Author's note:

Some of you may have noticed the lack of a chapter, but don't panic! There's no danger on the roof! (BAM! Authentic Swedish expression, right there!) I was I a magical kingdom, far away, known as… Rättvik. It was… sort of fun. But I won't be going again. Or so I think… And FYI, the title of this chapter has nothing to do with Twilight sparklepires, it's actually named after the My Little Pony.

14. Twilight Sparkle

Alice stood on the balcony just outside her room, gazing out over the castle grounds. Just standing there brought a beaming smile to her face. This was the place where she'd confessed, just as much to herself as to Tarrant, that she loved her crazy, mad, wonderful Hatter. She closed her eyes, letting the memories take over...

It was a beautiful evening, Alice thought as she watched the starry shies.

"Do you have any idea why a raven is like a writing desk?" the voice that had become so familiar during her stay, lisped.

The Hatter casually walked up to her, his precious hat safely tucked underneath his left arm.

Alice smiled. "I'll have to think about it."

"You know what tomorrow is?" Hatter nervously asked.

"Frabjous Day, how could I forget?" the blonde sighed. "I wish I could wake up from this dream."

"You still think this is a dream?" Hatter smiled humourlessly, then shuddered. "Then that would mean that I don't exist."

"I'm afraid so; you're just a figment of my imagination. It would be like me to dream up someone who's half mad."

The Hatter smiled half-heartedly. "Yes, but you would have to be half mad to dream me up."

"I guess I am." Alice sighed again. "I'll miss you when I wake up."

"What… What if it's not a dream? Then what happens?"

"Honestly?" A small bird fluttered by, Alice following its flight until it had disappeared. "I don't know."

Suddenly aware of the small golden flecks in the Hatter's eyes, Alice reached up and cupped his pale face in her hands. "Tarrant," she whispered. "What does gold mean?"

"I've been considering things that begin with the letter L." Tarrant said, avoiding the question. "Lace… Linnet…" he paused slightly. "Love." He leant forwards, placing a faint kiss on Alice's lips, then he hastily retreated, blushing. "I'm sorry. It's not my place to-"

"Don't be." Alice beamed, stroking his smooth cheek. "I think I love you, Tarrant." she whispered.

The memory made Alice blush, how foolish she had been in those days. How could she ever have thought Underland could be a dream, especially after that evening? She couldn't have dreamt that up. It was twilight now; the setting sun cast long shadows on the ground. The castle, usually white, glistened in warm colours; deep red, orange and a beautiful sparkling gold.

"Do you have any idea why a raven is like a writing desk?" she asked, not even looking up as Tarrant came to stand next to her.

The pale man chuckled. "Still haven't got the slightest idea. You know what tomorrow is, don't you?"

"No." Alice sighed. "Not at all. Do tell me."

"It's your unbirthday, silly sweetling. And mine too, and Isa's. Isn't it curious how we share the same unbirthday?"

"I'd say it would be curiouser if we didn't. But isn't it my unbirthday today as well?"

"Yes, yes, of course. Only, no, not at all."

Laughing, Alice took his calloused, bandaged hand in hers. "Whatever have you've been doing to your poor hands?"

Tarrant looked down at his hands at this. They were more cut than usually; he'd been working so hard lately, wanting everything to turn out perfect for his Alice. But not all the cuts were because of work. There was a piece of the tip of his second finger missing; it had been an unfortunate accident involving Chessur, Thackeray and a stapler. Whoever had presented the Hare with a stapler in the first place? He'd always been living at the edge, (of the table, insanity, everything) and the accident was part of what drove him over it.

And there was the finger Mally always pricked with her sword, which he had presented to her, when she got upset or craved attention, which was quite often. That was why he'd taken to wearing a thimble, even though it made no difference, Mally found her way around it anyhow. There was no gratitude at all around that lass.

"My hands?" Tarrant sheepishly asked.

"Yes. What have you been doing?" Alice demanded to know.

"It's a long story…"

"Tell me anyway."

Chessur knew one shouldn't spy on one's friends, but how would you know what they thought of you if you didn't spy? Hovering slightly beneath the ceiling was the best place to do this, not many bothered to look up there, they didn't think someone would be hiding there. Isabel and Mallyumkun didn't suspect a thing, he was sure of it.

"What do ye think o' Chess?" Mally asked the girl cautiously.

"It's a nice game…" Isabel replied. "But I'm not very good at it."

"Not tha' Chess you big lump. The cat, Chessur."

"Oh, him. Well, he's nice. Do you like him?" Isabel asked slyly.

Mally blushed. "I- Well, I-" she stuttered. "He's a good friend."

"That wasn't what I meant. Do you love him?"

Chessur soared closer, eager to hear the answer. If Mally had been red earlier, that was nothing compared to what she was now. She stuttered something none could make out, then frowned at Isabel. "None of your business." she snapped, scurrying away, as if trying to avoid further personal questions.

How intriguing.

Chessur popped up next to Mally, effortlessly keeping her pace. "Why in such a hurry?" he purred.

Mally stopped dead, glaring momentarily at the cat. "I wasn't in a hurry."

"Then why were you running?"

"Isabel asked me, well… She asked me if I loved you." Mally admitted.

"Really?" Chess grinned in feigned surprise. "And what was the answer?"

Author's note:

Well, that's that. No more of this today. So, until then, my friends!