"And I won't cry for yesterday

There's an ordinary world somehow I have to find"

Chapter 2

The entire ordeal happened in seconds. One moment, everyone was laughing, drinking tea, and having a good time. The next, plates and cups were being shattered as Tarrant lunged across the table and pinned Hamish to the ground. "Yer lying!" He yelled, his accent thick and menacing. "She'll not be dead!" Because the redhead was still only around two feet tall, the madman seemed twice as intimidating as he normally would. It didn't help that his eyes had become the most frightening shade of orange he had ever seen. Tarrant's rough fingers found their way around Hamish's tiny neck, and soon he was gasping for air. "Yer lying!"

Both men barely heard the cries of the others for Tarrant to stop, and all the pulling, prodding, and poking from the mouse and the Hare couldn't get the madman to move. Chessur seemed to have disappeared at some point during the confrontation.

Soon, black began to creep around the edges of Hamish's vision as his air supply diminished. The last thing he heard before he blacked out was a firm, yet beautiful, voice yell, "Tarrant! Release the man this instant!" The crazy-haired man's grip loosened, and Hamish saw his eyes flicker to a grey-blue. Just before he slipped into unconsciousness, he decided that this wasn't a dream, after all.

Is he okay?

I don't know; he's been out for quite a while.

Oh, I feel dreadful…

You should not have reacted like that, but I understand. The news is quite alarming. Are you sure of what he said?

Yes, I'm sure. He said… he said that…

Oh, Hatter…

I need a moment…

Hamish could make out faint voices, though he didn't recognize any of them. Well, come to think of it, one sounded vaguely familiar… He couldn't pinpoint where he had heard it before, though. He tried to open his eyes just a crack, but found that the light was too bright. He quickly shut them once more, before trying again.

This time, he managed to keep them open, though everything was still very blurry. Slowly, though, things began coming into focus. After a few moments, he could make out that he was in an unfamiliar room. A very, very white room. So white, in fact, that it hurt his head to look at it. He tried in vain to sit up, and that action only resulted in him falling back onto the bed with a pain-filled grunt. Suddenly, a figure was at his side, looking down at him. "Oh, you're awake." A white blur appeared in his vision; well, a different white then the rest of the room.

"Wh-" he managed to choke out. It hurt immensely to talk, but he was so terribly confused.

"You shouldn't talk," the voice said. "It's not good for that throat of yours. Here," Hamish felt someone help him into a sitting position as his vision began to clear. "Drink this." A silver goblet was gently placed in his hands, and he reluctantly took a sip. Only after the liquid had slipped down his throat did he realize that he had no idea what he was drinking, however. Just as quickly as the pain had come, though, it diminished. Hamish soon found that he could make out things in the room, as well.

As if to answer his unspoken questions, the voice began talking. "I'm so very sorry about Tarrant's uncalled-for reaction to your… news. We're all very attached to our Champion – Tarrant especially – and it breaks all our hearts to know that she's no longer with us." This, however, only made the injured man even more confused. He turned to look at the speaker to question her, and gasped when he did.

Sitting in a lavish chair to the right of his bed was a beautiful woman clad in white. Her platinum hair fell to her shoulders, though her eyebrows and lips were a deep black. She wore a stunning white dress, and a silver crown was placed delicately atop her head. The questions he had been about to ask died on his tongue, and he managed to stutter out – now that his throat was feeling better – "Wh-who are you?" The woman laughed at the expression on his face, which promptly caused it to grow a comical blush.

"My name is Mirana, and, because I know you are going to ask it anyway, you are in Marmoreal. You lost consciousness after Tarrant's outburst, and you were brought here." She smiled softly at Hamish as his expression went from embarrassed to confused.

"I-I'm not in England anymore, am I?"

She just shook her head and sighed. "I'm afraid not, Mr. Ascott. We're working on a way for you to return as we speak… I do assume you wish to return home?"

"Yes, yes; very much so." He replied a little too hastily. Mirana, however, just resumed her smile. "Please, do call me Hamish. Also, if you don't mind my asking, what is the 'Champion' you mentioned earlier. I was a tad out of it, and I'm not sure if I heard you correctly." The lovely woman sighed again.

"The late Miss Alice Kingsleigh, Champion of Underland, Slayer of the Jabberwocky, Banisher of the Red Queen, Savior of Underland." She stated somewhat sadly.

"Alice was here?" Hamish managed to sputter out, again, in shock.

"Yes – she's been here twice, actually. I believe she referred to it as 'Wonderland', though." Mirana laughed sadly to herself. Then something in Hamish's mind clicked.

"I'm in Wonderland?" Alice had often talked about her strange dreams when she was a little girl, and often referred to it as Wonderland. Not that he really thought about it, he could recall her mentioning such things as disappearing cats and talking rabbits. "Alice's mad world?"

She nodded. "So she has mentioned us…"

"Yes, yes," Hamish was getting quite excited; finally, something remotely familiar about this place! "She mentioned the vanishing cat—"

"Chessur."

"—A blue caterpillar—"

"Absolem."

"—A set of twin boys—"

"Tweedledee and Tweedledum."

"—The rabbit in a waistcoat—"

"Nivens McTwisp." As Hamish ran through the list of creatures he could remember, Mirana gave him their names. He felt himself gaining energy as he sipped the liquid from the goblet in his hands – he no longer wondered what was in it; he trusted Mirana – and he also felt himself becoming happier than he had in a long while. All this confirmed that Alice hadn't been mad, and knowing that her sanity had been completely intact when everyone had thought otherwise made him feel relieved. He gained a new respect for her – she continued life even under so much criticism.

Just as he was about to mention the next thing he could remember, the door opened to reveal Tarrant. "—A hatter… You're the Mad Hatter!" Hamish exclaimed, seeing the madman in a new light. The Hatter blinked and did a double-take at the redhead sitting up and talking. Immediately, he went into an apologetic ramble.

"Oh, I am so very terribly sorry for my actions earlier. I do hope you'll forgive me, or, if you won't forgive me, you won't hate me too much. I do miss Alice very much, and your news was very unsettling. We all miss Alice – not that I miss her more than everyone else – it's just been very quiet and boring here without her here and I know she said she'd be back before I knew it, but I knew she had left the minute she disappeared and—"

"Hatter!" Mirana scolded good-naturedly.

The Hatter shook his head slightly as his eyes refocused. "My apologies, your majesty."

"Your majesty?" Hamish said, before he looked at Mirana and clapped. "Ah! The White Queen!" This earned him a smile from the Queen and a confused look from Tarrant.

"You didn't know?" He asked.

Mirana chuckled, "He's been having a series of epiphanies. I wondered when he was going to get that one…"

Suddenly, Hamish began to feel very tired. Mirana noticed this, and, much to the Hatter's dismay, suggested he take a rest. His outburst had taken more out of him than he realized, and soon Hamish was fast asleep.

"We'll ask him when he's stronger, Tarrant." Mirana soothed the drooping Hatter. "It so much to take in, coming here. He's not like Alice." He only nodded and retreated from the room, again.

Over the next few days, Hamish continued to regain his strength. He was not only physically and mentally exhausted from being nearly choked to death, but also from the entire trip in Underland. Neither his unpleasant experience in the rabbit hole, nor the fact that neither the Uplechkin, nor the Pishsalver, agreed with his sensitive digestion helped the situation at all. On his third day at the castle, however, he was able to walk around once more. Mirana and Tarrant took his fully-regained strength to their advantage, and finally managed to corner him into the conversation that they wanted.

The trio was sitting in the main dining hall, eating supper at the long table. Mirana, as usual, was at the head, while the Hatter was to her right and Hamish to her left. They had been telling the Overlander bits and pieces of Alice's story, and tomight they reached the battle with the Jabberwocky. Hatter was the one who had initiated it. "It's amazing to me," he said, "that Alice could fend off – no, kill – the most fearsome creature in all of Underland, yet meet her end in the boring world she lived in." There were no qualms calling the Overland boring – everyone knew it was true.

Hamish sipped his goblet (he never did ask what was in them) and sighed sadly. "I was told that she went down fighting, and managed to save several men in the process of her demise." Hatter shone with a kind-of sad pride, that his Alice (did he just think that?) had given her life for others'. It was such an Alice way to go.

"How noble of her," The Queen said, also sadly. "If you don't mind my asking, though, you've never mentioned how she died." It was a touchy subject, really. No one liked to talk about it, and it seemed to be an unspoken rule that you never actually said that she had died. Mirana was the queen, though, and no one dared argue.

Hamish sighed. "I suppose I was going to have to mention it sooner or later—"

"Sooner, hopefully," the Hatter interrupted.

"—and it's only fair after the hospitality you've shown me." He took a deep, shaky breath, and began. "I've told you that Alice loved to explore. Well, after a rather embarrassing party at my estate," he dared not mention that he had asked for Alice's hand; he had no idea how the Hatter would react to that news. It was no secret to anyone but the man himself that he had more-than-platonic feelings for the late Champion. "She made arrangements with my father – the new owner of her late father's company – to travel to a faraway country and establish business there. My father agreed, and she set out the very next week.

"Everything was going well, we heard. Her mother and sister received letters from her, and my father received business documents signed by the new customers Alice managed to gain. About a year and a half after she left, we received a letter that she was to return home to London. She had fulfilled her hopes for China, and was ready for a new adventure. That was the last we heard from her." He paused him his story, only to find that he had begun to choke up. Hamish cleared his throat several times and took a sip from his goblet before continuing.

"We heard later that her ship, the Wonder, had been attacked by pirates. There were three survivors from the wreckage – the first mate, the chef, and a cabin boy – and they said that they wouldn't have made it back to their families if Alice hadn't been able to fend off several of the intruders long enough. They did mention that she knew how to wield a sword exceptionally well, and that makes sense now. Anyway, we all hoped that she was still alive, somewhere, having been taken hostage, or something. They told us that they had seen her stabbed and killed, though." There was a moment of silence as the two Underlandians took in the new information. The White Queen, ever the kindest, was the first to speak.

"How is her family? I vaguely remember you mentioning she had a sister, as well as her mother?" She asked quietly. Though she had wanted to know the circumstances of Alice's death herself, she know found that she wished she hadn't been told. Her question, however, only sparked more sadness in Hamish's expression.

"Oh, the Kingsleighs… or what's left of them." He sighed. "Her mother passed away from a stroke soon after Alice was pronounced… not with us any longer, and shortly after, her sister, Margaret, found that her husband, Lowell, had been cheating on her for a number of years. Poor Margaret divorced him, but she never was the same again. She's become somewhat of a spinster – she was close to her sister, and that sadness on top of hearing of her death took more than its share of a toll on her." He shook his head sadly and took another sip. Mirana sighed sadly, as well.

Hatter, who had been silent throughout almost the entire conversation, suddenly stood sharply. "'Scuse me, yer majesty. 'Amish." He then walked briskly from the room. Before he departed, however, Hamish was able to catch the orange – almost red – color of his eyes. It was going to take some getting used to, those changing eyes and accents, he decided.

Mirana only sighed. "Oh, Tarrant…" but he was already gone.

Immediately, Hamish realized his mistake. "I'm terribly sorry. I shouldn't have said all that in his pres—"

"He wanted to know as badly as I did; it's not your fault. The Hatter just… handles things differently than you and I." She interrupted as she stood. "Come, let us take a walk in the gardens. I have something I'd like to discuss with you." Hamish, still feeling guilty, obliged.

Hamish and Mirana walked through the palace gardens in silence for some time. The White Queen's expression kept changing from sadness to worry, from worry to anger, and from anger back to sadness. The redheaded lord followed closely behind, watching her. Finally he broke the suddenly-uncomfortable silence. "Your majesty, is something wrong?" he paused and caught himself. "I m-mean, other than the obvious predicament…"

She chuckled softly. "First, how many times must I ask you to call me Mirana?"

Hamish smiled. "At least once more, your majesty."

Mirana returned his smile, though it turned sad after a few moments. "And, to answer your question, there is something wrong, other than your news."

"Is there anything I can do?" he replied, worried.

"I don't believe so," she said. "Actually, your arrival came at such an unfortunate time." Hamish was about to apologize, but she cut him off. "It's not your fault; you didn't know about any of this."

"May I ask what is happening, or has happened?" Hamish inquired instead.

"It's a bit of a long story."

"I doubt I'm going anywhere any time soon." He said with a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. She smiled again in return, and began her tale.

"Many years ago, when my sister still ruled Underland, several groups of people managed to escape by boat to some of the islands out at sea. They formed new civilizations, of sorts, and managed to stay away from the wrath of her rule. Iracebeth found out about it, of course, but by the time she had, they people had built up defenses enough to fend off the ships of soldiers she sent to punish them. After several attempts, she eventually gave up and let them be. If anyone tried to escape to them, however, they were easily caught and beheaded. Eventually, people lost touch with these other islands, and most people today don't even know about the other peoples' existence.

"After I regained the crown, word somehow reached the other lands. We began receiving messages from them, and, eventually, ships started coming. It was okay at first; they were mostly filled with people wanting to reconnect with their homeland and such. Soon, they were filled with not only people, but also goods to trade. That wasn't the problem, however. As it turns out, there is a path through the sea into your world. Captains began capturing people from the Otherland and bringing them to their islands as slaves. It became such a lucrative business, that more and more people bought and sold the poor people. When she ships started coming here, they brought their slaves to sell, as well as other things.

"I'm having trouble enforcing these distant lands to cease their practices, mainly because they have been under their own rule for so long and refuse to listen to the Underland monarchy. I would like to avoid a repeat of the happenings under the Red Queen's rule, but there is little I can do but free what slaves I can as their ships arrive at our ports." Mirana stopped and sighed, before turning to Hamish. "I'm sorry about getting you mixed up in all this; we really are trying to get you home as soon as possible. Things have just been a little… chaotic, lately. Especially with the news of our much-loved Champion's demise."

Hamish was at a loss for words after the Queen's story, and he could only offer a weak, "I-I had no idea," in response. She continued on, however.

"That's not what I asked you out here for, though," she said, resuming her walk. "I know that things are very different in your world, but I wanted to do something here to honor Alice's life. I was hoping you could help me."

"You mean a funeral?"

"Is that what they're called up there? That sounds so… depressing, if you don't mind my saying so. People don't often die here in Underland, but when they do, there is a party thrown to honor their life. It's such a happy occasion, with dancing, food, and reminiscing. Everyone who ever knew that person comes to the party, of sorts, and brings their greatest memory of the deceased to be passed around. There are speeches about the person's life, and stories are shared. You know Alice better than most of us, so I had hoped that you would give a speech in her honor." She turned her head towards Hamish, who was beginning to tear up in a very un-manly manner. "If you don't wish to, no one will force you."

"No, no; I'd be honored to. It's just that funerals where I am from are meant to be very sad, and everyone mourns over the death of a person rather than the life they had. It sounds so very much better here." He replied, trying to hide a discreet sniffle.

"Then why are you about to cry?" Mirana asked, concerned.

Hamish laughed sadly. "They sound very Alice-like, these Life Ceremonies of yours." He replied simply. The Queen nodded, and, to Hamish's surprise, began to tear up also. In the time that he had been here, he had never seen the Queen show so much emotion that he had seen on their brief walk, much less cry.

"Oh, don't be sad," He said, taking a hesitant step forward in an awkward attempt at comforting her. "Alice wouldn't like it. She always said that crying never accomplished anything." This earned a sad laugh from the Queen, though Hamish had no idea why.

Before he could say anything more, Mirana dried her eyes and smoothed her skirts. "Yes, you're right. It's no use being sad. Come, let us head back; we've gone farther than I had originally planned." Hamish nodded, and, as he looked around, saw that they had, in fact, traveled far into the woods past the palace gardens.

They resumed walking – though in the opposite direction this time – and they soon came to a path. Mirana suggested they take it back instead of continued through the forest, and Hamish agreed readily. He wasn't use to this much nature, much less Underlanian nature. Soon the path exited the woods, and the pair found themselves in a clearing. Hamish noticed immediately that something was amiss, however.

The clearing they had found themselves in was the very same place that housed the broken windmill and the ridiculous tea table, though the latter was in such disarray that both became very concerned. What was once a long table fashioned of many smaller ones was now no more, as many of the tables were either strewn about, smashed, or both. All but a few of the mismatched china pieces were in pieces and scattered around the grass, and the stack of books that Hamish had been placed on during his initial visit were ripped to shreds. The chairs were in a similar state to the tables, and the tablecloths had suffered a fate much like that of the books.

"Wh-what happened here?" Hamish asked fearfully. Mirana shared his expression of utter shock. Suddenly, there was a loud crash from inside the windmill, and a chair suddenly soared from one of the top windows, only to smash on the ground. "My God…" Mirana, however, instantly rushed towards the house. "What are you doing?" He asked in disbelief, rushing after her.

"It's Tarrant," she replied, not looking back as she opened the door just in time to hear another large crash. "He's not thinking straight."

Hamish grabbed her arm forcefully to stop her, "You have no idea what his mental state is! He could hurt you!"

She wrenched her arm from his grip and continued into the ransacked house. "If we don't do something, he'll hurt himself—" there was another smash, "—and possibly others." With that, she raced up the stairs toward the yells and other noises, and Hamish, against his better judgment, followed.

AN: I am so so so so so sorry for the long wait! I promise the next chapter will be faster!! Thank you to all my loyal reviewers and readers, because I know I said that reviews brought faster chapters - which they still do - but things have been really crazy and... yeah, you guys probably don't want to hear my excuses. Anyways, you guys are so great, thank you so much for sticking with the story, whether your review or not!

Also, as an end note, the authoress never actually said whether Alice was really killed of or not. Just throwing that out there, so take it as you like.