Chapter Eleven - Reunited
"Hatter!" Alice's heart went into overdrive as she cradled his face in her hands, trying to stir him to consciousness again. Please no, let him be okay...Not like this...
"It's all right," Rory said quickly, his fingers pressed against the pulse point in Hatter's neck. "He's alive. Charlie, let's start a fire. We need to get him warm." While the men hurried about clearing a spot to start a fire, Alice peeled off her jacket and tucked it in around Hatter's legs. Then she stretched out along the ground and wrapped herself against his side as tightly as she could to share her body heat.
"Stay with me, Hatter," she whispered against the side of his neck, rubbing her free hand up and down his other arm to chase away the chill. "You're not leaving me now. Not after all this."
Rory and Charlie got a campfire built up in a place where they had cleared away all of the grass and they slid Hatter as close to it as was safe. Rory helped Alice get the drenched tunic off of Hatter and they replaced it with Rory's suit jacket. Alice never left his side during the following few hours, alternating between cleaning all of the visible injuries and rubbing warmth into his skin.
There were definitely plenty of injuries to tend to; scratches and bruises and the gaping hole in his shoulder that was crusted over with blood and dirt. He looked like he'd been in a brutal fight and lost, which made no sense to her. Hatter never lost a fight. She picked up his right hand, wondering if he'd hurt it. That was the only way she could imagine him losing a fight.
As she was examining his dirty fingers, she spotted something else: bruises and chafing around his wrist. On closer inspection, she saw the same marks on his left wrist, as well as just above his ankles. The truth made nausea burn up inside of her.
"They tortured him," she said coldly, sitting up to look incredulously at the others. "He was tied up and defenceless when they did this to him. Who would do something like that?" Even as she said it, she knew it was a ridiculous question. She could still remember the scrapes and blood on his face that Mad March had inflicted while he'd been held at the Casino, as well as the burns and bruises on his torso from the Doctors Dee and Dum. He had never told her exactly what happened – just a few cuts and bruises, he'd always say – but she knew that not all of it could've come from fighting his way free.
"We can't stay here long," Rory said, tactfully dodging her observation. "That bird could be back, or someone could come looking for him. We need to get back to Wonderland soon as we can."
"Not until he wakes up," Alice said, rubbing Hatter's hands between both of hers. "Not until I know he's okay."
"If we get eaten by the Juby, none of us is going to be okay," Rory said but he didn't argue, gun at the ready as he kept watch at the edge of their little camp.
Alice swallowed hard against the thought and turned her attention back to Hatter. The wound in his shoulder had cracked and blood was seeping out into the jacket. "We've got to stop this bleeding," she said, applying pressure with her palm.
"I can fix that," Charlie said. He walked over to Gawain and pulled something from inside of the saddlebag, and then came back to them. He knelt down with a groan and unrolled a strip of leather, revealing a pair of white needles and a knotted twist of thread.
"You're going to stitch him?" Alice asked dubiously.
"It is one of the many necessary skills of a knight," Charlie said with his usual bravado. Narrowing his eyes, he set about trying to untangle the thread while murmuring a handful of unfamiliar curse words beneath his breath.
"Here, give it here," Alice said, grabbing the string from his hand. Charlie sputtered indignantly but she ignored him as she deftly started picking apart the little knots. When she'd finished, she handed the length of thread back to him with a smile. "It's easier when you have fingernails."
The knight twitched his jaw irritably, looking torn between gratitude and frustration. He apparently decided not to answer, and just took the string and threaded it through the needle. "Fingerbone of a Tove," he said when he caught her staring. "I caught it myself when I stood no taller than a Sycaric bush. I was studying under the tutelage of Sir-"
"Charlie," Alice cut in, "could we focus, please?"
"Right, of course." Charlie cleared his throat and examined the wound critically. "I'll need your help, Just-Alice." He showed her in the proper places to hold the skin together – she tried her hardest not to feel ill as blood stained her fingertips – and then, after running of water over the wound to clean it, he plunged in the needle. Alice locked her jaw and turned her gaze away. She had never been squeamish but somehow because it was Hatter it made everything so much worse.
"Ow." Alice turned back and her gaze landed immediately on a pair of squinted brown eyes. "Mouldy tea leaves," Hatter cursed thickly and tried to move.
"Hold still," she said gently, moving one hand from his injured shoulder to push down on his chest.
Hatter's eyes flicked blearily to her and she watched the recognition click. "Alice," he breathed. "It–" He broke off with a hiss as Charlie laced another stitch through his shoulder. "It wasn' a dream," he finished in awe.
"Of course not," she replied. "Now just hold still for a second. We're nearly finished." Hatter closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, breathing pointedly through his nose, as Charlie continued to stitch the wound. Alice's hand found his and squeezed it reassuringly, and he clung to her like a lifeline until the tips of her fingers began to tingle from the loss of circulation. Finally, Charlie knotted the thread and cut it with a dagger.
"Done?" Hatter asked, opening his eyes just a fraction.
In response, Alice leant in and kissed him. Hatter seemed startled for a second, and then she felt his smile against her lips as he returned the gesture. When they pulled apart he was beaming and he nuzzled his forehead against hers affectionately. "Finally," he breathed.
Alice sat up, laughing softly. "How are you feeling?" she asked.
"Like I've been run over by a bloody truck," he said, wrinkling his nose.
"A what?" Charlie asked in confusion.
Hatter's eyes darted sideways, noticing the knight for the first time, and his grin widened. "Charlie?" he asked, surprised.
"It is good to see you well, Harbinger," Charlie said and returned the smile generously.
"Not sure 'well' is the word for it," said Hatter, grimacing as he struggled to sit up. He didn't make it. "I've 'ad better days. And 'pparently I'm startin' to talk like an Oyster."
"You say that like it's a bad thing," Alice teased and he smirked, his lip cracking so that a bead of blood appeared. Her good humour at finding him dissipated slightly and she asked, "Hatter, what happened to you?"
"Bad time o' year for a swim," he said with a shiver. "I neva' learn. One time I wen' for a dip in the lake with – erm, well 'er name ain' important. Anywhich, buck naked in the mid o' the cold season. Nearly lost all me extremities. Hey-" His eyes panned up and he grinned. "You brought me hat. Thought I'd neva' see 'er again."
Alice smiled and touched the brim. "Well, what's a Hatter without his hat?"
"I like to think 'e's still a decent bloke," he replied cheekily. He tried to get up again and this time, Alice leant in, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and helping him into a sitting position. Hatter leant into her side, letting her hold up most of his weight. "Where we at?"
"The fields outside Wonderland, apparently," Alice said.
Hatter nodded grimly. "We need to get back to Wonderland before they come after me."
Charlie huffed and drew his sword. "I will stand and fight! Who committed this dire act of violence against you, that I might avenge in your name and the name of Alice-of-Legend?"
"Don't." The sudden seriousness of Hatter's expression caught them unawares. "Just let it go."
"I will not stand idly by and allow this grievous injustice to go unpunished," Charlie argued.
"Trust me, these're not the sor' of people you mess with," Hatter insisted. "I mean it, I don' wan' either of you anywhere near 'er."
Charlie swelled indignantly, his face purpling. "I am the paladin, and I do not take orders from a harbinger."
"This time, you do," Hatter said and his tone left no room for argument. Not for the first time, she wondered if there was more to Hatter's history than he was letting on because he exuded the power of authority. Even pale and battered, he was an intimidating sight as he stared down the older Knight.
"Who did this to you?" Alice asked gently to break the tense moment, although she was no longer sure that she wanted to know.
"Someone I dearly 'ope you neva' meet," Hatter answered, vague but sincere. "Olde' and more powerful than the Queen of Hearts could dream of bein'. I just want to put s'much space 'tween us and 'er as we can."
"He's right," Rory said. Hatter craned his head around in alarm to see who was talking. "We came to get him back and nothing more. We should return to Wonderland and inform the king of what's happening."
"Who the 'ell are you?" Hatter asked, eyeing the gun in Rory's hand distrustfully.
"Rory Capricorn, sir," the Suit said, placing a fist over his heart and bowing his head. "Ranking soldier in His Majesty's royal guard."
"A Suit," Hatter translated. He looked at Alice incredulously. "You brought a Suit?"
"Rory's been a great help," she said in the other man's defence. "I wouldn't have made it here without him."
Hatter glanced between them both for a second longer and then he nodded. "Thanks, then." He groaned and rolled his stitched shoulder. "We should move. They might come afta' me."
"You can hardly sit up," Alice protested. "And you're still half-frozen."
"And if they catch us up, they'll kill you," Hatter said, impassioned. At her frown his expression softened. "I'll be fine, love. I've been worse an' I'm still 'ere, ain't I?"
As Alice took in his beaten appearance, she had a hard time believing he'd ever been in a worse condition, but he was giving her that look of complete openness that meant he was admitting a truth that he usually kept quiet. She had also never seen so much fear in his eyes, so whoever was after him must be truly terrifying.
"He can take the horse," Rory offered. "If you ride with him, you can keep an eye on him. Besides, we only have a couple more hours until we'll have to stop for dark."
"Fine," Alice relented grudgingly, only because she had run out of reasonable arguments. She helped Hatter into his now mostly dry shirt, while the other two cleared up the evidence of their campsite. It took the combined effort of Rory and Alice to get Hatter onto Gawain's back – Charlie tried to help but he was more of a nuisance than anything. Once he was settled they boosted Alice up behind him. She got as comfortable as she could, and then reached her arms around his waist to put her hands over his on the reins.
"You know, last time we was on an 'orse, I tried to get ya to do this wit' me and you said no," Hatter pointed out playfully.
"And if you weren't about to fall over you'd still be on your own," she replied but she was fighting a smile. At least he was still making jokes, that had to mean he would be all right.
Hatter chuckled. "I'mma fall more of'en."
They rode back toward the distant forest, Charlie and Rory walking on either side of them like bodyguards. For a while it was quiet except for the sounds of their march, but their added height granted Alice and Hatter some privacy from the others. She nestled her cheek against his back and murmured, "I missed you."
"You too," he replied and he lifted one of her hands to place a tender kiss on the inside of her wrist. He laced their fingers together before returning them to the reins. "You're all righ', aren't you? I mean, Gryphon didn' hurt you, did he?"
"I'm fine," she said. "Although we're going to have to replace the door frame in the bedroom when we get home. You broke it."
"Need to work on me aim," he said, shaking his head. "Goin' soft in your world."
"Because you were supposed to be able to," Alice said. "What do they want from you?"
"Information," he replied. "O'ny it's information I don' know, but dey think I do. People 'ere don' take my word so easy as they do in your world."
"How did they get through anyway?" she asked. "The Looking Glass was locked."
"That I dunno," he admitted, touching the Stone of Wonderland on her finger idly. "Must've found a way to stabilise one of the wild Rabbit Holes, I reckon. Wonderland's full of secrets, and no one knows 'em all."
Alice mused over that enigmatic response for a minute and felt a weight settle in the pit of her stomach. "So we can't just go home," she concluded. "Because they'll just keep coming after you."
Hatter's shoulders slumped in defeat, but his tone was determined. "We'll figure somethin'."
When the sun reached the horizon, they stopped for the night at a flattened clearing beside the river. A few metres up the opposite bank, a wooden pallet had snagged in the reeds and the sight of it made Hatter chuckle. "So tha's where it ended up," he said. At Alice's questioning noise he added, "That's me boat. Or it was 'til it ditched me back there."
"You were riding that down the river?" she asked incredulously.
"Aye, not as nice as Bianca," he lamented. Alice rolled her eyes; he had a strange attachment to his old smuggling boat, which he'd sold before leaving Wonderland. The first time she'd heard him talking about it, she'd thought Bianca was an old girlfriend, which had led to a confusing and ultimately funny row. Hatter tossed a sly smirk her way and she knew he was thinking of the same thing.
Although he tried his hardest to hide it, Hatter was obviously in considerable pain as they helped him off the horse. The moment he was on the ground Alice commanded him to sit so she could check over the worst of his injuries. He complied with an exasperated huff.
"Who knew you were such a fussy-fish," he remarked in amusement as she tilted his chin up to examine the swollen scratches on his neck.
"A what?" Alice asked distractedly.
"A fussy-fish," said Hatter, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and she knew she was about to be treated to one of an endless supply of Wonderland peculiarities. "You know, one o' them folks what's always dartin' 'bout and fussin' over thin's."
Alice moved from his neck to the stitches in his shoulder. "You mean a worry-wart?"
Hatter snorted and stared at her disbelievingly. "A wart?" he echoed. "What in the cards 'as a wart got to worry 'bout?"
"Not a – hold still – not a literal wart," she said, critically eyeing a spot where the stitches had pulled at the skin and made it bleed. "It's just a figure of speech, I think."
"Mental," he said with a grin.
"Well, what have fish got to worry about then?" Alice pointed out, moving on from the stitches.
"Bein' eaten, o' course," he replied and gave her a look like that should've been clear. "Fussies are delicious, if you 'an catch one. Fast buggers an' they're right paranoid; bolt at the firs' sign o' so much as a shadow. Taste great with cheese, though."
"You know sometimes I think you make all of these things up just to make fun of me," she said.
"I mean it," he said earnestly. "Ya grill 'em up and melt a bit of cheese o'er em. Best way."
"I think she means about the fish," Rory chipped in. "And they're real. Little blue fish that live in the rivers up in the mountains. They're a bit of a delicacy since they're so hard to catch." Hatter gave her a pointed look and smiled.
"This place makes no sense," was her only response. Hatter and Rory both chuckled quietly at her annoyance.
Alice was in a much better mood that night as they gathered around the campfire to eat their meagre dinner. Having Hatter by her side again, even in his sorry state, was comforting. He seemed to feel the same way, as he was more affectionate than usual, reaching out every few seconds just to squeeze her hand or brush her knee.
When Rory and Charlie turned to exchanging stories again on their side of the fire, Alice reached over and placed Hatter's hat on his tangled hair. He touched the brim fondly. "You know, it's good to see ya in that coat 'gain," he said with a grin. "Brings back some nice mem'ries."
"Those were nice memories?" Alice asked. "Running for our lives and being shot at constantly?"
"Well," he said and shrugged, "the wet dress was nice anyway." Alice laughed and nudged him with her elbow. Hatter leant into her side and gazed up thoughtfully. "I've missed the stars 'ere," he said. "They're diff'rent than in your world."
Alice tilted her head back and looked up at the sky. The indigo blanket was speckled with glimmering white spots, interspersed with dots of red and pale blue. She searched but couldn't find any of the familiar constellations that her father had taught her when she was young. "They seem closer here," she observed curiously. "And brighter."
"The skies're clearer," Hatter said. "The pollution from the Casino mus' be fin'lly cleared out."
"We've been gone eight years," she said, reaching down and weaving their fingers together.
"It shoulda been more," he said and frowned. "It's slowed down 'ere. Somethin's gone off."
Alice drew closer to his side as a chill raced down her spine. "Charlie says the magic's coming back."
"Yeah, I can feel it," he agreed. He was rubbing the fingertips of his free hand together like the magic was a tangible fabric he could hold in his grip. "Could be what's got things off. They said when magic was 'ere before it made the 'ole world a mad place. No sense at all. Bit like those books o' yours say."
"You mean like talking animals and shrinking potions and Cheshire cats?" she asked.
"Not quite that," he amended with a laugh. "Well, 'cept the Cheshire cats, but they ne'er really went away. Just in hidin', they say, and they show up wheneve' something interestin' 'appens. The week I've 'ad, I'm more'n ready to believe that." There was something in the lines of his face that told her there was more he wasn't saying.
Trying to lighten the tone, she conversationally said, "I had a really weird dream about a Cheshire cat a couple days ago."
Hatter reacted wildly, pivoting to look at her so fast that his hat tipped back to a precarious angle on his head. "You what?" he asked. "When? Why didn' you say?"
Flabbergasted, Alice was about to answer when Rory abruptly stood up on the opposite side of the fire, his hand on his holster. "What is it?" she asked in concern.
The Suit narrowed his eyes and then his jaw set. "Someone's coming," he said, drawing his gun. Alice turned in alarm and, through the darkness, she could just make out a large mass of shadows heading their way. She cursed, drawing out the gun she'd taken from Hatter's shop. "Alice, take Hatter and go," Rory said. "Charlie and I will cover you."
Charlie was noisily clunking to his feet, murmuring war cries and curses to himself, as Alice turned to Hatter. She had just taken his arm when hoofbeats broke the silence. Apparently, their pursuers knew that they'd been spotted. "Are you going to be able to ride?" she asked Hatter as she helped him steady on his feet.
"Don' worry 'bout me, love," he said determinedly, in that familiar tone that usually preceded him doing something noble and stupid.
Alice huffed. "I didn't come all this way just to lose you again now." She held onto Gawain's reins, prepared to help him up onto the saddle. Hatter made no motion, his eyes fixed on something passed her shoulder. She spun around to see another cluster of shadowy horsemen coming at them from the other direction. Cursing, she turned and saw a third group on their other side. They were surrounded, backed against the rushing river.
"Lower your weapons!" roared a loud, coarse voice from the fore-group. Hatter lifted his open hands as Rory and Alice obediently set their guns on the ground. Charlie let out an indignant sputter and lifted his sword higher.
"The White Knight lowers his sword for no-one!" he bellowed. The horsemen reached the edge of their camp, finally bathed in the light of the fire, and Charlie sputtered. Immediately dropping his sword, he knelt creakily and bowed his head. "Your majesty."
A large man rode slightly ahead of the others and eyed them with a confident grin. His face was wreathed in shaggy, copper hair and the firelight was reflected in his iris-less white eyes. "I'm glad we could catch up to you before you got too far," the man said, addressing Hatter. "It was a bit disappointing when we got inside my sister's fortress only to find you missing."
"Aye, well, sorry to dis'point," Hatter replied, the faintest tremor under his usual bravado that only Alice was close enough to pick up on. He stepped deliberately in front of Alice and fixed the horseman with a flat expression. "That make you the White Prince, then?"
The man let out a booming, baritone laugh. "You're as clever as they say, Hatter," he noted with amusement. "Prince and Knight of the White Kingdom, but you, my friend, can call me the Lion."
