Author's Note: There are some chapters that I can sit down and crank out within a couple of hours. The prose flows from my brain to the laptop with nothing lost in translation, and my characters happily do exactly what I want them to. This was not one of those chapters. It's actually one of the rare times that I completely erased everything I'd done, and started over from scratch. My biggest frustration was that, once again, Tarrant utterly refused to cooperate with me. I hadn't indended to reveal my plot twists quite so soon, but… Tarrant's Mad, he's not stupid. He is perfectly able to put cups and leaves together and come up with tea, even if right now he doesn't want to face the brew he's made.
Naming Game Note: Gulliver comes from Gulliver's Travels, by Jonathan Swift. Luthien comes from the tale of Beren and Luthien, in Tolkien's Silmarillion. Scheherazade comes from the name of the storytelling queen in One Thousand and One Nights [often aka'd as 1001 Arabian Nights]. Ophelia comes from Shakespeare's Hamlet.
Character Name Note: Regina means queen. Miraget [pronounced meer-AH-get] is a conlgomerate of Mirana and Margaret.
Hat Note: Cloches weren't invented [in the Aboveground, at least] until 1908. This story takes place in 1895. Therefore, Jane has no frame of reference for what a cloche is, and that's why she's a bit confused about it.
Music Note: The music Jane is hearing on Hightopp Hill is River Flows In You by Yiruma. I don't know why, but it was absolutely perfect for what I wanted.
Costume Note: Remove all spaces.
Jane's new dress [but in purple]: http:/ images 4. fanpop. com/ image/ photos/ 16000000/ Alice- in- Wonderland- alice- in- wonderland- 2010- 16094078 -456 -1039. jpg Yes, I fully realize that Tarrant is basically remaking Jane the dress he made for Alice. No, there is no psychologically disturbed subtext here with Tarrant trying to replace Alice with Jane a la Vertigo. I just like that dress.
Jane's new hat [but imagine it sky blue with a purple ribbon and lace flower]: http:/ www. fearthosewithless. co. uk/ wp- content/ gallery/ 1920s- hats/ jolie- cloche. jpg
Where I Stole It From Disclaimer: Yes, I stole a bit from the musical Cats. I figured that given that this is Underland, adventures of talking Cats wouldn't be strange. And yes, I did steal from The Silmarillion. Mostly because I like the idea that at least some of our myths and fantasies come from Underlandian history. Yep, I stole the Atlantis myth too. It was too convenient not to use.
Map Disclaimer: I did manage to find a map of Underland on fanpop, but I'm making up the topography because honestly, the map wasn't all that helpful. Likewise, I utterly made up the basic characteristics of each kingdom.
Backstory Disclaimer: Yes I am severely screwing with canon as pertains to Tarrant's occupation as a Hatter, and the background of the Hightopp clan. I don't have a good excuse for it other than "I thought it was a cool idea." I wanted a reason why there's always been a Hightopp employed at court, and this is what I came up with.
Special Thanks: Thanks to my shiny new beta, Thirteen Thorns [aka'd as -Wings.X-X Prod.] for taking me on!
The Sun took his own sweet time rising, as if he and Time had colluded to torture Tarrant Hightopp as much as possible. After showing Jane into a guest room and retiring to his own room, which Thackery had kindly conceded to him when he came here after Tiny Alice left as a child, Tarrant had sworn to himself that he was going to court Sleep, and would not leave his room until dawn broke.
He was finding it very hard to keep his promise. Sleep had eluded him, no matter how Tarrant tried to entice her to stay. Finicky lady, Sleep; she was almost as tempermental as Time. He had laid on his back, flopped to his side, his stomach, his other side. He had tried laying with his head at the footboard and his feet at the headboard, stretching diagonally across the mattress, had even tried sleeping sitting up. But none of it had worked. Sleep had simply abandoned Tarrant, leaving him to wait out her sister Night. That shouldn't have been so very hard; Tarrant had become quite good at Waiting. But Time, the heartless beast, had dragged on to nearly the point of stopping altogether. Tarrant had to wonder when Time would ever get over his grudge. Honestly, he hadn't meant that murder attempt! …That particular time. He supposed he could understand Time for being miffed about Tarrant intentionally killing him after Alice left post-Frabjous Day. But to be angry about that first time… he hadn't been killing Time that time, no matter what the Bloody Big Head tried to claim!
Since Time was being, as usual, an ornery opponent, Tarrant had been left to only his Thoughts. It was dangerous to leave Tarrant in Thought's clutches; that way lay the Madness. His mind had been shattered and fragmented after the Horunvendush Day, like a splintered mirror, and for the longest time he hadn't been able to put the pieces back together. When he'd had His Alice, it had been easier; she had become the glue that kept the shards of his psyche together. Since her disappearance, though… the pieces had merely broken back apart and fallen to the floor, and he didn't have the willpower to fix them into a proper Looking Glass again.
He had new motivation now, he told himself. The return of the Azure Princess, the wee little boy he had loved and guarded over since the day he'd learned of the Blue Queen's pregnancy. The appearance of a new Champion could mean nothing other than that the Retiuni Day was coming at last. The Blue Royal Family would be reunited and restored, and Jane would be the one to do it. How could he do anything other than pledge to support her? He had been the Blue Queen's Champion, her Ace of Clubs; he had sworn to give his life to protect the Azure Princess, and he would fulfill those oaths, half-mad or not.
As soon as the sky began to lighten in pre-dawn glow, Tarrant flung himself from the bed. He had slept not at all, but that didn't matter now. There would be plenty of time for sleeping after he'd gotten Jane and the Azure Princess to Marmoreal safely. Until they were safe within the ivory walls of the White Queen's palace, he would focus on one thing and one thing only, and that was recovering the Princess. And perhaps a few passing thoughts, because he couldn't seem to help himself, but those thoughts would be of only truly important things, like tea, and shoes and ships and sealing wax, cabbages and kings and cloches and captains and captions and-
Right. He cut himself off, clearing his throat and shaking his head. He would focus on the Azure Princess. Much as he had for the past… however long it had been, since she was taken from him.
He crossed to the stand in the corner, attending to his morning ablutions absently [without a mirror, of course; Tarrant hated mirrors more than he hated Time]. He found his gaze unfocusing as his mind went back to the Princess. Strange; in the years [it had been years, had it not? Time would not be so churlish as to make it only days… at least, he hoped not…] since her disappearance, Tarrant had continued to think of the Princess as an infant. He supposed he couldn't be faulted for that; that was the only way he'd ever known her. But she most likely wasn't an infant now.
Frowning, he wondered how much of her life he had missed. Was it possible that his beloved little Princess was now a grown woman, ready to be crowned a Queen in her own right? He didn't like that possibility. Far better to imagine her still as a baby, smelling of honeysuckle and sweetness. Yes, it was easier to think of her as the little baby he'd bounced on his knee, the wee little boy whose silken curls had never stayed tidy, whose clever little fingers had unerringly gone for his Hat whenever she found an opportunity. It was easier to think of the bairn he'd known than the great girl he didn't. What would she be like now, he cautiously wondered. Was her lovely hair as untidy as ever? Was she still as curious, her smile as enchanting? The Blue Queen had often said that her daughter had a voice made for singing; did the Princess sing now? Would he recognize the girl the baby had become?
He drew a deep breath, closing off that line of thought with an effort of Alice-ish proportions. Forcing his mind back to the present moment, he prepared to leave. White poet's shirt, his tartan kilt. Plum-colored vest, peacock blue jacket, colorful cravat. Mismatched socks- one white and black striped, the other solid green, and his sturdiest boots. He grabbed his claymore from where it rested against the armoire and strapped it to his back, thankful he'd kept it sharpened and ready ever since the Horunvendush Day.
He popped his Hat on his head, and walked out into the hallway, mind running through the list of supplies they'd need. Food for two to three days, he wagered, in case the journey took longer than it should [even had there been a path, roads in Underland were notoriously strongminded and unreliable; you could end up heading in the complete opposite direction you meant to take, if the roads didn't like you]. Skins for water. A rudimentary tea service, of course. Sewing tools, because you simply never knew. Perhaps a button, for travel games.
Sighing, Tarrant gathered the supplies together and packed them within a few rucksacks. That done, he headed outside to get a feel for the weather… and then froze, frowning in surprise at the riders who had just broken through the forest.
"Duke Hightopp," one of the Pawns said as he dismounted, his high voice oddly discordant with his armor.
"The White Queen didn't trust her new Champion to the company of a mad man?" Tarrant asked, folding his arms.
"Oh no, she knows you can get the Champion there with no trouble," the Pawn countered. "She sent us because the land's been… unsettled, lately."
"Unsettled?" Tarrant asked, frowning.
The Pawn nodded grimly. "The Trees have been whispering about creatures lurking that ought not to be there. Birds tell of stirrings in the Outlands. Her Majesty doesn't want you to run into any trouble."
"Very kind of her," Tarrant nodded, giving in resignedly. "We'd be glad of the company, if you don't mind going a circuitous journey."
The Pawn likely would have commented, but something seemed to have caught his attention over Tarrant's shoulder. Tarrant glanced back, to be greeted with the sight of a bemused, distinctly soggy Jane, blinking sleep and tea out of her eyes.
"Oh dear! Are you alright?" Tarrant asked, rushing back to her.
"Thackery said I was late for tea," Jane said, pushing a wet lock of hair out of her face.
"Oh goodness," Tarrant said, giggling. "That was terribly naughty of him. Pawns, if you would please secure our provisions while I whip up something a bit drier for our Champion to wear?" Tarrant asked, clapping his hands. "We really must be off, you know."
"Yes, of course, Duke Hightopp," the Pawn said, bowing.
"Wonderful! Back in a tick," Tarrant said, sing-song.
He grabbed Jane's hand and hurried back upstairs, glancing over his shoulder at her.
"Did you sleep well?" he asked.
Jane nodded. "Much better than I thought I would, not being in my own bed."
"Good!" Tarrant nodded. "Now come come, let's get you out of this tea-soaked thing."
"Do you think the tea will set in the fabric?" Jane asked, worried. "I'm quite fond of that dress."
"Oh, not at all," Tarrant said. "A little butter and some jam and it will be good as new! It looks very much like a dress Alice used to wear, you know. And just as impractical for traveling," he giggled. "Shall I remake this for you?"
"Oh, could you?" Jane asked eagerly. "And could you… maybe… would you make me a hat to go with it?"
Tarrant paused, a delighted look on his face. "You like hats?"
"I love them," Jane smiled. "They're my favorite thing, apart from tea."
"How marvelous!" the Hatter grinned. "Yes, you will have a hat to go with this dress. And a wonderful hat it shall be! At least, I hope it shall be wonderful- you see, I haven't been making hats very much anymore, because I've been sitting at the Tea Party waiting for the Princess to find me and that doesn't leave much time for anything else-"
"Tarrant!"
"Fez… I'm fine." He shook his head, before refocusing. "Give me just a moment…"
He walked around Jane once, not once reaching for a measuring tape or a dress pattern. But he asked her questions like how many tarts she ate in a day, what she thought of momeraths, and how many bumps were on her skull. Seemingly satisfied with her bewhildered answers, he hurried to his worktable, her dress in his hands. There was a sound of rippening, snickersnacking, and rapid stitches, and moments later the Hatter held up a new creation in delight. The skirt fell only down to Jane's knees, and other than two slight straps had no shoulders. It looked scandalous- and strangely comfortable. The blue sash had been converted into a thin ribbon that went around the hem and under the bustline; the rest of the sash was apparently going to be used to make her hat. She stared at it in amazement for a moment before rushing behind a folding screen to try it on. Two of her three petticoats were found to be unnecessary; when she kicked them away Tarrant pounced on them, claiming he could use them to help make her hat. She hurriedly pulled on the dress, buttoning the little buttons that went up the side, marveling at how light the dress was.
"How do I look?" Jane asked as she emerged, smiling and twirling around.
"Wonderful!" Tarrant smiled. "All you need is a hat!"
Bowing, he presented her with one. She stared at it in awe; it was unlike any hat she had ever seen. It had been made from the remains of her blue sash, and conformed closely to her head. A scrap of her plum-colored dress had been transformed into a ribbon that went around the hat, and the lace of her petticoats had been twisted and knotted until they formed a small cluster of roses just above her left ear.
"Do you like it?" he asked with a gap-toothed grin.
"It's wonderful!" she exclaimed, bending forward so he could set it on her head. "What's it called?"
"A cloche," Tarrant replied, tilting his head in confusion. "Don't you have them Above?"
"No, I've never seen anything like this before," she said, gently touching the hat. "It's so beautiful. Thank you, Tarrant!"
"My pleasure, my lady," Tarrant grinned. "Now, shall we be off?"
Jane nodded in affirmation, and ran to her room, gathering up her book and checking to be sure her baby bonnet was still tucked between its pages. Wrapping the book back into her blanket, she picked it up and headed to the door, Witzend following closely- well, prancing was more like it. The Kitten had been prancing ever since she came to Wonderland, due to the sheer pleasure of the difference between being a kitten and being a Kitten.
"What do you think, Witzend?" Jane asked, reaching down to scoop the Kitten into her arms. "Shall we have an adventure?"
"I think that's a very good idea," Witzend agreed, squirming in Jane's arms. "Since that's what we've been brought here to do."
Grinning, Jane skipped down the stairs, humming to herself. "We're ready!" she announced as she landed in the living room.
"Wonderful!" Tarrant grinned. "Now, shall we take that parcel of yours and tuck it safe in one of these packs?"
"I think that's a good idea," Jane nodded, easily relinquishing her precious cargo.
Tarrant froze the moment he touched the fabric, eyes widening in shock. He knew this fabric- remembered the exact shade of blue, the feel of the thread beneath his fingers, the scent that even now faintly clung to the cloth. This was Alice fabric, taken from the dress she'd left behind in the Room of Doors. McTwisp had brought it to him, after Alice defeated the Jabberwocky and left. And later, it had become…
"Tarrant?" Jane broke into his thoughts curiously.
He cut that line of thought off immediately. He didn't have time for that memory, or the bout of Madness it would cause. Perhaps when they stopped tonight, he could take a closer look at the fabric, and take the time to wonder how on earth it had come into Jane's possession.
"Yes, yes of course! I'm fine," he said hastily, quickly tucking Jane's parcel into one of the packs strapped to the stallion he'd be riding. "Let's be off!"
"To Marmoreal, my lord?" the Pawn asked.
"No, to Hightopp Hill," Jane corrected him.
"Hightopp Hill?" he asked, glancing past Jane to Tarrant.
"Aye," Tarrant nodded grimly, his brogue deepening his voice. "Th' lass says we'll fin' th' Princess thaur."
"That takes us quite a ways away from Marmoreal," the Pawn said uneasily. "And close to the Outlands."
"Can ye nae handle 'at, laddie?" Tarrant asked, smirking faintly.
"Is it that far from Marmoreal?" Jane asked, frowning.
"It's not close, Miss," the Pawn confirmed. "The site's not even that close to the Blue Royals' old castle, so we won't be able to stop there for the night."
"Which is jist an aw," Tarrant said darkly. "There's nae reason tae stir up those ghosts."
The Pawn inclined his head, acknowledging the point and the warning implicit within, while Jane glanced between the two men uneasily, wondering what undercurrents to this conversation she was missing. But before she could question either of them, another Pawn stepped forward and boosted her onto her horse, and all of Jane's attention was taken with getting used to the mount. The mare, while seemingly gentle, was still at least two hands taller than any she had ridden Above, and Jane wasn't the largest of girls. She hoped she would be able to keep the animal under control…
"Who are you this morning, love?" Tarrant lisped as as Thackery and Mally tumbled out of the house.
"Gulliver, I think," Jane said thoughtfully, before a giggle broke out on her face. "Why is it that adventurers are always male?"
"That's only in the Aboveground, lass," Tarrant said. "Here they can be either."
"Like Alice," one of the Pawns put in. "She's probably the most famous adventuress we've got."
"Who is this Gulliver?" Tarrant asked hastily, not wanting to dwell on His Alice just now.
Jane dove headlong into the story of Gulliver's travels as they began their journey, Mally quite happily perched on Tarrant's Hat. When she'd finished regaling them with that tale, so strange it could almost be said to be Underlandian in origin, Tarrant reciprocated by telling her Underlandian legends of swashbucklers and adventuring ladies. Griddlebones the feline pirate, the tale of Rismelda the famous Bat, even legends of the land that had sunk into the sea. Legend had it that survivors of that cataclysm had been the ones to colonize Underland, and founded the Royal Dynasties of Underland, of which only the Adamasi- the White Royals of Marmoreal- remained. One tale, that of the love of the mortal Beren and the elf princess Luthien, charmed Jane so much that she declared she was trying Luthien's name on for size for a while.
The way they were taking went straight through the Tulgey Wood. Jane had thought that the wood would seem lighter and not as menacing during the daytime; she was proven wrong. Hardly any sunlight penetrated the forest canopy, and what little light there was seemed tinged blue, instead of green as she would have expected. The trees were just as gnarled and twisted, and she was glad she was no longer traveling alone. Her companions seemed to know their way through the forest perfectly well, gloom or no gloom, and Jane was happy to follow their lead.
"What is the rest of Wonderland like?" Jane asked curiously. "I've only seen the garden and the wood."
With an indulgent smile at Jane's willful misuse of his homeland's name- so very much like His Alice!- Tarrant described the layout to her, including bits of history about the lands and their people. As he spoke, Jane listened, amazed; she hadn't realized just how big Underland was, or how full to bursting with life it was. And this was just a portion of Underland; there were other countries across the Sea, which no one in the traveling party had ever been to. Would she ever have the opportunity to travel to every country in Underland, she wondered?
There was the Crimson Sea, which sounded so menacing and forbidding but was actually quite beautiful and smelled of roses. In past years, the sea had run red with the blood of those the Bloody Big Head had beheaded, but when Mirana regained her crown, one of her first acts had been to restore the Sea. There were numerous villages along the edge of the sea, some for fishing, others for trading with lands beyond the Sea. They were rough people, but unfailingly loyal to the White Queen, who had restored their livelihood to them.
Most of those sea villages were in the kingdom of Crims; from what Jane understood, most of Crims' wealth had come from fishing and sea trade, although there was also money to be made from the lumber that came from the southern forest. Apart from the sea and the woods, most of Crims lay barren, having been laid to waste in the years of Iracebeth's rule. The magic had been steadily eking out of the ground since the last Red Queen took the crown, leading to the death of the kingdom. But, the Pawns informed Jane, it was the High Queen's plan to crown the Azure Princess the next Queen of Crims, and upon her Queenmaking the Princess would be gifted with the resources to restore the kingdom to glory.
The western kingdom of Witzend, which had once been ruled by the Blue Queen and Sapphire King from the Cerulean Castle, held particular interest for Jane, seeing as she was attempting to find the Blue Royals' daughter. The land had a very short history as a unified kingdom; for most of Underland's history Witzend had existed as a loosely allied group of city-states. The largest holdings in Witzend had been the Hightopp lands of Iplam. As a matter of fact, the only dynasty that had ever ruled Witzend as a unified kingdom had been the Blue Royals, and even they had only reigned for seven years or so before being obliterated. Since the disappearance of the entire Blue Royal family, Mirana had been holding the throne in trust. If the Blues couldn't be reunited, Mirana would place her second-eldest daughter Aurora upon the throne. Not for the first time, Jane wondered what had happened to the Blue Royals, and why Alice, as the High Queen's Champion, hadn't been there to stop it.
About the Outlands, Tarrant said nothing but the name and the fact that it was no place for a bonny lass like herself. The Pawns added that the Outlands were where the exiled were banished to, and that other breeds of creatures lived out there- creatures who might once have been related to Underlandian Animals, but who had been twisted and become evil. When Tarrant rode ahead to take his turn as scout, one of the Pawns whispered to Jane that Tarrant had gone into the Outlands alone in a desperate attempt to find the Azure Princess, back when she'd first disappeared. What adventures or calamities had occurred to him there, no one knew, but upon his return he had announced that there was no use in searching for the Princess any longer; they would have to wait for her to return to them.
There was the southern kingdom of Snud, famed mostly for its superior animal husbandry. There had once been a healthy trade between Witzend and Snud; the artisans would take Snudian animal pelts and turn them into cloth and leather, and in return the Snudians would buy Witzend's luxury items. The trade had expanded exponentially after the Blue Queen was crowned, Tarrant had said. When the Blue Royals had disappeared, fortunes had been lost. King Shepard and Queen Lamia, the Russet Royals, had been trying to restore their kingdom, but while trade foundered they were fighting a losing battle.
The eastern kingdom of Queast was the agricultural hub of Underland. While of course every region had their own farms and specialty crops, it was widely acknowledged that the finest foodstuffs came from Queast. Oddly enough, Queast was also the home of Underland's finest soldiers; the backbone of Underland's armies came from this region. Queast, like Witzend, had no real history of kingship; unlike Witzend, the Queastians had refused to crown a single ruler. Queast was divided into five regions, and the leaders of the regions- known as Sharafs- would meet once a month to settle disputes and make decisions.
And finally, Marmoreal, seat of the White Royals, the Adamasai. The Pawns took over the talking here, almost bursting with pride as they described the Palace to an enchanted Jane. Marmoreal was the cultural center of Underland, bursting with museums, theatre, art, music, and everything beautiful. All of the best artists and craftsmen came to Marmoreal eventually, to learn at the feet of the masters and to produce works of art for their beautiful and gracious High Queen. Someday, the White Princess Lily Palladia would take over for Mirana, ruling in her stead as Queen.
Jane was utterly captivated by the descriptions of the wonders of her Wonderland. How she wished she had the time to explore it all for herself! Well, perhaps after she'd delivered the Azure Princess to her family, she would be allowed to undertake that particular quest. Just how she was supposed to find the Princess… well, she had plenty of time to figure that out.
When they had ceased their stories, Jane was informed that it was her turn to describe the Aboveground. She was quick to protest that she had only left England once, and that was as a young girl with her foster family, to join her foster father for a time in India. However, Tarrant could not be swayed; it had been too long since he had heard His Alice's stories of her home world.
So, with a quick change of her name to Scheherazade, Jane took her turn at storytelling. She told them of pastoral, straightlaced England, of the somber, gray Atlantic Ocean. She told them of the exotic, heady India, with its teas and its colorful fabrics. She told them about the places she had always wanted to visit- the rolling green hills of Ireland, the vast deserts of Egypt, the Turkish bazaars, the refined, cultured beauty of Japan. She told them about English balls, demonstrating dances like the dreaded quadrille and the lovely waltz, and the beautiful music of the Classics, the Baroques, the Romantics. She told them about her favorite author, Oscar Wilde, about her heroines Empress Sisi and Queen Victoria, of the beautiful romance between Victoria and Prince Albert.
She was still talking as they walked into a dark, seared clearing, where the sky was split between day and night [despite the fact that the sun had steadily been setting and she was sure it was around suppertime], and then the words- and her very breath- were stolen from her. The clearing was the sight of utter devastation. Charred, falling-down remains and scorched earth were all that remained of what once must have been a beautiful clearing.
"Welcome tae Hightopp Brae, mah quine," Tarrant growled in his Outlandish brogue, his eyes growing topaz with remembered anger and pain.
A pain such as Jane had never known before in her life crushed her heart and grew in her chest, threatening to rip her apart. She took in the utter devastation with wide eyes, each new site ripping a new wound in her heart. She glanced up at Tarrant, seeing the same pain [only magnified a thousandfold] reflected back at her.
"Oh, Tarrant," she whispered. "It's so horrible."
He turned away from her brusquely, dark black circles growing around his eyes as Outlandish began pouring from his lips. Recognizing the impending spell of Madness, Mally hopped off Tarrant's Hat to rest on Thackery's head, yanking on one of his ears.
"Go on an' find the Princess," Mally said to Jane. "We'll stay 'ere with the 'atta."
Nodding numbly, Jane took her first stumbling, halting steps into the midst of the site where the Hightopp clan had been destroyed. Not a single structure had been left standing; everywhere she looked was utter ruin. With a sigh that seemed to come from her very toes, she sank onto the ground, staring unseeing over the remains. She felt the loss of this place, and it didn't matter that she had never met the Hightopps, never seen this field when it was beautiful. And it had been beautiful, of that she was certain. The trees had been an explosion of blossoms and leaves and fruits, flowers had dotted the grass with soft splotches of color, the air had been sweetly perfumed and spiced with laughter. Children had run through the field chasing bread-and-butterflies, while the young ladies and dashing bucks had chased each other for entirely different reasons while the adults traded wares and skills and gossip. She could see it all as if it were happening right before her eyes. And it felt… it felt like family. The shades of the Hightopps who had been massacred here whispered to her, singing melodies in her ears.
No, wait… she really was hearing a melody. A low humming, as if the earth itself were singing to her. She closed her eyes, to better hear the music. It sang her a lullaby, a welcoming, a song of protection and love. The song belonged to the land… the music was the land. They were inescapably bound, and by hearing the music, she was bound to the land, and always would be. Drawing a deep breath and keeping her eyes closed, she began to hum along with the music, her fingers moving on the ground as if playing the piano. She listened to the music changing, fascinated as it looped back on itself, endlessly repeating but never sounding the same.
At the edge of the clearing, Tarrant's head shot up. Mally's attempts to bring him back to himself, Thackery's nervous twitching… all faded into insignificance as he heard Jane humming. He stood without realizing that he was moving, walking towards her, each step leaving him with the fear that he was about to shatter into a million pieces. His eyes were fixated on her, his ears unable to believe what he was hearing.
The music… that beautiful music… how could she hear the music?
She shouldn't have been able to hear it. Even if she was the destined Champion, no one but a Hightopp could hear the music of this hill…
And then it hit him.
No, it couldn't be. There was no way… It was mad… crazy… Impossible!
Sometimes I believe in six Impossible Things before breakfast…
He shook his head, trying to shake the Thought loose. It was too much, he couldn't face the Possibility right now. Right now, he had to focus on surviving the night here, and then getting Jane to Marmoreal as quickly as possible. Perhaps, once they were there, then he could focus on the Thought that was still trying to wiggle into the forefront of his consciousness despite how fiercely he was trying to keep it locked away. Then he would be free to look at it carefully, as he might look at raw materials, and maybe then he could slowly piece the parts together until he had a full hat. Until then, the Truth- hush, Thought, you aren't the Truth and that's that!- had to remain in his mind, there to torture him with the Knowledge of it.
"Lassie?" he croaked.
Jane turned, looking at him over her shoulder. He swallowed to see that there were tears in her eyes.
"I don't much feel like Scheherazade anymore," she sniffed.
"Oh? Who're you now?" he asked warily.
"Ophelia, I think. So much sadness, everything gone…" She shook her head. "Though with this music, I suppose I should feel more like someone's beloved, fair lady love. It's so beautiful," she whispered, her voice thick with the tears that hadn't yet made it to her eyes.
"It's the Music of the Hightopps," he forced the words out around the frog in his throat.
"How?" she asked.
He sighed, sinking onto the ground beside her, resting his arms on his knees and bowing his head. For a moment they just sat there, lost in the music, while he chased after his Thoughts. Ironic, really; once upon a time he had hoped to bring his wee little Princess here, to tell her the stories of his home and his family. And now he was going to tell them to an Aboveground girl, and not even his Above girl. And yet, if Jane could truly hear the Music, she had every right to know the story he had been saving for the Princess.
Oh blast, there went the Thought again… Quiet, you!
"There was a kingdom, over the Crimson Sea," he began softly, as much to quiet his mind as to inform Jane. "A kingdom so beautiful and advanced that it made Marmoreal look like a village of straw huts. They had… your Above people would call it a type of magic… woven into the land, the air, the water. It gave them strength, drew them together, blessed their endeavors. The kingdom was lost beneath the sea, but some managed to escape, including one of the High Princes of that land. He and his people came to Underland and took it for their own. And in gratitude to the man who had saved his life, King Devi gave this land to Corianth Hightopp and his family, to be theirs in perpetuity. The music you're hearing… it's… it's the magic of the Hightopps. It's the magic that protects this land, that was… that was supposed to protect…"
A violent sob shook Jane's shoulders as she bowed her head and cried again. Tarrant, his eyes the most colorless gray, looked out over the land, wishing he could hate the music spell that hadn't been strong enough to protect his family, but unable to hate it because he loved it so.
"Not all of the Hightopps lived here all at once," he continued after a moment. "There were too many of us. We started to migrate all over Witzend, and then all of Underland, offered our services to the Royal Families. Powerful services they were, too." He paused for a moment, one burned finger trailing in the charred earth. "Do you know why it's so important for a Royal to have a Hatter?"
Mutely, Jane shook her head, blinking back more tears. Tarrant nodded, staring down at the earth as he drew a painful breath.
"What does a hat do?" he asked her.
"It… sits on a person's head," Jane said slowly.
"Exactly," Tarrant said. "It sits on a person's head… it protects their head. Protects their mind. A perfectly made hat reminds the wearer of who they truly are, helps them stay true to themselves." He paused a moment to let that sink in. "A Royal Hatter, if they make their hats properly, protects the mind of their sovereign. Without a Hatter, the Royal will go just as Mad as everyone else."
There was silence for a long moment as Jane processed that information. He looked around, tilting his head as he listened to the music.
"Anyways… We didn't all live here. But for certain occasions, every Hightopp in Underland would gather here to celebrate, to… to be together. Leaving the Hill allowed us to spread our wares all over Underland, brought our clan fame and fortune. But at a high price. The further we went from the Hill, the farther we were from the music. Not hearing the music gradually weakened us, and weakened the magic that protected the land in the first place."
"Horunvendush Day?" Jane breathed.
Tarrant bowed his head. "We were going to replenish the magic, and our strength. The laird of the clan has the power to start singing the music, and then every Hightopp joins in. That was… it was my athair, Wendym. Da was the laird at the time, and one of the greatest the clan had ever seen. He and my mam Silyna had just opened the ceremonies. There was dancing, juggling, merrymaking. We were all supposed to sing… And instead…"
He sighed, wishing he couldn't remember the purple lightning of the Jabberwocky, the utter devastation the monster had unleashed. How he wished that he could forget the looks on his family's faces before they were vaporized before his very eyes as he chose to save Mirana over saving them.
"What you're hearing, it's just an echo. The music can never be replenished again," he finished dully.
"Why not?" Jane asked. "There's still one Hightopp left, and if you were the son of the laird… that means you're the laird now."
Tarrant shook his head. "It's not enough. You need at least two Hightopps, male and female. If the Azure Princess were here…"
Jane stared as that sank in. "The Azure Princess is your daughter, isn't she?"
Tarrant bowed his head, and Truth settled heavily over them. Jane stared at Tarrant as it became clear. That was why he was so very devoted to the Princess' memory, why he had protected her so carefully and suffered so fiercely with her loss. The others were mourning the loss of a princess, the loss of their hopes for Underland. Tarrant was mourning the loss of his beloved child.
Jane swallowed hard, laying her head on his shoulder and wrapping her arms around his torso. "What is her name?" she asked softly.
There was a long moment of silence, and Jane doubted if Tarrant had even heard her. Or, if he had heard her, perhaps he wasn't going to answer. Then his head rose, and he looked her in the eye as he wrapped his arms around her protectively.
"Regina," he finally said. "Her name is Regina Miraget Hightopp."
"Regina," she repeated, tasting the name on her tongue. "I'm going to find her, Tarrant. I promise."