Thank you for coming back! Thanks to ElTangoDeRoxanne and fallacies for reviewing, I was very happy and did the futterwacken. In my mind. :D
Well, not to hold you up too long, on to the story!
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
The Bandersnatch came bounding toward them, and the creatures accompanying Alice attempted to flee. Mally slipped into a log, and the Tweedles, each spluttering in terror, jumped into a very large bush. Balthier simply smirked, stepping backward into the fog of the mushroom forest and vanishing. McTwisp and the Dodo were not so lucky. Soldiers wielding nets quickly snared the pair, dragging them away, leaving Alice to face to Bandersnatch.
She turned and ran, twigs and plant stems slapping at her legs and grasping at the hem of her dress as if begging her not to go. The ground shook with every step the Bandersnatch took behind her, an all too unpleasant reminder of how close the beast really was.
"Wait!" Alice puffed. "This is my dream. Nothing can hurt me." She whirled on her toe-tips, staring at the creature with some kind of bravery rising in her eyes. The Bandersnatch hauled up short, panting, and roared. Its breath stank, foul air blowing Alice's hair back from her face. In the face of this new terror, she quailed.
"What are you doing? Run!" Mally shouted, leaping on top of the Bandersnatch's head and brandishing her needle heroically. She wasted no time in plunging it into one of its eyes, levering the ball clean out and hopping off its head, disappearing into the forest. The Bandersnatch reared, bellowing in pain, paws flailing. One of them scratched Alice's arm, and she hissed in pain. The pain was real, and the hot blood trickling down her arm was also real. Once again, she ran away, the Bandersnatch's screams fading into the distance.
She crashed through the forest in panic until she ran into something very solid, which gave a surprised grunt when she careened into it headlong. They both tumbled to the ground, and Alice lashed out at it in fear, sobbing.
"Alice, it's only me!" Balthier sat up and caught at her hands, and she met his eyes with her own terror-stricken gaze, collapsing into his chest. Sobs turned into full blown tears, and she cried into his shoulder. "Oh…" Balthier folded his arms about her awkwardly, rubbing her shoulders and patting her back in an attempt to comfort her. Clearly, he had little experience calming young, crying girls.
"I want to go home," she hiccupped. "I want to wake up. I don't want this dream anymore." Balthier sighed.
"I don't want this dream anymore, either," he said, "But it would appear we are both stuck in the same situation. Come, what are these tears upon your face? Be strong, Princess."
"Princess?" Alice asked, glancing up at his face. She was surprised to see a faint blush spreading across his cheeks.
"A slip of the tongue, excuse me," he replied, gracefully rising to his feet and helping her up, but he paused, sniffing the air. "Alice, are you bleeding?" he asked, and she nodded, glancing down at the scratches on her arm. "Bother, what a time for this!" Balthier examined the jagged cuts. "The Bandersnatch, was it? That be the case, this is a very special wound."
Alice hissed as his fingers glided over scratches, but relaxed as he began to whisper under his breath. His hand glowed faintly with white light, which trailed over her skin and sank into the cuts. The bleeding stopped, but the angry red color did not fade, nor did the pain stay away for long. "Why is it so special? It's just a scratch." She said.
"There is a special kind of… I do not know how to describe it, really. I think the best way would be to call it a disease. Anyway, if the Bandersnatch scratches you, the wound immediately becomes infected, and only another creature with evaporating skills can cure it. Cleanse spells don't even work." Balthier replied, reaching into one of the two pouches he wore at his sides and pulling out a small spool of bandages. He wrapped her arm gently to avoid agitating the scratches.
"Ooh! Balthy likes Alice!" Tweedle-Dee said as he emerged from a bush.
"Balthy likes Alice!" Tweedle-Dum echoed him.
"I do not!" Balthier snarled. "Begging your pardon, Alice, you're a nice girl, but I'm far too old for you, and I already have a leading lady."
Instead of feeling intimidated by his sudden show of aggression, Alice welcomed it, tired of the false wall of emotions the people around her wore every day. "To think, I was going to be engaged today! This is turning into an adventure after all, though," she winced at the Bandersnatch scratches on her arm. "It is quite a dangerous one."
"Come on, let's get moving." Tweedle-Dee said.
"'Tis still dangerous out here!" Tweedle-Dum continued.
"This way!"
They followed the two brothers down the hill, into a forest of gnarled, twisted trees with claws for branches. There, the path diverged into a fork before a sea of thorny vines.
"We should go South."
"No! North!"
"SOUTH!" Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum began arguing again, pushing and shoving. There was a distant scream, like that of a hunting falcon.
Alice gasped as Balthier grabbed her arm and flung her to the ground, ducking down on top of her. "What are you—?" she cried. She had shrunk so small after drinking the vial's contents that he was wholly able to cover her with his body. His weight, though surprisingly very little, pressed her into the ground.
It was not a moment too soon, for a huge red, white and black striped bird swooped down, and the Tweedles saw it a moment too late. "Jub-jub Bird!" they shrieked at the same time, before it grabbed each of them by a foot and flew away.
"Wait!" Alice cried, struggling out from under Balthier and running to the edge of the fence. "Balthier, shoot them down!"
Balthier quickly drew his black bow, nocking an arrow and pulling back the string. The bow creaked under the pressure, and he released the arrow. It whistled toward the flying bird, but fell a few feet short. "Please, try again!" she begged, but he shook his head.
"They are too far away now. And even if I did hit the bird, they would fall to their deaths on the thorns below!" he said, shouldering his bow. "That bird belongs to the Red Queen, and she loves entertainment. If Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum are interesting enough, she'll spare their lives."
Alice kicked a small rock off the cliff in frustration. "Where do we go now? That bird just took our guides!"
"I've been here a while: I've stayed at least two weeks with McTwisp and the Dodo. I can get you to the Hare and the Hatter at Hare House, through Tulgey Wood. They'll know what to do." Balthier set off down the hill to the South, and Alice quickly fell in with him, not wanting to be picked off by any other manner of flying creature.
They entered into a wood of dark disposition, the black trees curling over the path, forming a sort of tunnel. Blue light filtered down through the numerous twigs and branches, and a haunting fog rolled in.
"Balthier, are there ghosts in Underland?" Alice whispered. Balthier shrugged.
"I have not seen any," he replied. She watched as his body flickered in the gloom, almost incorporeal. She fancied that if she took her eyes off him, he might disappear into thin air, never to be seen again.
"Are you a ghost?" she asked. "You're cold, and you vanish."
"Is this a joke? Keep going, I love jokes," a voice purred. "He's not the one who vanishes— I am!" Balthier smiled.
"Hello, Chess," he greeted a rather large grey and electric blue-striped tabby that drifted out of the air just to his right, tucking it under the chin. The cat grinned hugely, purring, and rolled in the air as Balthier scratched its head.
"Clearly, he is not a ghost, Alice; he's giving me an absolutely marvelous scratch." Chessur said.
"Speaking of scratches, the Bandersnatch got her." Balthier remarked, and Chessur made a leisurely float toward her. Alice stepped back warily.
"Don't worry, I don't scratch," he assured her, unwrapping the bandages with dexterous paws. "Oh yes, that looks quite nasty. I could treat it, if you like."
"No thank you," Alice whispered. "It will be fine when I wake up." The pain made it very hard to believe she was still dreaming.
"This is no dream, Alice." Balthier called from where he lounged against a tree nearby. "You had best let him purify it. If it's any incentive, that cut smells revolting to me."
"He's right, you know. And you never know when you'll get another chance." Chessur smiled wider.
"Alright," Alice conceded, and the cat purred, bending his head to lick at the cuts. She flinched as his rough tongue ran over the scratches, but with each lick, the scratches faded.
"You can heal her properly now, I think. It's a tiny little cut— Cure ought to do the trick, though I can see you've already used it." Chessur said to Balthier. "By the way, are you going to visit Hatter?"
"Yes, we were on our way just now." Balthier replied.
"Would you mind if I accompany you? It is almost teatime, and I adore my tea." The cat purred.
"Chess, with the Hare and the Hatter, it is has always been teatime since the Hatter attempted to murder Time." Balthier said glumly.
"Time does not matter. Not to me, and not to you." Chessur twirled through the air, and Balthier shifted, unsettled by his remark. "The only person here that it matters to is Alice, for she has to be ready by Frabjous Day."
"I've told you, I'm not the right Alice. I can't kill the Jabberwocky on Frabjous day, no matter what the Oraculum says." Alice pleaded.
"Really now? That's a pity." Chess hummed a little song to himself as he vanished.
Teatime in Underland, Alice decided, was a very strange affair. It involved pouring tea into shattered mugs, flinging all manners of pastries at each other, and speaking inane riddles that generally went around in circles.
"Hey, hey look! It's Alice!" Mally giggled from where she sat at the table. An agitated hare with bulging eyes brayed with raucous laughter, wringing his paws. At the end of the table, a man with flaming orange hair, ghastly white skin, and a rather ridiculous bow tie perked up.
"Alice!" he exclaimed, standing up and walking over the table, upsetting teacups and crushing platters.
"Hey! Watch it!" Mally protested.
"Well, Tarrant? You've seen Alice the most. Is this the right one?" The cat rolled out of the air next to the Hatter's ear, caressing his hat. The Hatter got down on one knee, and Alice blinked, unnerved by having his face so close.
"Oh yes, it is. I would recognize him anywhere!" Tarrant looked over his shoulder at Chessur and Balthier. "A bit smaller than I remember, but I would recognize him anywhere!"
"Fantastic," Balthier said, seating himself at the table next to Chessur and selecting a clean mug.
"Now then, Alice m'dear, why is a raven like a writing desk?" he asked. Mally and the March Hare giggled. Alice narrowed her eyes.
"You're mad!" she exclaimed.
"Perhaps," the Hatter said, taking her hand and leading her to the table, "but it is amazing how madness and ingenuity coincide." He ignored Balthier as the man sprayed tea everywhere. The Hare pounded him on the back. "And now, to business. Frabjous Day!"
He was interrupted by the sound of a barking dog, and his eyes widened. "I'm sorry, Alice, but it appears that Time always has the worst sense of humor." He forced a tiny amount of pishsalver down her throat, and Alice coughed, shrinking further. She gasped as he grabbed her, fingers closing around her body, and stuffed her into the teapot, closing the lid.
"Let me out!" she begged, pounding on the white porcelain walls, but he covered the spout, muffling her voice.
"It's the Knave and some Card Soldiers." Tarrant whispered to her, but even the whisper sounded like a booming cannon inside the teapot. "Be very, very quiet, or we shall all be caught, and the jig will be up."
"Now then," a very arrogant voice said, and Alice shivered. His voice was the oily, cool kind of voice she imagined a serpent would have. She could not see the Knave, but she already did not like him. "If it isn't my favorite band of lunatics!"
The March Hare screamed rather loudly, and there was the sound of shattering crockery. Alice covered her eyes, hoping no one was hurt. The Hatter and Mally began to laugh, and the teapot jiggled.
"Have you seen a little slip of a girl named Alice anywhere, Hightopp? If you have, and you hand her over, the Queen will surely pardon you for killing Time," the unpleasant voice continued pleasantly.
"Alice? I haven't seen the wee lad for an age," said the Hatter. Alice froze. He was lying.
"I see you have a new companion at your table. What is your name…?"
"Balthier, the storyteller." Balthier said silkily.
"Have you seen Alice?"
"Never in my life. Hm? What's that? Of course you haven't seen her either, you sodding fool! If I haven't seen her, how can you have?" Balthier's voice rose as he argued.
"Pull yourself together, man! There's no one behind your left shoulder! I can see why you have fallen in with these lunatics! You're raving yourself!" the Knave shouted.
"Oh, but you'll find in the end, that 'twas not I who was mad, it was you." Balthier purred dangerously, and there was the sound of rasping metal. Alice held her breath as the silence stretched ominously. How she did wish she was not inside a teapot!
The teapot jiggled again, and she heard Tarrant give a little "Oh!" The hot breath of a dog filled the teapot, and she thought she would die of the stench.
"Downal wyth Bluddy Behg Hid!" Alice heard the Hatter whisper, and the snuffing sound of the dog's nose vanished. With a yelp and a skitter, the dog ran into the distance, and there was a clatter as the Card Soldiers took off in pursuit.
"If the Queen or I find out that any of you have been harboring Alice, then it's to the chopping block with you," the Knave threatened. Moments later, there was the thunderous gallop of a racing horse.
The lid of the teapot opened, and the Hatter peered in. Alice buried herself under her undergarments, which were far too big, and Tarrant chuckled.
"Excuse me!" he exclaimed. "How about we fix that?" His huge fingers groped inside the teapot until he found the cloth, and Alice squeezed herself against the wall to keep from getting crushed. After a few minutes of listening to the snip of scissors and the snick of needles, the lid opened again, and he handed down a little blue dress that was quite fanciful in design. "Try that."
Alice slipped into the dress, looking down at herself, then tapped the lid of the teapot. "It looks lovely, Hatter." She said, smiling, and he grinned in return, reaching in and putting her on the table.
"Fetching." Balthier commented as he sipped his tea, and she ran down the table, carefully avoiding squashed scones and fruit.
"You are alive!" she gasped, hugging his wrist, which was the only part of him she could wrap her arms around. "I heard him draw his sword, and I thought he cut off your head."
"Of course not." He raised an eyebrow. "I did not make the Knave that angry. Knaves aside, I think you should be reacquainted with the Hatter. He lied to protect you, you know."
Alice looked back toward Tarrant, who looked at her expectantly.
"I'm sorry, Hatter. I can't kill the Jabberwocky. I can't kill anything even if I wanted to!" she said, her voice cracking. She was tired, lost, and shrunken, she had just been shoved into a teapot, and now these people expected her to slay a dragon for them?
"Can't kill anything, can ye?" the Hatter said coolly. "We'll see about that. Come. There is something I want to show you." He removed his top hat, and she looked at him uncertainly. "Up you get! There's no more comfortable way than travelling by hat!"
"Oh, oh! I love travelling by hat! Might I come, too?" Mally asked, but Tarrant shook his head.
"Not today, darling. Alice only today."
The Hatter placed his hat, now with Alice riding on the brim, back on his head, and wandered away into the foggy forest.
Huala! Huala!