Chapter five, finally! All of the characters have met, but things have just started... I hope you'll like it, feel free to leave a review!

TW: This chapter contains an implicit description of sexual violence and mention of character death.

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Chapter 5 – The Eve

Even though she had all the comforts she needed in her Castle and was not as exposed to violence as many other inhabitants of Underland, the last years had been tough for the White Queen as well.

After she witnessed the destruction that the Jabberwocky had brought upon Underland, a sense of guilt had washed over her just as quick and dark as the shadow of that monster: the fear that her sister wouldn't have stopped there, that her whole reign would have been destroyed and that many of her citizens would have lost their lives, was constantly there in the back of her mind. It blocked any thought of a possible reaction, it made her feel trapped, helpless, and that numbness in a monarch is never seen as positive. But after a while, she realized that that dreadful feeling that had been instilled into her by the whole situation, could have turned out to be a perfect cover. Iracebeth wanted to be feared? She would have been her guest. Pretending to have settled well into her new status as former Queen of Underland would have created the perfect situation for her to start to weave her resistance net.

Mirana had vowed that she wouldn't have answered to her sister's attack with another until she was really ready, she was not like her sister: she did care about her subjects and she couldn't have willingly wasted their lives just for her to assert her dominance so soon after such an event, she could have never done that to them. They would have rested while she would have taken time to see how the Red Queen would have settled, time for her to become comfortable in her new-born reign, time for the Champion to come back and take her down once and for all.

But this choice had had a violent impact on her and on Underland: by doing so she had let her reign crumble into a quick downfall and she had also lost the trust of many of her subjects. Still, Mirana thought it was better this way: better on the other side than dead, because they would have had the opportunity to start off a new life after her victory on the Frabjous Day… right? The truth is, she hurt every day for her choice, asking herself if she had done the right thing. What if she had allowed too much time to pass? What if Iracebeth had noticed what she had been doing over the years and was just equally prepared to win? What if Alice never changed her mind about fighting as her Champion?

These thoughts constantly plagued her mind, even if she had grown accustomed to hiding them behind her flawless façade made up of gentle gestures and twirling gowns: it was driving her bonkers. But there were a few moments during the which her mind was eased and she felt a spark of hope for the future: it was when she was among her closest friends, the fiercest members of her resistance, like that evening.

She soaked in their presence and allowed herself not to think about the fact that it was the eve of the Frabjous Day. Apparently, it was the same thing everyone else was doing: enjoying the company, while the atmosphere was livened up by the occasional laughter and the casual talking.

Dinner had been served in the informal dining room where she usually ate by herself: a set of windows ran across one side, the puffy white curtains had been closed for the evening, the illumination came from a large crystal chandelier that was hung just above the rectangular table occupying the middle of the room. A light cyprus coloured tablecloth covered it and silverware had been prepared for the guests to use.

The March Hare, Mally, Chess and McTwisp were all sitting on the same side of the table, at the Queen's right, that was where the mild chaos was coming from: The White Rabbit had long given up trying to remind the other three that they were sitting at the White Queen's presence and was quietly munching on what was on his plate. Bayard and Brielle were laying on the carpet below them, occasionally standing up to tend to their puppies. Tweedledee sat opposite to Tweedledum, who was next to The Mad Hatter on the other side of the table; Tarrant was contributing to the joyful reunion in a much quieter way, his sister sitting at his right: for the whole evening he had kept a hand upon hers. And then there was Alice, sitting directly at Mirana's left, looking lost, eating silently, and following neutrally the actions of the people sitting with her. No wonder, Mirana thought, understanding her discomfort.

"We should do this kind of things together more often!", Mally chirped clapping her tiny paws together and retiring in her little chair at the end of the dinner.

"Mally, we have tea together every day", answered the Hatter.

"Of course, I meant when… ye know, when this will be all over. Our tea party could use a renovation, aye Hatter?", she laughed a little at the question "A clean tablecloth, new cups- Thackery smashed a few an' the others are all chipped…",

"And preferably scones that are fresh…", Chessur muttered to himself.

Mally frowned at the interruption: "Ye never eat anythin' when ye join us!"

"Can you blame me?"

"This can all be arranged, in time", Mirana intervened, earning excited exclamations from her right side.

"Ah can't wait until 'in time' comes!", Thackery moaned, pulling his ears down to frame his face.

"Isn't it 'on time'?", Tweedledee asked his brother.

Rolling his eyes, Tweedledum answered: "No, it isn't, because we don't know when it will happen."

"But we do!", The first kept on saying.

"Contrarywise, we don't!", Dum insisted.

"Yes, we do: at the end of the Frabjous Day!"

"Oh, right… that being tomorrow."

There it was. The tension crept back, making everyone's face fall slightly. Mirana opened her mouth, but she could form no answer, so silence filled the air and the White Queen was left speechless, lips parted, eyes empty… like she had always been depicted by everybody: unprepared. It was the Hatter's words that kept her from sinking further into her dark thoughts.

"That being tomorrow, yes…", he started to fidget with his jacket to take his pocket watch out "There is just one night ahead of us and I, if I may, suggest spending it resting".

The White Queen recomposed herself, but she could not help clearing her throat before speaking: "I couldn't agree more, you all must be exhausted from today", she extended a hand to ring a small silver bell that was set just in front of her. At the sound, Pawn hurried in and bowed to his Queen, signalling that he was ready to listen to what she was about to order: "Would you kindly escort our guests to their respective rooms for the night, Pawn?"

"Yes, your Highness", he answered.

"Excellent", the White Queen rose from her seat, as did everyone else after her. She smiled at them, thanked for the evening, and bid each of them goodnight as they passed by her.

She retired to her quarters as well, she was helped to change into her night gown: she took her time to clean her make-up from her face and to comb her ivory hair, in hope to calm her nerves. When Mirana climbed into her large bed, she was expecting sleep not to come, "I suggest spending the night resting", easier said than done…, so she laid there on her back: maybe tiredness would have taken over sooner if she concentrated on counting the folds of the canopy above her.

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It was still the middle of the night when Tarrant woke up with a start: he was laying on his side, blankets tangled around his legs, his heart was beating fast and he could feel a drop of sweat sliding down his brow. He took a deep breath as he reached under his pillow for his handkerchief, he wiped his forehead and sat up on the bed passing his hands on his face soothingly. It must have been just another-

"Nightmare?"

He turned his head towards the other side of the bed he and his sister were sharing, but he surprisingly found it empty. Squinting his eyes to adjust to the dark, he searched around the room, until he found her sitting on the large sill of a closed window: she was hugging her knees to her chest, her impossibly long hair tied in a braid that ran down her back and she had her gaze upon him, the moonlight reflecting on the marble of the castle was resting on her frame in a thin light blue veil.

"So it seems… you?", he said, his voice thick with sleep.

Teana shrugged, tightening her hold around her legs and going back to look beyond the glass: "Can't sleep".

At that the Hatter immediately knew there was more, so he softly asked: "Why didn't you tell me?".

"I didn't want to wake you up, you need rest".

"So do you, Teana".

The only answer he got back was a hum. He patted her pillows and smoothed the blankets, then he looked at his twin again: he called her name softly, and when she turned, he gestured for her to come back to bed with a small smile. Teana froze to consider his offer, but then gave in, unwrapping her figure to go settle under the blankets that the Hatter was gently holding up for her: he also took care of tucking her in, a small gesture which she appreciated.

They were facing one another, and Tarrant was suddenly aware that laying between them was also a good amount of awkwardness: even though they were twins and shared a unique bond, the years spent apart had done wonders to ruin it. They were not used to be around each other anymore, none seemed to remember what made the other laugh, all they had shared after their reunion were empty words. On his part, he had noticed that something was up with his sister, but she looked so fragile that he was afraid he might have broken her, and having been around other people all evening hadn't helped to find a quiet moment to ask her about it.

But now, in their solitude, together in one bed, like they used to when they were children, maybe he could try to understand what was behind the blue hue her eyes were showing. He slowly reached a hand forward and brushed the tips of his fingers on her cheek: she lifted her eyes to his, it was the first time she made a real eye contact with him tonight, and he made sure she met a loving gaze.

Teana trembled slightly and took a hold of his wrist to press his whole hand against her cheek, she released a shaky sigh, closing her eyes as she nuzzled into his palm. Tarrant responded by caressing her cheekbone with his thumb, even though it was still wrapped in bandages: "It's alright, Feather. It's just me… despite everything, I'm still good ol' Tarrant".

She chuckled: "I can tell, ye still haven't learnt how to attend yer own wounds", she said, gesturing his obviously injured finger with her eyes.

The fact that she was trying to change subject and that her accent had grown heavier were screaming to him that something was terribly off, so Tarrant ignored her comment and went on: "There is something you are not telling me, Teana, I can see it", he could see sparkles of yellow in her irises and he noticed she was holding her breath, "I can also see that you are hurting… I need you to tell me because I want to help you".

Teana started to tremble, she narrowed her eyes and shook her head: "It's ower late… nothin' left that can be done".

Tarrant kept on caressing her face and speaking softly to her, but his stomach churned: "I don't care how bad it is, I'll listen".

She clenched her jaw as tears started to gather in her eyes for the umpteenth time that day, she looked frustrated by that, as she sharply raised a hand to wipe them away. She set her features in a very serious expression and, after clearing her throat, she confessed what was weighting on her: "Terence and I were brought together to Salazen Grum, but got taken apart soon after our arrival, to be interrogated separately: I never saw him again.", She crossed her eyebrows in sad anger before continuing: "She asked me who I was, what I could do, to give her a valid reason to keep me alive… I lied about my name, about my past, everything not to make her suspect I was a Hightopp and I was lucky she is terrible at remembering features, because she believed every word I made up… but the Knave, he didn't buy it", she said shaking her head slightly.

She took a long pause, for a second Tarrant thought she would have stopped there. Then she lifted her body into a seated position, her legs crossed under the covers and her gaze fixed on her hands that she was wriggling in her lap. He followed her suit, making himself comfortable by her side with an arm draped around her shoulders: as she inhaled to speak again, something in his mind told him that the worse part had yet to come.

"I started working as a groom at the stables, he was often there as he spends the day riding around Underland. First it was small talk, then compliments… then touches… one evening he followed me in my room-", Teana gulped, then coughed on a sob she had been trying too hard to suppress.

Tarrant intervened on her hands, which were clenching her upper arms too tightly for his liking. He could only imagine what had followed, his eyes burned red and his face twisted as he saw his sister in the Knave's arms behind his closed lids: his stomach gave a twist, he had to gather all his strength to keep his anger and disgust towards that worm from showing, for Teana's sake. He held her petite hands in his own calloused ones and squeezed, a silent reassurance and a beg not to stop.

"-I was p-petrified… when he told me that- that Terence was kept in a cell as a prisoner, I believed him: 'One word'", she quoted, holding her index up, "that would have been enough to end Terence's life: one word of his. I would have had to welcome him every time he would have come in my room: that was the deal, or else-… That's how he got me tae stay silent… sae he could come back again, an' again, an' again-", their holding hands began bouncing as she emphasized every 'again' with a punch on her thigh.

The Hatter easily stopped her action, Teana was beyond spent and he was starting to lose his cool, it was clearly enough for that night: he pulled her close to his side as, eventually, tears began to stream hard on her face. He squeezed her shaky form, an arm around her waist, the other curled around her head so that his hand was buried in her hair, and lulled her back and forth. When she sobbed out incoherent phrases about Terence being dead, he swallowed hard: he had promised not to tell her anything, who knows what her reaction might have been. Certainly, he was not telling her right then what her husband was really up to, she would have definitely gone bonkers or worse, she already looked distraught enough.

He couldn't remember the last time she had felt so bad that he had had to comfort her through a crisis: maybe because it had never happened. It was always the contrary, Teana was the best at providing comfort and a good piece of advice, be it because some child had decided to throw his hat in a mud puddle, because of a fight with their dad or because the mercury was beginning to show its effects. She was always there for him when he needed someone the most: "I'm sorry, Teana".

She lifted her wet face towards him.

"You have been through so much, Feather: you were hurting and where was I? Sittin' at a table, starin' at an empty teacup, mournin'". He finally looked down at her, his eyes full of sorrow: "Ye never pulled back when Ah needed ye, and when ye were in danger, Ah wasn't there: Ah'm sorry, so sorry Teana…".

They spent a few moments looking at each other, letting words sink in, then the Hatter felt a hand sneak around his waist to match his hold on his sister: "This was different, Tarrant, you know it: you had no idea I was there, there was nothing that could be done."

"I know, I just wish things would have gone differently, I wish you weren't hurt and that I could help you, like I helped many others…", he murmured.

Teana pulled up from the embrace to look at him in the eyes and took his hands in the same way he had done earlier: "The past cannot be changed, no matter how much we wish otherwise. I think it's better if we focus on our present, and right now, I know that I have got you to count on. And you have me".

There she was, comforting her brother again: "Hatter and Feather…".

She smiled, a real smile, despite the mood and the salty tears that had begun to dry on her cheeks: "…always together".