Disclaimer: Don't own it. I know I know, the injustice pains me.

Thank you to everyone who's following this story (that includes everything, right?)! You're all amazing and I really appreciate the support.

Now, quick note. I realized recently that to get everything done that I want to do, so many ideas and directions, I will most likely not be able to follow the exact time-line of the film. So I want you all to forget for the time being the fact that upon Alice's arrival to the castle, two or three days later is was already Frabjous Day. I'm elongating the plot (by a little or a lot I'm not certain), starting with altering Bayard's entrance back in the last chapter, I will most likely start his journey this or the next chapter once again (though not so specifically implied), though even a few hours make a difference (in Underland that is). So I'd recommend you read his edited perspective if you haven't once more. I simply hope you'll all bare with me and my madness.

Now then, moving on from the long, tedious ramble, let's get back to the story.

Tarrant was seated on the single chair in the middle of the room, though it came as a relief, as the chains that bound on his wrists and ankles together were rather tiresome to hold. Though it did prove disadvantageous as well, as the fact that Tarrant was so weighed in, made it all the more difficult for him to escape, physically or otherwise. The Knave and he had never been friends- that much was certain. Stayne had treated Tarrant with an air of superiority that was expected. While Tarrant had been one of the many who had ridiculed him, as was his nature, though it was never with true meaning. It was simply amusing, and Stayne left himself exposed so easily to it. And however much he used to tease, they had a sort of spoken understanding of how far they could go to push one another. Things had changed however in their odd relationship. While they continued to push one another, Stayne was now much more self-assured and quick to act, and Tarrant, well, Tarrant now truly despised the giant. Ever since he had moved against his Queen and home.

Stayne was staring at the Hatter with utmost contempt and frustration etched into his expression.

The Hatter was looking rather unlike himself. They had taken away his hat, as per ordered by Stayne for it to be thrown out. The wretched thing was simply ridiculous. On top of it all, he felt that it made the Hatter look a little more vulnerable, sane even, to be less than he was. Perhaps more prone to answering questions than he might otherwise be inclined. He remembered only too well what antics that had ensued because of the article numerous times at court, specifically in the courtroom. And right now, he was in no mood for antics.

"Margaret is proving quite entertaining..." The Knave said casually as he situated himself off the wall and began circling the room .

Tarrant's brow furrowed. Margaret?

"Too bad she's so small, else she might prove even more so."

Ah Alice. The Hatter pondered, eyes widening, as he thought of how clever she was to have chosen such an elusive name, however much less interesting it was. So plain and ordinary. Margaret. No muchness whatsoever. Not like Alice. Nevertheless...

"I was curious as to whether you'd given thought as to Alice's whereabouts." Stayne continued. "The Queen is most anxious for a reunion."

"No, I'm afraid not. But if he comes my way, I'll be sure to forget. "

Stayne growled, and stood still before the Hatter. "Where is Alice?"

"Is Alice a he, or a she..."

"Where is Alice?"

"Really, the question should not be where is Alice, but rather where is she not."

"WHERE IS ALICE?"

"I've recently been thinking about M words..."

It was too much. With a frustrated growl, Stayne had pressed himself against the Hatter, right hand wrapped tightly around the scruff of his neck, grabbing onto the hair at the nape of his neck, while his other had his blade in hand, the side of which was pressed tightly against the column of his throat, fatally pressed to make him bleed should he so choose.

"I could snap your neck. I could take my blade and let your blood run dry. I could chock you until you see teacups. And no one would care. No one would dare to stop me, the Queen's most trusted guard." He smirked at that. "Now there's a thought, perhaps I could simply change my mind about giving Margaret to the Queen." Nothing the look of darkness that crept into his eyes at the mention of Margaret, the Knave pressed. "And see what mercy she'll bestow. A little doll to dress up and down, and then when she tires, as all girls do with their toys..." He left off there, watching with satisfaction the look of concern and tension that had etched into the Hatter's face.

It was gone however, almost as easily as it had come, and a familiar glint had returned to his eyes. "I wonder, has anyone every told you you're quite Mad when you're Menacing?" With his M word found, the Hatter began to cackle quite madly, the shaking of his shoulders causing movement from his chains, and subsequent discomfort for the Knave.

With a deep growl of frustration Stayne pushed himself off the Hatter and slammed his blade into the chair, causing one of the legs to break off and wobble, along with the Hatter who fell softly onto the ground. This seemed to only on the Hatter's hysterical laughter. Stayne watched the display but for a moment before exiting the room, just as the Hatter began to sing merrily with the sound of his chains providing a tune...

"The Queen of Hearts she made some tarts all on a summer's day;

The Knave of Hearts he stole the tarts and took them clean away."

The door slammed shut, though the song was still audible, in fact, it became louder. "Shut him up!" Barked Stayne to the guard. "And take him back to his cell..."

With that he turned, tension rolling as he made his way in quick strides towards the Queen's quarters.

Hours later found Stayne striding through the shadowed halls towards his quarters. The Queen had been rather direct in what form of entertainment she expected. She'd sat there, looking coy in her stance from the balcony in only her corset, high collar blouse and stockings, sans crown which only seemed to make her flaming red locks stick out all the more messily. Stayne had knelt down to kiss her hand before leaping up, grabbing her small form from the waist, raising her high up and devouring her mouth. From there on it had flowed rather easily.

He took out his frustrations of the day on her body. His anger with the Hatter for his insolence and nature, his frustration at not having found Alice, and the predicament her sudden return placed him in, his current unease with the Queen as her paranoia had begun anew, though no longer completely within his range of control or manipulation, the stress of her constant complaints and sudden pressure of the seemingly endless and occasionally impossible tasks she set on him, the confusion caused by Margaret as to what to do with her as well as her testing of his patience, and most importantly the frustration with himself, for allowing his anger and insecurities to get the best of him, in more ways than he felt comfortable with. For Stayne, it was a form of release along with duty. A way in which to express his thoughts and sentiments without meaning to, and to please her the only way that seemed safe.

Throughout the rut, the Queen didn't mind, in fact she liked it rough. She enjoyed the feel of his energy, his dark prowess as it consumed her completely. She temporarily forgot all the pain and sorrow, the occasional tug upon her conscious which would nag and make her question herself and those she'd lost, mostly by her hand. All her insecurities and fears, her utter loneliness simply disappeared. This was love. Her love, and nothing could be more wonderful. He was here, sharing his pains with her. Her own pain was a simple reminder that it was real, and she thrilled in dealing back his inflictions with her own, as she ran her sharp red nails down his back as she cried out in rapture repeatedly.

Afterwards, the Queen had lain happily on the bed, with Stayne along side her, dressed only from the waist down in the silk sheets. Iracbeth ran her hands up and down his arm, though Stayne remained still. However, she did not recent it. She was accustomed to his stillness, his nature, his hesitation to show affection. He looked coldly towards the window, seemingly almost as if in a trace, though truly he was taking advantage of the momentary peace of mind that was allotted whenever they had moments such as this. There was no need for words, nor actions, it was a simple companionship they took in their loneliness which neither dared dwell upon. Though it would be quick lived and sure to end, as it always did, for that moment there was no malice or hate, simply peace.

Then with practice, he detached himself and moved to dress. Once finished, he turned back to her for a moment, meeting her warmed eyes cooly as he stared at her for the first time since their love making. His onyx eye conveyed a certain warmness and appreciation, two things no one else had earned the right to know to date. It was in these moments that Iracbeth loved him most. Though it lasted for but a second before it was gone, and his devoid expression had returned. With that he knelt and took her hand in his, placing a kiss upon her knuckles. "I request permission to take leave, my lady."

Instead of her customary nod, Iracbeth answered with. "What if I ordered you to stay?"

"Then I would bound to comply." Stayne evenly intoned.

"Would you want to?"

"I want what my lady desires." Noting her smile, he continued. "Though I am in need of rest. I've only one more day to tackle the Hatter before you take him, as per your orders." He said smoothly.

The Queen eyes narrowed. "I also told you I would become unpleasant if you failed. The Hatter can wait." She snapped. "I need you elsewhere..."

And so, the Queen had gone off to describe her plans for another search party the next day, with Stayne at the lead, starting midday. The morning he would have to himself. And the evening... That was to be decided later on. Taking offense to the silent rejection of her suggestion, she'd dismissed him with a wave, which led him to the present where he was unlocking his rooms and disrobing for bed. Tired from the day's trials, he'd most assuredly drifted off into a restless sleep.

S~s~S~s~S

Mallymkin was grumbling as she traveled along the pipes towards the dungeons in search of the Hatter. While she herself had not been under suspicion, she was still confined to the castle until further notice for 'consorting with the enemy'. Meanwhile the real Alice, Underland's only hope, was out there somewhere, most likely lost, confused, in danger, whilst the Hatter was stuck inside the dungeon, all because of a little girl who claimed herself Alice. What hope was there now? At that moment she heard familiar voice whispers, and followed the sound along the bars into one of the cold cells. One was most definitely Tarrant, while the other was...

"Who is Tarrant? Is she the Alice?"

Bayard? That traitorous mongrel! How dare he show his face here? How dare the Hatter speak with him? The dormouse quickly unsheathed her blade.

"Yes, in fact, I know she is. She has to be."

"She is not!" Mallymkin cried out, stepping onto the outside of the cell, which was currently left unguarded, though she was certain they were nearby, playing cards. "She's the wrong Alice!" She elegantly swished her blade back and forth and pointed it towards the Hound. "And you! How dare you show your face around here? Have you any idea what you've done?"

At that moment, little Adel from the opposite cell whined and jumped against the bars, crying out to reach his father. Bayard turned his back to the two to meet with his wife and sooth his pups cries, the best he could through the narrow bars.

"Mally, that was very rude of you to interrupt! Bayard is no traitor. He simply frightened, but you'll see, it'll be alright now. We've been discussing this and have decided on the best course of action in order to proceed. Bayard will go to Marmoreal and inform the White Queen-"

"How can you trust him?"

Bayard who had returned to the scene, bowed his head lowly. "I know I have proved unfaithful in the past, but I am determined to do right for the sake of Underland. I was foolish, but I know better now. I will not fail. Not this time."

"Now that that's settled. The Hatter continued. "Mallymkin, you will-"

"I can do it! I'll go find the Queen!" Mallymkin interrupted, though both Hatter and Hound ignored her for obvious reasons.

"No, you are needed here. Meanwhile you will go find Alice in-"

"Yes, outside, in the woods, I can do that."

The Hatter's eyes showed a hint of irritation. "Not that Alice. The tiny one."

"You mean the wrong Alice."

The Hatter's eyes truly began to darken, and Mally grudgingly made an effort to stop her criticisms, however right she felt she was. All this effort for an impostor. Meanwhile the most important task, finding the Queen, was being left to a traitorous dog. Oh the disgrace.

"Fine, I find Alice, then what?"

"She should be in Stayne's quarters. You shall find out how she is, where she's being hidden exactly. Help her with what she needs. Ensure her safety. Be her guardian. But don't get caught. And make sure to find any exits with which we'll be able to free her when the moment arises."

"All this trouble, and you don't want her to escape?"

The Hatter frowned in thought. "No, not yet. The giant's too suspicious. If she simply disappeared, he'd start searching the castle for her, or come here, and the Queen would be bound to find out. No, no best she stay where she is. It's safer that way." Noticing the hesitation and doubt in her eyes, Tarrant emphasized. "You will do this Mally. If not for me, then for Underland, for your true Queen, you will do this."

Noting the look of determination on both the males' faces, but most importantly the chance to impress or please Tarrant whenever occasion arose, assured her inability to disagree and say 'No'. While simple enough, it simply hurt too much to even contemplate. Her loyalty to him was binding. Even if his affection and worry were directed at such an undeserving candidate. Mallymkun sighed heavily and nodded, in a solemn tone unusual for the mouse.

"I'll do it."

End note: Shout out and Happy Birthday to Nicomy43 who's birthday is/was today! Happy Birthday! She is an amazingly talented (much more so than moi) AIW fanfiction writer whom you should definitely check out if you haven't already.

P.S. Thank you all for reading! Please comment and review.