Chapter One

Two years later

Alice woke to see a sleeping man beside her, his hair like fire and his chest rising and falling like a feather in the breeze. She smiled and crept into the bathroom to fix her hair and get dressed. She put on one of the new dresses, which she'd protested against, but her dear Hatter had insisted that she get a new wardrobe to accommodate for her. She tied it where she should and noticed that it had been designed to accentuate the slight curve of her stomach. She smiled and rubbed the home of her child for the next 6 months.

"Maybe it's time to wake up your father, little one." She smiled and set about tying her hair.

"The father doesn't need waking. He's up." Tarrant set his chin on her shoulder to gaze at her in the mirror, and placed his hand on the curve. Alice turned her face to kiss him softly before finishing her hair and standing.

"Tarrant, you must get dressed. The time is well past 10 and I agreed to meet with Mirana to discuss my training schedule for the next 4 weeks."

Tarrant's head whipped around to stare at her, his eyes orange and the sockets black. "Ye'll b'doin' nithin o' the sor', my Alice. Ye be carryin' m'child in ye an' ye want t'be doin' swordplay? Nay ye will nae!"

Alice sighed and placed her hand on his cheek. Tarrant closed his eyes and embraced the warmth before grabbing Alice and holding her close to him. "Please don't Alice. Please don't endanger our littlin'. Please."

Alice pulled away enough to look at him. His eyes were yellow, which meant he was slowly calming down. She rubbed a thumb across his cheek. "Tarrant, it won't be swordplay. Just training to keep me healthy whilst I'm carrying the child."

The relief in Tarrant's eyes was shown with his usual bright green, and a grin on his face. "Alright, my Alice. I shall get dressed, and we shall discuss your training schedule with Mirana. Okay?" Alice nodded and Tarrant turned to use the bathroom.

She called through that she was going down to the kitchen's to find some breakfast. Thackery made her some light toast, so her sickness wouldn't be so bad. Whilst she waited, she contemplated this life. She and Tarrant had married a year ago.

The ceremony had contained a ritual in which they made a small incision over each of their hearts and taken a drop on their fingers, pressing the drop to the other's wound, saying a promise to stay with them through the good and the bad, and fully understanding one another's feelings, for the rest of their lives. This had resulted in a design blossoming on their chests over their hearts. Alice's was a keyhole, surrounded by swirls and flicks, whilst Tarrant's was a key, with an intricate pattern in it. Alice touched her design softly and smiled, and Tarrant smiled back, as she felt through the bloodbond.

Not long after Thackery placed the food in front of Alice (or rather, it was thrown but it landed neatly in front of her.), Tarrant sat himself down and watched her eat, his head resting on his arms. Alice smiled for a moment, and then she winced in pain. Tarrant put his arm around her immediately.

"The littlin'?" he questioned. She was already shaking her head.

"No. It wasn't anything like that. I suppose I must have slept badly, and pulled a muscle." Tarrant nodded and knew the pain was already gone.

They went up to Mirana's chambers, where the woman spent a full half hour speaking to Alice's stomach alone.

When they left the queen after 3 hours, they felt very tired and wanted to return to bed. So instead, they went to Tarrant's workshop, where he made hats, and Alice slept soundly on the couch, so he could watch her. At about 4 o'clock, she was woken for afternoon tea with her husband.

Alice smiled at him as he obsessed about some of the hats he'd made whilst she slept. She rubbed her tummy, and every so often, Hatter would switch from speaking to her, to speaking to the bump in her usually flat abdomen. They went up to bed quite early, sleeping for an hour in each other's arms, before a frog came to the door with their evening meal. It made Alice feel sick, and she promptly ran to be sick. Poor Tarrant had to explain to the offended footman that it was not his presence that made her ill, but that Alice had a sickly stomach. The frog stuck his nose in the air and marched from the room.

When Alice emerged from the bathroom, Tarrant had moved the food and replaced it with a jug of water and a glass. Alice sighed and brushed away a few stray hairs. She wouldn't miss the sickness that came with her pregnancy.