Though she had come to understand, or at least partially understand the Hatter's madness, Alice doubted if she would ever be able to anticipate his moods. What was it that Mirana had told her? That of all the things in Underland, the Hatter was the most unpredictable.
Well.
Alice was quickly coming to realize the reasoning behind the young queen's warning. Her friend's moods were ever-changing, without a pattern or a direct trigger, so far as she could tell. While the man was typically lucid and upbeat, there were times when darkness came over him, swallowing all his natural joy and crushing it under the weight of unwelcome memories.
She wished it wasn't so, that her friend could be free of that pain, but it was a part of him.
Alice followed the Hatter through the woods, unsure of their destination or even if the man knew where they were going. Any trace of his light mood from the palace had drifted off, leaving the Hatter quiet, yes, but thankfully he was not the despondent stranger he'd been while trying to hide his madness from her.
He was simply...distracted. Alice imagined that he must have much on his mind- but then, he was mad, wasn't he?
They had been walking for a fair bit of the morning already, and the Hatter had stopped several times on the trail to stare off into space. When this happened, Alice would simply stand beside him until the spell passed. She didn't mind; he would come out of the trance with a blink and then simply continue forward down the path as if nothing had happened, cheerful as ever.
But Alice could see past his smiles and the gentle grip he'd kept on her hand through the woods. He wasn't fooling her for a moment. They were to reclaim the home he'd been forced to abandon after the Red Queen had seized power away from her sister, and so the man was swimming in a sea of memory; the happiest scenes recalled were causing him the most pain. And he was in such glorious, exquisite pain.
Alice hadn't touched him or tried to break the trances he'd slipped into as there was no telling how he'd react. She wasn't afraid of the Hatter, she had never been afraid of him, but he always became so ashamed after an outburst; she imagined that going home was difficult enough for him without introducing his humiliation to the equation.
Eventually the trail they had been following opened up into a small, busy village. Alice smiled at the sight of it, for while it was very quaint, it was also very lively. Shops catered every service and the streets were busy with all sorts of creatures- several of them smiled and waved a greeting as they passed. Both Alice and the Hatter waved back, grateful for the friendly reception. There was a kind of music flowing through the village, the music of recovered purpose and hope in the villagers.
"This is a lovely little town, Hatter. Did you grow up here?"
Beside her, he nodded. "Yes, yes. Witzend was home to us all for many generations."
Inwardly, Alice cringed. She believed she knew who "us all" were, and her friend had not reacted well when she'd tried asking him about his family before.
"This is Witzend, then?"
"Yes, we're just east of the White palace- close enough to return the moment the queen has need of us." Hatter's eyes flew over the scene of the village; there was a bittersweet taste coating his tongue.
As the Hatter lead her down a side-street, Alice did notice that, farther off toward the edge of the forest, there was evidence of damage that had taken place years in the unhappy past. She could just make out the charred husk of a building there, surrounded by dead trees with scorched black trunks and piles of ash at their bases.
So, the Red Army had stormed through, but the small town now seemed determined to mend and rebuild. The thought made Alice smile.
They had crossed through the village and had taken up a path through the woods once more. Slightly ahead of her, Alice could hear her friend muttering to himself. "Over the fallen tree, where the branches cross and the stream turns..."
Finally, the Hatter turned a corner and stopped before a large house settled in a clearing of the forest; it was strange, the way the house seemed to simply appear from nothing. Briefly, Alice wondered if it was a spell or some other Underland magic. But the house...
Hatter, I'm so sorry.
The house stood before them, a great sad thing. Several of its windows were broken, the front yard was overgrown with weeds where it was not barren earth and the house face itself seemed to sag with years of neglect. The tragedy here was that the house was once beautiful, Alice could see it. Still, abandonment had done the house no favors, and the worst was yet to come.
Had they been in England, her mother would surely have turned her nose at such a shabby building.
Alice nudged him, "What is this place?"
Hatter answered her but he did not move his eyes from assessing the run-down house. This is not my beautiful home. I knew it wouldn't wait for me- and they will not be inside.
"It's been years. Before the Horunvendush Day, this was my house. It still is, I suppose. All mine. Or, it's ours now, for however long you stay."
Alice patted his hand. "It's a lovely house, Hatter."
Her lie rang hollow in the air.
The man moved forward, cringing as the crooked gate scraped on the stone walk. It never used to make such a screeching racket. When he spoke, his voice was making the shift, growing deeper and worlds more somber, tinged with a peculiar accent. "It used to be wonderfully crowded here."
She followed him up the walk and onto the creaking, splintered front porch. Alice swallowed as he brought an ornate key out from his pocket. "I thought you hated crowds." She recalled, thinking of his rant at the Red palace.
Hatter twisted the key into the lock and grunted with effort as he pushed hard against the door. It gave way, coming off one of the hinges as he stumbled forward into the house. Alice followed after him, watching her step as she crossed the threshold.
A disaster greeted them inside. Broken furniture, shattered dishes and ripped books covered the floors. The wallpaper, once perhaps a cheery pattern of pale blue and yellow stripes was now stained and faded, peeling at some corners of the main room and fully torn from others. Burn marks and large holes peppered the walls. All the handiwork of the Red Army. They had left their mark on those who resisted Iracebeth's rule.
It wasn't like this before, remember? Remember the workshop in the attic where Mortan first trained you and the flowerbeds that Lian planted with Till? And Issa, my Issa… They're all gone now and our house is ruined.
The Hatter was distantly aware of a hand on his shoulder and some quiet words of sympathy. His somber side began speaking mournful poetry without notice. "The kitchen was always filled with food and all the games were good. My family, once here, is now not, all in the claws of the Jabberwocky caught."
"Hatter?"
He blinked, returning to himself and their present circumstance. He didn't want Alice to look at him and see his weakness again. Not here, of all places. He cleared his throat. "Not to worry. I'll find a room for you, Alice. You like windows, do you not?"
Beside him, the girl shifted her weight awkwardly, though she tried to sound upbeat. "Oh, I love windows."
Standing amid the wreckage of a once-happy home, both Alice and her Hatter were doing their best to pretend a feeling of hope. It was very sad.
Hatter clapped his hands, the motion as false as his smile. "Grand! Let's have a look at the garden. It has been some time that I've been home and we had such lovely blossoms this time of the year."
Alice forced a smile to her face. "Lead the way."
It was all dry, cracked earth and dusty gray stones that greeted them once they'd made it to the back garden, having side-stepped and climbed over the wreckage inside. Toppled statues buried beneath blankets of dead leaves. The few trees that remained standing were cracked and leafless.
Alice was sure she felt her friend's heart break beside her.
"Oh, Hatter. I'm so sorry." Just words, so small and meaningless to speak them out loud.
The man moved out of her reach, seemingly distracted by the barren garden; in truth he was growing desperate to be away from her. Alice and her pity, let her keep it. He didn't need it, he didn't want it. What he wanted most in the world was far out of reach, but he would be damned if he let Alice see him fall apart again.
Gone, gone, as you knew it would be- and our guest is witness to all this. Rebuild! Survive! Live on! We'll do it tonight, but the girl must be out of the way. Take care of it.
Hatter blinked, swaying slightly on his feet with the effort it was taking him to restrain his sorrow. "It's all right, Alice. I thought we might find the house in such a state. Her greed was legendary, so why shouldn't she have stolen the flowers? Now...that's right. You stay here, it's safe to explore now. I'll find you a room."
Without another word, the Hatter turned and strode back into the house, slamming the door shut behind him. A moment later she could hear him screaming and slamming the furniture about inside the house.
Her heart clenched with pain. He's hurting so much, but there's no calming him when he's like this.
It killed her to remain in the garden, listening to her friend cry out his despair, but remain she did. Alice thought to let the Hatter rage alone for a time, to release his pain until he was spent- only then would she go to him and help him rebuild his life.
Was she being selfish, letting the man rage alone in this way? Alice wasn't sure, but the bruises from the night before decided her. Being here, in his destroyed family home...she didn't know if she could calm him the way she had in the past.
Her mind flashed to the ranting madman he'd become on her balcony, and her heart trembled. Not for fear of him, but for pure sadness that such a wonderful man had been so damaged during the Horunvendush Day.
They had met before that day had taken place, and he had been so energetic and charming; the Hatter she knew was that same man, but he was tainted by despair, twisted from it's stain on his soul.
Alice cleared the fallen leaves off a stone bench and took a seat. From inside the house, she could hear him growling Outlandish curses. Her heart dipped for him, knowing that his pain would not disappear by anything she could do for him. It was too much a part of who the Hatter was now.
Forgive me.
The back door opened and the Hatter strode outside to greet her, the pretended cheerfulness written all over him. His face had gone ashen again, though he was not as leeched with the effort of restraining his madness. No, this was a physical reaction to confronted memories. His voice carried a strange tension that made Alice nervous. "Oh, Alice, what are you doing here?" He blinked. "Did you see the garden?"
It was hopeless, but she tried again for optimism. "I saw that we both have a few days of hard work ahead of us."
He twitched his head to the side. "Yes, yes, I'll do what I can tonight and it will all be well again. But your room is ready now. Leave the rest to me."
She swallowed and looked over his shoulder to the house. "May I see it?"
"Of course! It's just this way."
He lead the way again, and as Alice stepped inside, she was surprised to see that he had cleared a path through the wreckage, pushing most of it against the far wall, leaving the main room space free to get to the kitchen, the stairs and the entrances.
Perhaps encouragement would settle his temper.
"You made a great start, Hatter."
"Such a lot of work to be done, but I can make everything wonderful again- you'll see. They'll all see and then things will go back to the way they were. It will all be right again."
Alice wasn't sure how to reply to him, for he still appeared gripped by memory. She swallowed once more and followed him down a hallway, to a plain white door.
Hatter paused a moment before opening the door to the room beyond. He stepped aside to allow Alice first entry.
Stepping inside, Alice brought her hands to her chest as a smile bloomed across her face. "Oh, my..."
The room was decorated in the same erratic way as the rest of his cozy house, though there was a definite feminine flair to the space. The walls were splashed with shades of pink and yellow, with the bay windows looking out over the dead garden. Small, crooked pictures lined the wall, surrounding the room. The Hatter had thrown a fresh blanket and pillows over the narrow bed and placed a chipped vase on the dark wood writing desk against the far wall. It was an impressive sight compared to the rest of the house.
She turned to him, full of praise. "Hatter, it's lovely. This room is just beautiful."
His eyes were wavering over the sight of her standing there in that room. It was at once both right and wrong to him, yet another conflict he struggled to reconcile in his mind. His heart.
He remained standing in the doorway, watching as she ventured further into the room to run her fingertips over the blanket, which was very soft, he remembered, and as she stepped closer to the window the sun is making her hair light up like fine gold thread and there now she's touching the vase that was once a gift to-
Stop!
"I will make you a set of curtains so you won't have to look at the dead garden. This room was the least damaged and so it was the easiest to fix. It belonged to…a friend of mine. I'm happy that you like it." He could feel a familiar tightness building in his throat, and though he had just claimed happiness, he found it hurt him to smile.
Memory was building within him, rising like bile in a soured stomach. It was a different wailing this time, he knew, just as he knew that Alice had to be safe from him when he finally allowed the veil over his past to be lifted.
I can't have her...can't have her see, no, no...ah. The tea.
It took an effort, but the Hatter drew himself up and managed to form a plan in his mind. He usually regarded deciet with distaste, but this was all for Alice.
"You must be getting tired. I'll bring you something to eat." He started to turn down the hall, intent for the kitchen.
Alice glanced up. "You don't have to do that."
Hatter spun around at her, his voice suddenly loud and very manic. "But I do! I am your host, am I not?"
She stepped back from him on impulse, trying to keep her voice level to calm him. "I…yes, I suppose you are, this is your house. It's all yours."
Hatter jabbed his finger toward the room, that tension rising in his voice once more. "Hightopp manor is all mine because there is no one left to claim it now. Rest, Alice. I'll bring you a little something and all will be well again!"
Alice could hear the Hatter rattling through the kitchen of the house, though she would find herself surprised if he was able to salvage an unbroken saucer, nevermind a full tea service. And the house, this poor house. It was no effort for her to imagine that it must have been a full, happy home once. She wanted him to tell her of his loss, but it was too soon. She could feel it.
I can't pressure him now, here of all places- best to do as he says so as not to upset him. I know he's on the edge as it is, she thought to herself as she took a closer look at one of the little framed pictures on the wall across from her bed.
She resolved herself to restrain her curiosity, as the last thing she wanted was to set off another of her friend's fits- she feared that his rage may fly to new heights now that the Hatter had learned what became of his family home.
And his family. Alice wanted to know all about them, but again, she had to keep her curiosity on a short leash. She felt sure that he would explain all about them when he was ready. They were close friends, weren't they?
He knocked gently on the door before entering with a chipped teapot and a teacup with a broken handle. He set them both before her on the writing desk and pulled out the chair for her, gesturing for her to have a seat.
"Here you are, Alice, perfect for teatime. I hope you like strawberry tea, I made it just for you."
Drink, drink, drink it!
Alice schooled her features into an expression of gratitude, even though she was becoming very worried. He was her friend and she did trust him, only...
Alice sat down and took a light sip of the tea. It was unnerving to have him stand over her as he was, but she planned to simply do as he asked. The gentle sweetness of strawberries tickled her tongue.
"Oh, it is very good."
The Hatter watched her closely as she sipped at it, his eyes following her every move as she lifted the cup. Alice glanced down to note that his hands were shaking. His whole form seemed to be containing a storm of tension. He nodded eagerly. "I am so glad that you like it. Alice, I need you to stay in your room for the night."
She looked up. "What?"
Inside, the Hatter was struggling to organize his rattling thoughts; for him it was a fierce battle of will over emotion. He had been avoiding Hightopp manor for years out of fear of what he would find, and now that he had made it home there were things he had to do, but he could do nothing before the eyes of his most cherished guest.
He swayed slightly with the effort it took to keep himself outwardly calm, even as his heart was tearing in two. Just look at her! Can't you see it?! This is all your doing, you knew it from the start! Alice looks just-
"I'm not…take a rest, Alice. You must be tired."
Alice shook her head- something was clearly wrong with him, so why was he keeping up this pretense of the gracious host?
"Hatter, stop-"
Hatter blinked rapidly and then looked at her, focusing his vision and so focusing his thoughts. Her pretty face clouded with concern for him. For him!
His thoughts rushed into a straight line, cracking into sharp, fixed clarity. He swallowed and kneeled before her. He reached to take her hands into his; he loved that she gave him her hands without hesitating.
He began speaking slowly, wholly sincere. "Listen to me, Alice, please. I need you to bolt the door behind me and stay in this room for the night, no matter what you hear. I'm- I'm afraid of what I'll do."
"What's happening to you?" Her eyes were wide, afraid for him.
He looks so awful, oh, Hatter, what can I do to help you?
The man's veneer was slipping, giving Alice a startling glimpse of the battle taking place within. As he spoke, his voice was transitioning between the lucid and the deranged.
"I'm...Tarrant has come home to an empty house. And you will sleep very well here in this room. Alice, it's been a long day, has it not? You must be wishing for a rest. The bed, the bed, take a nap but don't leave this room." The Hatter shook his head before continuing, "He doesn't want you to be...we have to see this through now, Alice, and you must promise to throw the bolt after I leave this room. Can you make this promise?!" He demanded.
Alice did not know what else she could do, so she nodded.
The Hatter immediately smiled, recovering somewhat at her agreement.
With Alice safely tucked away in this room, he would be free to confront everything that had been haunting him. He looked forward to it; for too long his anguish had resided within himself, and now he would have a proper sit-down with it and he would decide for himself how to live.
The Hatter's only concern was for the girl; he couldn't have her see him in such a state, and he couldn't trust himself not to frighten her away.
"Well then, I'm sure you must be tired. Have a rest, Alice. The tea will help you sleep, and don't forget to bolt the door!" He stood abruptly and left the room, closing the door behind him.
Growing more confused by the second, Alice shook her head. Why did her mind suddenly feel so sluggish? She set her half-empty cup aside and bolted the door behind the Hatter, wondering for a moment if he had been waiting in the hall just outside, waiting for her to turn the lock.
When she turned back toward the room, Alice swayed on her feet, stumbling her way to the bed.
What's happening to the Hatter? Why is he acting so...so mad...I can't understand it...
Her last thoughts trailed away as she slipped into a deep, black sleep.
