The Madness of Cadmea, or The Lunatic Couturier
FIVE
"You never really stop loving someone - you just try to learn to live without them." - Anonymous
The 'villain' did indeed return to Wonderland well over a year later, though one could never really tell time in Wonderland.
Jefferson was in hiding at the moment, and the first place he'd thought of going was Wonderland of all places - but at least this time, he'd remembered to pick up his hat before going through the mirror.
He was fortunate enough to avoid the giant caterpillar's attention as he skirted its giant mushroom, and was surprised to discover how well he recalled the path back to clearing where'd he'd met the silver-haired sprite.
He'd been on the run for a few days, filthy and tired and hungry, and he staggered into the now-flower-carpeted clearing with every intent of drinking the stream dry - until he saw his conquest resting cross-legged and barefoot in the moss under a tree, a lap-full of sewing receiving her attention. She wore the same black dress he'd last seen her in, but now wore long, tight fitting, laced black gauntlets that covered her scars from wrist to elbow.
"Ah...hello," he called uncertainly, and the girl looked up at him and simply smiled.
"J-Jefferson! You came back!" she stood up, her sewing falling to the ground unheeded. She flew forward on her toes, hair streaming behind her, and threw herself into his arms.
Jefferson was surprised at her reaction, but felt overwhelmingly compelled to bury his nose in her wild hair and hugged her back all the same - she felt different somehow, softer.
"What is your name?" he asked her, tightening his hold.
The girl tolerated his hold for a long moment, then stepped back and stared at him.
Jefferson shifted uncomfortably, recalling he was a cad for even having to ask her name. "What?"
"I don't have one, really. If I have one, I've forgotten it. In the woods I am called The Mad Seamstress."
"Mmm. That explains a lot, actually," Jefferson sighed thoughtfully, biting his lip.
"Of course it does - I'm completely bonkers."
Jefferson smirked faintly. "Quite...but Seamstress is a mouthful. May I call you 'Maddie'? Or is that offensive to you?"
She shrugged. "It is true that I am mad - how can I be offended by the honest truth? 'Maddie'. I think that's quite clever. I like that. Yes, you may call me Maddie."
Jefferson found himself smiling, regaining his charm despite his exhaustion, and he gave her an effortlessly graceful bow, removing his hat with a practiced ease and allowing it to tumble down his threadbare arm before straightening and catching it in his other hand.
Delighted, Maddie gave him a little clap which warmed his heart. She smiled at him, but then suddenly looked unsure. She studied his hat and frowned a little.
"So...would you like to explain you came by such a fine hat?"
Jefferson chuckled, flipping said hat and resting it back atop his shaggy head. "That's easy - I made it."
Maddie laughed, startling him with her sudden change in mood as she motioned to the hat on his head. "I think not. This...treasure, it is obvious it was made by a skilled Hatter...not a thieving rapscallion - and from the condition of your suit, I know you did not have the funds to buy it."
Jefferson was horribly offended...and a little hurt. Since when did she think she knew him? He'd lain with her once, and now she knew everything about him?
"I am a…"
"A what?" the pale-haired mad woman asked softly as if challenging him to again dare claim the exquisite work as his. "A conniving, criminal cad? A lying, light-fingered larcener? A selfish, swindling scoundrel?"
It hurt, being called out, because Jefferson knew everything she accused him of being was the honest truth. He had become not much more than a common housebreaker - and how had that happened, when all he'd set out to do was live a life of adventure? Come to think of it, just when was the last time he'd felt regretful for his actions? Exactly when was the last time he'd felt any kind of true guilt? Back before he'd become ill, before the magic had literally somehow landed in his lap. Back when he'd had a home, a family, when he'd had -
Cadmea.
He'd felt guilt when he'd denied her his love - and he had loved her. But it hadn't been enough. He'd regretted hurting her and leaving. But not enough to stay. He'd honestly thought Cadmea beneath him, then, a ball chained to his leg, threatening to sink him, drown him in a sea of dreaded mediocrity - now he was the one who didn't deserve her.
"I was...a Hatter," he mumbled guiltily, turning the Portal hat in his hands and blinking away a sudden vision of a girl long lost, with unruly thick brown hair and wounded soft grey eyes. "And a damned good one."
"Perhaps you might have been...once," the madwoman he'd so recently christened 'Maddie' said disdainfully, her suddenly sharp eyes merciless.
But no more.
It was right then and there that Jefferson recalled why he hated Wonderland - if he ever came back it would be too soon. There was something about the place that disturbed emotions he'd thought long buried...or perhaps it was just her. She truly was mad.
"Wait here, I have something for you," Maddie suddenly whispered, and hurried off beyond the trees.
Jefferson ran a hand through is too-long hair and sighed heavily, wondering if he should cut and run while he had the chance - but honestly, he was lonely, and despite her mercurial mood changes, he felt himself anticipating her return. He didn't really know why he suddenly craved her company - he had become accustomed to being alone.
He had begun his adventures alone, traveling fearlessly through the portal, through the doors, but then he'd run low on funds, and that was when he'd begun taking the curious and the rich with him - they'd paid well to see their curiosity sated, and word had traveled about Jefferson and his uncanny ability.
But...sometimes the people he'd gone into a world with didn't survive the unexpected violence that sometimes occurred. His reputation had taken a few too many hits when certain travelers hadn't returned, and new people, confused people who couldn't figure out why they were suddenly in a different, wholly unrecognizable place came to light. But it hadn't been his fault, really. He'd warned the travelers, the same amount of people had to go in as came out. What business was it of his if they couldn't escape, fell ill, or simply fell behind? And he could not be expected to just remain in an unfamiliar world forever, could he?
Maybe he had taken advantage of some people, the drunken and the poor, in able to get back home, but the Enchanted Forest was doubtlessly a better place than the one he'd taken them from, right? He'd done them a favor, and hadn't even charged them for his services! But bad news traveled fast, and he'd been drowning in debt again by the time he'd been approached by the devious Rumplestiltskin. A few jumps here and there, collecting and trading rare items, and everything was - quite literally - golden. Now here he was, being made to feel the fool by a madwoman - in that damned place called Wonderland of all places.
Perhaps when he was done here, when the search for him by certain interested parties had died down, when he had finally retrieved Rumple's latest bloody treasure, he would go back to his village - not to visit his parents, no, they wouldn't want to see him, had said as much when he left - but it might lighten his heart to see Cadmea again, even from afar. If he could see her living her simple life back home, maybe even wed by now -
The sudden pain that jolted his chest at the thought made him stumble, and a tiny rocking horsefly neighed in protest as he jostled it from it's feeding in the flowers.
How had he never thought of how it might make him feel to see her married to another man?
His sudden bereavement was squashed in it's infancy by the Seamstress. She pushed a wrapped bundle into his arms with a sweet smile and unfocused eyes.
Jefferson juggled the heavy package and grinned. "A gift? For me? I'm...touched."
Maddie crossed her eyes. "So am I!"
Jefferson cleared his throat. "I - ahem. Thank...you? What is it?"
The Seamstress bit her lips uncertainly. "Since the moment you first stumbled into Tulgey Wood from the Queen's maze, I have felt - compelled. My madness - and I know I am mad, quite hopelessly so, and growing madder by the day - it makes me bitter, irrational. I also feel the need to apologize."
"For what?" he challenged. "Calling me names? Recognizing a selfish, ungrateful brat of a man when you see one?"
"I-I'm not sure. I cannot apologize for seeing the truth where it lies."
Jefferson rolled his eyes.
"This gift - I have crafted a suit and coat to match all that darkness in your heart, Once-Hatter. One worthy of your extraordinary hat. One worthy of a villain."
Jefferson felt like she'd slapped him. To insult him with a smile, without even really knowing him, and then to give him a gift of apology, only to turn right around and insult him again?!
He stared at her in disbelief, trembling in fury...and then abruptly remembered he was talking to a mad person.
Looking down at the brown wrapped package in his hands, he bit his cheek, trying to reign in his outrage, because arguing with the insane couturier again would begin to drive him mad. So shaking his head at himself for ever thinking of coming back to this place, he knelt on one knee, placing the package on the grass, and unfolded it.
Jefferson was stunned speechless at the quality of the long leather and vertically-crushed, silk-velvet coat he first touched. He'd never seen anything like it. The tailoring was impeccable, the stitches all but invisible. It was all black, ankle-length, fitted tightly at the top and then flaring down from the waist into full, split-winged folds at the bottom. It had a wickedly high folded leather collar, and it and the wide, curling lapels were embossed with heavy, full-blown roses and intricate rolled edging.
The wide gauntlet cuffs, and two stylized, bat-wing faux-pocket flaps that cleverly drew attention to the fitted waist, matched the collar. Heavy ornate silver buttons pinned the gauntlets at the wrist, and three more on either side decorated the pocket-points at the waist. More of the undoubtedly dear, small fortune in silver buttons lined the closure of the coat.
Jefferson blinked, moving his lips, trying to find words, only to see the folded suit still waiting for inspection. He carefully set the coat to the side, and unfolded the rest.
"Leather breeches?" he dryly commented a moment later, holding up the tight leggings of butter-soft black leather. He twitched a dark brow over his shoulder at the seamstress, and her pink lips smirked.
"What, am I going to a fancy dress ball as a pirate?"
The Mad Seamstress combed a restless hand over and over through the heavy length of her white hair. "Practicality, my friend. Those will last much longer on your trips than woven cloth, the snugness makes them less likely to be caught upon something when you are in need of a swift exit, and they will protect your skin. All of the leather is fairy be-spelled, so no need to worry about them shrinking or moldering if they get wet."
Jefferson still felt bemused, cautious about the snugness violating the sovereignty of certain...manly bits, but set the breeches aside. He picked up a shirt of burgundy with stiff, high collar points and ruffled cuffs, and a smooth burnished dark red leather waistcoat with black, rolled silk edging, and double rows of smaller silver buttons. A long, raw silk red and black patterned cravat completed the ensemble. There was no question that it was indeed a handsome set of clothing - it rivaled anything that could have come out of the greatest Royal Clothing Houses in all the kingdoms, even the Metaxas, though it was obviously a bit eccentric.
Concerning his current enterprise, however, it was perfectly befitting. Dark and dramatic, intimidating and attention grabbing as well as diverting if one needed to keep to the shadows. To be quite honest, it was breathtaking.
"Well, Jefferson, what are you waiting for?" Maddie the Seamstress snapped. "It's rude to keep a lady waiting. My hut is just around the trees, and there are cloths and hot water warming in the pot by the fire - go bathe, and then try it on. It will fit perfectly."
"How would you know? Clearly the suits be-spoken," Jefferson asked snarkily. "You've never even measured me."
"But I've had my hands on you. Talent, silly boy - if you had any, you'd already know that. Now go and refresh yourself - you'll feel much better, I promise you."
Jefferson blushed at the reminder of their first heated joining, and then huffed at the insult, but shrugged it off. "Exactly what kind of lady are you?" he asked her under his breath as he took the clothing into her humble hut to change.
When he came back out later, he was quite obviously strutting.
He'd bathed before the warmth of her fire, glancing around curiously, and had taken advantage of the shears he found on her table to trim his damp hair, though he didn't want to brave the blades and rough soap to try and shave his three days worth of dark stubble. He'd been surprised when he'd pulled on his boots and coat, and turned to examine himself critically in her long, age-spotted looking glass. In the past year he'd changed quite dramatically, becoming leaner, taller - and the clothing complimented the rakish stubble on his sharp jaw, the troubling darkness crowding in his dark-lashed, blue-gray eyes.
The cat had been right - he had become a wicked man, after all.
Maddie watched him now with pale, wide eyes. "You…you look - "
"Yes?" Jefferson asked with smoldering eyes peering out from under the cocked rim of his hat, and an expectant smirk, rocking back on his boot heels and holding the wide lapels of his coat. He knew very well he looked damned good - good enough to expect her to rip off her gown and throw herself into his waiting arms -
"You look...like a man trollop." the Seamstress said, furrowing her fine brown brows together.
Jefferson's jaw dropped. He blinked at her.
"And clearly the trousers were a mistake - " she cocked her head to one side and looked pointedly at his crotch " - they're so tight one can see all the way to glory. Naughty." She licked her lips and sighed.
Jefferson inhaled sharply and choked on his own spit.
"Ah, well, it does not matter. Leather has give. I'm not certain if it will ever have quite that much give, though…hmm."
Jefferson couldn't stop coughing - if she didn't shut up, he was going to die. He automatically yanked both sides of his coat shut over his groin and shakily buttoned it shut.
The Seamstress gave him a vague, pretty pout with her soft pink lips. "May I see the back?" She asked huskily.
Jefferson's heart began thudding hard inside his chest, his fierce attraction warring with humiliation.
"No," he told her firmly, mulishly, sticking his chin up.
"Well, I suppose I mustn't argue - the suit was a gift after all, not a bribe," she sighed again.
Jefferson paused. "You...are you trying to say that you want me again?"
Maddie rolled her eyes emphatically. "A woman would have to be dead as dust not to want you. I would tell you not to let it go to your head, but it's far too late for that. You well know you're a beautiful man."
Jefferson felt both pride and embarrassment at her words, but mostly he was thinking of taking the coat off and letting her look her fill. She may be mad, but experience told him she was lovely, all pale skin and hair and eyes, small in stature, but fit as a fiddle and twice as curvy beneath her black, form-fitting dress.
"If I recall correctly, that's the second time you've referred to me in an effeminate way. Are you trying to emasculate me? Men are not beautiful or pretty. Men are good-looking, or handsome," he told her firmly.
"Neither of those descriptions suit you," the Seamstress shrugged, and Jefferson scowled until she continued in her hushed tone, "you truly are beautiful, Once-Hatter - though you do need to shave."
Jefferson flushed a little, but then his charm again took over and he bowed before her, taking her hand in his to place his lips on her fingers.
"Thank you for the gift, Maddie," he told her once he'd straightened. "My other suit has seen better days, I'm afraid."
"Oh, you're quite welcome, Jefferson. Evil cannot seduce in rags, after all."
Jefferson clenched his jaw, all good-humor fading from his expression. "I do not understand you!" he snapped, turning away from her to pace. "Are you truly that mad? I am not a villain! I am not evil! I - "
Maddie stopped him with a hand on his roughened jaw.
Jefferson froze mid-step, and looked down at her through suddenly tear-blurred eyes with an undefinable ache in his chest.
"Prove it," Maddie whispered to him, and he was startled to see tears of her own forming in her pale eyes.
Jefferson stared down at her dumbly until he felt his tears well and spill over. As soon as the first trail of wet heat burned down his cheek, he growled in denial and wrapped her up into his arms, his lips falling hard onto hers.
Maddie's lips fell open on a gasp, and took it as an invitation to kiss her ever more deeply. She whimpered, and lifted her hands to dive her fingers into his short, dark hair, fingertips twining desperately through the newly sleek curls.
Jefferson drew back to catch his breath, and when he rested his forehead against hers, opened his eyes to look at her, he almost dropped her in terror.
Maddie was looking at him with such absolute adoration, such tenderness that it made his heart trip. He knew that look, that emotion too well. It was enough to make him release her and turn his back, squeezing his eyes shut against the memory of another slight girl who'd looked at him with her heart in her eyes.
Jefferson's hands shook, and he lifted them to clutch the lapels of his coat in an effort to calm them. His breathing was harsh, his legs trembling, and a sob escaped his throat before he lifted a hand to scrub away the wetness on his cheeks.
"I-I need to go," he finally said resolutely, once he got his heart to calm. "I have a job to do." And he could go now, he decided, his appearance had changed that dramatically; he would be safe to be on the move again.
"Why did you come back, Jefferson?" Maddie asked in her soft whisper. "Truthfully."
Jefferson lifted his head, but still didn't turn around to face her. He just...couldn't, not yet.
"I've always wanted more then what I had, what my family could offer. I gave up everything to have my freedom, to do as I wished. I told myself I came back here because I needed to hide for a time - but it was really because I am lost. My freedom means everything, but the way in which I gained it - haunts me. It seems adventure and riches do little to comfort a lonely man."
"So you came to me - a mad woman - for comfort?"
"There is something familiar about you - your kindness."
"I am a kind lunatic, then."
Jefferson tilted his head at her, his expression as serious as it would ever be. "Your kindness makes you lovely, madness or no."
Maddie gave a dark, low laugh that was not much more than a sigh. He knew then that she did not think he spoke true.
Crossing her arms across her waist as if hugging herself, she jerked her head in the direction of the path out. "On your way, then, Once-Hatter, I doubt very much we shall see one another again - but do this mad woman a favor, and be careful."
"I will be fine, madam," Jefferson told her with a touch of fond impatience, both dismayed and eager to get out of Wonderland.
"I wonder. Just remember - you've become a villain - and villains, sadly, do not often get Happy Endings."
A chill ran down his spine as Jefferson stared hard at her. "Did you just curse me?"
"I'm no witch, I couldn't even if I wanted to - and I do not. No, if there's a curse on you, it's one you brought upon yourself. Be safe, Jefferson of the Enchanted Forest," Maddie said, and turned away from him as if washing her hands of him.
Jefferson did not hesitate any longer to escape back through the mirror. He was worried he'd end up like her if he stayed any longer.
He never even realized in his haste, that she'd mentioned the name of his homeland - and he'd never given it to her.
A/N: So, what a tangle. I had Cadmea create and give Jefferson his trademark suit that we all know from the show - because how ironic is it that he would eventually meet his wife wearing the gorgeous suit Cadmea had handmade for him? Ouch. I'm sorry for the overly detailed descriptions in this chapter, but I wanted to get the mental pictures straight, and apologies if I fudged any details. BTW - the line about villains not getting happy endings is from Mr. Gold, if you recall. I hope you'll all hang around for the next post - thanks again for reading!