(A/n) Thank you all so much for the feedback, it helps to keep me motivated.
The excerpt of the poem below is written by Edgar Allen Poe, A Dream within a Dream I believe is the title. It inspired me while I was writing and felt it should be a part of the chapter. Thanks again everyone.
Chapter 10
.oOo.
"Take this kiss upon the brow,
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow-
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream…"
.oOo.
The White Queen had let the way to the castle library and she opened one of the intricately carved double doors, her dark eyes already scanning the nearby shelves. She appeared to be searching for something but no one felt brave enough to ask her what it was. She had an intense look of concentration on her face as she searched the bookcases to the right of the doors. She glided her way up the aisle until she spotted a maroon leather book on the shelf half way up the last case. She stopped, the Hatter, Helen, the cat and raven, stopping behind her. She reached up to grab the book and pulled it down, her slender fingers running over the cover that bore the symbol of a four sided diamond.
The others didn't say a word, save for Helen, who was whispering a rather chilling rhyme about a dream within a dream. She was leaning against the Hatter, her arms encircled around his left one. He was finding it hard to concentrate on what the White Queen was doing, not when dear Helen was so close to him. Her whispering was sending chills along his skin, a sensation that was both pleasing and irritating. He managed to glance down at her, catching the sight of her lips moving as she whispered her rhyme. The brim of her dark blue top hat hid her eyes from view and the Hatter wanted very much to see those dark orbs.
"Here we are," said the Queen, who had opened the book towards the middle of the thick volume. She had placed her finger on the page as she glided her way past the group toward one of the several elegant, white reading tables that rested in the middle of the library. She set the book down and tapped her finger on the page. "This is the record for the royal families of Underland."
The others had gathered round the table and leaned over to get a better look at the open page. On the page, there was a symbol of a three leaf clover, normally called a club in a deck of cards. There were sketches of various men and women within in the book as well as their names. Toward the bottom of the page was a final entry, a sketching of a pretty woman with the name written in elegant script: Alyiona of Bayar Malay, Yellow Queen of Clubs.
"Alyiona governs the land of Queast." The Queen frowned lightly, a thoughtful look appearing in her dark eyes. "I cannot believe I had forgotten about her… With all of trouble that Iracabeth had caused over the years, I did not think to look up my only cousin."
"I have not heard of this Queen of Clubs before." The Hatter studied the sketching of the Queen's cousin and then looked at her in question, shadows appearing beneath his electric eyes. "Where was she during those dark times? Why did she not help us?" His voice had dropped down to his native burr, his temper rising slightly. There had been a queen in Queast, a queen who could have helped the White Queen regain her crown. All those lives that could have been saved…
"The Queen of Summer renounces her throne…" said Helen in a sing-song voice that cracked terribly, her hold on his arm tightening as she rubbed her marred cheek against his sleeve. The shadows were instantly gone from beneath his eyes as he looked down in surprise. Helen was staring up at him and she was smiling as leaned in closer. The closeness of her and the sight of those dark eyes helped to stem the flow of his temper. He could only watch her as she looked away, her smile fading slightly as she nodded to the book. "The Lion and the Unicorn do fight for the crown…"
"Alyiona, she is-" The Queen paused, trying to find the right words to describe her cousin from Queast. "She felt it was never her place to become a monarch. Though she is the Yellow Queen, and continues to be so, she has never recognized her title. Since she does not take the title of queen, there are skirmishes going on in Queast over who should govern the land." She looked at Helen, who had gone on humming in her off tune way. It was eerie how much Helen knew of Underland. She may have been mad but she was very aware. Now that she had gained a piece of her shadow back, she was becoming clearer in her riddles. It was true that the Yellow Queen had renounced her throne and because of that, the land of Queast was not as peaceful as the majority of Underland had been led to believe.
"These skirmishes have been going on since before Horunvendush Day." The Queen studied the sketch of her cousin and heaved a gentle sigh. "She could not have helped us when her own people were so divided."
"Why does she not simply regain her throne?" asked Chessur , his luminous green eyes lighting with curiosity. He had heard of the skirmishes going on in Queast but he had not thought it was because of their very own monarch renouncing her throne.
The White Queen looked at the cat and shook her head, a sad smile playing on her dark rouged lips. "I could not tell you Chessur. Whatever her reasons are, she would be the only one to explain them properly." She turned her gaze to the mad couple who stood next to her, noting how close Helen was to the Hatter and how the Hatter had such a look of concern on his pale face as he studied her. She could not help but smile at the sight of them; they seemed to compliment each other well for some odd reason. She couldn't help but envy the open affection that Helen bore for Tarrant.
She glanced down at the book and ran her fingers over the page of her relatives, sighing softly. "Unlike myself, Alyiona never swore to never harm any living thing. She would have a more intimate knowledge of exactly how Helen had been split." She paused at this and looked back at Chessur. "I do believe she might be able to help Helen. If her shadow had been shattered as it said it had, than Alyiona would know where to locate the other pieces."
"Well then, it seems that our next destination would be to Queast." Chessur let loose a huge yawn, his fur rippling as he stretched. "I, for one, could do well with a good night's sleep. I fear this journey will not be a pleasant one, considering what is waiting for us outside these walls."
At the sound of Chessur's inclusion, the Hatter glanced up at his old friend in surprise, his lime green eyes studying the cat as if he had never seen him before. "Our journey?" He was trying his best to ignore the sudden thump of his heartbeat. Helen's nearness was not helping him concentrate on the conversation at hand, not when she was continuously rubbing her cheek against his arm. He didn't mind the closeness to be honest, he was enjoying the attention just a bit too much for his own good though. He swallowed back the lump that had formed in his throat as he focused his attention on Chessur. "You mean to come with us?"
Chessur gave the Hatter a very sly grin in response, his luminous eyes flicking toward Helen, who was now leaning against the Hatter as quiet as a mouse. Her eyes were closed and, were it not for the slight movements of her lips indicating she was murmuring to herself, one would have thought she had fallen asleep. "I don't feel comfortable with the thought of you journeying alone with our Helen. With those shadow creatures following her, I doubt you'll fair well against them. You have such poor evaporating skills after all…" He flicked his tail and rolled onto his back, his grin growing. "Besides, it is very improper to leave such a lovely young woman alone with one such as yourself Tarrant. She should not be without a chaperone."
A faint touch of a shadow appeared beneath the Hatter's eyes, a hint of red turning his green eyes a faint shade of orange. He understood what the cat had implied and he didn't like the thought. What did the Cheshire cat think he would do? Ravish the Mad Helen? He would never consider it, he may have been half mad himself but he was still a gentleman. He had been raised to be a proper gentleman of the court after all.
Before the Hatter could come back with reply that would have set the cat's thoughts straight, dear Helen broke through the awkwardness with her usual madness. "A dream, a dream, my slippers for a dream…"All eyes settled on her as her head began to droop; her smaller, very faint shadow following her move. "Why travel by horse? We must go by rail though a hat is quickest… Has anyone seen my pillow? It flew out the window before I could give it a bath…"
A choking sound followed after this statement and everyone looked to find that the White Queen was trying in vain to hold down her giggles. The Hatter smiled at that as the Queen closed the book and picked it up.
"I think we should have dinner and then retire for the evening. It has been a very trying day for us all." Her voice was thick with mirth, her dark eyes sparkling with silent laughter. Helen had continued to complain about her pillow flying loose about the castle and it being so terribly naughty for missing its bath. "We'll discuss your plans for travel in the morning. It is a long journey to Bayar Malay-"
"Avast! My pillow has been caught by the sheets… Naughty, naughty sheets…"
A very unladylike snort escaped the Queen this time and she clasped a hand over her mouth to stifle the noise. The Hatter was laughing by this time, a laugh of pure amusement, as he noted how much in vain the White Queen fought her laughter. The Cheshire cat grinned more so than usual while the raven, who had watched the entire exchange with wide eyes, could only shake its head. Whatever the reasons for her madness, Helen had brought Mirana of Marmoreal to laughter, which was a wonderful thing indeed…
.oOo.
Dinner had been a wonderfully mad and amusing affair that night. Helen had somehow mistaken a fork for a comb and had turned to the Hatter, who sat beside her. She had then proceeded to comb the Hatter's mad orange locks with it and managed to get it tangled in the frazzled waves. It took some time but she had gotten it loose, much to the disappointment of Chessur, who had been howling with laughter the entire time. The Queen did not fair any better and had to excuse herself from the table, though she looked close to breaking down in laughter at any moment.
The Hatter, who had not been amused as his old friend, had taken the cutlery from Helen's place at the table and moved it away from her. He thought he may have been seeing things but he could have sworn that he saw Helen laughing at him from the corner of his eye. However, when he glanced at her, she was staring straight ahead and singing to herself in that terrible off key voice. He knew that he was mad but he wasn't mad enough to be seeing things…
All in all, it had been a surprisingly funny end to a strange day. While Helen and the Hatter had gone to retire for the evening, Chessur had gone on to search for the Queen. He found her in the library, sitting at one of the tables. She was looking over the maroon book that bore her family tree. She had such a look of concentration on her face as she flipped a certain page back and forth. She had two other books lying on beside her arm, a dark blue book that Chessur did not like the sight of, and a smaller, black book that bore the symbol of a spade.
"Your Majesty?"
The Queen glanced up in surprise, her dark eyes searching and finding the cat floating beside a bookcase to her left. She sighed heavily and beckoned the cat closer, her dark eyes falling back down to the open book. "There is something wrong here Chessur." She pointed to the page she was reading and pointed to the next page. Chessur floated closer to the Queen, looking over her shoulder as she ran her finger down the next page.
"Something is missing. I'm sure of it. My great grandmother had several children, my great uncles…" She flipped the pages back and pointed to the sketch of a rather sappy looking man with a beard. "The Old Red King of Hearts, he didn't have any children of his own so he had named one of my uncles as an heir." She flipped the page back again and tapped on another sketch, this one of a man who had a rather round, jolly face. "The Old Yellow King of Clubs, Alyiona's grandfather." She moved back to the page she had been studying and tapped on the picture of a kind man who bore a large mustache. "My grandfather, the Old White King of Diamonds…" She moved to the next page and shook her head, confusion evident on her ivory features. "There is supposed to be more to the family but there is nothing. It just goes on about the rest of the line of the White kings and queens." She looked up at Chessur and shook her head. "There is a family line missing somewhere. I just can't recall which one it was…"
Chessur's grin faded slightly as he studied the pages and then looked at the Queen. "Do you think it might have something to do with Helen and her raven?"
The Queen closed the book and looked at the other two books, her frown growing deep. "I'm not sure… Perhaps but I cannot say." She took in a breath and closed her eyes. "It is beyond my skills. There is something happening but it feels like something else is blocking the path toward the answers…"
Chessur did not respond to that, he stared at the dark book that bore the silver spade, his luminous eyes growing thoughtful. So the Queen could feel it as well, the familiarity that Helen had brought about reached deeper than a sense of déjà vu. There was something deliberate happening and Helen was the key to unraveling the mystery.
.oOo.
Flowing, bright red waves…
"Tarrant…"
A pair of pleading green eyes…
"Tarrant…"
Fire burning brighter and brighter against the shadows of the night…
Screams filling the air and a pair of hands reaching out to nothing…
"You've forgotten… please remember… Muchness…"
The Hatter awoke in the middle of the night, his room dark with shadows though moonlight streamed in through the large windows. It was that dream again, that dream of fire and the letter M… Why could he not remember all of it when he awoke?
He ran a hand over his face as he sat up, tossing the blankets aside. He had slept in only his pants this time; it was far more comfortable than his full clothing. They were to be traveling to Queast in the morning and it wouldn't do to have wrinkled clothing…
Why was he having these strange dreams?
His bare feet settled on the cold marble tile, his mad green gaze studying the pale flesh beneath the moonlight. His form was athletically slim, the taunt muscles of his arms and chest often hidden beneath his clothing. The dusting of pale red curls on the center of his chest added to the masculine allure. One would not have thought such a form would be on one such as the Hatter. Alas, not many had known of the dear Hatter's upbringing in the wild hills of Witzend as a proud member of the Hightopp clan. He had been more than a hatter; he had been trained to be a warrior as well, once upon a forgotten time…
Tap, tap, tap…
The Hatter glanced up at the sound that echoed through the silence. He looked at the windows, thinking something was tapping against the glass. There was nothing but moonlight and the shadows of trees.
Tap, tap, tap…
His wandering eyes caught the sight of Erom, the raven, perched on the headboard of his bed. It was watching him with a single dark eye, its ebony feathers as smooth as silk. The Hatter's electric eyes studied the bird, figuring that it was the one who was making the tapping noise. "Oh, it's you," he said, his gaze dropping back down to the floor. "I'm afraid I'm not one for good company at the moment. You might want to find Chessur…"
Tap, tap, tap…
The Hatter glanced up, thinking that the bird had wanted to say something to him. Helen should have been asleep by now; it could speak when she was asleep. The raven said nothing though and the Hatter noticed that it was not the one tap, tap, tapping. The tapping was coming from his bedroom door. The raven continued to study the Hatter before glancing at the door, obviously knowing who it was that was knocking.
Throwing a confused glance to Erom, the Hatter got to his feet and walked to the door, his feet slapping against the cold tiles. He placed a bandaged hand upon the wood, his stained fingers looking dark in the moonlight. Who could be calling this late at night? He waited, listening, but he could hear nothing out in the corridor. The tapping sounded again, a gentle tap of knuckles against wood.
Confusion welling within him, he placed his hand upon the door handle and turned it. He opened the door a crack and looked out, thinking that there would be no one there. Chessur was never one for sleeping so late at night and was fond of causing mischief. It wouldn't have surprised him if the cat's wide grin would be seen floating somewhere along the ceiling.
What greeted him was not a floating grin but Helen, standing all alone in the torch lit corridor in nothing more than a white robe and nightgown. The pure white of her gown stood out in stark contrast to her olive skin. Her tangled dark curls were as before, loose and completely wild, they formed a dark shadow about her marred face. Her arms were covered by the long sleeves of a silky robe though her hands were bare. She almost looked as she had when she first came upon the clearing.
"Helen?" The Hatter opened the door a wider and glanced out into the corridor. It was empty save for the woman, who was staring at him with a blank look on her marred face. He looked at her, a gentle frown tugging the corners of his lips. "What…? Why are you here?"
Helen shook her head, her dark eyes looking past him toward the large windows of his room. She looked at him and reached out to him, a small hand resting against his pale chest. "Shadows… Little dream… The fire burns…"
He had stiffened at the feel of her warm palm against his bare chest, his electric green eyes studying her beneath the light of the torches. There were shadows beneath her eyes, the haunting look in those dark orbs a telling sign that whatever dark memories that plagued her were running rampant. She moved closer to him and shook her head again, her gaze focused on the sight of her skin looking like a shadow when compared to his pale flesh. "A dream within a dream…" She looked up at him, her other hand reaching up to gently brush across the pale flesh of his cheek. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice growing thick with emotion. "Memories, lost by time…" She shook her head once more and suddenly wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace. "I'm sorry… Sorry… Forgive me… My fault…"
The Hatter had stumbled forward in surprise from the sudden closeness of her, her body pressing itself tightly against his own. He was acutely aware that there was nothing more than bits of fabric between them and he reached up to gently grab her arms. "Forgive you?" He pulled her arms down and her head moved, her dark curls brushing against his neck. Had she always been this tiny? He had not been fully aware of it until now; she barely stood above his shoulder.
She did not say anything but stood on her tip toes, pressing her lips warmly against his neck, right where his pulse beat so strongly. He had not released her arms and he simply stood there, his eyes gently closing at the feel of her lips against his skin. Warmth spread through him, warmth that was so wonderful and so familiar. He had not felt this in so long, this strong pull toward another, not since Alice had gone…
"Please forgive me Tarrant…" Her voice, a soft murmur that was tight with emotion, sent a pleasant shiver across his skin. It took him a moment to realize that she had spoken his name, his true given name. He opened his eyes and pulled back slightly to look at her. Her dark eyes were swimming with tears and the torn look on her marred face sent alarm bells ringing in his head. There was no madness in her eyes now; the clarity was there, the clarity that came so fleetingly to her.
"Helen?" He was unsure of how to speak to her, not when she was like this. She was remembering something, he was sure of it. "Tell me what it is…" He pulled her arms down and shifted his grip, his fingers holding firmly to her shoulders.
She did not respond, she simply watched him with intense sadness on her face. Her hands moved, hesitant at first and then with earnest. The raw flesh of her fingers danced across the pale flesh of his cheeks, under the shadowed smudges of his mad eyes and into his tangled, orange waves. "Forgotten in the shadows… It will be remembered…" She framed his face in her hands and pulled his head down. Her lips touched his, a bittersweet touch that made the Hatter's heart thud hard against chest.
His lips responded, unsure and curious, his hold on her shoulders growing firmer as he pulled her closer against him. It lasted for just the briefest of moments and it was in that moment that he had forgotten the madness, his and hers. He was only aware of how warm her lips were and how right they felt pressed against his own. Something had shifted into place then, an internal click that shocked through the both of them.
Helen was the first to break the kiss and she pulled away from him completely, leaving him staring at her with a stunned expression on his face. His bushy brows came together, his electric eyes studying the pained expression on her face. "Helen?"
She raised a hand to her lips, her fingers dancing just above the skin that had turned pink from their unexpected kiss. "Sorry… so sorry… Please forgive me…" She took one step back and then another. "Nevar more… Little Dream…" She whirled on her heel and ran up the corridor, her slippers barely making a sound on the tile.
The Hatter stared after her as she disappeared around a corner, completely confused as to what had happened. He studied the empty corridor before he turned to look in his room, catching the eye of the raven, who had witnessed the strange encounter. It said nothing to the man, could not even if it tried. It simply shook its head, a look of warning in its dark eyes, before it faded from view in a plume of gray black smoke.
The Hatter stared at the headboard, his frown growing as the confusion settled deeper in him. He had no idea what had happened just then with Helen, had no idea why she was at his door or why she had kept apologizing for something she would not or could not explain. Was there something she was aware of that he was not?
He closed the door, shutting out the light from the corridor and casting his bedroom back in darkness. The strange dreams from these past two nights, the strange familiarity that Helen brought with her since she had arrived… It was all too confusing to try and make sense of. It did not help that he was growing attached as well; his attraction to her was what surprised him the most. She must have felt something too, those strange forces that were drawing her to him despite her madness. It was all tied together, though in a tangled mess that most likely resembled Helen's hair…
There were many questions and no clear answers that he could find or make sense of. It was beyond him at the moment. He sighed heavily and moved away from the door, intent on trying to get some sleep. They were to awaken bright and early for their journey to Queast. However, at the moment, the Hatter felt that sleep would be avoiding him for the rest of the night…
