A/N; Yes! I actually managed to finish this chapter in time! It took until 4 in the morning and I'm dead from the neck up, but the chapter is done. I'm not sure how soon I'll be able to update, but hopefully it will be at least by next weekend ( cross your fingers that my campus techies will be on the ball with my laptop :P ). In the meantime, hope you enjoy chapter 7!
Disclaimer; I own nothing. Alice in Wonderland the novel belongs to Lewis Carroll, and the film belongs to Tim Burton.
Dreams of a Memory
Chapter 7
"Alice?"
It was purple….it was purple….it had tasted like mud mixed with bitters…..
"Alice. We're almost there."
Mud and bitters…dripping from the monster's tooth…but why was it bleeding? She had done something, she had---yes, its head, she had cut off its ghastly head with a sword. But…..why? And who----
"ALICE!"
She started abruptly, jerking about in her seat to turn and face Alexander, who had been prodded and needling unsuccessfully at her for almost a minute. He shook his head, his eyes rolling with impatience.
"My word, Ms. Kingsleigh, have you learned to sleep with your eyes open? What were you so engrossed with out the window just now?"
Alice opened her mouth, but only blinked silently at him. She looked back over her other shoulder at the vast, golden landscape of rural India, the fields and dunes rolling steadily past as the train jolted and rattled its way along the tracks. She shook herself and glanced back at Alexander.
"Nothing," she answered truthfully. "Nothing at all."
Her fellow apprentice sighed and sat down beside her, fidgeting with the cuffs of his jacket. "You certainly have a knack for intense concentration, Ms. Kingsleigh," he remarked, with only a touch of smiling platitude. "Or perhaps, for an intense lack thereof."
Alice offered him a polite shrug, but turned away without speaking to stare through the glass again. She worked fervently for a vain moment to recover the train of thought she'd been following, but…alas, in the blink of an eye it had succinctly vanished. She wasn't even sure of what it had been when she still had a grasp of it….it was nothing but the frail wisp of an idea that had floated randomly through her head, so bizarre and intriguing she couldn't help but pursue it……but then, it was probably nothing but nonsense anyhow. Purple blood, who'd ever heard of such a thing? And why in the world would she want to drink such a vile elixir?
Yes…it must have been nothing. Nothing but the memory of a dream.
Just a dream…..a dream….
…..a dream……
"Alice! Sir Alice! Wake up, lazy lobs!"
"Mmm--mmhuh? What?"
"Come on, now, can't throw a party while the guest of honor is buried to the chin in her bed. Up! Up!"
Alice blinked groggily into coherence, squinting and propping herself up onto her elbows, her hair falling in a mussed tangle over her shoulders. Mallymkun the Dormouse was standing on her stomach, her little arms folded impatiently and her foot tapping on the blanket.
"Hello," Alice muttered, still dazed from sleep. "What's going on?"
The Dormouse sighed, scampering down from the bed and climbing atop the nightstand nearby, where she struck a match as long as herself and lit the wick of a glass oil lamp. Warm, golden light flooded the dim room, and through the window beside her bed Alice could see the whole of a smoldering orange sunset. She must have been asleep for several hours.
"Her Majesty sent me to wake you," Mallymkun replied. "Don't you know that half of all Underland is packed downstairs in the ballroom, waiting just to catch a glimpse of you?"
Her words sent a sharp jolt shivering down Alice's spine and a hollow pit emptying in the middle of her stomach. She sat bolt upright, fully alert and on edge.
"Oh, no," she muttered, turning to put her feet on the floor. "Mally, it….it's not really as crowded as all that, is it?"
"Well," she answered, jumping back down from the table with her paw at the hilt of her sword, "Last I saw, there was a line to get in stretching through the front doors, out to the courtyard and all the way back to the gates. They ran out of seats at the banquet table and had to start bringing in bureaus and sundials for people to sit on."
The hollow pit grew steadily more hollow. Alice grimaced anxiously. "Oh, dear," she sighed.
"Now, come along, Sir Alice, you've got more courage than that. All the more reason for you to hurry and get yourself ready…take much longer, and they're going to start to get restless. I'll have to stick a few toes, things start to get too rough," the plucky Dormouse drew her sword from its sheath and brandished it once in the air to demonstrate her readiness.
"My word….do Underland balls always get so violent?" Alice asked with a mixture of curiosity and dread.
"Naaaaah, of course not. Though I did gut myself a lizard at the last one," Mallymkun declared proudly. "Blighter thought he'd get away with pinching the Queen's silver, but I showed him, I did. Just keep up on your toes, Sir Alice, and don't make 'em wait much longer, and you'll be fine. There's maids in the next room waiting with your clothes. Good luck!"
"Thanks," Alice murmured glumly, watching as the Dormouse scurried away through the cracked bedroom door. She heaved another long sigh, climbing out of bed and dragging her feet to the small room adjacent to her quarters. The dressing room was brightly lit with candles and strung with mirrors on every wall, so that her own face looked back at her a dozen times from every direction.
"Sir Alice!" the first of two maids looked up and beamed brightly upon her entering. They, like everyone else in Mirana's court, were clad in white from head to toe, smiling with their dark, expectant eyes. As she drew nearer, they lifted a dress up between them. "The Queen sent this for you personally, from her own closet," the second maid smiled. Alice's lips parted in awe at the sleek, beautiful gown…a sleeveless, high-waisted ghost of ivory-colored silk with a long, trailing cape of sheer gossamer veil hanging down from the shoulders.
"But it's much too lovely," Alice protested, running the smoother-than-water silk between her fingers. "I'd feel so out of place. Can't I wear what I've got on now?"
The maids glanced distastefully at Mary Ann's clothes, wrinkled and disheveled from their long and trying day, then at each other, their faces falling. "Oh, but Sir Alice, the Queen picked it out for you herself….it's just perfect for the occasion, and she'd be so disappointed if you didn't---"
"Alright, alright," Alice conceded, shrugging with exasperation. Knowing Mirana as she did, she was quite certain that she wouldn't have been disappointed if Alice had arrived downstairs wearing the set of sheets from her bed….but she was too nervous to bother arguing about it. Instead, she stood patiently atop a footstool with her arms spread out wide as the maids gleefully dressed her, pulling down Mary Ann's blue dress and stockings and tossing them over a chair without looking at them. As awkward and overdressed as she felt in the luxurious gown, however, Alice did have to admit---as the long, elegant garment slipped seamlessly over her shoulders and fell tumbling down past her feet---that never in her life had she worn anything so wonderfully soft. After dressing her and shoving her feet into a pair of satin slippers, the maids pushed her down in front of a vanity and began combing vigorously through her hair, yanking her head this way and that and ignoring her sharp gasps of discomfort.
"Is this….necessary?" Alice begged, wincing as the ivory teeth of the comb wrenched through a particularly stubborn knot. The two maids ignored her, instead chattering excitedly to each other as they continually changed places, trading off brushes and hairpins and powder puffs.
"I think pearls would best suit her shade," the first speculated, lifting a long string of them from a jewelry box. "What do you think?"
"No, no, it's far too early in the season for pearls. Diamond tipped hairpins, that's the thing."
"Diamonds, are you mad? They'll draw all attention away from the dress!"
Alice sighed as they argued back and forth for a moment before finally settling on white cornflowers. After what seemed like ages, they at last stood back and beamed down at her, clasping their hands in excitement.
"Finally!" Alice grumbled. "Now can I go?"
"Oh, yes, yes, you can look," they squealed, seizing her by the shoulders and spinning her around to face the mirror.
"That's not what I----" but Alice stopped as her face came into view in the looking glass, the soft light of the candles illuminating her image with a pale, golden glow. She blinked in disbelief at her own reflection, slowly lifting a hand and running her fingertips across her cheek. The maids squealed gleefully behind her.
"See, see, I knew she would love it!"
Alice didn't look like herself. Not at all. They had pulled her hair away from her face, curling it meticulously into a blonde waterfall down her back, and braiding dozens of tiny white flower buds in sweeping loops that met together in a knot at the back of her head. The neck of the dress, which was swooped down lower than any dress she would have worn back home, elongated her neck and made her feel years older than she was. They had powdered her skin until it glowed like the moon, darkened her eyes into smoldering embers, and painted her mouth so heavily that it sat there like a glistening, plum colored bow stuck to her face. Alice blinked, her colored lips parting softly.
"You're stunning," the maids insisted. "Simply ravishing, like a real lady of the court!"
Lady.
Alice only stared, her eyes narrowing faintly. "Thank you," she said mechanically. "Now, please….could you give me a moment?"
The two women clucked a few more giggling compliments to her, but obediently let themselves out and left Alice alone in the mirrored room. For a moment longer, she sat motionless before the vanity, staring at the strange face in front of her. She tapped herself on the nose, pulled back her lip with her fingers and bared her teeth, but no matter what she did, she couldn't shake the strange disconnection she felt with the image in the looking glass, as if she were watching an entirely different person simply mimic her own movements.
She looked…..old.
She looked like a lady.
Something about it just wasn't right.
Without warning, she suddenly heard the Hatter's voice, echoing in a memory at the back of her mind.
"I always thought that blue suited you most favorably."
Alice narrowed her eyes.
Jumping to her feet, she marched across the little mirrored room, seized a towel sitting on a marble-topped wash basin, dunked it in the water and began vigorously scrubbing at her face. She rubbed and rubbed until her skin was nearly raw, but she didn't stop until every trace of the make-up was gone from her mouth and her eyes. The white towel was a mess of black and burgundy when she threw it down. She then lifted both hands and attacked her hair, scuffing it wildly and raking her fingers through the fussy braids, shaking her head like a dog until every tendril had fallen loose. When she finally stopped, she was flushed and out of breath, her hair loose and curling in all directions with a few of the white flowers still clinging desperately to her locks. Nodded her head firmly in approval at the now familiar, bedraggled looking girl in the mirror, she marched proudly back into her bedroom.
"A corset is like a codfish," she muttered to herself as she crossed her chambers and approached a folding screen stretched over a collection of hat stands, just tall enough to peep over the top. A sharp grinning spreading on her unpainted mouth, Alice threw the screen aside and put her hands on her hips, surveying the little grove of hat trees and thinking carefully before finally making a selection and ramming it down over her head.
"See if I'm going tobe a lady," she swore beneath her breath.
Alice could hear the sounds of the gathering crowds long before she reached the ballroom. For a long, anxious moment, she lingered at the top of the spiral staircase that would lead her down into the enormous hall. She pressed her back against the smooth, cool marble wall, her eyes closed and her heart thudding. The noises were everywhere---voices talking, shouting, babbling, laughing, singing, footsteps, hands clapping, animals squawking and whinnying and growling---the ruckus echoed in the corridors and resonated through every room of the palace. Indeed, the party had spread far beyond the ballroom, guests of all kinds filtering through the gardens, the courtyard, and everywhere else….she was sure it was only a matter of time before someone discovered her hiding at the top of the stairs.
Alice took a deep, slow breath. Don't be nervous, she commanded herself. It's just a party.
Bracing herself, she straightened up, pulled the midnight blue top hat Tarrant had given her further over her brow, and started down the steps.
After three winding turns of shadowy staircase, all at once it came into view….Alice's jaw dropped of its own accord as she stepped into the light, her senses each bombarded simultaneously with the wondrous sea of sights and sounds. The ballroom was a vast, sprawling room of the brightest glimmering stone and marble, circled all around by enormous statues of white knight, horse head chess pieces. The floors and walls glowed a golden off-white in the light of a hundred or more torches placed all around the vast perimeter, and festive strings of lighted paper globes, each filled with handfuls of floating sparks that Alice took to be fireflies, hung suspended between tall poles. Down the center of the room was a narrow banquet table perhaps an hundred feet long, laden with cascading fountains of wine, towers of fruit, and glistening tureens filled with all sorts of fantastical dishes Alice had never seen before. And the Dormouse hadn't been joking---every chair at the table was full, and as a result, all around it, as well as pushed here and there against the walls, were all sorts of odd bits of furniture that had been dragged in from other parts of the castle as makeshift seating. There were ladies in billowing gowns perched on dressers and bureaus, three or more court nobles sharing space atop seven foot armoires and wardrobes, people on steamer trunks, people on stone sun dials pulled in from the gardens, and interspersed among them a veritable menagerie of creatures; rabbits, foxes, bears, lizards, turtles, dogs, cats, pigs, deer, horses, an endless rabble of mice, voles, moles and weasels, and of course every sort of bird Alice could think of, the air positively thick with them as they swooped and flew back and forth above the crowd. The ballroom was filled to bursting….there were only a handful of spaces where one could make out the white of the marble floor, and there the people were dancing in merry waltzes back and forth with one another. From some unseen place, a soft, cheerful music was emanating throughout the hall. As Alice surveyed the grand spectacle before her, her courage buckled and the flutter of butterflies in her stomach was so great it nearly dizzied her. Timidly, she retreated a few steps up the staircase.
Perhaps if she slipped out to the garden, no one would….
"There! There she is!"
To her horror, Alice heard a voice cry out loudly and a gasping hush of silence immediately filled the ballroom. Every single head swiveled to point in her direction, the party staring at her en masse. A hot blush of heat bloomed over her face and neck as she felt the press of a thousand eyes all over her. Just as she was contemplating turning and making a mad dash back up to her room, the sea of guests suddenly parted, and Mirana floated out into the open, tip-toeing straight to the foot of the staircase with her fingers aloft. The voluminous white skirt of her dress drifted around her like a cloud, and her silver crown gleamed in the torchlight. She caught Alice's gaze, looked her once up and down, her eyes lingering a moment on her tussled hair and her tall hat….and smiled. Alice smiled weakly back, the smallest fraction of her courage returning.
"Underland," the White Queen announced, her delicate voice lifting high and filling the room with airy music, "May I present, your Champion…..Sir Alice the Great, of Upperland!"
The room instantly exploded into deafening cheering and applause. Mirana warmly extended her hand, and Alice accepted it gratefully, letting herself be led down the stairs and into the sea of eager, wide-eyed faces. The moment she set foot on the ballroom floor, the crowds inundated around her. Everywhere she looked, faces and hands and wings and paws all reached out toward her, a thousand voices talking at once, each clamoring for the closest glimpse of her. They brushed her arms, touched her hair, tugged at the skirt and cape of her dress….she could make out only the smallest bits of what they were saying as they called her name over and over, a veritable melee of unbridled excitement.
"Gently now, gently, away with you all!" the White Queen chanted, though not unkindly, waving her hands and shooing the crowds back. "Give our poor Champion some air!"
The guests obediently thinned out, but they continued whispering and squealing and jostling amongst themselves. At long last, the disembodied music started up again, and the party returned to its normal gaiety of talk and dancing.
"You must forgive them," Mirana said as she took her by the arm and they walked side by side toward the great banquet table. "Tales of your valor in the slaying of the Jabberwocky and toppling of my sister's regime have taken root like dandelions all across Underland….it's no wonder there was such a large turnout. You've become one of the peoples' most beloved heroes, Sir Alice."
Alice blushed a bright, glowing pink, and the butterflies inside her heightened their fluttering. "I….didn't realize," she murmured bashfully. All around her people were watching, pointing to her and smiling and then whispering fervently to their neighbors.
"No need to be shy, dear," Mirana said soothingly, patting her on the arm. "You've every right to be a bit overwhelmed. Ah…here we are! Your rightful place at the head of the banquet."
Alice looked up and felt as if a great stone had dropped into her stomach; they were standing at the very end of the enormous, sprawling banquet table, where a tall chair was waiting empty for her. Every head seated all the way down the table was turned to look at her, watching eagerly. Her grip tightened on the White Queen's arm, retreating to almost hide behind her.
"Oh, no, no, no," she whispered, shaking. "I can't sit there with all those people watching me, I simply can't!"
"But my dear, you must be famished," Mirana protested. "Wouldn't you like some sustenance?"
"Well….I…." Alice stammered, looking down. Truthfully, she was starving, her stomach growling and complaining even as they spoke….but she would rather go hide in a corner and chew on her shoes than have to sit at that table with hundreds and hundreds of eyes watching her eat. Mirana saw the consternation in her face and smiled understandingly.
"Here," she said, reaching out and plucking from the side of a turkey what looked like a long, roasted kebab of strange little vegetables. She handed it to Alice with a small nod. "Go and enjoy the party. The crowds will calm down soon enough."
Alice gave her a faint, grateful smile and took the kebab in her hands, attacking it with her teeth and devouring the vegetables one by one. They were something like little potatoes and mushrooms, unlike any she'd ever tasted, but thoroughly delicious. She picked her way aimlessly through the crowd, drinking everything in with her eyes and nibbling until she had licked the wooden spear clean.
"Alice! Yoo-hoo, Alice!"
She glanced up in the direction of the voice, turning all around, but no one was looking at her.
There was a little tug at the bottom of her dress, and she looked down. It was the White Rabbit, dressed in his finest clothes and sporting a large glistening monocle over one pink little eye.
"McTwisp," she smiled, crouching down beside him. "I'm happy to see you again."
"I'm happy to see that you've finally found your memory again," the rabbit retorted.
Alice winced. "Yes. I'm terribly sorry about that. You should know that I would never, ever forget you on purpose. I just don't know what---"
McTwisp waved her away with one paw. "Oh, I'm only kidding you. All in the past, Sir Alice, all in the past."
She smiled. "I saw Mallymkun earlier."
The White Rabbit sighed. "Yes, I'm sure she and Thackery are making mischief about here someplace. Uncivilized ruffians, the both of them. It can grow dreadfully tiresome to always be in the company of so many mad people."
Mad. Alice's ears perked up at the word, and she had just opened her mouth to speak when suddenly there was a great crash of commotion coming from the banquet table, and she and McTwisp quickly looked up to see what it was. Ladies and gentlemen seated nearby at the table were crying out in alarm and jostling to get out of the way as plates and cutlery went flying all around them, crashing into silver tureens and shattering on the floor. The March Hare was standing on the table, crouched down beside a great pyramid of oranges, laughing intermittently to himself and flinging things in every direction. Mallymkun was dancing anxiously beside him on the table, pulling at the ends of his waistcoat.
"See, now, Hare, behave yourself, or I'll have no choice but to----Thackery, are you listening to me??"
The White Rabbit groaned loudly and put his paw over his face. "They never learn," he muttered crossly. "Forgive me Sir Alice, I really ought to go and---"
"Wait!" she interrupted. "I was going to ask you something….you haven't seen the Hatter, have you….? McTwisp?"
But it was too late….he had already set off toward the table, shouting irately to Mallymkun and the March Hare, who had now got hold of a large broiled fish and was swinging it round by the tail as the onlookers alternately laughed and cried out, ducking to let apples and handfuls of strawberries sail over their heads. Alice straightened up, biting her lip in frustration. She turned in a circle, searching the crowd with her eyes, but nowhere could she spot the rise of a worn brown top hat, or the flash of a fiery orange shock of hair. Where was he? She hadn't seen him since he'd run away from her that afternoon. Was he still feeling alright?
"I'll see you tonight?" she had asked.
"As long as you keep your eyes open," he'd answered.
As long as I keep my eyes open….
"Well, well…if it isn't our prodigal child, come to her senses at last."
Alice at once recognized the sleek, velvety voice abruptly murmuring in her ear. A sly smile crossed her face, and she turned her eyes to peer over her right shoulder.
"Hello again, Chess."
The floating sliver of teeth chuckled softly, and in one go the furry blue body of the Cheshire Cat materialized before her. He grinned broadly, the vertical pupils of his aqua-colored eyes shrinking and growing as he spoke.
"Finally remembered who you are, I see," he crooned. "Silly, loony little Alice, always losing her mind."
"I've not lost my mind," she replied defiantly, but smiling all the same. "And even if I had, better to be always losing my mind than losing my body."
"It'll do no good trying to insult me," Cheshire grinned, resting his chin in his paws and resting his paws in the air. "I'm quite above such childishness, you know." He rolled in a circle, drifting upside down as if to prove his point. Alice smirked.
"Yes, I ought to have known. But I am glad that you're here…I never got a chance to properly thank you for rescuing me from the ocean."
"Oh, tut tut. Don't give yourself any grand ideas. I was simply doing as the Oraculum instructed."
"Well, thank you, all the same. It was very decent of you."
He rolled his eyes, then, as if to change the subject, gestured to her with the end of his tail. "What a charming hat," he commented, circling once around her head and peering at it from all angles. "Now I wonder who might have given you that….."
At the mention of her hat, Alice's smile straightened at once into a serious line. "Chess," she asked hopefully, "You haven't seen the Hatter tonight, have you? He said he'd be here, but I can't seem to find him anywhere."
"Tarrant?" Cheshire asked, his eyes flaring brightly with recognition as he rolled back to look at her right side up. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I've just been to see him."
Alice's face lit up. "Where is he?"
"I had a nice chat with him, in fact. Good to see that the poor chap's feeling like his old mad self again," the Cheshire Cat went on, ignoring her question. "He was in a positively dreadful way for such a long while. Don't believe I'd ever seen him so glum. Of course, it may take some time for him to wind back up entirely, what with you forgetting him again and all…don't know if you noticed, but from what I can see it very nearly---"
"Chess," Alice snapped, pinning him with a harsh glare. "Where is he?"
"Goodness, no need to be rude," Cheshire muttered in mock offense. He evaporated into a wisp of blue smoke, then reappeared on her other side with his paw pointed in the direction of a large open doorway that led out of the ballroom and onto a veranda overlooking the castle gardens. "He was out there when I spoke to him a moment ago."
Alice crooked one side of her mouth into a wry smile. She reached up and scratched behind Cheshire's ear, catching him by surprise. "Thank you, Chess." Distracted for a moment by her caressing fingers, the cat's eyes lolled back and his grinned widened in satisfaction, his head leaning into her touch. Alice giggled, and Cheshire abruptly snapped out of it, blinking and pulling away in embarrassment which he quickly tried to conceal. He cleared his throat once, crossing his arms and looking away.
"Hmph. Nice to have you, as always, Sir Alice," he grumbled sarcastically, floating away toward the banquet table where McTwisp and Mallymkun were now fighting unsuccessfully to wrestle away from the March Hare a crystal punch bowl that he holding over his back like a turtle shell.
Not wasting another second, Alice lifted her skirts in her hands and set off at a brisk trot towards the door, carefully weaving her way through the mingling party guests. She breathed in deeply as she stepped out into the cool, sweet night air, the fresh breeze washing over her and seeming to dull the noises of the enormous party inside to a dim memory. A large, white stone veranda wrapped about the wall in either direction, a low wall and tall white pillars overlooking the lush gardens below. A few handfuls of guests were lingering about, enjoying the view with glasses of wine or puffing delicately at long-stemmed pipes. Alice looked wildly all about her, walking down the veranda and peering behind every pillar, until at long last, she spotted him. Her face spreading in a wide smile, she set off nearly at a run, her slippered feet tapping loudly at the stone floor.
The Hatter was sitting perched on top of the wall just beside one of the large columns, his feet drawn up and his hands holding tight to his ankles, his face almost hidden behind his knees. Alice drew near to him, slightly out of breath and beaming, her cheeks glowing with exertion.
"There you are!" she exalted happily.
The moment she spoke, Tarrant jerked his head up, starting terribly and uttering a sharp yelp of surprise. He jolted so greatly that Alice in turn also shouted, just as he went toppling backwards over the edge of the wall.
"Hatter!" she cried, rushing forward and grasping after him a fraction of an instant too late.
THHHSSSHUMP.
Alice leaned forward over the wall and looked down. The Hatter was lying sprawled on his back, half sinking into the leafy hedge just below the veranda wall. In spite of her few seconds of shock, Alice had to stifle a small laugh at the stunned, wide-eyed expression on his face.
"Oh, Hatter, I'm so sorry!" she called. "I didn't mean to frighten you! Are you alright?"
"Yes, yes, quite alright," he replied gruffly, reaching up and taking hold of the hand she extended to him. Puffing with effort, she helped to pull him back up over the wall, his shoes sliding clumsily as he climbed to his feet. "It wasn't your fault," he assured her as she helped him to straighten his coat and hat, brushing stray leaves from his chest and plucking a twig from his hair. "I've had a long standing feud with hedges. They refuse to address any of my grievances."
Alice only smiled at him, the last traces of her nerves finally disappearing at the sight of his face. She had only been away from him a few hours, and yet as silly as it seemed…she had already missed him. Straightening to his full height, the Hatter looked down at her and blinked suddenly, as if truly seeing her for the first time; his eyes traveled slowly down to her feet, then back up again, lingering for a moment on his own handiwork, the dark blue top hat. For one fleeting moment, he wore a queer, distant expression that Alice couldn't quite define.
"Hatter?" she asked, and he blinked again, shaking himself as if breaking from a trance. He smiled at last.
"Alice," he declared softly, picking up a single tendril of her hair between his thumb and forefinger and lifting it out to the side, then letting it fall again. "You're a dismal ragamuffin."
The words sent swells of warmth up through Alice's chest, and her eyes shone at him. "Thank you," she said quietly. It was exactly what she'd wanted to hear, and she hadn't even known it.
"Are you enjoying the festivity?" he asked.
"Yes…much more, now," she answered, smiling at him. "But I've been looking for you everywhere. What were you doing out here by yourself?"
The Hatter stammered a moment, his mouth working without words. "I…ah…I was just….er, coming out to look for something unconditionally motionless. Yes, too many things all twitching and moving about inside. Much too unsettling."
"I see," Alice murmured, narrowing her eyes inquisitively at him. There was a definite uneasiness about him, he was no good at hiding it.
They stood together in silence for a moment, looking out over the torch lit gardens. Nearby, a flock of lightning bugs that were lazily drifting over a large white rosebush were startled by a bat zooming haphazardly overhead, and they all fluttered quickly to hide inside the blossoms, making the white roses glow with pale illumination. Alice crooned softly in admiration and leaned over to rest her elbows on the stone wall for a closer look.
"Look at that!" she remarked, reaching out to touch the glowing edge of the rose with her fingertip. "I've never seen anything so lovely."
"Neither have I."
Alice froze. Something in the Hatter's voice---something soft and longing,a low, deep-throated sort of rumble she had never heard from him---made her turn back slowly to look at him with questioning eyes, and when she saw him, the very hairs at the back of her neck seemed to stand up on end. He was….staring at her. Not at her face, not into her eyes, not at any one part of her…simply just staring, as if seeing and not seeing her at the same time, his face turned so low that the brim of his hat hid his eyes. Alice felt her face growing suddenly warm, and she straightened up, uttering a small cough.
"Hatter? Something wrong?"
He jerked, looking quickly up at her, and the breath caught in her throat when she saw his eyes gleaming a bright, golden yellow for the fraction of a second, then quickly jolting back to green. He looked flustered and uneasy.
"Of course not," he answered, quickly schooling himself into a calm demeanor and turning away. "Of course not. Let's return to the party….I don't at all like the way those hedges are looking at me, now."
Nodding, but still watching him uncertainly, Alice took him by the arm and walked with him back into the bright ballroom. The March Hare had finally been subdued by McTwisp and a fox in a tailcoat, one of them on each side holding him into a chair. Mallymkun pushed a cup of tea in front of him, and he calmed down long enough to drink it. The Dormouse turned and caught sight of Alice and the Hatter, eagerly bounding down from the table and running towards them.
"Well, what have you two been up to?" she demanded, folding her arms. "Everyone's been asking after you, Alice. Poor form to disappear from your own party, isn't it?"
"Yes, but I've always been a great supporter of poor form," Alice answered, her face completely serious. Mallymkun eyed her a second longer, then broke into her delightful cackling.
"Good answer."
Alice cracked a smile.
"And you, Hatter," the Dormouse accused, scurrying forward and climbing nimbly up his side to stand on his shoulder. "No more of this dreadful sulking. Alice has come back, hasn't she? She's got her memory back, hasn't she? You've got no reason to be unhappy now. Show us a smile, show us our old Hatter!"
To Alice's great surprise, the Hatter's white face suddenly darkened with what she dared to believe was the faintest hint of a blush about his cheeks. He shot Mallymkun a scathing look.
"But just look at me, my mus musculus friend," he muttered through clenched teeth. "I'm already the absolute paragon of giddiness."
The Dormouse waved him off with her, laughing again. "He's changed since you been gone, Alice. He's gone shy on us."
But before the Hatter could make a reply, the atmosphere of the ballroom was broken suddenly by a loud, warbling musical note, sustained for one long moment high above the din of the party. When it trebled off, a great cheer erupted through the room, and all of the guests began hurriedly climbing to their feet and arranging themselves in pairs out on the floor. Alice looked all about her, her heart pounding faster with excitement as a steady, bouncing musical rhythm began to sound.
"What's happening?" she asked.
"It's a jig!" the Dormouse cried. "The Gumbundulus jig! Come now, Tarrant, you must show her how it's done." She snickered again, scaling back down his chest and onto the floor. Alice turned a mischievous grin in his direction.
"Yes, show me how it's done," she pestered him.
The Hatter looked about him thoughtfully at the gathering dance couples as the music picked up into full sway, the vibrant darting and humming of what sounded like hundreds of stringed instruments all singing in unison. With an aloof, faintly disdainful expression that was clearly concealing an overwhelming desire to do just as Mallymkun suggested, the Hatter calmly dusted his hands and began rolling up the cuffs of his sleeves. Alice couldn't stifle her short laughter.
"Hurry, hurry, they're starting!" she urged him, but giggling all the same when he bent down to tug pretentiously at his socks. He was deliberately stalling now, just to tease her. "Come on, come on!" she laughed, grabbing him by the shoulders and jostling him. He finally betrayed himself with a broad smile, straightening up and looking her in the eye.
"Well," he said, turning his head sharply to one side and cracking his neck. "It's no futterwacken, but….I suppose the Gumbundulus does have a certain perfunctory appeal."
"Go on then, show me how to dance it," she pressed. A bright gleam flashing across his eyes, the Hatter reached forward without warning her and took her wrists in his hands.
"Place your left swatter here," he instructed, moving her hand to cup around the back of his neck, "…and your right mitter, here," he moved her other hand to press, flat-palmed, on his chest, directly over his heart. The moment she felt his heartbeat throbbing beneath her fingers, Alice felt an unexpected little jolt of electric sensation rush through her. She look questioningly into his eyes, trying to ignore the rapid fluttering of her own heartbeat as she failed vainly to ignore his.
"This…this is how it's done?" she asked, her voice squeaking faintly.
"Yes, yes," the Hatter replied as if it were nothing. "And now, I take frick and frack here, and place them there," he held her waist with his left hand, "…and there," he gently lifted her chin, holding it lightly with the fingers of his right hand. Alice snorted in slightly nervous laughter…but looking around her, she saw that all of the other dancing couples were doing the same thing, holding each other in the awkward stance and twirling great circles on the dance floor in time with the music.
"Now, on the beat of 3 and one half---"
"Three and one half?" Alice repeated.
"Of course, silly, three and one half….now, just follow my lead, and do as my feet do. Here, there, a pair, and…."
At a loud, thrusting note of the music, the Hatter took off in a sweeping jump to the side, pulling Alice along after him. She drew a sharp breath, looking down past his hand to try and follow the swift, rhythmic steps of his tapping boots. Left, right, back and out, left, right, back and out….she stumbled along clumsily after the Hatter's graceful movements, struggling to find the right time.
"Oh," she sighed, laughing briefly with exasperation. "This is impossible!"
The Hatter simply gave her a penetrating look. "I'll pretend I didn't hear that," he smiled, only making her laugh again and fall even further out of rhythm.
"It's because you're trying to count my steps," he explained, laughing lightly himself. "Don't follow my toes, follow my heartbeat. Count it out, count it out."
Alice closed her eyes, willing herself not to blush, and felt for the pulse of his heart under her palm. It was quick and jumping, fluttering like a bird under her touch….slowly, gradually, she began to find her steps with the beats, and she found that the music was waltzing to match. After a moment, they were spinning and turning and jumping in perfect time with each other. Alice opened her eyes and grinned.
"You've got it, you've got it!" the Hatter cried happily, picking up the pace and twirling her faster. She yelped in surprise, then shouted with laughter as he suddenly dropped her into a low dip, the ends of her hair brushing the floor. He held her there for a ridiculously long moment, her hands clutching tight around his neck as she breathed heavily and looked this way and that. She noticed for the first time that the ceiling of the ballroom was covered with hundreds and hundreds of tiny dark shapes, and after another moment of watching she realized that they were bats, all hanging upside down by their feet. She then realized that each of them was holding a tiny violin, and that they were the source of the music that was filling the hall.
"I say!" she remarked in astonishment. "Are those bats, playing up there?"
"Well it wouldn't very well do to have a school of mackerel playing the song on the ceiling, would it?" the Hatter replied, still holding her up off the floor. "They'd fall down on top of everyone's heads. And besides, they haven't any fingers."
"But bats haven't any fingers either."
"Nonsense! They have two, one on each wing. That's more than enough for a talented musician."
"Alright, two is more than enough," Alice conceded, gasping and giggling as the blood began to rush to her head. "Now lift me up, lift me up!" The Hatter obediently swept her back to her feet, and they picked up in time with the beat again, jumping and stepping in perfect harmony. Alice suddenly realized that a great ring of spectators had been forming around them, watching and cheering them on. Soon they were the only couple left dancing, all of the other guests gathered in the circle and clapping in time with the music. Alice felt a stir of self-consciousness, and she lost a step.
"Don't worry about them," the Hatter whispered to her, and the way he said it made her turn swiftly to gaze into his eyes. "Not one of them is any more able to pluck a chicken with their toes than you are."
Looking deep into his wide, brightly flashing smile, Alice couldn't help but think to herself how remarkable it was that she understood exactly what he had meant by such an observation.
They danced and danced and danced, and just when Alice was beginning to feel that she couldn't dance another step for want of breath----and it didn't help that the Hatter kept deliberately making her laugh by moving his eyebrows up and down----the Gumbundulus jig finally came to an end, the bats and their violins fading off into silence. The crowd erupted with a round of applause, in which Alice and the Hatter joined. Stepping back from her, Tarrant removed his hat and bent forward in a deep, gracious bow. Beaming at him, Alice replied with a low curtsy.
"A perfunctory charm, indeed," the Hatter declared.
"Yes," Alice agreed. "But…" she leaned closer, the tips of their hats touching, as if concealing them in a secret space separate from the watching crowd, "…I think I shall always be partial to futterwacken."
Suddenly, a respectful hush fell over the party, and everyone looked up to see the White Queen standing at the edge of the circle, smiling graciously and clapping her hands slowly.
"I have always loved to watch you dance, Tarrant."
The crowd rippled with faint laughter and a fresh round of applause, as the Hatter made a flustered gesture and looked down at his feet. Alice put her hand on his shoulder, smiling.
"Don't worry about them," she said quietly, making him look up at her with a shy smile.
"And now, dear friends, all," the White Queen announced, raising her voice over the mild din of voices, "I believe it is time for us to----"
BBBBAAAMM!
"Your Majesty! Your MAJESTY!"
A simultaneous gasp sounded from the crowd as every head in the ballroom jerked to look suddenly in the direction of a pair of large double doors, which had just been burst unceremoniously open, sending the report of a deafening bang echoing through the room as they struck the walls, and in ran a passel of queer looking figures, all shouting desperately for the Queen. Among them were several men, an owl flying above them, and a pair of wise-looking badgers. Each was dressed in scholarly white robes with vestments of different colors. They were running together in a circle, carrying something hidden between them. Gasps and cries of astonishment rippled through the crowd as the guests parted to clear a path toward the Queen. The men and animals rushed up to her, puffing and out of breath.
Puzzled and brimming with curiosity, Alice leaned toward the Hatter. "Hatter…who are those people?" she asked, narrowing her eyes questioningly on the small party.
A few seconds passed, but she heard no answer.
"Hatter?" she repeated, turning to look at him.
Tarrant wasn't looking at her. He was standing rigid as a statue, his faze frozen in a blank, disbelieving stare, his eyes fixed unmoving on the handful of scholars and the object they cradled preciously between them. As Alice looked at him, his brow slowly narrowed, his eyes changing to a glaring yellow, then brilliant orange.
"Hatter? What is it? Who are they?"
He wouldn't look at her. He slowly shook his head. "No," he whispered. "Please….no…"
Alice bit her lip worriedly, looking back to where the group stood. What was going on?
"Magicians! Star-gazers! Please, calm yourselves," the White Queen raised her hands and spoke to them gently. "What is the matter?"
The scholars turned, nodded to each other, and placed the large object they carried between them down on the floor, and Alice saw that it was a scroll. Her eyes widened with recognition. One of the magicians knelt down, took one side of the scroll in his hands, and thrust it fervently forward, the whole of it unrolling out on the floor before their eyes. A great intake of breath rushed through the crowd, and everyone began talking at once.
"The Oraculum," a voice directly beside Alice's head whispered. She turned quickly to see Cheshire Cat hovering beside her, his face, for once, not marked with an ear to ear grin, but rather staring grimly down at the long, magical calendar spread across the floor.
The White Queen looked back at the scholars, her eyes suddenly sharp and penetrating.
"Then….it's happened?" she asked in a low voice.
The magicians nodded in unison, and the owl, who had perched itself on one of the men's shoulders, extended his long wing to point to the furthest spot on the long, long expanse of the Oraculum, where the last picture was marked in black ink, the lines and figures wavering gently back and forth.
"Yes," the owl said gravely. "The Oraculum has foretold another prophesy."
The voices in the ballroom intensified. Mirana quickly hurried to where the owl pointed, dropping down to her knees and scrutinizing the picture intently. The scholars moved to stand behind her, and Alice took a few cautious steps forward.
After studying the Oraculum for a full minute, the White Queen grew very still. Slowly, she lifted her head and looked back at the royal scholars, her darks eyes glistening with a foreboding light. Alice watched her with her heart in her mouth. Mirana caught her gaze and held it for one long, silent moment, during which her expression communicated nothing more than a faint glisten of regret. Slowly, the White Queen rose to her feet. She turned and whispered a few words to the scholars, who nodded in obedience and hurriedly rolled the Oraculum back up, removing it quickly and quietly from the ballroom. The guests were buzzing like bees, each asking the other question after question that none of them could answer. Finally, after closing her eyes for a moment, the White Queen lifted her head and raised her hands for silence.
"My friends….my noble subjects," she said, her voice soft and quiet, yet somehow loud enough to be heard throughout the entire hall, "I am afraid I have sad news to report."
A murmur rippled through the ballroom, and the Queen again motioned for quiet.
"But before I tell you of this prophesy, I want us to again remember how blessed each of us is….how blessed Underland is….to have once again been visited by our brave Champion, Alice….to have been delivered by Alice from the terrible reign of the Red Queen, to have been ushered into this great era of peace and tranquility that we know now."
Alice jumped at the mention of her name, looking timidly round her as the party began clapping uncertainly, cheering her again even while marred with apprehension at the White Queen's solemn tone. Slowly, her eyes filled with tenderness, Mirana approached Alice and touched her softly on the shoulders.
"Alice," she whispered gently, quietly enough so that no one else could hear. "It's…it's about you."
Alice stared back at her, her heart pounding in her chest and a cold sweat breaking in her palms. The tone of Mirana's voice filled her with an inexplicable dread.
"What is it?" she asked, her voice scarcely audible.
Mirana closed her eyes and turned her face down.
"The Oraculum has prophesied that you will leave Underland in exactly thirty-one days, when the moon waxes full and bright in the midnight sky. On that night, Alice Kingsleigh will leave Underland….never to return."
Alice froze.
The sweat stopped, and instead, a stiff, paralyzing chill seemed to spread throughout her body, rooting her to the spot.
Mirana lifted her hand to her mouth, all at once closer to crying than Alice had ever seen her. Sniffing once, the Queen turned away and hurried from the ballroom, disappearing up the winding staircase. A rush of worried voices immediately broke out from the crowd, and half a dozen ladies in waiting went running after her. The talking grew louder and louder, everyone bustling in a sway of panic and confusion, demanding to know what the Oraculum had predicted. Soon the hall was drowned in a din of frantic voices.
Alice didn't hear any of it.
She stood like a statue, staring straight ahead and seeing nothing, her arms hanging limp at her sides. Mirana's words were echoing over and over in her mind, like the ring of a church bell.
On that night, Alice Kingsleigh will leave Underland….never to return.
Never to return.
Never to return.
"Never to return?" Alice whispered.
"Alice? Alice, snap out of it!"
It was Cheshire, floating before her. He was watching her with worried eyes, strange-looking because of the deep frown that was so uncharacteristic to his visage.
She scarcely heard him. She stared straight past him as if in a trance.
Never to return.
And then, in the blink of an eye, all she could think of was him.
"Hatter," she said abruptly, spinning around to look where he had been standing.
He was gone.
"Hatter?" she called, turning in a circle and scanning the crowd with her eyes, but unable to spot him anywhere. "Hatter!"
Desperation rising swiftly in her chest, she took off at a run towards the door to the veranda, tossing her head wildly in search of him.
"Alice, wait! Where are you going?" Cheshire called after her. She didn't answer him.
Alice burst out onto the veranda and began quickly walking up and down it, looking behind every pillar, her heart beating faster and faster as she grew increasingly frantic.
"Hatter! Hatter! Hatter!"
She looked out over the garden, peering desperately into the semi-darkness, but she could see no trace of him anywhere.
"Hatter!"
Her voice echoed in the empty night, but there was no answer.
All at once, it was as if a wave of pent up emotions rolled over her, toppling her to ground, and Alice felt something give deep inside her as tears sprang to her eyes. Turning around, she leaned back against one of the stone pillars and slid slowly to the ground, curling up and hugging her knees to her chest. She bowed her head as the tears began to flow steadily, her shoulders shaking with her quiet gasps and sobs.
No….no…..
"On that night, Alice Kingsleigh will leave Underland, never to return."
No. No. She couldn't. She wouldn't. It wasn't right, it wasn't fair. She couldn't leave, she refused to leave……she didn't care what the Oraculum said. She wouldn't leave Underland forever.
She wouldn't leave him forever.
"Alice," a gentle voice spoke from above her.
Sniffling, she looked up to see Cheshire floating before her. He was wearing an expression of sadness and sympathy she would not have thought possible of him. She smeared her hand over her face, struggling in vain to dry her tears, but more continued to flow. Gently, Cheshire lifted the hat off her head and placed it on the ground beside her.
"Alice," he said softly, brushing a strand of hair aside with his paw. "Alice….I'm so sorry."
It was as much as she could do to look back at him and shake her head. A fresh wave of sobs came bursting out of her, and she slid her knees down and covered her face with her hands.
Suddenly, she felt a warm, soft weight resting in her lap, and blearily she looked down. Cheshire was lying across her legs, purring quietly as if to try and comfort her, rubbing gently against her stomach. Still gasping with her cries, Alice gratefully wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his long, soft fur, her crying muffled into his back. He purred and curled his tail around her arm.
They sat there together on the veranda for what felt like a long, long time.
Alice Kingsleigh will leave Underland….never to return.
Never to return.
Unbeknownst to everyone at that moment, deep into the dark twists and turns of the palace gardens, far away from the veranda and the lights and the crowds and Alice…..the Hatter sat beneath the cover of a cherry tree, his back against the trunk and the pale petals drifting slowly down around him, illuminated by the soft moonlight. His head was hung down low, his chin almost resting against his breast, his hat hiding his eyes from the world.
Mirana closed her eyes and turned her face down.
"The Oraculum has prophesied that you will leave Underland in exactly thirty-one days, when the moon waxes full and bright in the midnight sky. On that night, Alice Kingsleigh will leave Underland….never to return."
The words repeated over and over and over through his mind, running faster and faster in terrible circles all through his head, until his whole body was shaking….and still, he couldn't stop the unbearable echo. He curled tighter into a ball, clenching his teeth and covering his ears with his hands, but nothing he did could change what he had heard.
Slowly, his whole spirit crumbling into a great nothingness, the Hatter lowered his head, put his face in his hands……and cried.
A/N; Chapter 7, everyone. Please leave a review and tell me your thoughts!