Author's Note: I know it takes me a little while to update but I'm just so intent on getting it right that I force myself to reread absolutely everything in each chapter a few times before I post it, so I'm sorry you have to wait a bit. Though not as long as last time hey! And with the holidays it's been a madhouse at my home, it was ridiculous trying to find time to write when I really wanted to because my adopted grandpa stayed over for two weeks and I spent the whole time looking after him. Ah! Anyway, here's the next one! Hope it exceeds expectations, or at least upholds them! Again, I'm really sorry for the terrible way the writing is shown, with all the spaces and no paragraphs. I can't fix it!
Klotchyn: heads up, pay attention.
Guddler's scut: theif's ass
Frumious: filthy with a very bad smell
Nunz: don't leave, not now.
Five: Love
"Why would I lie about something like this?"
Margaret was almost in hysterics as she paced up and down the carpet of her mother's bedroom. "I saw it with my own eyes, mother! Alice climbed through that tree and –"
"Margaret, lower your voice," hissed Helen worriedly, glancing at the closed door again. When her daughter had arrived at Kingsleigh House out of breath and wild eyed, Helen had been terrified that something might have happened to Alice. But instead Margaret had begun ranting about seeing her younger sister climb inside a willow tree and disappear. It was complete nonsense. Not the kind of thing her eldest daughter usually indulged in.
"I don't care if people overhear, mother, this is important!"
"This is absurd!" Helen replied, "If the servants were to get wind of this then the entire town would know by sundown that now both the Kingsleigh sisters had lost their minds."
"But I haven't lost my mind," Margaret argued, "I followed Alice into the woods north of the Waverly Estate. I saw her stop at the base of a willow tree and…I don't know how exactly…but she touched the wood and the trunk opened and she climbed inside! I sat and waited for an hour, mother, and she still hasn't come back! We need to –"
"What, Margaret? Send a search party into the tree to find her? The heat must have affected you."
Helen softened at the distraught expression on her daughter's face. Life wasn't easy on any of them these days. Maybe she was simply imagining something that might help dear Alice out of the depths of her illness. She stopped Margaret's pacing with a gentle touch and gazed into her concerned eyes. There were already worry lines across her face, her mouth pinched in a tight line. The past six months had taken a heavy toll on the family, most of all Margaret. Between worrying over Alice and caring for her newborn daughter she hardly had a moment to herself. However, Helen could see that beneath the wrinkles and frown was the proud, determined expression that seemed so similar to the one she often saw on Charles and Alice.
She gave a tired sigh.
"You honestly believe what you saw, don't you?" Helen asked quietly.
Margaret nodded firmly, eyes ablaze. "You must come with me, down to the tree. You can see for yourself when she returns."
Glancing at the bedroom door once again, Helen felt her resolve wavering.
"Very well," she said, "Show me this cursed tree."
"The Oraculum's wrong," said Alice, for the fourth time that evening.
"The Oraculum is never wrong," drawled Absolem from his perch on the White Queen's shoulder. "Do you honestly think that a thousand year old parchment could make a mistake about something as simple as a kiss?"
"But this isn't a simple kiss," Alice argued, pacing the Reading Room's length. "This could possibly be the most complicated kiss of my life. Don't you understand? I'm married. So why would I kiss the Hatter like…" she swallowed and glanced again at the intimate image on the scroll. "Like that?"
They had been talking about this for hours now. The sun had set. The Tweedles had disappeared. When Alice and Absolem still hadn't emerged from the room, Mirana had lost her airy, happy expression and gone to find them.
"Why did you say this was 'lovely' news?" Alice rounded on the queen, who sat quietly at the end of the table. "Did you think this was something to be celebrated? My betrayal to my husband?"
"You and the Hatter share a special bond," Mirana replied, "I just thought this would make you happy. I hadn't considered your obligations to London."
The trouble was that it did make Alice a little happy.
The happiness was very deep down inside, of course - underneath the confusion, anxiousness and concern. But it was a definite kind of happiness nonetheless.
Not that she would ever dare to admit it.
"None of you ever consider my life in London, do you?" she retorted, lashing out now that she felt vulnerable. "You don't ever think that maybe I'm tired of being dragged back down here to solve all your problems!"
"Now Alice, you know that's not true," Mirana said evenly. "There's not a single creature in Underland that would make you return against your will. That's not how it works. Only those who seek it out….deep in their heart…can ever set foot here. Even if you don't realise it's what you want."
"I'm going to set this straight," Alice said suddenly, feeling panicky. "I've been taking the slow path with him for too long now. I'm going to shake the Hatter out of his insanity, and there'll be no need for the Haverlock Day and then I'm going home and I'm not coming back. I'm needed in London. My mother and my sister –"
"–And dear Henry, don't forget," Mirana interjected.
"Yes of course him!" Alice shouted. "He's the one I'm doing this for! I can't keep coming here any more! It's ruining my life in England!"
"Or is it that it's made you see what little you have in England, and it's frightening you because you wish to stay here?"
Alice glared at Absolem.
She felt as if she were falling down another Rabbit Hole, as if things were growing beyond her control. Her pulse quickened as she began to search for a way out in her head.
Closing her eyes, she saw Henry's face illuminated by sunlight. He was smiling that glorious smile of his, green eyes shining. Then he was telling her that it would all be okay, that she was strong enough and brave enough to get through this, just as he had when she'd first met him.
"I've slain once before," she said, opening her eyes to Mirana. "I destroyed that Jabberwocky because I thought I had to. Don't expect me to do the same to my marriage."
She slammed the door very loudly on her way out of the room.
Chessur was floating upside down and drinking his tea.
The March Hare was fidgeting too much to be doing any one thing. His paws were a confusing mix of gestures as he fumbled around and cried random words in a taught voice.
It seemed like a perfectly ordinary Tea Time, but Mallymkun was less than satisfied.
She was perched on a slice of batten berry, holding her chin in her paws. She sniffed at her tea with little interest.
"Suppose Hatter doesn't get any better…" she ventured. Though she aimed her question more for the Cheshire cat, the March Hare chose to answer.
He flung a scone at her – which she narrowly avoided being knocked off the table by – and cried 'Oraculum!' loudly.
Chessur turned right side up, the contents of his mug spilling upwards and floating away as he did so. "Thackery's right Mally, have faith in the Oraculum. It hasn't been wrong before, now, has it?"
"But if Alice is married –"
"Love is a terrible thing, I'm afraid. It follows its own path and doesn't take into account trivial matters like marriage to another man."
At the Dormouse's raised eyebrow, Chessur hurried on: "I'm not saying that dear Alice is at heart an unfaithful person. I'm just….alluding…to the idea that she mightn't know she's in love with another." He indifferently watched his tea floating away. "Of course nothing is confirmed."
"Oh that's all you do," snapped Mallymkun, "Plant ideas in people's heads and watch 'em fester. You were never like that before, Chess!"
"Well we've all changed in the last four years, have we not? For instance, I'd never have thought a certain tough little Dormouse would become afraid of a little extra madness in her friend and cease to visit him."
Mallymkun was about to argue when the March Hare suddenly dropped his cup and saucer with a loud crash.
The pair turned to him curiously, but he just sat there squeaking and shaking, pointing beyond them.
There was a path that finished at the edge of Witzend forest, which led people to the March Hare's home.
On that path, bathed in dappled shadow and walking jauntily towards them, was the Mad Hatter.
Mallymkun clutched her chest, little heart full of hope, while the March Hare continued to stammer and quiver.
The Cheshire Cat, who never took anything at face value, stiffened with apprehension and flexed his paws.
"Klotchyn, everyone!" the Hatter shouted, bounding towards them with an almost deranged enthusiasm. He ushered them closer, jumping up onto the tea table and looming large before them. "Come come, I have a time to make and no apology to spare." He frowned, shook his head. "No, reverse that. Now. The apology. I have been the most frumious kind of guddler's scut." He swayed slightly on the table, his shoe slipping in a bowl of cream. The trio of animals simply stared at him, each with a different expression on their face. "For you see, I have been mad. Terribly mad. I was trapped in my own misery for so long that I couldn't see a way out, and I'm sorry to say I frightened my good friends away." At that point his gaze wandered to the Dormouse. "For which I don't blame you, Mally. For all the ferocity in your heart it's still really quite tiny and I didn't expect it to hold up against the depth of my troubles."
"Oh, Hatter…" the Dormouse wiped a tear from her eye and threw herself at his shoe, hugging it tightly. Hatter crouched down on the table and patted her head.
"Your tea's gone cold!" Thackery cried, flinging a spoon at him and pointing at the head of the table, where a lone cup of tea sat untouched.
Chessur was suspicious. "So tell me, dear friend," he said, "What has brought on this change of heart?"
The Hatter's whole body seemed to melt. He sank down onto the table, lying over mugs and plates and cakes without a care. Resting his head on a teapot cosy – which was when Chessur noticed he wasn't wearing his hat – and staring at the sky above, he answered in a bewitched voice: "Love, Chess." Absently he stroked a loaf of bread that was squashed next to him. "Love has brought me back to all of you."
Mallymkun exchanged a worried glance with her friends. She cleared her throat. "W-what kind of love, Hatter?"
"Only the best kind," the Hatter replied, stretching out and sticking his elbow in a cake in the process. "It's the loveliest, head spin-inducing, maddeningly perfect kind of love that sends shivers down your very spine to think of it." He sighed heavily, eyes glazed, and seemed as if he were about to sleep until Chessur appeared hovering above his placid face.
"Is it…Alice?"
"Alice," the Hatter whispered fervently, crossing his arms around himself. "She's got me all…all tingly, Chess."
The cat hummed thoughtfully. "And Alice feels the same, yes?"
The Hatter's peaceful expression turned to one of fury in an instant, but before he could say anything McTwisp interrupted the scene and his anger vanished.
"What – what are you doing here?" the White Rabbit shouted rudely in utter surprise.
Chessur was still pondering over the flicker of rage he'd seen in the Hatter's gaze, and didn't reply.
"Hatter's cured," Mallymkun called, though not sounding so sure now.
The focus of their attention now sat up and leapt from the table with childlike energy, running to meet the rabbit.
"I'm in love, McTwisp," the Hatter muttered conspiratorially, as if now it were a great secret. "Alice has cured me with her love."
"I see," McTwisp replied nervously. "I need to speak with your friends in private, if I may," he added. The Hatter seemed to think nothing of it. He bowed graciously as the White Rabbit hopped over to the others. The Hatter made a flourishing motion with his arm and out of his sleeve fell a small scroll. He unfurled it and began to read over it intently, soon forgetting them all.
"I don't believe he's cured at all," Chessur murmured. "I believe that what we're seeing is simply another exaggerated emotion."
"Even if he was better, once Alice tells him she can't stay he's just gonna lose it again," said Mallymkun sadly.
"Gallymoggers!" cried the March Hare.
"Quiet, Thackery," they all hushed, turning to see if the Hatter heard, but he was now too busy dusting off his coat and singing to himself.
"This is terrible," McTwisp moaned, "Everything's gone wrong. Alice is coming right now to find him, to tell him that she's had enough and she's going home…"
"Alice has given up?" Chessur enquired, surprised.
"She says she's going to…to shake him out of this. And then…then she's gone."
"I knew she'd crack eventually," Mally said bitterly, pacing the table. "That ruddy –"
"He's not ready for her to leave," McTwisp interrupted, "There's still two weeks until the Haverlock Day."
"Well we'll just 'ave to be better at helping him," said Mallymkun, "Call him over 'ere for some tea."
"Excellent idea," said Chessur, "A little tea should revive his spirit."
"But look at him!" cried the White Rabbit, jabbing a paw in the Hatter's direction, who was now mumbling heatedly to himself and squeezing the scroll tightly. "We need to keep him away from Alice until we can persuade her to stay the course that's been set."
"I've never had a tea party that didn't do me some good," said Chessur. "I think our friend might benefit –"
"No! He's not ready," said McTwisp, and the discussion soon devolved into an argument.
The Hatter paid no attention to them.
He held a very important piece of parchment in his hand, a list so vital to his future that it made him jittery to think of it. His happiness had threatened to burst at Chessur's question earlier, because it had upturned his whole reason for suddenly finding himself so happy. If Alice didn't feel the same way, why would she continue to return to him like she had? He was certain her talk of marriage was a mistake. A terrible dream. And all he had to do was give his list to her and she'd surely be his. Not mine, he corrected himself, Alice could never belong to someone, like a sock or biscuit. Trying not to think of what she would taste like if she were a biscuit, his fiery excitement was now giving way to a case of nerves and impatience. He began wondering just when he'd be able to present the scroll to –
"Alice!" he shouted, as the object of his desire suddenly burst through the trees.
She was all sort of…red faced and messy, he noticed...but he was nevertheless mesmerised by her.
And she was by him, apparently.
Upon seeing the Hatter Alice gave a strangled cry and threw herself at him.
"You terrible – couldn't find – thought you'd – something stupid!" she couldn't get a sentence straight, just hung from him with the strength of someone desperately relieved. The Hatter laughed, overcoming his momentary shock and hugging her tightly to him. She was so…soft, her dress silky, her hair sweet-smelling. All manner of things beginning with S.
"Though I do approve of random babbling now and again, Alice, I think you ought to try finishing a sentence. I'm finding it hard to keep up with you." He was beginning to worry he'd never let go of her when she suddenly wrenched herself from him and smacked his arm. Quite hard. Frowning, it was then he noticed she was holding his hat in one hand.
"Why is it you're always retrieving that for me?" he asked, nodding at it.
"Why have I got this?" Alice brandished the hat vigorously; she heard the Cheshire Cat moan about tearing the fabric. "I'll tell you why I have this. I came back to your hut hoping to talk some sense into you. I was feeling very cross and determined when I came knocking and you didn't answer your door. And then what did I find?"
He was about to answer but something in her eyes told him she wasn't really asking.
"Nothing! No Hatter, no note and you're most prized possession left discarded on the floor. I imagined the worst!"
"Well you do have a fantastic imagination –"
"I thought you'd done something dreadful!" Alice shouted, "After the way I left you today I thought you'd gone off and – and…" she trailed off, unable to finish.
The Hatter was smiling. She was worried about me.
"But you're not…you're here," she said curiously, "You're here with your friends and you're smiling."
"Quite an eye for observation you have," Chessur drawled from the background.
"And now I can't be cross with you because I'm just so relieved to have found you, and it's not fair because I was all set to shout." Her voice was weak. "So what's going on? Why are you here?"
Her yelling seemed to have sobered him, quelling any thoughts of erupting with emotion.
"It's magnificent Alice," he told her intently. "After you left I had time to think, which is very good for a brain like mine. My thoughts tend to chase each other and I need time to sort them out. And what I came up with…put me in such a wonderful mood. It's as if I'm…reborn. Because of you!"
"Me?" Alice's gazed flicked to the animals slowly edging closer towards them. Their expressions said something was going on that she wasn't aware of.
"I have something to show you, Alice, something very important –"
"But first, I think a little Tea Time might be in order," Chessur interrupted. He had no idea what the Hatter wanted to show the girl but he had a feeling she probably wouldn't take it well.
Alice seemed to have forgotten all about her plan to abandon him. "Yes," she agreed, handing his hat to him, "I could definitely do with a drink."
They realised they were all quite hungry, as the sky above was now an inky blue and splattered with stars. The day had disappeared so quickly. Everyone took up their seats, but as Alice threaded her arm through the Hatter's and led him to his seat, there was an awkward pause.
This was the first time he'd sat with them in four years.
"Quite an important moment, don't you think?" the Hatter asked, flashing a nervous smile at Alice and leaning in a little too close. She nodded, butterflies suddenly taking refuge in her stomach, and sat down beside him.
Chessur assumed a nonchalant look while keeping a close eye on them both. McTwisp tutted under his breath and sat furthest away, glancing at his pocket watch to let them all know he thought it was much too late for this sort of thing. Mallymkun and the March Hare found they couldn't remember the protocol for Tea Time. They were fidgeting and glancing around and not at all ready to start throwing scones and flinging cream. Their nervousness soared higher when the Hatter began whispering fervently to Alice, and she nodded reassuringly.
"You're going to be fine," she told him in an undertone. But as everyone was now very obviously watching him as they went about their business, he grew embarrassed and twitchy, staying quiet.
Biting into a large piece of cake, Alice tried to encourage him to do the same, but he was too anxious.
"I have something to show you," he kept saying to her quietly.
This wasn't working. She wished they'd stop eyeing him so suspiciously, even though she had an idea of why. He'd seemed too carefree when she ran into him, his eyes following her too much. She suspected that he wasn't cured at all; just that today's emotion was something quite strong to do with her. And the way he kept whispering to her, it seemed he was desperate to get away from the tables and be alone. It didn't help that the March Hare was shivering more than ever and blinking in their direction constantly.
What they needed was something to distract them all from him.
Alice paused in the act of holding the sliver of cake to her mouth, eyes widening with an idea, and flung it haphazardly at Thackery.
It splattered across his body with a thick, wet sound. They all stared. Thackery blinked yet again, now frozen. Very slowly, he licked the icing from his lips, wiped off a big hunk of sponge with his paw, and lopped it at Alice's head.
The second it hit her with a splat he let out a great big, mad giggle, and the fight began.
Scones were launched across the table like missiles, with Mallymkun fighting them off with a knife. The March Hare grabbed a spoon and used it to lob great heaps of cream at the Hatter, who retaliated with a barrage of biscuits dipped in jam. Chessur was doing his best to look dignified about the whole thing, but Alice caught him using his tail to flick a slice of cake at a rather worried looking McTwisp. The White Rabbit sighed, shrugged, and then hid his pocket watch safely away and began fighting Chessur's tail with a breadstick. There were no more cautious glances, no more whispers or twitchy hands. They all forgot that their friend was ill, including the Hatter himself, as they dug their paws and hands into chunks of cake and jam and threw it into the fray. Laughing so hard her ribs ached, Alice stuck her hand out in time to bat away a scone coming for her. Nobody noticed when she stopped fighting back and just sat there, watching them all. If only life could be like this in England, she thought, it would be so much more enjoyable. She noticed as Thackery and Mallymkun began a swordfight with breadsticks that the Hatter no longer giggled madly. Instead he laughed, actually laughed, the way he had in the forest when they'd both shrunk. And it was his friends that were helping him here, she thought, not just herself. There was energy about him that she alone hadn't been able to ignite. Thinking back to the list she'd made, a pleased smile graced her face, and she sighed, relieved.
There were still things worth living for.
It looked like she could cross that off her list.
"You know, the Cheshire Cat is usually the one with the smug grin," said a voice from beside her. The White Rabbit had hopped onto the seat next to her. "What are you looking so pleased about?"
"It's working McTwisp," she said triumphantly, "Look at him! He's doing so well!"
"You have been a great help Alice," he replied, "It's a shame you can't just stay," he said without thinking, and Alice stiffened. How could she have forgotten her reason for wanting to leave? But worse than this was the sudden silence that fell around the table. The Hatter had heard, and ceased his actions immediately.
"You're not staying to finish the fight, Alice?" he asked meekly.
"Of course I am," she replied hastily, "McTwisp didn't mean that."
"Then what did he mean?"
But before she could say anything, he continued. "He meant stay in Underland, didn't he? You're still going home." He wiped cream from his eye and threw down a tart he'd been holding. "So it wasn't a dream after all," he mumbled to himself. Mallymkun, who was closest, tried to put a comforting paw on his arm but he shucked it off.
"And you all knew, didn't you?" he asked of his friends, who had gone quiet. "You thought I wouldn't notice she'd left if you just kept me busy."
"Hatter, listen," said Alice, "There's something that's going to happen, and I can't be there for that. I –"
"Alice would you accompany me back to my hut?" he asked, with a sudden determination.
"I – well, yes."
"Excellent." He barely spared the others a glance as he jumped from his seat and strode to the path that would lead them back to Tulgey Wood, where his shabby hut resided. Befuddled, Alice had no choice but to share a confused look with Chessur before hurrying to catch up with the Hatter. He remained ahead of her, keeping his fast pace, and she thought he wasn't going to speak to her until they reached his hut. But as soon as they were deep in the forest, well out of ear shot, he stopped in his tracks and turned to her. His whole demeanour seemed to have changed. He wrung his hands in front of him and hung his head. "I'm afraid I didn't do very well back there, did I?" he asked. "I lost my temper. That was my first Tea Party in a long time and –"
He kicked a large mushroom. "I lost my temper."
Now completely thrown off, Alice patted his arm in what she hoped wasn't a condescending way. "It's – it's all right," she told him, "We can try another day."
He seemed to brighten at the thought of that. "Yes," he murmured, "Another day."
They started to walk again, the Hatter taking Alice's arm in his, and traipsing on in silence until they reached his hut. She was trying to figure out just what was going on inside that mind of his. He was behaving more erratically than she'd seen him in do in a while.
As they stood at the threshold of the door he seemed to be on the verge of saying something, but she cut across him quickly.
"It's been a long day; maybe you should just be alone for a while. To rest and –"
"Nunz," the Hatter said fervently. "No Alice, nunz, nunz."
She didn't know what the Outlandish word meant, but by his desperate tone she could guess.
"Well I can't stay too much longer; everyone at home will be worrying about me by now –"
"Time runs differently here, remember? It's only been a few hours in your London. Not an entire day."
She looked put out that he'd waved away her excuse for leaving.
"What a day it's been," he murmured, standing awkwardly at the door.
Alice made a nondescript hum of agreement.
Eventually the silence was too heavy for her.
"Is there something –?"
"You're a good size," he blurted, and she detected the hint of a blush on his pale cheeks.
She couldn't think of what to say. "Oh?"
His eyes wandered over her shyly. "I like…you're not tiny, not large…or odd-sized so our eyes don't meet properly and you just sort of fit into the world and you're right and –" he broke off, taking a calming breath. "You're a good size," he repeated with a sigh. Alice's stomach filled with butterflies again. Without realising it they had both entered the doorway and were now leaning against each side of its frame. There wasn't much space between them, but the way he was looking at her made it feel like no space at all. He was gazing at her, couldn't stop, wouldn't stop, because she was the real Alice and she kept coming back to him and even when she was yelling at him she was pretty and –
"Hatter, will you never stop looking at me that way?"
He snapped out of his reverie to realise that Alice, pale-skinned and tight-lipped Alice, was now flushed with colour from head to toe.
Because of him.
"Does it bother you?" he asked, speaking with that humble, soft lisp again.
No, she thought, Not at all. And that's when she realised she'd mistaken her nervousness for unease. But it wasn't uncomfortable at all, being with him like this. It was like he said – she just fit here, next to him. Out of every little piece of madness that existed in Underland, this made perfect sense to her. She could spend every moment wandering through the forests and plains being confused by caterpillars and patronised by daisies, but the instant she was with the Hatter, she felt like the only important thing, no matter his state of mind, was to be there with him.
With the man that she'd been dreaming about every night since she was six years old.
"Why me?" Alice whispered, "Why can't this be someone else's dilemma? Why can't I be happily married and have children and be proper and dull in London like everyone else?" Her voice was so small and weak that he might have pitied her, if the truth hadn't been burning inside him like a wildfire.
"Because you're meant for much more than dreary old London, Alice Kingsleigh," he whispered.
It was a strange feeling, to know she was falling in love with the wrong man.
The Hatter was impractical, illogical and ill-minded even, but he was more entertaining and interesting than any man she'd ever met. He was brilliant and daft, bizarre but somehow right, fierce and gentle. He was a thousand men rolled into one.
And he lived in another world.
It was this fact alone that labelled him 'the wrong man'. It wasn't because he could be dangerously moody, or because he wasn't her husband. It was simply that she knew if she were to choose him, she'd have to leave everything she knew.
But what did she know?
Cold, selfish London. A proper, aristocratic mother. A sister who lived happily with a scoundrel.
If these were the things she knew, then Alice thought she might be better off not knowing anything at all.
The Hatter took a step closer. His coat made a rustling sound against the front of her dress. "You asked me why I'd lost my mind…"
Her heart was beating fast. "Yes?"
"Well it was because…" No time like the present, he thought. "I loved you. Even then, I loved you…and you left."
What a strange reaction, she thought, to find her eyes suddenly fill with tears. Blinking them away furiously, she felt herself tipping towards him, and he her. But at the last second she dipped her head down so that his lips brushed against the crown of her head.
"A-Alice?" he stammered nervously, as he dared to skim a hand along her forearm.
"Hmm?"
"Do you – do you love me?"
She trembled, couldn't lift her head away from his coat. "I can't…" she murmured into his lapels. Her voice was breathy. "H-Henry…he'll be wondering where I am."
At the mention of her husband's name, the Hatter withdrew his hand from her arm.
But it wasn't the thought of Henry that had kept Alice's lips apart from his. It was a kind of fear, a tension in the pit of her stomach. A voice in her head telling her that this had happened before, in another place, a terrible place, and it was painful and terrifying and –
Alice drew back from him further.
"I really do have to go now."
"Have to or want to?"
"I don't feel like telling you that difference, Hatter. I've got to go."
She began picking out the path that led her to the willow tree. He followed quickly.
"I still haven't shown you the thing, Alice!"
"The thing?" she didn't slow down, so he sped up, now walking backwards in front of her to try and make her catch his eye.
"Here." He thrust the scroll into her hands. "I've made a…a little collection, of sorts…about you." He was too desperately serious to blush. This was the crucial moment to beat all crucial moments. "Of my feelings, thoughts, observations and desires…in regards to you."
She stared at the scroll in her hand. The Hatter's soul lay bare? For her?
"But…why?"
"I wish to submit it to you as evidence that I can love you enough."
More than him. They both knew that part without it being said.
She regarded him steadily, her pace slowing. "This isn't a competition, Hatter."
"It isn't?" he seemed genuinely puzzled. "Then how will we know whom you've chosen?"
"Who's to say that I'm making any choice at all?"
Something hardened in his features then, a sort of stoic reserve. A stone, a lump of coal with a diamond inside. "But if you had to choose, right at this moment, who would it be?"
They had reached the willow tree. Feeling very panicky now, Alice stroked the trunk and it slid open to reveal a dark hole. "I don't... I don't have to make the choice, so I won't." She clambered through it, barely aware of where she was going as their argument continued.
The Hatter followed her through without a moment's hesitation. "One day you will, Alice!" he shouted, panicking too, but also a little cross. "All roads lead somewhere! And someday ours will come to a fork, and it will become his or ours and you'll have to choose one."
She climbed her way out of the darkness, into the rosy-hued world of England at sunset. "Hatter, you're losing your temper again."
"Choose!" he shouted, his voice laced with different tones, "If you had to choose right now, could you? Would you?"
She finally turned around to face him. He was breathing heavily, his expression deadly serious. But she noticed his sparkling eyes weren't lit with fire. They were still just green.
Her mouth opened and closed a few times, but no sound came.
"No," he murmured, "I didn't think so."
Alice began to run.
She didn't care that the Hatter had just followed her through to her own world, that she'd arouse suspicion at home by barging in red faced and teary eyed. That Henry would be so worried about her that he'd not let up until she confessed. What she cared about was putting as much distance between her and the Hatter as possible, because she was afraid of what had happened. Afraid of the way she'd felt, still felt, and because she knew if she stayed, she might just fall apart in front of him.
The Haverlock Day is still to come – you can't leave him like this – you can't leave him – you must read that scroll – you're going to lose yourself –
"Shut up!" she pleaded, willing the thoughts to stop chasing her. A few shaky tears were now tracking their way down her cheeks. She'd reached Kingsleigh House, but she dared not go in like this. She gripped her aching side, taking refuge behind a stone statue, and tried to calm down, though there was nothing to be calm about. Her best friend, who she happened to love, was mad. Her husband was perfect, but she couldn't ever love him enough. Her family treated her like a child, and rejected her marriage. Wiping the tears from her eyes, Alice clutched at the ring around her neck and sank onto the ground. And then as if she'd called him, a shadow fell over her, and she looked up to see Henry above her.
"What's the matter?" he asked, crouching down and pulling her into his embrace. But Alice just gave a sigh that was too world-weary for her years, and didn't answer.
"Choose! If you had to choose, right now, could you? Would you?"
Margaret and her mother could see that they weren't the only ones who couldn't get the question out of their heads, because the stranger who had uttered it seemed to have an expression of utmost regret on his face. He'd watched Alice leave with frustration at first, but now it seemed he was just angry at himself. They studied him in shock as he unclenched his fists and hung his head low.
He was so…familiar.
It also seemed that he was not going to run after her, as he just stood in front of the tree, looking forlornly in her direction. Then quite suddenly he shook himself, as if just waking up, and looked around at his surroundings like he'd only just noticed where he was.
"A-Alice's world," he stammered, his voice now very timid.
They had no idea what he meant by that. Helen was rendered speechless, too completely shocked to even move. As Margaret studied the man further, stepping out from behind a bush, she suddenly realised where she'd seen him before. Before she could stop herself, she gasped loudly. Helen grabbed hold of her daughter's arm and squeezed tightly as the man finally spotted them, and his eyes lit up with surprise.
"It's you," Margaret cried out in astonishment. "You're Henry!"