Rated T for generally fluff, will be M later on.
Wow guys, I'm glad you liked the last chapter! Unless you didn't, in which case I apologize, and home this one is more to your liking. There's actual dialogue! You've probably noticed the major lack of dialogue up to this point; partly it's because there hasn't been much need yet, but also because I consider myself TERRIBLE at dialogue. Hopefully I did okay in this chapter! Question for y'all - should I get Alice to Underland next chapter, or draw it out a little longer? Leave a review telling me what you think! This chapter took a while to get the hang of, but I guess it worked out in the end (its actually the longest yet). Hope you enjoy!
sami1010220- I think it's cute too. His name is said in the movie, but only once, and she continues to call him Hatter, so I guess she missed it. Oh well, she'll find out eventually!
Life went on in Underland, much as it had before, only immeasurably better since the Frabjous Day, of course. Everyone was in high spirits. The White Queen threw balls and feasts often; the Mad Hatter and March Hare enjoyed their daily tea parties, often joined by Mallymkun; and the Tweedles did, well, whatever it was that they did. Hatter even began working for the queen again, making beautiful head-wear for all her various social functions. The White Rabbit did his best to keep everyone on schedule, and Chessur faded in and out as he pleased. Mentions of Alice the Champion, Slayer of the Jabberwocky, grew fewer and farther between, until hers became one of the old legends, replaced in popular conversation by newer and more interesting topics.
Tarrant hadn't thought about her in months, until one night he sat in his workshop, brainstorming new hats. He noticed a pile of blue fabric hanging out of a teapot; curious, he pulled it out to look at it. It was none other than the "dress" Alice had arrived in on her most recent trip. It was in reality her under-dress, but she'd been smaller at the time, and so it had covered her more completely. Until Tarrant had made her drink more shrinking potion, that is. He blushed slightly at the memory; after the Knave of Hearts had left, he'd opened the teapot, only to be met with a very barely dressed Alice. He hadn't really seen anything, but it had been awkward nonetheless.
Tarrant picked up the silky fabric and examined it more closely. It was a pale blue, with navy stripes. His mind already working, the Hatter grabbed his scissors and began snipping away at the cloth. His hands were a blur as he worked at his trade for a few solid hours; before he knew it, it was quite dark outside, and inside as well. He stood, stretching, and lit a couple of lanterns, before looking at his progress. A few added details, and he was finished.
It was a small top hat, covered in the stripey fabric, with a wide ribbon of icy blue lace for a band, more of the same coming down on either side, to be tied at the neck. There were a couple of feathers on the side as well, but they were small and trimmed, not too frilly. Tarrant was pleased with his work. It would suit... who? Well, Alice, he supposed, if she ever returned. For a moment, he felt the anger start to bubble up, but his heart wasn't really in it, and so he calmed back down. He knew why she had left, and he didn't blame her for it. So why the anger? Why make her a hat if she wasn't coming back? Why is a raven like a writing desk? There were too many questions, and no answers, and Tarrant's head was beginning to feel sore. He decided he must be tired from working all day, and went to bed, his mind still filled with riddles and puzzles.
It had taken much longer than expected for matters to be settled in China. There had been delay after delay, even after Lord Ascot himself had sailed out to aid Miss Kingsleigh. But finally, more than six months after leaving England, Wonder was on its way home, bearing an increasingly impatient young woman. Said young woman was currently pacing the deck, looking up to the sky periodically, as if looking for the much-needed wind.
The ship had been stuck for a day and a half; not long by sailor's standards, but to Alice it seemed an eternity. She was getting more and more annoyed by all the little bumps on her road home. First all the trouble in China, and now this! she thought irritably. She took a deep breath, sighing heavily, before checking her pocket watch. She smiled slightly as she looked at it; she had seen it in a small shop the day she was to leave China, and knew she had to have it. The craftsmanship was impeccable, but more importantly, it reminded her of her friends in Underland. Seeing it was just about time for tea, Alice headed towards the dining cabin.
Lord Ascot was already waiting, and he stood as she entered.
"Ah, Alice, I was just about to look for you. Our captain will regrettably be missing tea this afternoon; he was feeling a touch ill this morning, and is resting." He pulled Alice's chair out for her, and waited for her to be settled before sitting.
"I hope he feels better soon. Perhaps when the breeze returns, his spirits will as well," Alice replied as she stirred her tea, adding a sugar cube.
"Yes, well I think we'll all feel more at ease once we're moving again. At any rate, we're more than half way back to England, so it shan't be much longer. The sea is truly magnificent, but I still prefer terra firma myself." The two shared a light laugh, sipping their tea in silence for a bit.
"Do you think things will run smoothly setting up our end of the trade route to China and back?" Alice asked. She had learned much as an apprentice so far, but she still felt there was so much she didn't yet know. Lord Ascot nodded, swallowing a mouthful of tea.
"Yes, yes, I should assume so. China was the hard part, and that's behind us now, literally and figuratively. I would imagine we should be seeing a great deal of profit before next summer." Alice nodded, thinking.
"I must say, Miss Kingsleigh, that you have accomplished an amazing thing." He placed his hand on hers gently. "Your father would be immensely proud of you." Alice smiled broadly, touched. Over time since the dreaded non-engagement party, Lord Ascot had grown quite fond of Alice, seeing her as more of a daughter than a mere apprentice. Alice returned the familial feelings, seeing him as a step-father of sorts.
"Thank you, truly. It means a great deal to me to hear you say that. I've really only had two goals since finding my Muchness." Lord Ascot smiled; she had explained to him once, a few months back, about her Muchness, and in a vague way, about how she'd reclaimed it.
"Namely," she continued, "To achieve my father's dream, surpass it even; and to ensure my mother's continued comfort for the rest of her days. Once I've accomplished those, I'll be free to pursue my... personal aspirations." Alice hated not telling him the truth, but she knew it was necessary.
"My dear, it sounds as if you're planning on disappearing on us," Lord Ascot said quietly, his tone seeming light, but painted with underlying concern. Alice met his eyes, smiled sadly, and turned back to her tea, sipping slowly. She peeked over her teacup at him, and saw his silent acceptance of her silent confirmation. But he smiled, trusting that Alice truly did know what was best for herself.
It was tea time again. It was always tea time, wasn't it? No, that was before... But nonetheless, the Hatter sat at his table, sipping his tea. He was waiting for someone; Thackary? Nivens? Mally? No, it was someone else, but he couldn't quite remember who. As he waited, he began contemplating things that begin with the letter M. Mad, merry, marvelous, miraculous... misunderstanding... mortified... missing... moping... morbid... mortal... The Hatter's smile fell as a strange feeling crept over him. Who had he been waiting for? And why was this person taking so long? Perhaps something was amiss... The strange feeling got worse, as Tarrant began to worry. Had he said something, done something, to upset this person? Was that why they were late? It seemed important somehow. He didn't feel like he'd done anything wrong, but the strange feeling was beginning to feel like a guilty kind of feeling. He got up from the table, walking slowly at first, but picking up pace as he entered the woods. Not sure where he was going, he felt he had to find the person, and apologize, or explain, or something. If only he could remember who it was!
As he made his way through the woods, the guilt-like feeling began to feel more urgent. Tarrant also got the impression that it had been something silly, not in a humorous way, but more in the sense that he had been wrong about something that he had no business being wrong about. As to what, he still had no idea. Just then, he heard the sound of someone crying, not far ahead. He quickened pace, until the sound was just on the other side of a tree, but as he came around it, expecting to see the person he'd been searching for, he instead was met face to face with himself. A small mirror was hanging on the trunk of the tree, as if it was perfectly natural for it to be so.
Tarrant stared at his own reflection for a moment. The guilty feeling was mostly gone, receded to the very back of his mind, replaced bu curiosity. He reached out to touch the mirror's surface; it rippled slightly, but when the ripples reached the mirror's frame, the entire thing began to shake, gently at first, then more violently, until it fell to the ground. Hatter stepped back quickly in surprise. The mirror crashed against the forest floor, pieces scattering. He knelt down to look at the pieces, and saw not pieces of his reflection, as there should have been, but his whole face reflected in each jagged shard. At first glance, they were all the same, but as Tarrant continued to stare down at them, one by one they began to change. Some took on an enraged expression, eyes aflame, cheeks dark and sunken, teeth sharp and bared. Others began to weep, some quietly, some shaking with heart-wrenching sobs. A few lost all expression entirely, becoming vapid, empty shells devoid of any life. Each and every one was different, showing one negative emotion or another. Not one smiled, even the slightest bit. Then something else began to happen. The reflections began to grow, lifting out of the glass, becoming real.
Tarrant stood and backed away, fear gripping him by the throat. The other Hatters stepped out of the glass pieces and surrounded him before he could move. Terror washed over him freely now, leaving him speechless, breathless, and he fell to his knees, knowing that this was it. The Madness had come for him at last, never to leave. If only he hadn't been so silly, if only he hadn't quarreled with... with WHO? Who had he disagreed with? Where were they? Were they alright? WHY is a raven like a writing desk?!
Tarrant shot out of bed, screaming in the dark. His eyes were wide, and he was drenched with sweat. It took a few moments for him to realize where he was, and that he was safe. He tried to remember what his nightmare had been, but the harder he tried to grasp it, the faster it ran from him, like sand in a child's fist. After many more moments, his breathing and heart rate returned to normal (well, normal for him anyway). He laid back down, clutching his pillow tightly, knowing full well he wouldn't be getting any more sleep that night.