!"
"The Red Queen?" Time repeated, his head cocking as he looked down the table at the Hatter. When had he arrived?
"Certainly, you must know, being Time and all," Tarrant quickly adapted a nonchalant demeanor as he picked up a tea spoon, waving it about as he gesticulated and stirred the tepid liquid in his cup. "Iracebeth of Crims has sent her sister, Mirana of Marmoreal into exile. Some nonsense about her being a traitorous little tart," his green eyes, never focusing, landed on Time. "So we are now under the power of the Red Queen."
"It cannot be so bad," Time shrugged, wincing as he felt the slap from Iracebeth on his cheek once more.
"Hmmm," Tarrant's eyes shifted to meet Mally's surreptitiously once again. "Of course you would be privileged to know in all the ways we are not. Especially us being subjects of the White Queen before this."
I have no doubt that it was the White Queen who gave that impertinent kindergartener access to my castle and my Chronosphere. Time pondered maliciously. "Nevertheless," he stood, his thumbs tucking into the metal of his belt as he walked casually to join the Hatter near the head of the table. "I am sure she doesn't release annoying, purloining, insolent little yellow haired girls to go after things that would be best left alone."
Tarrant's eyes narrowed as he met Time's, his smile collapsing into a hard line. "Perhaps she wouldn't, but she certainly loves to make heads roll. And descend horrid beasties on unsuspecting villagers." Tarrant responded, his hands flying to either side of his head as his demeanor quickly changed, a grin once again gracing his red mouth. "But it is not Time to focus on that," he smiled. "I am sure you'd rather not be wasted, your eternalness. Besides, I have my own questions to ask you."
Time sneered, taking a seat next to the milliner all the same. Alice had been here before, and if Time was just a little more patient, perhaps he would find out where she had gone. "Ask then, you fool," Time responded, his hand resting on the table as he braced himself for idiocy.
"Is it true that you heal all wounds?" Tarrant leaned forward, his lisping voice deep as he posited his question.
Time held a groan in, trying to focus on the mist that was beginning to fill the dark clearing. His brows twisted as he noticed the plants surrounding the entire clear patch had indeed all wilted, their colors bled as they bowed over.
Time tensed as he felt the prodding of the hare's elbow on his right arm, the creature quipping, "Time is on my side!"
"Why is it that you wait for no man?" The Hatter asked, a twinkling knowing in his eye. Time had a feeling that the milliner was at the head of these lunatics. No doubt he was also leading some other form of madness. Perhaps it was why Alice had such preference for him.
The small pattering of feet echoed across the table as the dormouse hopped from her stack of books. She wandered across the lace doilies and frayed table cloth, her hands covering her eyes. "I just can't find the time," she mused as she stumbled over toward the being.
Time bit his tongue, looking over to the milliner with rage as the man watched on with amused interested. The sound of an evaporating creature filled Time's ears, and he felt soft fur wrap about his neck.
"Tarrant," the deep voice of a cat purred. "I suppose now is not the…Time…" Time saw the cat's amused smile cross his face.
"Chess, where've you been? You're late!" The dormouse demanded. Time saw the milliner stick up his pointed finger and waggle it, signaling the mouse to remain quiet.
So there is something afoot, the entity wondered, looking from milliner to mouse to hare. What are these three planning and when have I crashed?
"Actually," the sound of the cat's voice interrupted Time's thoughts. "I'm right on Time." Time shuddered as the hairs of the cat tickled the back of his neck, his eyes rolling as he was given a fourth imbecile to spare patience for.
The breathless laugh of the hare next to Time grated at his nerves; he looked over to see the creature gleefully tugging his ears as his yellow eyes beamed up cluelessly. Time revoked any feelings of benevolence he had for the hare, instead thinking of ways to punish him and his friends for this lack of respect. This ill treatment.
They are killing me! Time thought viciously as the laughter filled his ears.
The Hatter grabbed hold of the entity's wrist, picking up his hand and sliding his beneath, letting go of Time to allow the being's hand to cover the milliner's. "I've got Time on my hands!" He punned with an amused chuckle.
This action broke the final bit of patience for Time. He had had enough, he was tired of being murdered, disrespected, disregarded. These dunderheads would pay.
Time knew exactly what he was going to do.
"Do you silly nitwits," he began, his voice strained with impatience, but even he was surprised with how in control he still was. "Not think that I haven't heard these cheap barbs before?" He was ashamed to admit that there was a 'before'. I'll have to set Wilkins to work on solidifying the terror of my reputation. The being mused as he watched the milliner stand, gleeful joy falling from his features as calculated countenance crossed his face. "Your attempts at mockery fall flat."
Time glared at the trio for a moment, setting his dark features in an effort to appear intimidating and vengeful. All stood still for a moment, the Hatter pausing behind the being, the hare and the mouse ceasing in their game of tossing food at one another, to look back at the deity with wide eyes.
Until the Hatter grabbed hold of either side of Time's cloak, waving his enormous shoulder pads playfully.
"Look, look!" His voice was once again filled with amusement. "Time is flying."
"Enough!" Time cried out, standing. He winced as the sound of whipping electricity filled the air. He struggled to stay standing as his chest burned, his breathing ragged as his flaring emotions demanded too much energy.
The dormouse fell back on the table, clanking into a teapot behind her. The hare fell to the worn Persian rug beneath the table, his arm raising up to protect his face. The milliner took several steps back, his mouth falling into a shocked oval. It had taken an overwhelming amount of rage, but he had succeeded in garnering their attentions and reigniting their reverence.
"No more wasting me!" Time turned on the milliner, whose face was set with a peculiar glare.
"I'm having the time of my life," he replied with a harsher voice, his eyes flashing orange as he looked at the entity. When he saw that the being was not going to be quelled, the man begrudgingly took a seat.
Time could feel the gears of his head begin to grind, popping and cracking with broken circuits. The blue electricity lighted the increasingly darkening clearing. Tarrant glared up at the man from his seat.
Time returned the cruel look with his own, his vision dimming as he set his pink mouth. Though he was struggling to stay upright, to hold such a face, to generate such emotion, he would not be mocked. And he certainly would not leave without an answer as to where Alice had scurried off to.
He had been kind and patient and generous so far. It had not worked. Clearly these nutters needed to be taught a lesson.
Time hoped he had enough energy and spark on hand to carry through with his plan.
Alice hurried out of the Chronosphere when it landed just outside the stone circle. Hissing as she ran, her seared skin pulling tight with every foot fall, she raced up the steep incline toward Tarrant's house. The sun was shining brightly on the hill top, the waterfalls beyond adding to the serene atmosphere. Alice only hoped that perhaps she had done just enough, had done something to fix the past.
"Tarrant!" She cried out as she hurried up the worn steps, seeing that the lights in the house were dim. Flying open the door, she stopped in the foyer, her head swiveling back and forth trying to find where he had gone to.
The sound of weeping and sniffling caused her to tilt her head upwards, her gaze winding up the spiraling staircase until she could just make out the end of Mirana's dress at the top of the landing. "Tarrant!" Alice cried, hurrying up the stairs to join the throng of mourners.
Oh I've come too late! Alice felt her heart sink into her chest, tears welling in her own green eyes as she beheld her morose looking friends.
The stairs led her to the second floor, where lay Tarrant in a teal painted wooden poster bed, buried beneath a colorful and worn patchwork quilt. He was white as a ghost, his hair, white and limp, pressed against the pillows. His eyes were closed and near black in areas that had once been brimming with the pinks and blues and purples of life. His hands were folded over his stomach, his arms laying limply over the blankets. Alice could not tell if his chest was rising and falling with breath beneath the white nightshirt and blankets.
The Tweedles stood on the side of the bed where Alice was, their tear filled brown eyes looking up to her as their small mouths turned down in unison. They waddled lethargically to the side, allowing Alice room to step toward the bed, her hand reaching out to find leverage on the teal bedpost.
The March Hare was sitting on a chair on the other side of the bed, his ears drooping at his sides as his head hung low. His eyes were focused on the cracked tea cup in his paws, his mouth hanging open but speechless as he sat incredibly still. The Hatter's other tea party companion, Mally, stood on the Hatter's nightstand, faithfully close to her friend even at the end.
Bayard stood on the opposite side of the bed, his hound face resting sadly on the quilts, his eyes darting from his sick friend to the blonde girl before him. His ears hung by his head and his tail was tucked between his legs.
Sitting on the bed, right beside the milliner, was McTwisp, who held a stethoscope in hand. His white ears perked as he listened intently to the earphones tucked into the crevices of his head, his paw shaking as he pressed the oval end to the Hatter's chest. He shook his head lightly, his head bowing as he stepped back from the Hatter.
Mirana stood between Thackery's chair and Bayard, her face pinked with emotion. Her hands were folded before her body elegantly, but when she met Alice's gaze, the blonde could see the red eyes and makeup streaked tears of the Queen. She sniffed and smiled sadly as she addressed the newcomer.
"We fear you are too late," Mirana's voice was thick with emotion.
Alice felt her temper swell as she looked at the queen. There was a look of utter disappointment on the monarch's face as her dark mouth closed into a hard line. I fear as if you are part of the problem! Alice wanted to scream, but bit her tongue instead. Citing Mirana for her crime of encouraging infidelity would do little good to help the situation. There was little Alice could do about that fact at the moment anyways.
Alice ignored the woman, pressing past the Tweedles to sit on the bed beside her dear friend. McTwisp scurried from the covers, leaving the woman to sit with the comatose milliner.
Alice took the man's hand in her own as she sidled close, her eyes brimming with tears as she looked down at him. As she neared she saw that several strands of his snowy hair were indeed still streaked orange, she only noticed as several more bled of their color and turned to a pure white.
"He's fading away," Mally explained, her small voice thick with tears. "I can't bear to see him like this," the loyal friend waved her hand in a goodbye motion, turning with her fist tucked to her chest. The mouse went to stand on the bloodhound's head, her face turning away from the ill Hatter.
"Come, Mally," Bayard turned, his eyes looking to the blonde before he followed the others that were making their way out of the room. "Say your goodbyes, Alice."
Alice watched as her friends left the room, none of them wishing to stay to watch their friend fade off into the oblivion. Alice increased her grasp on the milliner's hand, her head turning back to look at him.
She saw a few more strands bleach away, his breathing whistling as he slowly started to slip. Alice shook her head. How? She wondered. How can I say goodbye to him? I cannot bear to.
She squeezed her eyes shut, sending rivulets of tears down her round cheeks. She pressed her forehead to their joined hands, wishing him to awaken.
"Tarrant," she began, swallowing the aching swell of sorrow in her throat. "Tarrant, please. Please wake up." She begged. "Tarrant, Tarrant, please. Please just wake up." She let go of his hand to shake him vigorously.
Alice sat up, looking for anything that might be used to stir him to consciousness. She set to searching the desk at her side of the bed for a pitcher of water or something to arouse him, finding only the small blue hat that sat in its glass box. She took the small creation in hand, turning back to the milliner.
"I know what this means now," she looked down at the blue hat, understanding it was everything that Tarrant had wanted from his father. Knowledge, approval, love. "You made it for your father when you were young," Alice returned to recline next to the Hatter, her head canted up to look at him. "A token of your love which you thought he threw away. But he kept it. He kept it all those years," Alice's empty hand reached forward to grab hold of Tarrant's wrist. "He kept it." Alice's head hung. "He kept it because you did make him proud."
There was nothing she could tell him that would make him reawaken. She couldn't give him promises that his family was alive. She couldn't comfort him with the fact that a search around Underland would produce the people he missed most.
It certainly would do no good to tell him that if he disappeared at this moment, if he left her now, she would miss him most.
"I'm so sorry," Alice was nearly breathless as she tucked the hat into his folded hands. "Once upon a time I thought you were impossible. I thought you were a dream." Alice looked at his stained fingers, observed the few that were capped with thimbles, the ever-bandaged thumb. She felt tears renew in her murky eyes, her gaze searching his hands. "I want to believe you, I want to tell you that I was wrong, that your family is alive. But I cannot lie to you, Tarrant," Alice sat up, her head bowing as she closed her eyes.
Alice leaned forward, her face wavering inches over his head, her throat burning with unshed tears. "I wish I didn't have to say this," she whispered into his white hair. "I wish I could have become the family you needed. I wish we could have been enough." She tilted her head to place a kiss on his white forehead as she placed her hands over his. "I wish I could have believed in you from the start. And now I've lost you all over again. Good bye, Tarrant." Alice kissed his cheek before settling back on the bed.
She folded her arms over his body, her face tucked into her elbow as she began to weep for her lost friend.
Alice felt a stirring, the weight of a hand pressing on the back of her head. She turned her head, peering up past the swell of her arm to see that Tarrant had stirred, his eyes were open and a faint orange glowed in them as he looked down on her.
"You believe in me?" His voice was thick and tight with nonuse.
"I will always believe in you," Alice looked up. "I promise."
Tarrant's mouth fell open in joyous disbelief, his breath returning to his body as he sat up. He looked at the hat she had placed in his hand, looked back at her with eyes that bloomed green. Emerald pools that watched her face in awe. His lips were darkening, his hair perking up as he continued to awaken.
"It's you, isn't it?" His whisper was thick, his voice low. "I'd know you anywhere."
Alice felt her heart alight with joy at that phrase. She knew what it had meant the first time. He was the only one who believed in her, who knew she was the right Alice. She felt her mouth expand into a Cheshire-worthy smile as her eyes watched him. She leaned back as he shifted towards her, his face inches from hers.
"Yeh're Ahlice," he burred, his gat toothed smile crossing his face. Relief flooded the woman's body and she enveloped her friend in a hug.
"Oh Tarrant," she whispered into her dear friend's chest. "I've missed you so much."
"So have I, dear," his strained lisp assured her. Alice pulled from him, her hands still on his shoulders. "Why didn't you come back? I called and I called you, and you never came back." His smile fell as he searched her face.
"Oh, Tarrant," Alice hung her head. "I am sorry, I am so sorry. I've been away, at sea, discovering China. I became a ship's captain and I sailed the seas of Asia. I met so many people and did so many incredible things."
"And you forgot about us," Tarrant looked down at the blue hat in his hands. "You forgot about me."
"I didn't," she shook her head, her hands squeezing his shoulders. "I remembered you every moment I shut my eyes. I recalled Mally and Thackery when I tasted the teas of China, fresh and sweet. I remembered McTwisp when I was helping navigate and set our course. Late— just like I've always been." Alice tried to smile congenially. "I remembered Mirana when I was standing before the Dowager Princess, wearing these clothes," she indicated to the silks she wore, ruined and singed in the fire. "I remembered Bayard when I met the strange dogs of the street. I remembered even Iracebeth when I watched the dancing dragons face off against the warriors in the street plays." She leaned closer to him. "And I remembered you every time I wish I had someone to share all of this with, someone who understood. Who would have fought me for the most ornate tea cup, who would have reminded me on the darkest and coldest of nights that I needed to be just a little bit muchier, who would have stood beside me as I stood before the Princess, kept my voice from shaking, who would have laughed as the mighty warrior defeated the slinking dragon," her hand slipped down his arm to knot in his fingers. "Who would have made sure I picked the best hat possible for the festival. I knew you would have done all of that with me."
"And now you've come back," he said, his eyes watching her.
"Now I have come back," Alice nodded.
"And you smell of soot and fire and fear," Tarrant's hand reached up to cup her face.
"I returned and I saw that you had not experienced all of China with me. That you were so very ill," Alice felt tears refresh at the thought. "So I am trying to make it all right. I am trying to do the impossible. I went back to the Horunvendush Day…well before that I went back to several other days and I…I tried to stop the Jabberwocky. I tried to save your family. But I'm afraid I haven't been successful so far." She tried to explain.
"It's a wonder you didn't get burned alive either," his arms wrapped about her waist as he looked down at her. "You sound as if you aren't done yet, Alice," Tarrant's eyes narrowed.
"I'm not," Alice hung her head. "I am hoping that perhaps I can still stop Iracebeth. I have one more idea. But I am not sure your parents will listen to me. Or rather your father, I should say."
"You are the Alice my mother spoke of, aren't you?" His smiled playfully.
"I'm afraid so, and your father didn't take too kindly to it."
Tarrant shook his head, his hands splaying along the curve of her back. "I wouldn't take that too personally. If you've had the privilege of meeting him, you'd know he isn't into ghosties and beasties and things that go bump in the night."
"I'm sorry, Tarrant," Alice took the hat in hand. It had fallen among the sheets between the two. "I am sorry for how strict he was toward you."
"You don't need to apologize, Alice," Tarrant shook his head. "I remember meeting you, once. And you told me good advice. I took it."
"You said that to me before," Alice mused, "When you let me into the castle."
"Our paths always seem to cross, isn't that right, dear one?" His gaze glowed green as he looked to Alice. His face was inches from hers, sneaking closer as the two spoke in the quietness of the room.
"You seem to meddle when I have the least want of you," Alice wrinkled her nose. "Until I realize that it's when I need you the most."
Alice felt his breath on her lips, her eyes fluttering closed as she could smell the sharp scent of mercury and tea and sweets.
Her fingers curled about the white arms of his night shirt as he pressed impossibly close, his nose touching hers. And for the briefest of moments, their mouths met. Alice felt a tear slip down her face as he kissed her, his touch light and warm.
It was over as soon as it had begun. She cleared her throat as she watched his hair begin to fill with its red hue, the dark shadows of his face alighting with color, the contours of his cheeks pinkening once more. He smiled at her, his green eyes warm as he took her in.
"I am afraid that the Red Queen isn't entirely vanquished, either," Alice sighed, turning from him as he stood. "You see, in order to go back to try to save your family, I had to borrow something," Alice stood, reaching into her skirt pocket. She pulled from its depths the Chronosphere, presenting the metal object that sat in her hand. "I fear that Iracebeth is in want of it. I also have Time on my heels and he's very unhappy with what I've done. I fear I must place this back soon, but I want to try once more, Tarrant, to make it right."
Tarrant stood from the bed, his joints cracking as he took his place before Alice. He looked down at her hand, his mouth twisting into a wry grin. "I assume the bluddy begh hed 'as nuthin' bu' truble up 'er sleeve."
"She also has Time wrapped about her finger. And he's stuck somewhere. He tried to take this from me. Well, I supposed take it back." Alice hung her head, realizing what Hamish meant about her carelessness. "I'm afraid I took it against his wishes."
"That was what Time was looking for," Tarrant mused as he studied the tool in her hand. "I thought he was merely wishing to find you to take you back to the Red Queen."
"Pardon?" Alice asked.
Tarrant shook his head. "Nothing," he assured her. "I'm afraid we both acted rashly on the behalf of the other. It had me stuck a tea table."
"And I'm afraid I'm going to ruin all of Underland," Alice wilted.
"Well, we certainly can't have that. Let us go, my dear girl," he paused as he looked down at his clothes and then to hers. "Well, after we've cleaned up a little."
"I'm afraid I need to speak with Mirana about getting some ointment," Alice confessed, twisting her calf and raising the ruined bit of her skirt to reveal her angry raw burn.
"Hmm," Tarrant examined the injury. "I'm happy to say I may have a cure for that. And I suppose I'll have to craft something for you." He mused as he looked Alice over.
"I'm sorry to be burden," Alice apologized.
"Nay," Tarrant shook his head. "Besides, making something ought to put me in the right spirit. Come, Alice," he took her by the hand. "I'll fetch you a house coat you can have until I've prepared something perfect. And I'll put the kettle on as I work."
Alice squeezed his hand, causing him to pause and look back at her. "I'm glad you are back," Alice offered.
"And I'm glad to have my Alice." He returned the compliment, turning once more to lead her down the stairs and to the kitchens and his work station.
Time stared down the lunatics, his blue eyes narrowing as he tried one last time to glean the information he needed. "When is she coming?" He demanded.
He watched the Hatter's eyes narrow, his green gaze slipping to Mally who was perched behind a tea cup now, using it as a shield. A sly smile crossed his mouth as he crossed his legs one over the other.
"Well," the Hatter mused as he looked at the man. "I'm afraid you might have missed her. You see, she's already come and gone. Though I don't see how the little creature could certainly pose such a threat to you." The Hatter's mouth curled into a proud grin. "I've invited her back, if she can behave herself next time, the naughty little hot headed tempestuous tyke she is."
So I am at the moment between Alices. Time groaned, his eyes shutting as his anger grew.
"I'm afraid I never said she was coming, old being," he responded. "I merely said I had invited her."
The creatures at his side started laughing, Time grating against their insolence.
"Very clever!" The March Hare chimed in.
Time nodded his head, raising his hands. "Well played sir," he clapped lightly. "Well played." He watched as the milliner blushed under the praise. Oh, but you think you have bested me. You invited Alice to tea, I'm afraid you will be stuck waiting for her until she does indeed come again.
"Thank you," Tarrant burred, sitting up to look at the being before him.
"You were asking me before when 'soon' is," Time glared down at the man, his hands gesticulating in circles as he tried to explain when exactly soon was coming. "Let me try to explain when is now," Time grabbed hold of his cloak, bearing his broken chest.
The tea party attendees all gasped at the sight of the shattered and sparking clock that lay on his breastbone, looking to one another with shaking heads. Time sparked amongst the growing fog and deepening darkness, increasing the misery of the scene before him,
"Now is exactly one minute 'til the end of tea time," Time mused as he looked at the milliner. "And until the young Alice returns, it will always be tea time."
Time felt his chest sparking as he incurred the curse, the clocks about the clearing agree that tea time would never be over until Alice joined the milliner once more. "For you, my dear Hatter, you will be stuck here until Alice returns. And anyone who dares enter will be forced to observe tea time no matter what time of day or night they stumble in from."
Tarrant frowned at the being, his thick eyebrows crossing on his forehead. Time smiled victoriously. "Enjoy the present," he added before turning and leaving the party of lunatics behind to access the damage to his machine.
"Time to go!" Thackery sang as he watched Time turn his back and return to his damaged ship.
"I must get the Chronosphere back," the Hatter could hear Time mutter as he hoisted his vessel. "She cannot be far away!"
Tarrant let out a sigh as Time turned his back, glad the deity had left the trio to be. It was bad enough they were kept to the tables, after upsetting Iracebeth with their…performance…at her behest. Besides, it wouldn't do that little Alice girl any good to be mixed up with this old being.
Especially if she did indeed grow up to be that big Alice that he had encountered a time or two of his own in the past.
Tarrant watched as the being went to fetch the contraption he had crashed into the clearing, the machine sparking and spitting fumes as he lifted it from among the dead flowers.
Everything had faded since she had taken charge. In fact, the only thing that had changed was when that wee blonde girl was here. Alice, he thought affectionately. The girl who tipped the scales. He had remembered being at her trial and the way Iracebeth had been all red faced.
Even King Philip had cowed under her command.
And how she had wanted that precious little girl's head.
Tarrant shook the thought away, turning to his friends. Mally had been right earlier when she had scolded Chess for being late. He was supposed to have met them around the moment Time was still at their table to talk about the resistance. The revolution had been Tarrant's idea; after seeing that blonde little girl best the Queen he figured it would be beneficial for her to return and perhaps end Iracebeth's reign. Chess and his ability to flit here and there made him the most convenient of messengers.
"What a curious chap," Tarrant mused to his friends, a smile crossing his red lips. He assured himself that the being was flying away clumsily in his contraption, not trusting the entity's benevolence toward the Red Queen. "Well, we must be off to find McTwisp. I'm hoping to recruit him to find Alice."
"You are putting a lot of hope in a skittish rabbit," Mally shook her head disapprovingly, but she lowered her tea cup shield.
"Well, we only have so many we can trust in the resistance against her bluddy begh hed," Tarrant responded, standing and casually strolling toward the main path through the Tulgey Woods. When he reached the end of the carpet, however, he found that he was unable to continue further. It was as if an invisible wall kept him from proceeding forward.
"What?" He wondered, trying to drive his hand through the barrier, but only finding that the force jarred his arm and sent him flying backwards.
Mally hopped down the table and joined his side, easily passing from the Persian rug to the grass beyond. She cocked her head as she looked up at her friend.
"Try again!" She encouraged.
Tarrant did so, trying once more to move past the rug and toward the woods, only to be stopped.
Thackery picked up his watch from the midst of his tea, gleefully shouting, "It's near end for tea time!"
He watched the seconds tick round the clock…only for the hands to wind backwards to four.
"What in Underland?" Mally gasped.
"Et's tea time again," Thackery chimed happily.
Tarrant sighed. "It appears," he tried once more in vain to pass the carpet boundary with no success. "That I have been stuck here obliged to stay until the end of tea time. Which, is to eternally repeat."
"Tea time forever!" Thackery cried out in disbelief.
"For me at the very least," Tarrant grimaced, looking to the woods beyond. "At least until Alice gets back. Which means I need you, Mally, to be my messenger." He turned to the mouse.
She stood stalk straight, her eyes narrowing in determination. "What can I do?"
"I need you to fetch McTwisp and Chess," Tarrant looked back to the table. "We've been looking for a headquarters and it appears it's been given to us."
Mally shook her head. "It's probably only because he just left. He's playing a jest on us."
Tarrant's attentions returned to the woods. He shook his head. "I don't think that's the case. I think I vexed the being and he's playing his revenge out on me. Never mind, though," Tarrant shook his thick waves. "It's only until Alice returns, which means we must double our efforts to coax her back. It shouldn't be too long before she falls down a rabbit hole or wanders through a looking glass, the precocious child. Now, run along, Mally," he shooed the mouse.
"Right fine," she hopped forward, turning to look back at him. "McTwisp and Chess?"
"And anyone else they think might be helpful. We all know that troublesome caterpillar won't leave his mushroom to speak with us. Though that Oraculum of his might be helpful," Tarrant answered her.
"I'll be back in a flash," Mally promised.
"Take your time, don't raise suspicions. Mirana and Underland count on us being coy," Tarrant responded, turning to Thackery. "Seems it's just you and me for now, chap."
"Scone!" Thackery's short attention turned the pastries before him.
"So there are," Tarrant snatched one in his hand. "I suppose I should get used to these." He tucked one into his waistcoat pocket wistfully.
First my village demolished, then my life cursed? Please, Alice, you must return soon. Tarrant pleaded to deaf ears before settling in his seat.
He might as well get used to the chair; it would be his permanent perch as he desperately waited for that wonderful Alice to come bounding over the hill once again.
Alice finished pulling her hair back from her face as she stood before Tarrant. He had provided her with a pair of gray harem pants he had fashioned out of some grey tartan fabric. He had carefully cut her a salmon pink shirt and fixed one of his outercoats into a black waistcoat with long tails for her. Buttoning one of the straps that came loose, Alice gave herself a determined nod in the looking glass beside her before turning her attentions back to the milliner.
"So we want to return to Toomalee?" Alice asked.
Tarrant nodded as he picked some lint from his handsome blue outer coat. "That was the day the Red Queen was crowned. Or, was supposed to be." Tarrant shook his head, trying to straighten his thoughts.
"You know this is dangerous," Alice posited, her arms crossing before her. "If you see your old self then the universe could implode." She waved her hand and shook her head. "Or something like that; Mirana wasn't specific on the details."
"Alice," Tarrant placed his hands on her shoulders. "If there is a chance my family survived, then I have to take it. And I know my father would not let you near my mother again, so it's the best chance I have."
"Fine," Alice sighed. "If you understand the dangers and want to go all the same, then I certainly cannot stop you."
"Thank you," Tarrant answered earnestly.
Alice reached into the pocket of the pants, taking hold of the Chronosphere in hand. "I'm afraid I don't think I can roll this out into your house, so we'd best try it on the front garden."
"Do you think we should tell the others I'm alright?" Tarrant looked out the window to Marmoreal.
"We will be back before they know it, and perhaps they won't even remember. Maybe we can avoid all of this heartache by stopping Iracebeth."
The thought made Tarrant paused, his green eyes sweeping her face. Alice pinked at the gaze, turning from him and heading toward the door. "Is something wrong with that plan?"
"No, no," Tarrant shook his head, hastily following after her. "I was just thinking is all."
As Alice descended the porch stairs, she tossed the Chronosphere to the grass before them. The small orb increased in size, its electric pulses and dancing lightening worsened.
"Well," Alice turned to the Hatter, her hand gesturing toward the Chronosphere.
"Ladies first," Tarrant responded. Alice nodded, jumping into the small vessel. Tarrant crowded behind her.
It was strange sharing the small space with someone, Alice realized. The orb could probably hold four to five travelers, albeit not comfortably. Even with two it was a crowded experience. Though Alice wondered if Tarrant pressed closer to her because he wished so. She could feel his hands wrap about her waist as she pulled the chain, directing the Chronosphere into the air. The hug increased as she pushed the lever forward.
Her body shivered at the touch she had realized she had wanted. Something she had been yearning for since the last moment she had seen him. Shaking her head, she tried to ignore the waves that rippled through her arms, sent pleasurable currents through her body.
He had kissed me, Alice mused as he could feel his breath on the back of her neck. Perhaps… but she dismissed the thought she knew was brewing without recognizing its existence.
"Hold on," Alice commanded, though with no real reason for it. Tarrant's grip was already assured about her slim waist.
"I will," he promised as she sent the Chronosphere soaring through the skies until it broke the barrier between this moment and the Ocean of Time.
Tarrant's arms loosened about her as he gasped, watching the wavess and memories swirling about his being. He stepped away from her, turning with wonder as he beheld times he knew and those he had only heard about. This means so much more to him than it will ever mean to me. Alice realized, as Tarrant had grown up in this land and she only had a stake in a day or two.
"You could go into any of these memories?" Tarrant asked. Alice nodded her head.
"And I would love to take you, but I am afraid that the Chronosphere is losing power and I'd rather not destroy the past, present, or future," Alice responded, remembering what Chess had requested of her.
"I think it would be dangerous anyway," Tarrant decided. "It could be so easy to get stuck in another time. A better day."
"Perhaps," Alice agreed, directing the Chronosphere with growing expertise until the Oraculum indicated that Toomale was fast approaching. "You may want to hold on. Landing is still a bit hard," Alice winced as she directed the orb into the memory.
Tarrant's arms held tight about her, but he made a motion of tucking her into his body instead of holding on. She tried to ignore the creeping thoughts that entered her mind, focusing instead on stopping the Chronosphere.
She landed this time with greater success, quickly jumping from the orb to the grass. Tarrant followed behind her.
"I cannot go into the square," he said as she noticed that people were pouring into the city in huge masses. "I was there, that day, being rather mischievous and late. If you wish to avoid me seeing myself, then I suggest I meet you at the castle for the ceremony." He turned away from her.
"Where are you off to?" Alice asked, hastily following after him.
"I am going to see if perhaps Rhys are Siobhan are home. I arrived the latest today, but my siblings were near as slow as I was." He responded.
Alice wanted to protest, but she wondered if perhaps he merely wanted to see his siblings once more instead of necessarily interacting with them. She reached out to put a comforting hand on his arm.
"Fine," Alice nodded, a warm smile crossing her lips. "I shall meet you at the castle, then?"
"I promise," Tarrant turned, swiftly taking off down the road. Alice heavily sighed, turning in the opposite direction toward the square and ultimately the castle, quickly losing herself in the sea of citizens in fancy dress and eagerly awaiting the crowning of their new queen.
Alice hurried through the square, looking about eagerly for Tyva Hightopp or her wondrous son. She stepped past a market selling meats and greens, looking toward the temporary vendors toward the center of the village. She smiled when she caught sight of a familiar tuft of red hair with an elegant top hat placed atop the wild curls. He was wearing a green coat, so it was not the Tarrant of her time, it was the one of Toomalee. She hurriedly approached, a smile crossing her face.
"Hatter?" She called gently, not wanting to startle him by knowing his name. He seemed enraptured by the bolts of fabric he was examining and did not turn. "Hatter?" She tried once more, placing her head on his shoulder until he spun around.
He had been indeed examining a small spool of fabric, striped red and gold, which he held out before his eyes. He dropped the taught ribbon quickly to see who had interrupted him. His green eyes were the same, but this man was certainly younger. He lacked the haunted look of the Tarrant she had come to know so well.
He was younger still than the Hatter she had met before encountering Mirana and Philip, the one who had helped her. This was the young and naïve and hopeful Tarrant, the one she had been searching for.
"It's you!" She cried out in delight, leaning forward to embrace him in a warm hug. "You're just the one I'm looking for!"
"Well, if I'm not, I wish I was," Tarrant replied gleefully, not returning the hug but not seeming to mind it either. Alice quickly let him go, realizing he did not know who she was and this must be dreadfully inappropriate. She offered him a sweet smile when she stepped back, returning the kindness of his gat-toothed grin. His eyes narrowed as he leaned toward her. "Have we met?"
"Yes!" Alice replied automatically, before catching herself. "Well, no," she corrected her statement, sighing. "I mean, not yet."
"That's funny, I feel I should now you," his eyes continued to squint as if hoping to see her in a new light.
He might remember me from when he was young. But it was for such a short time and it was so long ago, Alice frowned. "Well, we have met once, when I was younger."
"Oh, well I'm afraid I don't recall," Tarrant shook his head.
"That's because it hasn't happened yet," Alice realized her mistake. This was not a time after her first visit.
"Oh?" Tarrant mused, his thick brows crossing, making Alice's smile larger. This certainly was her hatter, even if he was younger and less experienced. "When will it happen?" He pondered.
"Years from now!" Alice answered enthusiastically. "When you're older."
"I'll meet you when you're younger and I'm older?" He restated her comments, pointing first to her and then to himself. Alice cringed. None of this was coming off the way she intended it to.
"I realize it doesn't make much sense," Alice furrowed her brow, hoping the whimsical nature of Underland would forgive her mix up.
"It makes perfect sense to me," Tarrant responded to her relief. "I'm Tarrant," he held up his hand toward her.
Alice took, it receiving a very energetic shake. "Yes, I know! I'm Alice!"
"Alice," Tarrant mused happily, "you seem to have Time all mixed up." He continued shaking her hand, much past what was acceptable in her society.
"Oh, he's not mixed up at'all," Alice replied with a frown. The expression made Tarrant cock his head in confusion. "I'm afraid he's quite angry with me," she confessed.
She met Tarrant's gaze as he fell silent, his pink mouth hard as he looked at her. She felt her countenance fade until a grin passed his lips. "You're bonkers, aren't you?" He posited before letting go of her hand and passing by the stalls once more, grabbing up ribbons and bows and fabrics.
"That's what I've been told," Alice answered before quickly following after him.
"All the best ones are," Tarrant conceded as he carried on.
"Listen," Alice decided to cut to the chase as Time was not only angry but running out. "I know it may sound strange, but I need to find your family."
"Well you're just in luck," he smiled. "Right this way," he directed her with a pointing finger, before taking the lead himself.
Alice followed obediently, stopping when she noticed he caught sight of something out of the corner of her eye. She turned to see that he had spotted a fully-grown bird like the one he had pulled from his coat sleeves when he was a boy. It was perched upon a low hanging branch, squawking merrily, until Tarrant snuck up behind it and yanked one of its tail feathers from its rear.
The bird gave an indignant squeal and Alice winced in commissary. Tarrant, however, paid the fowl no mind as his hands busily worked before his body. Alice approached him warily, trying to peer over his shoulder, when he turned, startling her. She took a step back and saw that he had in his hand an ornate hat, made from ribbons and bows and morning glories and the feathers of the bird. She smiled with wonder at the beautiful creation he had quickly concocted solely for her. "I mustn't be late," he said as he placed the hat atop her head. "It's a big day for the Hightopps."
Alice nodded her head in understanding as Tarrant finished adjusting his creation. "I really must dash."
"I'm right behind you," Alice answered, following him through the growing crowd to the castle where regal trumpets were playing a tune that clearly signaled it was time to gather.
The clanging of bells, familiar chimes she knew from childhood, soon filled the air also, the crowd hastily making its way through the doors. Alice had lost track of Tarrant among the growing throng, but she knew she would meet the Hatter of her time somewhere in the growing crowd. She fell behind as the citizens began to pour into the great hall where benches and chairs had been set up for the masses to sit upon while the ceremony took place.
She began to walk towards a bench at the back of the room when someone grabbed her elbow. She turned to see a familiar scarred and stained hand, looking up to find the owner. The Tarrant of her time smiled at her warmly.
"I think it wise not to enter the hall if I don't have to," Tarrant mused as Alice joined him. The two took to peering around the corner into the great hall.
"It's probably a safe idea," Alice nodded. She saw a quizzical look upon his face, her eyebrows twisting in confusion as a response. "What?"
"Is this the hat I really made for you?" He mused as he took the creation from her head. "It's so rudimentary." He tipped and tilted the creation.
"And you were much younger, remember," Alice nudged him playfully. He shook his head.
"No wonder my father wanted me to take my trade more seriously."
"Speaking of which, did you find him?"
Tarrant shook his head. "No, I went to the house, but no one was there." His gaze wandered past Alice toward the dais ahead. "Hush now, everything is about to start!"
A trumpet sounded as a she caught sight of Zanik, who was stepping back from Mirana. He had just crowned with an elegant tiara. Alice observed that she was not dressed in her usual stark white, but wore a dress highlighted with lilacs and lavenders, curls were dyed light purple against her white hair to match. Alice saw that Mirana had jewels pressed to either side of her dark eyes to lighten up her smiling face. The crowd was clapping as the latecomers entered to see the princess crowned.
"Congratulations to our dear Mirana," King Oleron's voice rang out over the cheering, "on your coming of age."
"She was the best loved sister," Tarrant mused. "Especially after the accident," he gestured with his chin toward Iracebeth.
Alice was taken aback to see the grown Red Queen with a normal sized head. She was dressed in pinks and deep crimsons, already taking on her bloody hue even in young adulthood. Her lips were painted red; however, the heart pattern was missing. Her eyes were painted a sky blue and her lashes darkened against her pale skin as her brown eyes blinked rapidly. Her hair was shaped into two buns on either side of her head, the beginnings of a heart taking place, but not fully realized.
Alice nearly gasped when she looked from the hair back to the woman's brow line.
Her face was marred by a horrible gash that twisted and puckered the skin from her hairline across her broken nose to her cheek. The skin was red and inflamed, pulling at one of her thin eyebrows and causing her eye to drop. Alice immediately felt pity for the horror this princess must have suffered.
All because of Mirana. Alice thought sadly.
She then noticed the young man standing off to the right, behind King Oleron. It was Philip, there was no doubt of it. His jawline had hardened since she had truly seen him last in the final years of boyhood. His blue eyes were brilliant against his dark hair and brows. His lips were fully and pink, a hard line on his square face. He was handsome.
And his light eyes were locked on the lavender princess that was shifting pleasantly under the outpouring of love and adoration.
Alice noticed also that a certain young hatter in a green coat was sneaking his way along the side of the room, a top hat removed and used as a poor shield from attracted attention as he neared the front of the stage.
"I thought you told me you weren't going to be late," Alice whispered to her Tarrant.
"Force of habit?" He shrugged before shushing her. She placed her hands on her hips indignantly. "You'll want to see this." He informed her, quelling her attitude.
"And now the heir!" King Oleron's voice rang out.
Alice watched as the young Tarrant proffered a box to his father, tilting the mahogany lid up so that man could fetch what was kept inside.
The man took a small tiara from the box, lifting it gently by its intricate metal sides with white gloves. Young Tarrant entered the throng of redheads who stood of to the side, one Alice recognized immediately as Tyva.
"And now the crown for the Princess Iracebeth, claiming her as next in line for the throne in the event of mine or Queen Elsmere's passing." King Oleron proclaimed. The only clapping filling the room was that of Mirana, who looked out to the crowd sourly as no one joined in.
"Ignorant peasants," Alice could hear the Red Princess sneer as Zanik approached her with the tiara.
Alice looked to Tarrant with wide eyes. His face was set in a hard line as he watched the proceedings of the ceremony from a new perspective.
Zanik approached the princess slowly, his eyes concentrating as he seemed to want to place the tiara at just the right angle. He tried tipping it to the left and then to the right, his fingers shaking as he struggled to please the irascible young woman. The young Tarrant let out a snicker as he watched his father struggle, earning a glare from the young princess instead.
"Quiet!" The harsh whisper of Iracebeth could be heard even from the distance. The young Tarrant tried to quell his laughter, knocking the lip of the open box with his face as he tried to hide behind it. The mahogany lid shut with a great force, filling the already quiet and tense room with a resounding bang. All eyes went on the crash, including the stern glare of Zanik.
"What are you doing, you idiot?" Iracebeth raged, her eyes narrowing. "Put it on my head, you're making me look stupid!" She commanded Zanik next. The patriarch did just that, placing the crown on her head.
Zanik stepped away quickly, joining his family off to the side.
"Now that the task is done," King Oleron stood, his arms outstretched as he addressed the disinterested public. "Your future queen has been decided. And with that future queen, so a king has also been chosen for you, my dear Iracebeth."
The room stilled as all waited for the announcement of who was to be their future king. Iracebeth's face lit up with joy as she turned to see her father smile warmly down on her.
"I have chosen a man who has demonstrated great wisdom and character, who will help my daughter rule the kingdom with grace and fairness. Especially when she finds herself unable to due to her health," the king looked sympathetically down at the woman before him.
Alice noticed the shifting of the man behind them, a frown crossing the young noble's face. "I have decided that the Tessellation Prince shall be your future husband," King Oleron turned to usher the young man forward.
Philip balked, however, as his dark brows crossed. He looked to Mirana with an air of confusion dancing about his blue eyes. When he met the princess' gaze Alice saw that he shook his head in disbelief.
"I'm sorry," Philip coughed. "There must be some mistake."
"Certainly not," the king shook his head. "A king your father desired and a king you shall be. Come, and meet your future wife."
"I need a moment," Philip responded before turning and fleeing from the room. Alice flushed as she knew exactly what the young man must be feeling.
"You'll have to excuse your future grace," the king waved away the concern.
"I would run if I had to marry that face too!" One of the peasants in the back cried out.
"That is no way to speak about your future queen," Elsemere stood up, fisting her skirts as she strode forward. "Guards, remove this rabble!"
"We don't want the ugly one!" Another peasant cried out.
"Yeah!" A third joined the protest.
"We want Mirana!"
"Mirana!" The voices shouted. "Give us Mirana."
Alice turned to her Tarrant with a sad frown. "I've no doubt that is what Philip is thinking as well."
"Stop it!" Iracebeth screamed, jumping from her chair. The movement sent the tiara flying from her head, crashing to the ground before her. The delicate metal shattered into three large pieces, sending diamonds and rubies and crystals scattering about the floor. Iracebeth looked on with disbelief. "Silence!" She shrieked, earning herself that. "The next person who laughs shall never laugh again!"
"Iracebeth," her mother hurried to her side, "please darling, try to be sensible."
"No!" She shouted.
"The only sensible thing to do would be to cover that face!" A voice cried out.
"Yeah, it's cruelty for us to look at it!"
Further cries of Queen Mirana filled the sanctuary.
Alice watched as Iracebeth's face reddened, her dark eyes filling with tears. She turned on her sister with barred teeth, her eyes narrowing. "I hate you," she seethed. The sentiment quelled the growing dissention in the crowd. "I hate you all!" She turned to the crowd, her finger pointing as she turned a brilliant red. "And I shall burn Witzend if that is what I shall have to do to be rid of each and every one of you. Especially if you are my sister's favorites," her gaze turned pointedly toward the small Hightopp family.
Iracebeth stormed off toward the opposite side of the dais, clearly seeking escape. Mirana stood quickly, going after her sister as her parents remained frozen in shock. "Racey," the young princess cried out.
"Oh, don't 'Racey' me!" The woman turned on her sister, her cheeks growing more red by the moment. "You started it!" She approached her sister, her dark eyes narrowing. "Why can't you just tell the truth? Why can't you just be honest? Why can't you just let me have my king?"
Mirana looked on with a clearly helpless look, her dark eyes searching her sister as her dark mouth turned into a frown. "Racey, I— "
"I didn't think so," Iracebeth turned, hot tears pouring down her cheeks.
As she continued for the side exit to the hall, Iracebeth fell in a convulsing fit, her arms and legs seizing as she writhed on the floor.
"Iracebeth," Queen Elsemere hurried to her daughter's side.
"It's the fits she had ever since her accident," Alice's Tarrant explained. "They usually happened when she showed great efforts of emotion."
"Please, please, remove her from the stage!" Queen Elsemere commanded several of the card guards who came to the woman's aid.
The chaos settled as Queen Elsemere left with her seizing daughter, hurrying the girl away from the mocking public eye. King Oleron stood at the center of the dais, the vein at the top of his forehead sticking out as he clenched his jaw.
He turned to the crowd with moist eyes, shaking his head as he addressed the audience.
"This is where it all went wrong," Tarrant lisped behind Alice.
No, Iracebeth was right, Alice mused. It all went wrong when Mirana did not tell the truth. When she was not honest.
"People of Witzend," King Oleron began, quieting the dissenters and the gossipers alike. "I had hoped that Iracebeth would regain her strength since the day of her fateful accident. As you can see, she still struggles with fits and hysteria. While I trust that Prince Philip will make a decent match for her, I do not see her fit to rule an entire kingdom. And while it pains me to do this, I am unable to bequeath everything over to my youngest seeing as I have a king who will prove fit to rule."
The crowd shifted forward, clearly curious about what the King was so pained to do. Alice turned to Tarrant who stood behind her, a frown still on his red mouth.
"I am dividing Underland into two kingdoms. Mirana will rule from the ancient seat of Marmoreal and will have control of the southern half of the kingdoms. Meaning Witzend will fall under her jurisdiction, as so many of you seem keen on seeing her rule. I'd rather you all not drive my oldest to her breaking point." The king looked harshly down on his subject who let out a celebratory cheer. "As for Iracebeth, she will rule from Crims." He cleared his throat, garnering the unruly crowd's attention. "She will have control of Crims and Queast; not much land to rule, but enough for her to exercise her gift of leadership."
"I'm telling my cousin to move south!" A courtier cried before leaving the room. Alice watched as the attendees stood, all making their way toward the exits.
"We should be going," Tarrant pulled on Alice's sleeve.
"Wait, what's going on between you and your father?" Alice watched as Zanik turned on his son.
"It will give you cause to find the younger me later," Tarrant explained. "I'll leave you to it, but I'll be waiting in the fields of Witzend for you when you've done speaking with me."
"What?" Alice turned to question him further, but saw that he had already left her side. Alice sighed, turning back to the group of hatters before her.
"If you're to be a hatter worthy of the Hightopp name," Zanik glared down on his son. The comment made even Alice wince at its harshness. "You must be sane, sober, disciplined, everything you now are not." Zanik's voice was hard and cold.
Alice noticed McTwisp, Mally, and Thackery eavesdropping as well, the three of them gasping silently at the patriarch's harsh critique. It took every bone in Alice's body to not descend upon the man herself. She had been on the opposite side of his anger once before and knew how deep it stung.
"All I did was laugh, father," Tarrant shook his head as he tried to reason with the patriarch. "I couldn't help it, even Rhys was giggling behind me." He gestured to a man who stood a few inches taller than Tarrant, his red hair falling in waves about his pale face. The man sported an insane moustache which stuck out wildly on both sides of his mouth. "Besides, no one takes the Red Princess seriously anyhow."
"I don't care if Rhys cracked a sneeze. He does so without drawing attention to himself like a village play."
"Why am I never good enough for you?" Tarrant asked, his green eyes narrowing at his father.
"Why are you always such a disappointment to me?" Zanik countered back. Alice felt the insult, she took a step back as her mouth dropped open. Young Tarrant responded in a similar manner.
"There, you've said it," he replied once he had regained his countenance. "Well, if I'm such a disappointment," Tarrant was fighting back tears that could be readily heard in his voice, his eyes blinking quickly to keep them from escaping. "I don't suppose you'll be sorry if I leave home."
Alice couldn't see Zanik's response, as his back was turned to her, but she immediately saw Tyva's.
"No, Tarrant!" She cried, her ornately styled red hair falling from its pins as she vigorously shook her head.
"Hat please, mother," Tarrant answered her stoically.
Alice saw that the round faced woman behind Tarrant also seemed upset by the news. Alice wondered if this was the sister Siobhan she had not met, but whom her Tarrant had hoped he would see again.
"Tarrant," Tyva continued to plead with her son as she reluctantly handed his hat over. When she saw he was not willing to listen, she hurried to her husband's side. "Zanik!"
"No!" Alice could hear the man respond, shaking his head.
"Zanik, please, tell 'em teh stay!" Tyva pleaded in her light accent. "Zanik! Please, please!"
Alice watched as Tarrant hurried down the aisle, past the corner she had concealed herself in. His face was resolute, though she could see a small tear slipping down his long face. He did not see her as he passed, clearly in his own world as he tried to deal with the hurt his father had just dealt him.
Alice looked back to see Tyva hanging from her husband's arm and Siobhan's white cheeks flooded with tears. She knew what she had to do. She knew why her Tarrant had told her she would need to go after the younger him.
Quickly Alice pushed off from the wall and hastened after Tarrant who was swiftly walking toward the outskirts of Witzend.
The older Tarrant made his way through the square, knowing he was in little danger of being sighted by his younger self. Today was not only the day when the Red Princess was chased from the stage, it was also when his father's disapproval chased him from the house.
A day he regretted. Amended but mourned.
Tarrant waited in the square, hoping his parents would pass on their way back to his childhood home. The streets were filling with returned merchants and hopeful customers, citizens bubbling with the news that Mirana would soon be their queen. Hope had been restored anew in the land.
And Tarrant realized just what continuously sparked Iracebeth's anger. It wasn't simply her parent's preference, but the kingdom's as well.
"Tarrant?" A familiar lilt filled his ears, a voice he hadn't heard in years.
"Mother," Tarrant looked up to see her running toward him.
"Oh, Tare, Ah thought you were gone teh meh," she wrapped her arms about her son lovingly. "But you've changed already," she looked at his brilliant blue coat and his black and gray harlequin waistcoat.
"I've changed several times," he answered her wistfully.
"Tare!" Siobhan was quick to his side, her tight curls bouncing as she joined her mother in the embrace. "Elspeth, come quickly!"
Elspeth joined the group hug, her long face filled with a smile as she took hold of her younger brother. "I'm so sorry father said all those terrible things to you." She offered.
Tarrant smiled down nostalgically on the face of his sensible sister. Her brilliant waves were pulled back away from her face, falling in gentle cascades over her shoulders and down her back. Her long face was serious and serene, the opposite of his younger sister, Siobhan. Siobhan had wide brown eyes and pert pink lips. Her smile increased the mood of an entire room, her kaleidoscope gaze was everyone's favorite feature.
"I know he didn't mean it, not truly," Tarrant conceded. "But I'm afraid I can't stay long." Tarrant turned to his mother with a sad smile.
"What do you mean?" she asked, her green eyes searching her son.
"Do you remember that fhàidh?"
"Aye," she nodded her head.
"Well, I am from that woman's time. I am not your Tarrant, I'm afraid."
"Och," his mother nodded.
"Please," Tarrant took hold of the woman's hands. "Please remember what my dear Alice told you. You need to be wary of the Frabjous Day."
"Do you know, I know little about foreseeing the future," his mother wiggled her hands free to envelope her son's face. "But I am afraid to say that our free will only goes so far. You may have returned to us, but we are ghosts to you, a mhic," she thumbed his cheeks lovingly. "We may not return to you, but that does not mean we are not proud of you. Even your stubborn athair. You are going to be the greatest Hightopp and you are going to honor our name, even if we are not around to witness it." Her hand reached up to brush against the brim of the singed and worn top hat he bored proudly atop his head. "But I want you to promise me this," she dropped her hands to wrap about her son's. "I want you to promise me that even if we are not there for you that you will not give up. That you will not spend your life grieving and looking back. I want you to look forward, toward the future. Towards hope. Promise me."
"Geallaim duit," Tarrant nodded, though his eyes burned and his throat was tight.
"Guid bairn," his mother patted his cheek. "And take care of that seer for me. Alice?"
"Aye," Tarrant nodded.
"She is one you want to keep around, have her with you for good luck!" His mother squeezed his hand.
"Aye," Tarrant nodded.
"Do yeh want to come back to the house and have some tea before you're on your way?" His mother asked.
"Yes, please do," Elspeth nodded her head, triggered into action.
"Oh, please, even if you're the brother I won't get to know," Siobhan begged.
Tarrant grimaced at the statement. "I'm afraid I can't," he sighed, looking toward the road. "There is someone I need— no, I need to meet my Alice, I mean to say."
He saw his mother's mouth light up with joy. "Aye, that's a good lad. Gae!" She commanded.
"Yes, ma'am," he nodded, taking off through the village. "I promise the old me will be back."
"As Time allows!" His mother shouted. "I'm so happy to have met you, my bonnie bairn."
"The same, màthair," Tarrant waved and turned to take one last look at his mother with her wild red curls, her pink warm smile, and her bright green eyes.
How he would miss her in the nights that were the hardest.
He turned, knowing the truth of what she said. It was time to look forward no matter the outcome, he had those he loved near him.
And one he very much planned on keeping beside him after all was said and done.
Alice hurried after the young Tarrant, breaking into a run after him having been held back by crowds and carts. The younger Tarrant was headed toward the Tulgey Woods with luggage in his hand. The fact that he had quickly pulled together clothes caused Alice to pause and question how long this fight with his father had gone on.
"Hatter," Alice cried out breathlessly as she began to close the distance between the two. "Tarrant! Hatter, wait!"
"I'm no hatter," Tarrant said morosely as she caught up to his stiff gait.
"Of course you are, you're the hatter," she mused as the thought of there being any other. Even seeing Zanik at the helm of the crowing ceremony had seemed odd. "Or, you will be at least, when I knew you."
"You should meet my friend Thackery," Tarrant turned to look at her with amber eyes, his rage still glowing. "He's nearly as mad as you. Won't you join us for some tea."
What Alice once understood to be a compliment seemed to be made in poor taste as he continued, trying to leave her behind. Alice felt her own frustration growing. She knew he was angry at what his father had said, but perhaps he should have behaved more decorously himself.
Maybe I should have as well, a pang hit Alice as she realized his hurt. She had said similar things to her own mother in her anger, had she not? Oh, mother, Alice wilted, recognizing the damage she herself had wrought back at home. When I return, I will make things right between us as well.
When I return. The words echoed through her, hollow and empty.
"Hatter, please," Alice reached forward to grab hold of his arm with vigor, turning him to face her, forcing him to take note of her earnest resolve. "You must go back to your family."
Tarrant responded to her command by dropping his suitcase and glaring down at her. "What do you know of my family?" He asked, his amber eyes narrowing.
"They're in danger," Alice returned his stubbornness with her own. "You have to warn them about Horunvendush Day."
"I have no idea what you're talking about." Tarrant's shrewd gaze morphed into a haughty look of disdain as he returned to the path once again, turning his back on her. Alice took up his luggage, hurrying after him, her pants whipping in the wind. "But if my father sent you to change my mind, you won't!" Tarrant continued forward, his hands crossed before his waist.
"If you don't go back and reconcile, you'll be sorry, I know you will," Alice continued on doggedly, not allowing him to escape what he and she both knew he must do. Besides, at least you can go back to your father, a pang of grief ripped through Alice's body as she recalled her own.
He would have known just what to say to get Tarrant to turn around and repent, rebuild, and restore.
Tarrant turned, shooting her a mocking glance. "Maybe later," he suggested jokingly, turning away from her.
What do I say? She wondered. What would Charles Kingsleigh, the man of great importance, the man of resolve, the impossible dreamer, what would he say?
"I lost my father," Alice confessed, recognizing it wasn't what he would say, but what she might be able to say about him. The statement paused the steaming Hatter. "And I miss him every day."
Tarrant turned, seeing the grieved look on her face, realizing that every word she told him was truth. He approached her where she stood on the arch of the bridge that crossed the narrow stream marking the beginning of the Tulgey Woods. His mouth was a red line as his green eyes passed her face.
"If you walk away, you will lose your father too." Alice replied, the growing pain spreading across her chest as sorrow rang anew. Tarrant made a grab for the suitcase, but she increased her grip, her gaze softening as she met his. "It's forever for me, but it doesn't have to be forever for you! You can still get him back and then you'll really be you again. And a hatter just like him!"
The last statement caused Tarrant to grimace, his lips scrunching to reveal a gat-toothed sneer. "The last thing I want," he began, Alice hearing her own voice in those words. "Is to end up like my father."
Alice knew she had lost her cause when Tarrant glowered at her with an amber gaze. She relinquished the suitcase which he took hold of with a hearty yank. She watched helplessly as he turned away from her, returning to the path once more.
"Tarrrant, wait!" Alice cried out once again. "Your family will be lost and you will have done nothing to stop it!" He continued forward without looking back.
"Fine," she resolved. "Be that stubborn."
She felt a third pang of conviction echo through her body.
Ever the hasty and impulsive Alice, she pondered as she sprinted off toward the fields. Always saying things without thought. A flash of her mother entered her mind.
When she reached the field, she saw her Tarrant waiting patiently, leaning against a tree just outside Witzend. His arms were crossed as he stared off into the distance. She saw that his cheeks were stained with tears.
"Are you alright?" Alice asked breathlessly as she slowed down. He turned to look at her, a red smile on his mouth.
"I should ask you much the same," his green gaze swept her. "I take it the conversation with me didn't go as planned, judging by your scowl and your red cheeks."
Alice brushed as her face absently as she shook her head. "You knew it would end disastrously, why did you send me?"
"Because I needed for it to happen, else I wouldn't have been challenged to change my mind. I'm realizing that sometimes we need thing to occur as they were meant to, no matter how painful or uncomfortable they are."
"Did you find your family?"
"My sisters and my mother, yes," Tarrant nodded.
"And?"
"I reminded them. My mother remembered you," Tarrant smiled at her warmly.
"I make an impression even when I don't want to," Alice replied bitterly. "Do you remember anything different about the Horunvendush Day?"
"No," Tarrant shook his head.
"We should go to the day after, just to be sure, maybe it's playing out still!" Alice answered hopefully, sending the Chronosphere flying through the grass and waiting impatiently as it increased in size.
"Alice, I think maybe— " Tarrant's hand went out to stop her, but he fell short.
"Come on, Tarrant, this is our last chance!" She insisted as she watched the Chronosphere spark and shudder.
"Alice, I," Tarrant watched as Alice hopped onto the craft, impatiently waving him to join her.
"Fine," Tarrant conceded, realizing that perhaps he needed this to happen as well. "Off to Grievorrow Day."
He climbed in behind Alice who quickly grabbed hold of the 'Pull Me" and depressed the lever, sending the Chronosphere shooing through the skies. Tarrant held tight to her waist once more, prepared this time for the spectacle of the Oceans of Time he was about to encounter.
He was glad he knew, because he never wanted to let go. Not again.
This was the last time he was going to give up his family. Perhaps Alice had returned not to return him what he had lost, but to present him with what he had found.
They both had been blind; both had been doubters.
She believed in him, now it was his turn to believe in her.
A/N:
Scottish Gaelic terms:
mhic: my son
athair: father
Geallaim duit: I assure you.
As always, all reviews and kudos and favorites are appreciated. I hope you are enjoying this story as much as I have enjoyed writing it. I have four chapters left and there are two weeks until the movie fully releases. My, how Time has flown (though I'm sure he doesn't appreciate it).
Don't forget to check out my Mad Sort of Love stories- they're what I originally penned before I knew Alice Through the Looking Glass was going to be a thing.
Until next week!
Fairfarren,
Lydia