A/N Sorry about this but the chapter end was not to my liking before so I added more. I may go back to the other chapters but for now this one has been looked at. The next chapter is almost done so I will be posting it shortly.
Tarrant had begun his trade again as fast as was possible.
The White Queen had been patient with him but he had acted almost like a child, both happy at the prospect of working again and upset that the rooms were taking so long to build and furnish.
Everyday he would ask if his new rooms were prepared, everyday she would give him the same answer of almost. He would then look dejected with her answer as if just by asking the rooms would be completed.
He would then turn away from her and walk slowly away with a small pout on his features. She understood his enthusiasm, encouraged it since his mind seemed to be only interested in the completion of his rooms and not Alice.
What she didn't know was that he did think of Alice the moment after she said almost to him. He would always think about the way the White Queen seemed both exasperated and pitying all at the same time.
He had at this point convinced himself that Alice pitied him, she had almost the same look as the Queen when she looked at him during one of his rants. Sure they both calmed him down but the pitying look was still there and he didn't want anyone's pity.
Then he would think to himself that the only reason the White Queen wanted him to make her hats was because she pitied him. He would begin to get angry at the thought of her doing that, but he was always able to calm himself with the thought of making hats again. He did miss it.
When the rooms he was to use both for work and for living were complete he had completely immersed himself in his work.
He made any kind of hat design that came into his mind; big ones, small ones, feathered, ones with ribbons, some with gems, others of satin. He was never at a loss for material since anything he asked for he received.
The White Queen once again took to wearing hats and every now and then Tarrant would think she only did because she pitied him, but then she would say that she absolutely loved them and the way she said it made him think otherwise.
He worked so much that many times he would forget to stop either to eat or sleep. The White Queen worried that he did it on purpose, she really didn't put it past him that he would torture himself in such a way. He just blamed himself for too much; that day, that he was mad, Alice and anything else he could think of even if it had nothing to do with him.
One day when she had been taking a stroll outside she had heard shouting and a crash and her intuition told her it was Tarrant. He would sometimes knock things over in his haste to keep his hands synced with his ideas and he often spoke to himself. She found herself wondering when the last time was that he had gone outside.
She went up to his rooms to see if he would walk with her in the gardens, just to get him away for a little while. She knocked gently on the door and heard another crash come from behind it.
"One moment," a muffled voice called. There sounds of more things falling and begin shoved aside and finally he opened the door.
The room behind him was a mess and she wondered how it was at all possible for him to find anything.
She let the thought go and looked at Tarrant, he was disheveled more than usual; his hair even more wild, his clothes wrinkled, under his eyes even pinker from lack of sleep.
She shook her head in disappointment and said, "Tarrant I think it's time you took a break. Come take a walk with me in the garden. It's too nice a day to be inside."
He smiled at her and said, "If I stop I will think and I don't want to think right now. Down that road bad things wait."
He left the door open as he retreated into the room, tripping over what ever cluttered the floor.
The White Queen picked up her skirt and tried as best as she could to avoid stepping on anything or tripping over it.
"Tarrant a day off wont kill you…"
"But it will allow me to think…about everything I don't want to…"
"You have to face all these demons that you seem to keep inside you one day Tarrant. When you do, you won't feel or act like this."
He spun around at her with the rage beginning to rise in him, "What do you know about my demons?"
She did not want to make him angry so she didn't push the matter anymore, "Just come for a walk with me."
"Thank you but I would much rather finish what I'm working on…"
He began to cut the fabric he would need for his latest creation and ignored the White Queen as he once again became engrossed in his work.
She sighed and went on, "When will you allow yourself to think of Alice?"
He sucked in a breath as he inadvertently poked himself with a pin. He immediately put the wounded finger his mouth, he tasted blood and made a face.
"I will not think of her because down that road bad things wait…."
She looked at him sympathetically and he scowled as she said, "There is no way for me to help you not feel misery at her leaving, no potion I can make that will make the hurt less. But there is always hope, always Tarrant. Why can't you let yourself hope that she might come back to Underland? To you?"
"There is no hope, no shining beacon, no certainty that she will come back to Underland or me. And who can blame her? There is nothing here for her…nothing…nothing at all. We only seem to use her every time she comes here…even I am guilty of that…" he was trying hard to keep all the anger and hurt at bay but he never could hide his feelings.
"How did you use her?"
"….I just feel like I did….she was able to help me…."
"And you helped her but…you fell in love with her didn't you….and you don't know about her feelings since you never asked…" it was more a statement then a question.
He looked at her with eyes burning orange red, the Scottish accent thick, "Well it doesn't matter now does it? She chose! I'm sure she is playing with someone else's heart right now! Someone who is not mad like me! Who can offer her the world!"
The Queen looked at him in shock that he would say such a thing, that he would think so little of Alice.
"Tarrant I am tired of telling you that you are not mad," she could feel her own temper rising and she was trying very hard to keep it in check, "If you keep saying it then it must be true!" She was trying to keep her breathing under control but when he acted like this it just aggravated her to no end.
"I grow tired of this! Yes Alice made a choice but you have no idea what she felt or could be feeling right now since you never asked or told her your own feelings! Not everyone can read you!"
She turned on her heel before she did something she would regret later and left him to think about what she had said, if he even decided to.
He picked up the closest object and threw it across the room with a satisfying crash. He yelled at his reflection in the mirror as if he could scare himself away. He picked up something else and hurled it at the mirror, shattering it into a thousand pieces.
He saw a thousand faces looking at him, he saw a thousand set of red eyes burning at him, he saw a thousand reasons to hate himself. The more he looked at the person in the shards the more he began to feel the weight of what must be the world. His eyes slowly returned to their green, eyes that were now brimming with tears.
He sank to his knees and held himself up with his hands. He absentmindedly brushed the shards of glass out of the way not wanting to see himself anymore. The tears fell onto his bloody hands as he thought How could anyone think I'm not mad?
The Queen doesn't think so…and neither does Alice….
Do not say her name!
Fine what shall I call her then?
Do not speak of her!
But she is a part of you…
Not anymore.
But she is! She helped you in so many ways.
And yet still she left! Why? Because I wasn't enough? Because she loved someone else?
I don't think either of those…
Then it was because I am mad and she only said I wasn't to try and make me feel better.
But it did! Why cant you just be happy that no one thinks you are mad?
But if you think yourself mad doesn't that make you mad?
I grow tired of this like the Queen. You need to stop pitying yourself and deal with the fact that Alice left. The Queen did say there was the chance she would come back.
She did…
So there you go! No one would come back to someone who was mad!
You have a point….
Now go get your hands fixed so you can work tomorrow.
He picked himself up from where he knelt on the ground, avoiding as much of the broken mirror as he could. As he walked out the door one of the servants stood waiting to go in and clean up the mess he had made. She curtsied to him and he nodded.
The girl knew not to touch anything else but the broken mirror, somehow Tarrant always knew when his things had been moved since there was a method to his madness. She had once made the mistake of moving things to their "proper" place and Tarrant had become angry the moment he went into the pristine room. He could not find anything since none of it was where he left it. He quickly began to tear things down and put them back in order when she had come back to his room with his afternoon tea.
He had turned on her so quickly she almost dropped the tray but somehow Tarrant had caught it just as she was about to let go of it. He had placed it on the table and then told her never to touch his things again. She would know a mess that needed to be cleaned up when she saw it.
The mirror was one of those messes and she began to sweep up the pieces and would have someone remove the frame later and bring in a new mirror.
Tarrant knew the girl would only touch the mirror and it was why he had willingly left when he saw her there, the girl knew about his room.
He walked down the long corridor of the palace that would eventually lead him to the infirmary. Now that he had calmed down his hands had begun to throb with pain, the blood already starting to dry as fresh blood continued to run. Now that he looked at the damage he could not believe the severeity of it, there were huge gashes, some were deep and some were no more than paper cuts. He thought he even saw glints of the glass in his flesh but he wasn't sure. All he wanted to do was to make the pain stop.
He began to walk faster, nearly knocking over half a dozen servants as he went. By the time he had reached the infirmary, most of the shallow wounds had stopped bleeding but the larger ones had not.
One of the nurses turned from what she was doing when she saw Tarrant enter out of the corner of her eye. When she saw his bloody hands she immediately rushed over and began to assess the damage.
She shook her head as she said, "Follow me."
He obeyed her, following her into one of the rooms where there was a table and two chairs. She closed the door and motioned for him to sit. She began to collect the supplies she would need and then set to work cleaning his hands of the dried blood, disinfecting the wounds, which made Tarrant hiss in pain, taking out the glass that was imbedded in most of the bigger wounds and then bandaging him up.
For the most part Tarrant sat still but sometimes the nurse would touch his hands in the wrong way and pain would course through them. He tried not to show his discomfort but he couldn't help sucking in a breath whenever this happened and the nurse would work more delicately around his broken flesh.
When she was done she got up to put the supplies away, Tarrant rose and made to leave but before he could she said, "Hold on a sec. I don't want you to use your hands too much for a few days."
He opened his mouth to say something but she held up a hand warding the comment off, "Don't argue with me. You have to keep the bandages on and clean or your hands won't heal right. I want you to come back tomorrow so I can look at them again and change the bandage. Think you can do that?"
He nodded in reply and then walked away wondering what he was going to do for the rest of the day if he could not work on his trade.
Then he remembered that the White Queen had said it was a beautiful day outside, something he never seemed to notice since he would always lose track of time in his rooms and for the most part never knew if it was day or night. It was better for him when he lost himself in such a way since all he thought about was the work that had to be completed.
He could feel his mind wandering now even as he felt the tingling of fatigue coming to the forefront. When was the last time I slept? He couldn't for the life of him remember and he didn't worry himself about trying to recall that small insignifacnt detail. He decided he would take the White Queen's offer and go to the gardens, maybe she would be out there and he could walk with her.
He reached the huge double doors that led to the gardens of the White Queen's palace. They were open letting the cool summer air blow through the palace. He felt the wind caress his face, he closed his eyes and reveled in the feeling. It had been so long since he had gone outside he had almost forgotten how wonderful a place it was. The sun shone off the crystal clear pool where fish darted in and out the leaves. The flowers were blooming and letting off their fragrance, mingling together in a most pleasing way that made him even more drowsy.
The birds sang in the tree tops as they watched him walk below them towards a stone bench that was positioned in such a way that one could see almost all of the garden when you sat on it. He did so now and closed his eyes again when he heard the rustling of skirts and the patter of feet walking towards him. He smiled at the familiar sound of it all but when he opened his eyes the smile fell.
She was haloed by the sun, making her face indistinguishable and for a second he thought she had somehow returned but it was quickly drowned when the White Queen moved and was no longer a sillohuette.
"I see you took my offer anyway."
"I realized I needed to get out for a while…I haven't in a long time have I?"
"No. I'm surprised you even remembered what the outside world looked like. Do they hurt terribly?"
She gently picked up one his hands and stroked the bandage. He took his hand back as politely as he could with out yanking it away.
"They feel better but the nurse said I couldn't use them for a few days."
"Then you should use those days to rest. When was the last time you slept?"
"I asked myself the same thing not too long ago…"
"Did you have an answer?"
He shook his head and heard her sigh, "Tarrant you cant keep living like this. I thought after the first few months…"
"What?" he interrupted, his temper flaring already, "That I would forget?"
"No…that you would have let it go a little more…"
"I don't know how…"
She looked at his forlorn face that was draining of whatever anger had been building but a moment before. He became angry so easily these days.
"Come, let's not dwell on it anymore right now. We should be enjoying this fine day."
He looked about the garden and silently agreed with her, this was not a place for sorrow but for joy, a joy he felt himself being filled with.
"This is a soothing place…" he said to no one inparticular.
She had to agree with him, she had made sure the garden could be a place to come to and forget ones troubles at least for a little while. She was hoping that Tarrant would make a habit of coming here everyday even though she knew it was very unlikely.
The two sat next to each other, soaking in the garden. She could see Tarrant fighting off the urge to close his eyes, he was exhausted. She knew about the unorthodox hours he kept but there was not much she could do, she would not command him to sleep but if he continued in this way he would end up killing himself.
"Tarrant," he started at the sudden noise but quickly overcame it.
"Mmm," she could hear the fatigue in his voice now.
"Tarrant if you need to sleep then sleep."
"Not right now…it's too pretty outside…" his voice was getting softer and softer as he spoke.
She could see his head drooping down and finally his eyes closed, his breathing becoming rhythmic alerted her that he truly was asleep. She smiled to herself and was thankful that he had finally given in.
She let him sleep but stayed where she was to make sure no one would disturb him until he was ready to wake up.
He was running. Running as fast as his legs would carry him and yet he was going nowhere.
The huge shadow behind him was gaining fast and still his legs would not obey. Why was she chasing him anyway? There was no reason to. What did she want him for?
There was no one to help him. He gave up trying to run and turned to face the shadow. It had no distinguishable shape other than vaguely resembling a human. Whether female or male he could not tell.
He looked up at where he supposed the creatures face should be and he heard the beginnings of a deep-throated laugh coming from the shadow. Soon it filled the whole space and he found himself covering his ears.
Even with his ears covered the laugh was still painfully loud. It stopped suddenly and now the shadow spoke, still with a booming voice that seemed to shake the very fabric of reality.
"Did you think you could escape me? I am all encompassing. No one can outrun me. I always get what I want and right now I want you little man."
Tarrant was frightened and could not say why, this thing in front of him filled him with forboding.
"Who are you?"
"I go by many names, all created by the voices of man. I go by Valdis, Morana, Thanatos, Libitina, Azrael, Freyja, Tuoni, Anubis, Death. My true name is unknown to your kind and I will keep it that way for as long as I can."
Tarrant swallowed, why was Death saying he wanted him.
Death chuckled again as heard Tarrant's thoughts, "I want you because it is your time, well almost your time. I have come mainly to prepare you for the inevitable."
"I'm going to die…" he said incredulously.
"Everything dies, even the mightiest King will meet his fate someday, I am that fate. There is no escape from me. All paths lead to me, the journey is the only thing that differs. Your journey is nearing its end."
All of a sudden Tarrant felt himself falling through space, there was nothing to stop his fall and he was quickly approaching what he believed to be the bottom.
Tarrant jumped awake trembling still sitting next to the White Queen who was looking at him with worry in her eyes and all over her face.
He swallowed, his mouth all of a sudden very dry. He was breathing very heavily as if he had just run to get here, the sweat was dripping down his brow and he could feel it in the small of his back.
"Are you okay? You were mumbling in your sleep about dieing…"
He looked at her with wide eyes, afraid to tell her of what he remembered from the dream.
With halting breath he said, "I'm fine….just a dream…"
"Sometimes dreams are very powerful…"
He looked at the ground, the ground that was teaming with life both above and below. None of it was permanent though, what was the point if nothing was permanent? Why did things continue to live and thrive when the end result was always the same?
The White Queen put a soothing hand on Tarrant's shoulder, gently moving it a circular pattern. He liked the feeling but he couldn't stay here with these thoughts in his head.
He got up and blindly walked away, further into the garden to be alone. He knew that was probably not the best idea in his current state but he just couldn't deal with the White Queen right now, how she always seemed to look at the bright side of things. She would try to comfort him and he didn't want to be comforted at the moment, he wanted to think this through himself.