Love is Merely a Madness

by Anonymous_Ostrich

Summary:

Alice comes down with a curious affliction on a beautiful day.

Chapter 1: Golden Afternoon

There were three Tarrants that lived inside of the Hatter, as far as Alice could tell.

There was the sweet, demure, lisping Tarrant who enjoyed tea, riddles and singing nonsensical songs. There was the more sincere Tarrant who spoke in a soft, low voice and said things that made Alice's heart skip a beat. And there was the angry, growling Tarrant who spoke in a thick, threatening brogue that also tended to make Alice's heart skip a beat, though for different reasons altogether.

It wasn't as though they were split personalities, either. All of them were the Hatter. It was more as though he'd been splintered, all the pieces still connected, just different, distinct. Honestly, Alice preferred him that way. How could she not? He wasn't the Hatter otherwise. And weren't all people splintered in some way or other? Certainly the splinters became much muchier the more mad the person happened to be, but Alice had learned some time ago that she greatly preferred to be among mad people anyhow.

That was why she'd returned to Underland after all, only three and a half years after she'd slain the Jabberwocky.

The first time she'd come back, it had been for a visit. The vial of Jabberwocky blood served as a quick and convenient way to visit Underland whenever Alice fancied. Somehow or other her visits became longer and longer, until it seemed only natural that she should stay. When her mother moved in with Margaret and Lowell, Alice decided Underland was the best place for her. She loved her family dearly, but living with them didn't seem right. She didn't want to impose. Margaret had a child now, and although her mother was every bit the doting grandmother Alice expected her to be, Alice felt disconnected from it all. It was as though she and her family were pieces of a puzzle, and her trips to Underland had changed her shape. She no longer fit in.

She was content enough to visit them on occasion.

As Alice pulled her shawl across her shoulders and collected her things into a modest basket, she glanced outside her window, catching the soft blues and bright violets of the afternoon sky. It was a beautiful day, like so many days here in Underland. How long had it been since she'd come to live here? A few months at least, she was certain, but she'd have to check her journal to know the exact date and time. Perhaps later. Presently, she was nearly late for her picnic with the Hatter and Mallymkun, and it wouldn't do to be late on such a gorgeous day.

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"Hatter!"

Alice called for him as soon as she saw him under the giant tree on the hill, waving at him with a smile. He spun around to the sound of her voice, his own mouth turning up into a warm smile that soon became a toothy grin.

"Alice!" he chirped happily, running to meet her and immediately taking the basket from her hands to offer her his arm. She took it, allowing him to excitedly lead her to the large, colorful blanket he'd laid out for them under the shade of the tree. "What a fetching day, don't you think? To have a picnic on such a beautiful day is certain to bring good luck."

The corner of Alice's mouth quirked in an amused grin. "Isn't it typical to picnic on nice days?" she inquired. "Shouldn't everyone have good luck, then?"

"Oh no no no," the Hatter frowned, shaking his head as he set Alice's basket down next to his own basket, "Most people picnic on nice days, not beautiful days. There's a sizable difference, you know."

"And the difference is?" Alice asked curiously, sitting herself down on the blanket. The Hatter grinned at her.

"The company, of course," he replied as though it were obvious. Alice felt the familiar jump in her chest, a fluttering feeling that was always somewhere between fondness and yearning. "You absolutely must picnic with those who make you happy, or even the most beautiful day will be nothing more than a nice one. What a waste!"

Alice smiled. "I couldn't agree more." She glanced around as the Hatter sat himself down and went about opening his basket, producing tea cups, saucers and a teapot that looked far too big to fit in the basket from whence it came. "Where's Mally?" Alice asked when she could find no trace of the dormouse anywhere.

Hatter finished pouring them both a cup of tea, then glanced at Alice with an apologetic smile. "You know, that dormouse has never turned down an invitation to a luncheon of any kind before. Not ever! But when I was on my way to meet you, Mally told me she couldn't come at the very last moment."

"Is everything alright?" Alice asked.

"Don't fret my dear, Mally seemed perfectly fine. Mentioned something about being too full after an afternoon tea with Thackery. Too much treacle, I believe."

Alice couldn't withhold a soft chuckle at the thought. Over the last several months Alice had seen another side to the usually fierce, fearless Mallymkun. When the Red Queen's terrible reign ended, so ended much of Mallymkun's ferocity. Alice found instead that the dormouse quite preferred a lazy life of eating sweets and drinking tea until she found herself drowsy and content to doze off, which Alice honestly couldn't find fault with at all. Now that peace prevailed in Underland, it seemed many of Alice's friends who had been on edge for so long were finally able to relax without fear of what tomorrow would hold for them.

"That's a shame, though I'm glad Mally isn't ill."

There was a worried crease between the Hatter's wild brows. "Are you disappointed?" His voice was so deflated and filled with baseless fear that it nearly hurt Alice's heart.

"Of course not," Alice reassured. "It would have been nice to see Mally, but spending time with you could never disappoint me."

The Hatter's eyes widened. His expression became hopeful, then pleased. "Never?"

"Never ever," Alice assured.

Thoroughly encouraged, the Hatter beamed at her. "Well, then! Let us carry on, shall we?" He passed her a tea cup and pulled a small tray from his basket bursting with cherry scones, iced cakes and cream and jam. Alice opened her own basket to reveal an assortment of finger sandwiches. She knew her Hatter well enough to know that he wouldn't have provided anything savory, and although Alice generally disliked propriety in all forms, she also firmly believed sandwiches should always be served with afternoon tea.

For a while, Alice and the Hatter drank their tea and nibbled on treats and talked idly about the day, their friends and the occasional riddle or joke until they fell into comfortable silence, finishing off their first cups. The Hatter was right, it was quite a beautiful day. Most days in Underland tended to be beautiful since the Frabjous Day, as if the very winds and weather of Underland were rejoicing the Red Queen's defeat. Alice glanced at the Hatter, who was busying himself preparing them both another cup. Without realizing it, she let slip a fond chuckle at the strangeness of it all - or was it all more normal than normal had ever been? - and the Hatter glanced her way with a questioning grin.

"Is something funny, Alice? You must tell me if something is funny, else I fear I won't be able to join in the joke."

Alice shook her head. "Nothing funny, exactly. Or is it? It's hard to tell, really. It's just that I always have such a wonderful time when we're together like this, but this would be completely unacceptable where I come from. And such a harmless thing, a picnic on such a lovely day with such a treasured friend. Why ever should such a simple pleasure be improper?"

The Hatter hummed thoughtfully. "It seems an awful lot of things are considered improper in Upland," he observed gravely. "The tea must not taste very good there at all." When Alice didn't reply, Hatter leaned in, glancing at her with a softer expression. "Do you… regret leaving that place?"

Although Alice had been lost to her thoughts just a moment ago, Hatter's question brought her quickly back to the present. "Not at all!" she insisted. "I don't have anything to regret. I was at the forefront of the most ambitious trading agreement the modern world has ever seen, and I've seen more of Upland than most people of my standing ever will. I was able to apprentice with my father's company, and watch my father's legacy thrive and soar." Her gaze fell to her lap. "After a while, I… Well, there's only so far a woman can go, after all. Muchness only counts for so much in Upland, no matter how hard you wish it weren't so." She gave the Hatter a sincere smile. "I belong here. Wonderland makes more sense to me than Upland ever did."

The Hatter's expression darkened by the slightest of margins, his green eyes flashing gold so quickly it was easily missed. "They didnae deserve ye," he said in a deep, rough voice. Alice instinctively placed a hand on his arm, giving him a gentle squeeze. Recently, the Hatter only seemed to slip into his brogue when he was feeling protective of Alice in some way or another, and she still didn't know whether to be flattered about that or not.

"I'm here now," Alice pointed out, "and I'm here to stay. That's all that matters."

The Hatter's usual cheerfulness instantly returned. "I quite agree!"

"Good then," Alice dropped her hand, moving to pick up her tea cup. "Pass me a scone, would you?"

"Of course, my dear," Hatter happily replied. Alice grinned and raised her cup to her lips, blowing over the steaming liquid. When she went to take a sip, something strange happened.

Everything became foggy, warbly, like Chessur's body when he was becoming translucent. Alice could no longer feel the tea cup's warm porcelain against her fingers, could no longer see the spread of sweets and plates around her as anything more than hazy blobs of color. Her tea cup fell through her fingers, tea spilling over the blanket. She could barely hear her companion's voice beside her, could barely hear Hatter calling out her name. Was she fading away? How curious, she couldn't remember ever fading away before. Was this normal in Underland? Not likely, considering the panicked rise in Hatter's far-away voice.

Was this such a concerning thing? She didn't want to worry Hatter. As the world slipped away from her, that was all she could think about. Hatter. Her Hatter, Tarrant, her mad, wonderful Hatter. Her dearest friend. Thinking about him seemed to clear some of the fog from her mind; in a desperate attempt to pull herself free of the strangeness that had gripped her, she tried to focus on the Hatter, on his voice, on the thought of seeing him again.

"Alice!"

It was though the world had exploded around her, burst back into existence, all color and sound and sensation returning so suddenly it nearly knocked the air from her lungs. The Hatter was very close to her, holding her arms so firmly she wondered if she'd bruise. The Hatter's expression was severe, his already pale face sickly with fear, his large eyes searching her own carefully, a flicker of relief only when Alice stared back at him for a moment, her hands shakily raising to rest on his knees. Alice felt her own relief at the touch. A moment ago, she hadn't been certain she would ever feel again.

"Hatter?" Alice squeaked out. His hands loosened their grip on her arms, his lips parting to issue a strained breath he'd been holding. "What happened?"

In an instant, the Hatter pulled Alice against his chest, hugging her tightly. Alice's cheek pressed against his lapels. She could hear the Hatter's heart hammering frantically in his chest, so much so that for a moment, Alice worried it might break free of the Hatter's body altogether.

"You almost vanished," the Hatter muttered into her hair. His arms, wound tight around Alice's slim frame, were shaking. "My dear Alice… You nearly vanished entirely!"

Notes:

It's 2021 and my inspiration decided to emerge from it's Deep Sleep to hyperfixate on an 11-year old ship, all because my husband and I decided to rewatch some of our favorite Depp/Burton movies. Am I confused? Yes. Am I still writing a multi-chapter fic for a probably dead fandom? Also yes.

Chapter 2: To Marmoreal

Just like that, Alice had been whisked away from their picnic under that beautiful tree.

The moment the Hatter had released her from his embrace, he had scooped her up and began rushing them off towards Marmoreal and the White Queen's castle. Alice's many protests fell on deaf ears, even as she insisted she could walk on her own just fine - a fact she wasn't entirely certain of, if she were being honest with herself - though she couldn't fault the Hatter for his haste, either. She'd apparently just disappeared. Was that really such an odd thing in Underland? Chessur disappeared almost constantly, was there a difference? Alice supposed Chessur vanished purposefully, whereas she'd just faded out without the slightest warning. There seemed to be a difference after all. All she could do was keep her arms tight around the Hatter's neck as he ran single-mindedly toward the castle, with a swiftness one wouldn't expect from a man with a passenger in his arms.

Only when the ground began to tremble under the Hatter's feet did he slow down, and soon a massive furry creature rushed up beside them, eyes trained on Alice worriedly.

The Hatter came to a skidding halt, prompting the Bandersnatch to do the same.

"We need to get Alice to the castle, Banders, there's not a moment to waste!" the Hatter huffed. The Bandersnatch lowered his head obediently, allowing the Hatter to help Alice onto his wide back. The Hatter jumped on after her, holding onto her waist from behind and they took off again, the Bandersnatch not quite understanding the situation but realizing the seriousness of it all the same. Alice felt her face grow warm in embarrassment. The Bandersnatch had probably never seen the Hatter so frantic. Alice wasn't sure she'd ever seen him in such a state, either. She felt awful for causing her friends so much distress.

On the Bandersnatch's back, they reached the White Queen's castle in no time at all. As the Hatter helped her off of it's back, Alice was finally successful in convincing the Hatter that she could walk very well on her own, thank you, and the Hatter reluctantly conceded, keeping close to her side as they made their way to the throne room.

"I don't know if this is worth all the trouble," Alice said timidly. She was never timid, what had gotten into her? "I'm fine now, see? The Queen is likely busy, we should-"

Alice's stride came to a halt when the Hatter moved in front of her, blocking her path. His expression was dark, deadly serious, and the sight of it made Alice's breath catch in her throat.

"Ye are no' fine, Alice." he said firmly. His eyes softened, brows turning in tender concern. "That… I've never seen that before. And the Queen may be able to help, might even know what happened. The Queen has never found it troubling to help those she holds dear."

"Is it really so odd?" Alice asked, her voice hardly a whisper. "I've seen so many impossible things in Underland, impossible things seem to happen as routinely as rainstorms around here."

The Hatter's expression grew grave. "Impossible does not mean without danger," he pointed out. "Please, Alice. The Queen must know."

Alice's lips pressed into a line, her gaze drawing to the white marbled floor. She so hated worrying her friends like this, and she would hate it even more if she worried everyone for no reason. Despite this, she couldn't deny how frightened she was. She hadn't been so afraid even when facing the Jabberwocky. If she'd been killed on that battlefield, it would have been teeth and claws and blood, possibly a beheading at the end of it all. That sort of fate was not desirable by any means, but death was waiting for everyone sooner or later. Alice didn't fear death.

It was nothingness that thoroughly terrified her. In those short moments in which she'd faded away, she felt as though she hadn't existed. She never wanted to feel that horrible sensation again.

Lost in her thoughts, Alice nearly didn't notice when the Hatter took her hands in his, tugging on them with gentle insistence. Her eyes rose up to meet his.

"I thought you were lost," the Hatter said earnestly, in such a heart-rending tone that Alice suddenly wanted to kick herself for being so averse to the Queen's help. "Losing you, losing my Alice… That was the most frightened I've ever been in my life. Truly, truly."

Alice squeezed the Hatter's hands. How could she not have realized that the Hatter was likely just as terrified as she was? If it was frightening to feel oneself fading away, certainly it was just as frightening to watch it happen to someone one cared about.

Alice's lips parted to apologize but she was swiftly interrupted by the throne room doors opening wide, the White Queen gliding through them, worry twisting her beautiful, haunting face. Her eyes immediately fell on Alice and the Hatter and she gasped, hurrying towards them, her dress train billowing behind her.

"Alice! Tarrant!" the Queen stopped beside them, searching their faces for any clue as to what was going on. "I'd heard word that you arrived on the Bandersnatch as if fleeing for your lives. Is everything quite alright?"

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As soon as Alice and the Hatter had explained what had happened during the picnic, the Queen had similarly whisked Alice to the hospital wing of the castle all while sending her various attendants and guards off on so many errands Alice could hardly keep track. She'd sent for every healer, doctor and expert in Marmoreal and possibly beyond, and although Alice appreciated it all very much, she still wasn't certain that one instance of Vanishing From Existence was worth all this fuss.

Alice was escorted to a lavish room that looked more like a lord's quarters than a hospital room. The Queen excused herself and although the Hatter seemed reluctant to leave Alice's side, the Queen requested his presence in the hall, apologizing to Alice as she closed the doors.

Alice looked around the room, wondering how long the Queen would insist she stay. Was she truly ill? Was this an illness, or something else altogether? Sighing heavily, Alice sat herself down on the edge of the four-poster bed, sinking into the plush bedding. Ever since she could remember, Alice almost never suffered from illness. Even when her mother, father and sister had come down with scarlet fever, Alice had helped care for them, never succumbing to it herself despite being the youngest in the household. She wasn't used to being fussed over, or concerning herself with her health. She considered herself rather resilient in all ways. All this talk of doctors and hospitals was putting her out of sorts.

Moments later there came a tame knock at the door.

"Come in," Alice called, and the doors opened, the Hatter shuffling inside. He was holding his hat between his hands, fingers fidgeting around the brim. He'd been so frazzled earlier he hadn't even remembered to remove his hat inside the castle.

"How are you feeling?" he asked her, and Alice couldn't prevent a groan.

"Please, Hatter. It's much too soon to be so worried, isn't it? I'm feeling fine, fit as a fiddle. So please don't sound so…" she sighed lightly, searching for the right word. "...pitying."

The Hatter came to sit beside her on the bed, setting his hat in his lap. Alice might have laughed again if the situation weren't so unpleasant; sitting beside a man who wasn't her husband on a bed, of all things! Take that, propriety! "No pity here," the Hatter lisped softly. "Just… profound worry. Fretting, fear, concern, panic, not again, never again, can't ever ever happen again-"

"Hatter," Alice's voice was soothing, pointed, and the Hatter's increasing madness stilled in his throat, nearly choking from it.

"I'm fine," he squeaked out.

"Let's not get ourselves in a tizzy so soon, alright?" Alice said gently. "I'm sure it's nothing. It might not ever happen again. Panicking will get us nowhere."

"Nowhere," the Hatter repeated, smiling to himself. "I went on holiday there, once. It's a lovely place."

Alice smiled at him. "I'm sorry, Hatter. That… Whatever happened before, it must have been very unpleasant to witness."

The Hatter shook his head, frowning. "You have nothing to apologize for, my dear." He shifted uncomfortably, glancing down at the top of his hat. "I thought perhaps you were leaving," he muttered, brows still pinched in worry. "I've seen you fade away like that once before, on the Frabjous Day. You went back to your own world then, and I thought perhaps…"

Alice hadn't even considered that. It must have seemed very much the same, hadn't it? When she'd used the Jabberwocky's blood to return home, it hadn't felt like fading away. It felt as though she were going somewhere, moving to another place, up and up, until she found herself crawling up out of that rabbit hole. Earlier, it felt distinctly as though she didn't exist at all. She wasn't headed anywhere, she was simply… Gone. Blown out like the flame of a candle.

Remembering it sent a chill flying down Alice's spine.

"I'm sorry," the Hatter said, pulling Alice out of her unpleasant reverie. "It all happened so fast, I…"

Before she even realized what she was doing, Alice's hand moved to close over the Hatter's. His eyes widened the barest fraction. "You needn't apologize either." She smiled at him, and finally the Hatter offered her a tentative smile in return. She gave his hand a squeeze. "If I could ask a favor, Hatter."

"Of course!" he answered her, listening with rapt attention.

"Can we keep all this between us and the Queen?" Alice asked. "I don't want to worry everyone, especially when there may be nothing wrong in the first place."

The Hatter smiled and placed his other hand over Alice's. "The Queen thought you'd say something like that. She's already ordered the castle staff that mum's the word, so to speak, or no word at all, in this case. But Alice," the Hatter's smile slowly dropped, "your friends care about you. They'd want to know."

"There's nothing to know just yet," Alice pointed out gently. "I promise I'll let our friends know if… if things get worse, but we don't know anything yet. So," she pulled her hand free from between the Hatter's, her heart panging strangely at the loss of his familiar warmth. "Our picnic was far from finished, wasn't it? Just because the venue has changed doesn't mean we ought to stop enjoying ourselves."

The Hatter beamed at her. "What an idea!" he chirped, setting his hat on the bed to get up, striding to the large doors. "I'll see about having some tea and cakes brought to the room while we wait, won't I?"

Alice smiled at him, watching him as he left through the doors and stepped outside. She could just barely make out his voice on the other side of the doors, ordering a great many things for Act Two of their picnic. The picnic Alice ruined by very nearly vanishing.

A surge of fear bloomed in Alice's stomach. She lifted her hands to observe them, the familiar feeling washing over her once again, that loss of feeling, of belonging in the physical world.

Her hands were fading. She could see straight through them as though she were made entirely of sheer silk.

Notes:

In case anyone's wondering, I'm disregarding the events of ATTLG entirely in this fic. I have seen it, I just don't consider it part of the AiW-Burton verse :)

Chapter 3: Doctors and Examinations

Alice collapsed to the floor, her rapidly fading form sliding right through the bed she'd been sitting on. Terrified, she tried to cry out but her voice was lost to the void, vanished along with the rest of her.

It was cold. It was dark. It was empty, so chillingly empty, no room left for thought or feeling. Alice struggled against it, against the nothingness and the fear and the overwhelming emptiness, trying desperately to remind herself that she was Alice Kingsleigh, the daughter of Charles and Helen Kingsleigh, the woman who helped forge the first trade route from England to China, the Champion of Underland, someone who could easily think of as many as six impossible things before breakfast. She couldn't just disappear! She refused to, in fact!

The room around her was barely visible, like an image that had been painted over with watered down white paint, but from her place on the floor she could just see the top of the Hatter's hat perched on the bed, the sight of it like a beacon in a storm. Hatter. She wanted to see him again. She recalled her episode earlier, remembered what she'd been thinking about just before she'd become whole again. Her thoughts had been of the Hatter, hadn't they? Alice reached out for that hat even though she had no arms to speak of, and filled her mind with Tarrant Hightopp. She wanted to see him again, wanted to see him, wanted to-

"Alice?"

Alice stifled a gasp, the world shifting back again with the same abruptness as before. She lowered her arm, trying hard to keep her panic firmly buttoned down. She heard the Hatter's shoes clack against the marble floor as he strode to her, his voice laced with unmistakable concern. "What's happened? Why are you on the floor?"

Alice's eyes darted to the nearby chair, reaching out to pull a thick woven blanket from the back of it. She turned to the Hatter and offered him a smile. "Setting up for our picnic, of course. Did you request everything we'll need?"

For all the guilt she felt for lying to the Hatter, she felt so much more relief when she saw his expression become calm and relaxed. As he kneeled down beside her to help spread out the blanket, she knew she couldn't tell him. Telling him would only cause him insurmountable worry.

She would wait for the doctors to properly diagnose her. In the meantime, she hoped against hope that she could keep it under control while in her dear friend's company.

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Tea and biscuits were brought to the room mere minutes after the Hatter had requested them, and the two of them resumed their picnic as best they could manage. It was clear to Alice that both of them were struggling to maintain a pleasant atmosphere; Hatter because of his nervousness over what had happened earlier, Alice because she alone had the knowledge that it had very much happened again, meaning it would likely continue to happen. They were both doing their best to keep the other calm and happy, though it was undeniable that this was not a calm and happy situation, no matter how one looked at it.

Shortly thereafter, a knock came at the door, and a royal attendant entered to announce the first physician to arrive - a wide-mouth bass dressed in a white physicians coat with a slightly moist medical bag wrapped in her fin - and the Hatter was politely asked to leave the room so that Alice could be examined. Once again the Hatter seemed reluctant to leave, but Alice offered him a comforting smile and assured him she would be fine, that she was in good fins.

The physician performed a standard Underland examination, at least as far as Alice could tell. She checked Alice's tongue, her ears, her heart and her temperature, her knees, and her opinion on parliamentary reform. She was asked to touch her toes, and spin in a circle and recite You Are Old, Father William from memory. (Fortunately, the fact that Alice forgot several verses toward the middle did not seem to matter the least bit.)

At the end of it all, the doctor was sweating bullets. It was clear she had no idea what was ailing Alice, though Alice wondered if such an examination could reveal anything important in the first place. The physicians, healers and mystics that came after her were not any better, and after the sixth examination Alice was beginning to think that 'examinations' were not the best method to properly treat Spontaneous Vanishing.

The White Queen must have guessed the same. After the seventh physician who had seen her was escorted out - a tall blue lizard who brought with him all manner of strange contraptions that seemed more fit for mountain climbing than a medical examination - Mirana entered, the doors gently closed behind her.

"How are you feeling?" the Queen asked first, and Alice sighed and sat herself back down on the bed, resting her hands in her lap.

"Quite fine, actually. And according to all the physicians so far, I'm as healthy as a horse. Healthier, actually. I'd like to see a horse recite You Are Old, Father William with any semblance of accuracy."

The White Queen smiled, but slowly shook her head. "I meant how you were feeling, not how you were feeling, my dear."

Alice's own smile slipped. As ever, the White Queen's very presence was comforting and warm, making Alice feel as though she could tell her anything. Well, almost anything. "Confused," Alice admitted. "Afraid." Her hands clasped each other. "Is there no record of this ever happening in Underland, your Majesty?"

The Queen's expression grew grim. "Oh yes, there is. That is the very thing that concerns me." Mirana glided to the chair nearest the bed and gracefully settled beside it, resting an arm on the back of the chair. "It has happened before, though not for some time, and the accounts are regrettably sparse." In reply to Alice's continued stare, the Queen offered an apologetic smile. "I admit to busying myself in the library since you have arrived."

Alice swallowed. "And what do the accounts say of the fate of those afflicted with this condition?" The White Queen's expression told Alice everything she needed to know. Alice might have laughed, but surely she would have seemed mad. Not that madness was an offence here. "So no cure, I'm guessing."

"And no known cause, I'm afraid. The scattered accounts read more like children's rhymes than medical records, and the fates of those afflicted are equally as vague." The Queen closed the distance between them and knelt before Alice, taking her hands in her own. It felt wildly inappropriate for a Queen to be kneeling before her in any fashion, but Alice knew Mirana was just about as concerned with propriety as she was. "We will get to the bottom of this, Alice. I will do all in my power to see that you are safe."

Alice offered her a smile. "I appreciate it, your Majesty, but I don't want to burden you with this. There's a chance it might not even happen again." The lie bit her on its way out, and it was clear from the pointed way in which Mirana eyed her that the Queen was not fooled.

"It is no burden, Alice. As always, the choice is yours, but I would greatly prefer you stay here in the castle for the time being. Physicians don't seem to have the answers we seek, but there are other options!" She stood up, still holding tightly to Alice's hands. "I have a few potions that may help stabilize your condition for the moment, and although I know you requested this matter stay between us, would you allow me to call on Chessur? I'll be sure to be discreet."

Alice nodded. "I expect there's no one better to consult in matters of disappearing."

"You are quite right." The Queen released her hands, her own returning to their usual placement up by her puffy shoulders, dainty as ever. "I shall leave you for now. I fear if I bar Tarrant from seeing you for any longer, he may go mad." They exchanged a look, and the Queen cleared her throat. "You know what I mean."

"Has he been difficult?" Alice asked worriedly.

"Not difficult, no. But I've never seen him so fretful. If he had it his way, I don't believe he would have left your side for a single moment. I fear he may try and stay in your quarters tonight."

Alice glanced around; there was certainly enough room for an overnight guest, if it came to that. There was no one she trusted more than the Hatter; if he expressed an interest to stay near her, she wouldn't find it disagreeable in the slightest. Would such a thing be terribly improper here in Underland? And despite her own repulsion of what is proper, shouldn't the thought of sleeping so near a man she is not married to concern her, even a little?

More importantly, should the thought of it make her heart race so?

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The rest of Alice's afternoon and evening was spent seeing several more so-called experts, including Chessur, who came just as soon as he was called for. He tried many evaporation techniques on Alice, including making her disappear completely, but in the end it hadn't been the same. When Chessur helped her to vanish, she still felt like herself. Thought and feeling remained, she just couldn't see her own reflection in the mirror. After some deliberation, Chessur admitted that whatever was afflicting Alice was not something he was familiar with, but he intended to work with the Queen to see if they could brew something that could help. Although Chessur hadn't been any more helpful than the various physicians Alice had seen, after he left she felt more hopeful than she had all day.

Into the evening, the Queen ordered that no one else was allowed to poke or prod Alice any more today, which Alice was grateful for. She was exhausted after everything, and on a normal night she might have wanted some peace and quiet, but the thought of being alone was not a very attractive one. Or would alone be better? She wasn't certain she wanted anyone to see her succumb to nothingness again, but did she want to blink out of existence without a single soul around her? Her head was hurting. This was all so troubling.

There came a knock on the door, and for a moment Alice worried she was due for another examination before she remembered the Queen's order. There was only one person it could be, then.

"Come in, Hatter." she called.

Notes:

Next chapter is Hatter POV!

Chapter 4: The Dark Voice

It had been a dreadfully long time since Tarrant had been allowed to see Alice. Or was it? It was hard to tell, he'd never had a good sense of Time. Whether it had been hours or minutes, it felt like an eternity. What if Alice faded again? Tarrant wasn't certain of his own helpfulness were it to happen again. He hadn't done anything the first time it had happened, after all. He'd merely found himself reaching for her, unable to touch her. He couldn't have been more helpless.

For some time, Tarrant paced the white halls as he watched physician after physician come and go, every single one of them entering the room with their chests puffed out and leaving with their shoulders slumped. It was obvious none of them had a single clue how to help. Tarrant could have bitten his fingernails down to their beds if he hadn't been keeping his fingers occupied by gripping his hat so very tightly.

Of all the Underlandians for this to happen to, why did it have to be Alice? His Alice? Vanishing, of all things? Perhaps it was because she wasn't from Underland in the first place. The mere thought squeezed something in Tarrant's chest painfully, making it hard to breathe. Would she be saved if she went back Upland? No, no. If that were the case, certainly the Queen would have seen fit to send her back first thing. Though Tarrant supposed Alice was particularly unique; she was the only person from Upland to ever visit Underland, at least of which he was aware. Nothing was impossible.

'It coud be yer fault, ye slurvish brute.' came a dark voice in his head. 'Havin such thouchts, ye coud have afflictit her wi yer salacious cravins.'

"Nonsense," Tarrant muttered to himself, though his guilt was palatable. "I would never wish something like this on anyone, let alone Alice."

'It isnae aboot wishing, is it?' the voice continued tauntingly. 'It's yer desire. 'If I canae have her, na ane can'…?'

Tarrant shook his head, silencing that voice with a good jostle.

As of late, he'd been ignoring quite a lot of niggling thoughts, thoughts that often plagued him when he found himself spending time with his very favorite person. Thoughts that didn't enter his mind when he was in the company of his other friends. Thoughts he'd never had for anyone for as long as he could remember. A part of him always worried about the appropriateness of those thoughts, why they existed, and how repulsed Alice would be if she knew his mind was filled with such things.

He worried that somehow, someway, those thoughts - those selfish, wicked thoughts - would hurt his dear Alice. Tarrant could not bear the idea.

Tarrant watched as the Queen herself arrived in the corridor, checking with her guards as to how long Alice had been with the latest doctor. Tarrant approached, fingers wringing the life out of his hat.

"Your Majesty," he murmured anxiously, "any word? No one will tell me anything at all."

The Queen placed a bracing hand on his elbow. "Breathe, Tarrant. Not one of these doctors have found a single thing wrong with her yet. Is that not good news?"

Despite her uplifting words, the Queen looked unmistakingly troubled. Anyone else might have been easily convinced that all was well, but Tarrant had known Mirana for a terribly long time, and he knew better than most how good the Queen was at masking the seriousness of a situation.

"What have you found, your Majesty?" he asked. The Queen's smile slipped, as did her gentle hold on his elbow. She sighed.

"I've not learned anything that will help our Alice, I fear," she answered him softly. "Only that she is not the first to experience it. Though it's been so long since anyone's seen or heard of it happening, the records are anything but helpful."

"No cure, then," Tarrant assumed aloud.

"Or cause, I'm afraid," the Queen sighed. "I'm here to tell Alice all I know."

Tarrant perked up. "May I accompany you, your Majesty?" he asked. "It's been such an awfully long time since I've seen her, and I really should see her you know, as her friend, and I-"

"Tarrant," the Queen stopped his rambling with a word and a pointed look. Her expression quickly became soft, understanding. "I would like to speak with Alice alone, for a moment. I'm sure she's feeling overwhelmed as it is, what with so many unwelcome guests in and out."

Tarrant stepped back slowly, nodding, a hard lump in his throat. "Of course," he choked out.

The Queen smiled. "I'm sure Alice will want to see you, Tarrant. She will call for you when she sees fit for your company. You may wait out here until then, and I have arranged a room for you just across the hall if you would feel better staying close for the moment."

Stay he would, of course, whether the Queen made it comfortable for him or not. He couldn't imagine being anywhere but at Alice's side until he was absolutely certain she was better.

He wanted to be by her side, always. Perhaps that was the problem.

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Shortly after Chessur left Alice's temporary quarters, the order was issued that Alice was not to see any more doctors until the morrow. Surely Alice would want to be alone now, wouldn't she? Or was the opposite true in such a situation? Either way, he could at least ask. He was so terribly antsy. If he stayed away from her much longer, he feared he might disappear himself.

Tarrant knocked on the tall white doors, and heard Alice's voice respond almost immediately.

"Come in, Hatter."

Tarrant let himself inside, his eyes immediately falling on Alice sitting on the edge of the bed once again. The sight of Alice whole and in one beautiful piece filled him with so much relief and joy he was nearly knocked off his feet.

"Don't even think about asking me how I'm feeling," Alice said before he could even open his mouth. "I've had enough of that question to last me several lifetimes, at least."

Tarrant giggled. "How about a riddle, then?"

"Maybe later," Alice smiled. "I believe I'm far too exhausted for a riddle. Do think of a good one for me, though."

"I have just the one. I'll tell you tomorrow." Tarrant said. Alice did look tired, Tarrant could tell. It was all the more obvious simply because Alice was so rarely exhausted by anything at all. She always had a brilliance to her, a muchness that could outshine even the brightest star. Even after single-handedly defeating an ancient, evil beast she hadn't lost her shine, not at all.

"I expect you'll want to rest, after the day you've had," Tarrant said, averting his eyes, though he still caught the way Alice glanced over at him. "The Queen has allowed me to stay the night, so I'll be just across the hall if you have need for anything."

"Oh," Alice answered him. She sounded strangely disappointed. "I suppose you must have had quite the day as well, all on my account. You must be just as tired."

Tarrant shook his head. "Not at all! I imagine I could even futterwacken if the occasion called for it."

Alice tilted her head, seemingly in thought. "Is that so? Well… I wouldn't mind a bit of company, if you're certain you wouldn't rather get some rest."

Tarrant stepped further into the room. "Of course I don't mind, but… What about you? You were just speaking of how exhausted you were."

"I suppose I was," Alice muttered. Was that disappointment in her voice again? Tarrant didn't like the sound of it, didn't like to hear his Alice sounding so forlorn about anything. What could he do? Surely he couldn't suggest he stay here with her tonight, could he? Alice wouldn't like that one bit. That sort of thing was probably considered wholly unacceptable in Upland. Though, didn't Alice usually enjoy behaving improperly? No, not in this case. And if she knew the wicked thoughts that sometimes dillied and dallied through the dark corners of his mind…

"I'll leave you to get some well-needed rest, then," Tarrant forced out. "I'll be just across the hall if you need me."

He turned to leave, his heart seeking to pound its way through his ribs. Alice's voice suddenly halted him firmly in his tracks.

"D-don't leave," Alice called, and Tarrant froze to the spot as though he'd been nailed to the floor. Tarrant turned. Alice rose from the bed, her hands fidgeting at her waist. "If you wouldn't mind, might you stay a bit longer?" she asked him, and Tarrant saw a faint flush fall over her cheeks. "I'm…" she sighed, defeatedly. "I'm frightened of being alone just at the moment."

Tarrant eyed her silently for a moment, several different voices and personalities fighting to burst out of him all at once. "I'm happy to stay for as long as you need me to," he finally said, very quickly.

"Till I fall asleep?" Alice ventured.

"All night, if it would put you at ease," Tarrant answered her, again too quickly. He wasn't often aghast at his own words, but just now he couldn't believe his audacity. However, Alice smiled at him, breathing a sigh of unmistakable relief.

"It would, actually. If it isn't too much of a bother."

Tarrant wasn't certain he could ever find the words to express how little the idea bothered him.

Notes:

Not-at-all awkward sleepover in the next chapter!

Chapter 5: Catch the Ten

Right off the bat, Tarrant wasn't sure what to do with his hands. Or his legs. Or any part of him, really. In all his years, Tarrant had never spent the evening - the night - with anyone aside from Thackery and Mally, who had often been his flatmates, so it really wasn't quite the same. And this was Alice. Did that make it easier or more difficult? Easier, certainly. He and Alice were such good friends, they immensely enjoyed one another's company. And yet…

Why did it feel like he was doing something wrong?

Alice emerged from the washroom just as Tarrant finished making up his own bed on the floor, and when his gaze drew up toward her, he knew exactly why he was feeling so uneasy.

Alice's hair was still damp from her bath, her golden waves straighter and darker, strewn wildly over her shoulders. She was dressed in a white nightdress that was simple in design, frilled at the wrists and across the neckline. The fine fabric clung to her slim body in such an unfairly attractive way that Tarrant struggled to tear his eyes away from her, his panic mounting. How could he have such thoughts about his dear friend at a time like this, when she was feeling so distressed?

"Are you certain you're alright, sleeping on the floor?" Alice asked him. Tarrant pulled himself together as much as he could and summoned a bright smile.

"Oh Alice, I can sleep anywhere at all. It's one of my talents."

Alice hummed, sitting on the edge of the bed while rubbing a cloth through her damp hair. "I rarely slept through the night when I was younger, so I became quite accomplished at sleeping anywhere but in my own bed. I suppose it's a talent of mine, as well."

"A talent anyone should be lucky to have," Tarrant pointed out. "Suppose one finds themselves without a bed when they're in need of sleep? Without a talent like Anywhere Sleeping, they might never sleep again!"

Alice smiled drowsily. "A necessary talent, then," she said, hiding her yawn behind her hand. "Though on this occasion, I'm glad I have a bed. I could sleep at this very moment, if only my hair wasn't so wet."

Tarrant hummed, sitting cross-legged on his makeshift bed. "We should find a rather dry activity to do, then, so that you can get some rest."

For a moment, Alice seemed to be remembering something humorous. "I know from experience that lectures don't work, no matter how dry the topic is. Do you have anything in mind?"

Tarrant frowned in thought, finally deciding to check his various pockets for inspiration. For a moment he worried it was a fruitless effort - every item on his person was a tool of his trade, in some way or another - but finally he found an old pack of cards hidden away in a jacket pocket and an idea struck him.

"Card games can be awfully dry," he said, and Alice left the bed to join him on the ground, sitting herself across from him. "Shall we play Catch the Ten?"

"I've never played," Alice said, interested. "Show me."

Tarrant cut the cards and dealt their hands as he explained the rules. Surprising him not one bit, Alice picked up on the game immediately, drawing a high value trick on her very first turn. They played for a time, chatting idly as they went along. It turned out to be not nearly as dry as either of them were hoping - Tarrant supposed card games were much dryer if one was playing with strangers, or out of social obligation - but Alice seemed to be enjoying herself, which was good enough for him.

"Jack of trumps eleven," Alice announced, sounding very satisfied with herself. She revealed the card and placed it with the rest of her hand. Her eyes scanned her cards. "Does this mean I've won?"

Tarrant did the same and counted up the points in his head. He beamed at her. "Well done, my dear! You've won the very first game of Catch the Ten you've ever played."

"There's something to be said for beginner's luck," Alice said, though she seemed unmistakably pleased. "Come, let's go another round. My hair is still damp."

Tarrant dealt them new hands, and their second game began. Before the third turn, Alice's earlier enthusiasm seemed to wilt. A surge of worry rose in Tarrant's throat.

"We could always play another game, if you prefer," he offered gently. Alice's eyes swept up to regard him in surprise, and quickly she shook her head, eyes darting away again.

"It isn't that. It's just…" she sighed. She seemed so tired again. "I was having such a good time, I'd almost forgotten why I was here in the first place."

A brief silence followed Alice's words. Tarrant hadn't forgotten for a moment, but he couldn't say that of course; so what could he say? Was there anything to say in this sort of situation? He hated for Alice to worry, but it seemed ghastly to pretend as though that moment during their picnic hadn't happened at all.

"Everything is going to be just fine," Tarrant said gently, attempting to convince himself just as much. "It's only happened once, after all! Perhaps it's just as you said and it will never trouble you again."

Alice's expression became strained. She looked away almost guiltily, and Tarrant's heart froze in his chest.

"...Alice?"

"I wanted to tell you," Alice said apologetically, "but there was such a lot happening, and I didn't want to worry you any more than I already had." Her eyes rose to meet his. "I'm sorry, Hatter."

Tarrant was hurriedly waving off her apology before she'd even gotten through it. Wasn't it more appropriate for him to apologize, seeing as how Alice felt as though she couldn't confide in him about something so terribly important?

"Never your mind, my dear." There was a short but tense silence between them. "When?" he asked her softly. She winced.

"Shortly after we arrived here," she admitted.

Tarrant's chest was so tight he could barely speak. Had it happened when he'd stepped out for a moment to have some tea sent to her room? It had only been for a moment, but he'd felt something was off when he saw her on the floor.

"I feel terrible for not telling you," Alice murmured miserably.

Tarrant shook his head. "Don't be," he said, wanting nothing more than to reassure her. "Though… If I may say so, I'd rather you tell me if it happens again."

"I will," Alice promised firmly. "I would have told you then, but… It's hard to explain, really. I suppose I hoped if I didn't mention it, I could pretend it hadn't happened. It's silly, I know."

"Not at all," Tarrant told her softly. "I think we would both like to pretend it isn't happening."

Alice smiled sadly. "Perhaps if we both pretend hard enough, we can chase it off."

"Oh!" Tarrant exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "What a capital idea! Imagination is a powerful weapon, indeed, and our imaginations combined could certainly do the trick!" he frowned. "Why didn't I think of that?"

Alice's smile grew softer, more hopeful. "That's what we'll do, then." she said. She cleared her throat, squaring her shoulders. "Now, enough of this talk. Whose turn was it?"

They played for a while longer, until Alice was utterly exhausted and Tarrant ended up winning forty-one points on account of his opponent yawning too much.

Alice experimentally ran the drying cloth through her hair. "The game seemed to do the trick," she observed, standing up. "Though I'm not sure how dry Catch the Ten actually is, in the end."

Tarrant stood after, extending a hand to take the drying cloth from her. She handed it over and he folded it neatly, laying it on the nearby bureau.

"You'd best get on with the sleeping, my dear. A good rest, and you'll feel right as rain."

"Right as rain," Alice repeated as she pulled up the blankets and slipped underneath them, "What's so right about rain, anyway?"

"We promised to save the riddles for tomorrow," Tarrant said gently. He turned down the oil lamp, leaving the room almost entirely dark. "Goodnight, Alice."

The room fell silent. Usually when one was silent in a dark bedroom that was a good sign unless they tended to talk in their sleep, but that silence unsettled Tarrant now, and all he could think was how he couldn't see Alice, perhaps Alice wasn't there, perhaps she'd vanished the instant the light went out-

Tarrant turned the lamp up again, illuminating the entire room. He strode to the bed, his heart in his throat.

She was still there. Alice was already sleeping soundly, pale lips slightly parted to issue slow breaths, her no-longer-wet hair laid out over the pillows in waves. Tarrant could have collapsed from the simple relief of seeing her there sleeping. He couldn't believe how quickly she'd fallen asleep… She truly must have been fatigued.

Instead of trying to chase sleep himself, Tarrant sat himself in the chair nearest the bed, unable to look away from Alice's sleeping form. Was she really so trusting of him that she would slip off to sleep that quickly? Tarrant felt both flattered and guilt-ridden. Flattered that she trusted him so deeply, guilt-ridden that his own thoughts so frequently betrayed him when he was in her company. Even now he watched her as she slept like a man depraved.

Even so, he didn't want to look away. He feared if he turned the light out, she might disappear. He couldn't bear it if she did, couldn't bear not seeing her again. And he certainly couldn't pretend things weren't happening, no matter how much he wished he could.

Perhaps, then, keeping a watchful eye as she slept tonight wasn't as depraved as he feared it might be.

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For most of her life, Alice only ever had one dream. It was a dream about her time in Underland as a child, a reality that she hadn't been able to process and therefore the memories had become a whimsical dream. Ever since she'd returned to Underland and slayed the Jabberwocky, her dreams became just like everyone else's. She dreamed of impossible things, mostly, but at least they were different, and they were no longer only of her Wonderland.

Lately, however, many of them involved the Hatter.

This was one such dream. They were underneath that beautiful tree, having their picnic on that beautiful day. The Hatter's hand reached for hers. Alice lay her head on his shoulder. They were saying flowery things to each other, things that Alice never would have expected herself to say, but she was happy. Overwhelmingly, tremendously happy.

So then, why was this such a sad dream?

Alice woke with a start, her heart racing. She knew something was wrong, it was happening again, she was disappearing, and she sat up, gasping out the Hatter's name.

"I'm here!" the Hatter replied almost instantly, as though he'd been waiting just by her bedside. Alice glanced up to meet his large, worried green eyes. The bed dipped with his weight, and in a panic Alice reached out for him, but her hands went right through.

"Alice, don't leave, stay with me," the Hatter pleaded, and Alice desperately tried to focus on his voice, using it to anchor herself to reality. Her existence was slipping away so much more quickly than the previous times, like sand through a sieve. The Hatter was reaching for her, trying to touch her, but there was almost nothing left of her to touch. "Alice," he called, his expression so anguished it nearly broke whatever was left of Alice's heart. "My Alice, please come back, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! If you come back, I'll… I promise I'll..."

What could he possibly be apologizing for? Did the Hatter really think himself responsible for any of this? No, that wasn't right, it wasn't right at all. Alice had to tell him, had to set him straight about all this! She had to tell him that he was the only one who could bring her back from the nothingness, the only person she-

"HATTER!" Alice returned with the same abruptness she was growing unfortunately accustomed to, gasping as her lungs filled with air. No sooner had she reappeared than she was either being pulled into the Hatter's arms or she had rushed into them, she couldn't tell which. They held each other fiercely as Alice gasped for air, her heart battering her chest black and blue. Each time she pulled herself back from that horrible nothingness it was becoming more and more taxing, more and more exhausting. She gripped the Hatter's sleeve, her other arm desperately gripping the back of his shirt. He held her tightly to him, stroking her hair, murmuring calming words into her hair.

They stayed like that for a long moment, just breathing.

"What's happening to me?" Alice whispered, too tired to conceal her fear anymore. "Hatter, I don't want to disappear. I don't want to leave."

The Hatter squeezed her a little more firmly in his arms. "You won't. I know that you won't. I've got it, Alice! I know what's afflicting you. Or rather, who."

Alice tried to turn her head, but the Hatter was holding her so tightly she only managed to bury her face in his shoulder. "What…?" was all she managed to mumble before her vision began to spin. She was so tired, even more so now, but something about the Hatter's voice was deeply troubling. She couldn't fall asleep now, not when the Hatter sounded so bothered.

"You're going to be alright, Alice. You have my word." The Hatter's fingers threaded through her hair. She felt his breathing stutter in his chest. "After you wake, this will never trouble you again."

As Alice drifted to sleep again - despite her best efforts - she could feel herself being gently lowered onto the pillows, and tucked under the blankets. A rough but tender finger brushed over her cheek.

"Fairfarren, Alice."

Notes:

*The humorous thing that Alice is remembering is in chapter 3 of the original book (A Caucus-Race and a long Tale). After escaping the pool of tears, the Mouse attempts to give a lecture to dry everyone off. It doesn't work.

Chapter 6: The Vanishment

When Alice woke next, the room was bright with the late-morning sun streaming through the tall windows, and she was alone.

Slowly, still caught in a dream-like haze, Alice rose from the bed, rubbing her face and glancing around. She certainly felt well-rested, but there was a heaviness in her heart, as well. For several long moments, Alice sat in bed, trying to remember the events of the night. Was it all a dream, or had she almost vanished again? The Hatter was there - whether he was a dream Hatter or not was still up for debate - so if anyone should know whether or not she'd almost disappeared again, it would be him. Alice pulled the blankets aside and looked around the room.

"Hatter?" The bed the Hatter had made for himself on the floor looked untouched. There was no sign of him anywhere, in fact, the make-shift bed and an old pack of cards being the only proof that he'd been here at all, else Alice might have worried she'd dreamed all of it up. It would be a troubling thing to lose sight of how long one had been dreaming; how ever would you know the last time you'd taken tea? Or bathed?

Something on the bureau caught Alice's eye. It was the drying cloth the Hatter had taken and folded for her the night before, though now there seemed to be a piece of parchment sitting neatly on top. Alice walked to the bureau and picked up the parchment, her eyes skimming the haphazard handwriting.

Dearest Alice,

Please forgive me my wicked thoughts. It was never my intention to hurt you, but I fear I have done just that. It is my hope that if I leave, you will no longer be plagued by my wrongdoing.

I wish you well.

Your Hatter and friend,

Tarrant Hightopp

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The White Queen was silent for a long moment, her black eyes fixed off somewhere far away as she processed the words Alice had recited.

"Oh my," she finally said.

"That mad dolt," Alice said furiously, pacing back and forth across the floor. "What does he mean by this? What nonsense!"

The Queen appeared to pull herself together. She cleared her throat. "So, is this why I was told you were seen running through the halls in your night clothes earlier?"

Alice crossed her arms firmly over her chest. "I wasn't thinking," she admitted dolefully. "As soon as I read the note, I lost my senses."

The Queen waved a hand dismissively. "No need to explain. This is a troubling development, to say the least. Though…" Her dark brows raised in a questioning way. "Are you absolutely certain Tarrant's concerns are unwarranted?"

Alice frowned. "I… suppose not, but I don't believe it regardless!"

The Queen's lips pressed together thoughtfully. "I'm inclined to agree with you."

"We have to go find him!" Alice exclaimed. "There's not a moment to lose! He can't have gotten far, and surely someone has seen him since last night!"

The Queen nodded. "I will send out a search party at once. All I ask, Alice, is that you wait here while they find the Hatter and bring him back."

"What?" Alice hadn't meant to sound so aghast, but she couldn't help herself. "I can't just sit around while-"

"Alice," the Queen cut her off gently, reaching out to gently touch Alice's shoulders. "You've had another episode, which proves you are not well. You will not be any help to the Hatter if you've disappeared."

"I'll be no help here, either!" Alice pointed out. "No one knows what's wrong with me, your Majesty. I'm just as likely to disappear in this room than anywhere else."

"That may be so," the Queen replied calmly, "but I would feel better if you were to stay and rest. Chessur is assisting me with brewing a potion that may help you, and if you are willing, there are several more experts I have called upon."

Alice fell silent, conflicted. It seemed so ungrateful to dismiss all the White Queen was trying to do to help her. And she supposed the Queen had a point; she wouldn't be much help in the search if she vanished herself. Finally, Alice offered a stiff nod. The Queen smiled, patting her shoulder lightly.

"I promise I will send word the very moment we find the Hatter."

"Thank you, your Majesty," Alice replied. "For everything."

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It was mid-day, and Alice hadn't heard anything. Another physician had seen to her with the same success as all the others, and Alice hadn't the mind to entertain any more doctors for the moment. She was terribly distracted. Did the Hatter really mean to leave for good? Where was he planning to go? The thought of never seeing the Hatter again was terribly unpleasant. Alice had never expected to part from him after they'd reunited, and now she was facing the possibility of never seeing him again! And all for his supposed 'wicked thoughts'.

Though Alice found herself quite alone in the room, she audibly scoffed. Wicked thoughts indeed! If Alice were the betting kind, which she certainly was not, she would have easily bet that the Hatter had never had a truly wicked thought in his life. Plenty of mad thoughts, undoubtedly, but the thoughts of a mad person were not necessarily wicked.

Alice was distracted by her already distracting thoughts by a light tapping sound. She stopped her ceaseless pacing and looked around, listening, trying to determine where the sound was coming from. She was drawn to one of the windows nearest the bed, where she spotted a flap of bright blue wings outside.

"Absolem!"

Alice flew to the window and flipped the latch up, throwing the window open. The blue butterfly flew into the room, fluttering casually around the ceiling for a moment before dropping down in front of Alice. She held her hands out for him, and he landed lightly in her palm, his pretty wings drawing up above his back.

"You certainly took your time," Absolem admonished in his usual drawl.

"I'm sorry," Alice answered, bringing her hands nearer to her face. "You're so very small, and your wings are so very delicate." Absolem frowned pointedly. Alice remembered suddenly that he did not take kindly to his small size being discussed, so she quickly changed the subject. "I'm glad to see you. Why have you come?"

"I heard that you had come down with The Vanishment," he said, grooming his head with his tiny front legs. "I've come to say my goodbyes."

"Goodbyes," Alice repeated sullenly. Everyone she'd spoken to so far had been so determined to help, so full of hope for Alice's recovery. She should have known that Absolem would have the opposite reaction. He was never one to sugar-coat anything. "Have you heard of this ailment before, then?"

"Yes," Absolem replied. "I have seen more of Underland's history than most."

"So it's hopeless then," Alice sighed. "I'm fated to disappear."

Absolem fluttered from Alice's hand, landing nearby on the edge of the bureau. Alice followed him. "Of course not, silly girl," he drawled. "Nothing is hopeless. But you seem content to allow it to continue, so it will take you sooner or later."

Alice bristled. "I'm not doing it on purpose!" she argued. "It's been completely random, every time. How can I possibly fend off randomness?"

"If you think it all randomness, then I suppose it must be," Absolem returned. Alice sighed defeatedly, leaning against the bureau.

"Oh, how I wish you weren't always so cryptic." Her thoughts were once again with the Hatter, wondering where he was now, what he was doing. "If I'm such a lost cause, then perhaps you should join the search for the Hatter. He's left because he doesn't think it's randomness at all, he thinks he's the cause."

"Perhaps he is," Absolem flew back into the air, fluttering around Alice's head. She shot him a pointed look.

"Of course he isn't!"

"How can you be so certain?" Absolem challenged. "No one remembers The Vanishment. No one knows what might cause it."

"The Hatter would never do anything to hurt me," Alice replied passionately. "Not even in his thoughts. And even if such a thing were possible, I would never disappear simply because someone else wished it so! I wouldn't allow it!"

Absolem drifted back down, and Alice offered him the back of her hand. He stared up at her, adjusting his monocle. "Are you saying that nothing should happen to you without your permission?" he asked, as though he were growing bored with the conversation.

"That's right," Alice replied firmly.

"Then perhaps you ought to ask yourself how it's come to happen, and who exactly is responsible for it all." Absolem pointed out, before leaving Alice's hand and fluttering off toward the open window. It seemed butterflies, even talking ones, found it very distasteful to stay in the same spot for too long. "So long, Alice. I do hope you don't disappear, it would be such a tremendous waste if you did."

And with that he was gone, blue wings framed against a gold-hued sky, leaving Alice with quite a lot to think about.

Notes:

my favorite thing about Absolem is that he shows up, says something vaguely wise, refuses to elaborate, and then hits the bong. frickin legend

Chapter 7: To Where We've Always Been

Tarrant never had many belongings to speak of. Strictly speaking, an accomplished Hatter owned very little but tended to have quite a lot, but Tarrant did not currently have his own millinery, and so he owned even less. With the Red Queen's defeat he had once again been appointed the Royal Hatter, but he'd been content to do his work in the Queen's castle. It was less irksome than having a shop of his own. He'd thought of having his own hattery, of course. More recently, he had indulged himself with thoughts of Alice there with him, trying on hats, sipping tea with him during his breaks, helping him close for the night before pressing a kiss to his cheek and-

He stifled that thought, pressed it down deep. Those sorts of thoughts were the reason he was leaving, after all, and he could hardly stomach them.

After packing up his few belongings, Tarrant set out. He wasn't certain where he was going, but he supposed he'd know once he got there. He'd left a note for Thackery and Mally. There was no use telling them face-to-face; Mally would never let him go off like this, and Thackery- well, Thackery was far too mad to argue. It wouldn't do to think about all he was leaving behind, however. He'd made up his mind. If Alice could be saved, Tarrant had no qualms about leaving Marmoreal, Witzend or even Underland altogether. If it was for her…

He'd have his memories, at least. That's where Alice would live from now on. Tarrant suspected he could live quite contentedly on memories alone. It was more than he deserved, far more.

The sky was growing darker, golden streaks running through the blue-green that was quickly dissipating over the mountains. Tarrant had walked for so long that he found himself in the northern woods of Queast, so he switched to a more leisurely pace. There was no point in hurrying, after all, if he wasn't even certain as to where he was going. And certainly no one was out searching for him, either; everyone likely agreed that it was best for him to leave given the circumstances.

This was why it was such an odd thing to suddenly hear something crashing through the woods behind him, something huge and loud, and odder still to hear his own name being called. Tarrant stopped, giving his head a good shake. Surely he was hearing things. He continued on, but that crashing sound was drawing nearer, and the voice calling his name sounded so like Alice that Tarrant nearly thought he'd completely come undone, he must truly be as mad as his trade.

"Hatter!"

Tarrant turned, his trunk falling from his hand and landing in the grass with a dull thump. Before his very eyes, the Bandersnatch broke through the tree line and came to a skidding halt, its rider sliding off of its back and landing nimbly on the forest floor. Tarrant almost couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"Alice?" Tarrant barely got out the word before Alice was running toward him, and in an instant she was flinging her arms around his neck and the both of them crashed to the ground, his hat flying off his head, an abundance of leaves and twigs helping to ease their fall.

When the flurry of leaves settled, Tarrant's eyes blinked open, and he found Alice sitting on top of him, looking equal parts ecstatic and furious. Her pale face was flush, and a few orange and red leaves had found their way into her wild hair. She was breathtaking. Tarrant had no words, had no idea how it had come to this. Fortunately for him, Alice was indifferent to his speechlessness.

"Do you have any idea how worried I've been?" Alice demanded, her eyes becoming glossy with emotion. "To leave in the middle of the night like that! Did you really expect me not to come looking for you? It was selfish, it was boorish, it was - is! - terribly impolite!"

Tarrant managed to pull himself up into a sitting position, though it was difficult with Alice still straddling his legs. "How in the world did you find me?"

Alive jabbed a thumb behind her at the Bandersnatch. "Banders' nose is nearly as good as Bayad's, and he's twice as fast."

"Alice, I… Y-you see I was just-"

"Don't," Alice warned, and Tarrant's lips sealed obediently. "I read your letter, I know exactly what you thought you were doing. I'd never read such ridiculousness! Do you really think you could ever hurt me?"

"It wasn't intentional!" Tarrant blurted sincerely. "I never meant for it to happen, really, but it must have been me, it must have been!" His eyes darted away; he couldn't look at her. "If you only knew the deceitful thoughts in my mind, the horrible, grasping, wicked things-"

Alice's hands rose to cradle Tarrant's face, gently turning his head to look her squarely in the eyes. "Hat- Tarrant. Do you want me to disappear?"

Tarrant nearly gasped. "Of course not! Never, never ever!"

Alice's lips pulled in a warm smile. Her fingers curled inward to stroke her knuckles soothingly along Tarrant's jaw. A chill flew down his spine. "Tell me about your wicked thoughts?"

Tarrant had a strong urge to flee from such a request, and he might have, had Alice not been sitting practically in his lap. "Please, Alice," he pleaded with her instead, his voice barely above a whisper, "don't ask me that."

"Tell me." Alice persisted. Tarrant swallowed. Despite her encouraging ministrations along the hollow of his cheek, his gaze once again turned away. Perhaps if he told her, she would understand. She would let him leave, and she could be safe. Though he could hardly stand to imagine what she would think of him after such a confession.

"I… Often think of you behaving in a way much more… Friendly. With me." Tarrant began. His throat bobbed with nearly every word, as if his own body was struggling to keep the words inside him where they belonged.

"Go on," Alice urged gently.

"H-holding hands," Tarrant continued, beginning to feel very much as though he was destroying their precious friendship with every syllable. "S-strolling arm in arm. A kiss on the cheek." His blood was pounding in his ears, nearly deafening him. To say these sorts of things out loud! He could never look her in the eye again.

Alice made a sound like a huff. Or was that a laugh? "We already do nearly all of those things," she pointed out. Somehow, she didn't sound nearly as horrified as Tarrant was expecting.

"No no, it's different," Tarrant insisted. "And there's more. I've often thought of how I would feel if you were courted by someone else. For some time, the thought alone was unbearable… So much so that one day, as I mulled it over, I thought perhaps…" The words struggled to emerge. One of Alice's hands cupped the side of his jaw, gently. "I thought perhaps I shouldn't want to see you with anyone but myself. I wanted you all to myself. Such a selfish, prickly, poisonous thought. How could a horrible idea such as that not cause you harm?"

Banders had curled up into a comfortable ball for a nap as they spoke, his soft snoring the only sound to be heard in the otherwise calm and quiet woods. Tarrant waited, ashamed, anticipating either Alice's revulsion or perhaps a smart slap across the face; when neither came, he chanced glancing at her.

Alice was smiling, a small, rosy little smile that he wasn't sure he'd seen on her before. It was terribly befitting, and for a moment, Tarrant wished he could see that smile on her always.

Alice's eyes met his. Her hands fell to rest on his chest, fingers trailing over the front of his coat. Tarrant forgot how to breathe.

"Do you know what I thought of each time I started to disappear?" Alice asked him. Tarrant shook his head mutely. "Each time I felt myself slipping away, I thought of you, Hatter." she said. "Thinking of you brought me back each time. I dare say my thoughts are just as wicked as yours, if not more so. But those wicked thoughts brought me back, again and again. They made me whole."

Tarrant stared at Alice wordlessly, watching her as she sat back on her heels, careful not to make Tarrant too uncomfortable.

"When I was a child, my father told me that I must always believe in myself, come what may. I fear that lately I haven't believed in myself very much at all. When I left Underland after slaying the Jabberwocky, nothing felt impossible. I could do whatever I set my mind to, and for a while, it really seemed as though I could live my life as I pleased. But Upland isn't like Underland at all. I hit a wall so massive I couldn't possibly overcome it; there was no Vorpal Sword, and nothing to slay, after all." Alice sighed, though she didn't seem forlorn. She seemed liberated, somehow. "When I came to live here, I felt more at home than I ever did. I started to think Underland was where I truly belonged, and without realizing it, I started wishing that I could belong to you, too. I wanted to be with you always. But I was so frightened of harming our friendship I buried it all deep down, so deeply that I must have stopped believing in myself altogether. Who would have expected that I would really start to disappear because of it?"

Tarrant's mind was spinning. There were too many things to think about, too many impossible things. Alice hadn't rejected him, she wanted to be with him, and her disappearing-

"It wasn't my fault?" he asked, his throat tight. He felt close to tears. "It wasn't my wicked thoughts?"

Alice shook her head. "No, dear Tarrant. It's called The Vanishment, and the more I read about it in those books the Queen let me borrow, the more I realized I was doing it to myself. Though I can tell you with much certainty that it shall never happen again; I'm in no mood to disappear today, or any other day for that matter." She grinned. "I dare say you were the one who saved me, in the end."

Tarrant matched her smile, his heart fit to burst with the outpouring of joy he felt rocketing through every inch of his body. "You have never needed saving, my dear. You are the strongest person I have ever met, without a doubt." His hand rose to cover hers resting on his chest. He drew himself up as much as he was able, lightly clearing his throat. "In any case, since we seem to be equally matched in terms of our wickedness, I would very much like for us to be together."

"I would like that too," Alice laughed.

"I promise to court you properly," Tarrant continued adamantly. He glanced at the state of them: Alice sitting on top of him, their hands clasped together and no chaperone to be seen for miles unless one were to consider Banders a suitable chaperone, which surely no one would. "Or perhaps not so properly, depending on how you want to look at it."

Alice nodded. Their hands found a way to twine together, the both of them beaming from it. "Considering all that has happened so far, I'm rather sure a proper courtship is out of the question."

Tarrant laughed a bit breathlessly. "That shan't be salvaged, then."

"I wouldn't think so. Though I'm still very much looking forward to being courted improperly, and all that may entail."

Tarrant felt a newfound surge of inspiration. His very blood felt ignited. "And after, Alice, I'd very much like to become your husband."

Alice's eyes widened. Her eyes were shining brightly, and this time Tarrant saw a stray tear squeeze from the corner of her eye and roll down her cheek. He wiped it away with the cuff of his shirt. He couldn't stop himself from touching her cheek as she'd done to him earlier, realizing for the first time that she wanted to be touched, it was no longer just a wicked thought in his wicked mind.

"Yes," Alice answered him, soft and sincere. "I'd like to become your wife."

Tarrant wasn't certain which of them leaned in, or perhaps both of them did, but soft, warm lips were closing over his and he was being kissed thoroughly. His eyes fell closed and he could have melted on the spot, he really could have, but somehow he held himself together and wrapped his arms around Alice's waist, pulling her in. Precisely none of his fantasies had ever prepared him for this, for what it felt like to kiss Alice, to embrace her this way. She was so warm, so soft, so perfect, nothing could possibly compare!

It felt so right, as though their lips were meant to fit together. The sensations that slipped between them - through them - felt like fulfilment, like the breeze on a beautiful summer's day, like the sun cresting over the mountains of Marmoreal, like the sweet scent of the forest, like fire and water and warmth and quiet and like finally there was something right in the world when it had been wrong for so long.

Alice's arms slid around Tarrant's neck and Tarrant moved, shifted, slipping out from beneath Alice and moved to cover her instead, gently pressing her into the leaf-coated forest floor. She hummed into his mouth, the single sweetest sound Tarrant had ever heard, and pulled him closer with an urgency Tarrant had never known from her before. Their bodies were dangerously flush, but Tarrant could hardly find it in himself to care. It was overwhelming. Alice was overwhelming, everything about her, and now that Tarrant knew what it felt like to touch her, to kiss her, he was not certain he could ever stop doing so.

Despite this strong feeling growing within him, they managed to pull apart by a hair's breadth, their noses brushing. A beautiful blush colored Alice's face, and her eyes were dark, so dark and blown wide and the sight of it stirred something nameless inside of Tarrant, something he wasn't certain he should be exploring just now. Later.

"Alice," Tarrant breathed, and he realized the name tasted different now, sweeter, stronger. "My Alice."

"My Hatter," Alice answered breathlessly, her fingers tracing feather-light over the curve of his jaw. "You promised me a riddle, you know."

"I did, didn't I?" Tarrant grinned. "Regrettably, just at the moment I believe I'm much more inclined to recite poetry."

Alice smiled. "Another time, then."

And she kissed him again.

Notes:

Make out now, court later! Underland dating logic

In the next chapter, Alice and Tarrant take a little trip Upland on important business :3

Chapter 8: An Unusual Chat

Alice was perfectly aware that it was an utterly mad idea. The Hatter knew it as well, though that only made it more appealing for him.

Presently, however, Alice wondered if she'd finally and thoroughly gone round the bend.

The looks on her mother and sister's faces were quite as bewildered as Alice had imagined they'd be. The sitting room had gone very quiet - even baby Edith was quiet as a mouse, laying mutely in her pram with wide eyes and a rattle held in one stationary, chubby hand - save for Lowell, who stood just behind the couch where Alice's mother and sister sat, awkwardly clearing his throat. Alice paid no mind to him. Although he'd proven himself to be a better man than Alice once feared, she had no obligation to like him.

"Sorry," her mother finally spoke, though she nearly sounded winded, "I must have misheard you, Alice. Did you say that you and-" her eyes moved to the Hatter, who sat beside Alice with his hat in his lap, "-this... gentleman, Mr. Hightopp, are engaged? To be married?"

"I did," Alice said, and beside her, the Hatter barely stifled a giddy laugh; he always had trouble containing himself whenever their engagement or marriage was mentioned. Margaret brought a hand to her mouth. Her mother sat back as though she'd just been told something scandalous.

"And it is so good to meet you, Mrs. Kingsleigh, Mrs. Manchester," the Hatter lisped excitedly. "Alice has told me so much about you both. I've never been to Upland myself, you see, so I never expected to be able to meet you!"

"Upland?" Alice's mother repeated, confused.

"London," Alice corrected, laying her hand on the Hatter's knee and smiling at him. "This is Tarrant's first time visiting London." Underlandians did not typically travel to Upland although it wasn't terribly difficult to do so, and although Alice didn't know the exact reason, based on McTwisp's musings alone it seemed they refrained simply because they found it distasteful. Alice didn't blame them. And for that matter, she assumed most people in Upland would feel much the same.

"Uh, h-how are you finding your stay, Mr. Hightopp?" Lowell asked. From the moment Alice and the Hatter had arrived, Lowell had seemed a bit on edge, as though he suspected the two of them had come by today simply to harass him. Alice supposed his concern wasn't completely unwarranted; on at least two occasions so far the Hatter had attempted to poke Lowell with sewing pins for sitting too close to Alice, hence Lowell's new position of safety behind the couch.

"It's terribly bright," the Hatter answered, frowning. "There's so much sky here. So much more sky than I'm used to! And you have such a lot of people walking around as if they have terribly important places to be. And the horses!"

"The... horses?" Alice's mother questioned, puzzled.

"They don't speak, of course," the Hatter continued seriously, as though this was a deeply troubling development. Which it was, of course, if only one spent any time in Underland to know the difference. "How do you expect to be carried from place to place by a horse who can't even do basic arithmetic? I don't trust it, not one bit."

Alice turned to the Hatter, touching a hand to his shoulder. "Though you still came all the way here in a cab," she pointed out encouragingly.

The Hatter grinned at her. "That is true, isn't it? Though if it hadn't been for my fathomless faith in you, my dear, I fear I would have rather walked! Not a word out of those horses, not a single word. It's unnatural!"

Margaret cleared her throat lightly. "If I might ask, Mr. Hightopp, where do you live if not in London?" she asked. "Scotland, perhaps?"

"Something like that," Alice answered for him. There was no sense in telling them the whole truth, though it wouldn't do to outright lie, either. Her mother and sister both exchanged a look and seemed to relax somewhat, as if the Hatter being from Scotland explained away some of his oddness.

A parlor maid brought in a tray of tea and set it down on the table between them. It was then that a strange stand-off occurred; Alice could tell that both her mother and Margaret were fighting the urge to immediately pour their guests some tea, but both looked unsure if they should be the one to do so. It was clear that this visit was so incredibly unorthodox that no one quite knew the etiquette to follow, or perhaps the whole idea of etiquette had broken down somewhere along the way. Beside her, the Hatter seemed almost fretful to see a tray of tea with no one pouring it.

Alice decided to take it upon herself, pouring everyone a steaming cup, even Lowell, simply because she was feeling particularly hospitable.

The Pouring of the Tea seemed to bring back some sense of social normality. Margaret thanked Alice and picked up her cup, blowing over it. "So, ah, how ever did the two of you become introduced?"

The Hatter glanced at Alice helplessly. On their way out of Underland, they had spoken of The Unmentionable Topics, things that probably shouldn't be discussed purely because it would be too impossible to explain. Unfortunately, nearly every detail of how they'd met was Unmentionable, making this question particularly difficult to answer.

"I suppose you could say we met in a dream," Alice decided finally. The Hatter smiled, laying his hand atop hers.

"Yes yes, a dream! A wonderful dream from which I pray I will never wake, isn't that right my dear?"

Her mother stood from the couch rather suddenly, her lips very thin. "Alice, may I speak with you in the next room?" Before Alice could reply, she added sharply, "Now?"

Alice stood, leaving her Hatter at the mercy of her sister, baby niece and brother-in-law - or were they at the mercy of him? - while she joined her mother in the next room.

As soon as her mother shut the doors behind them, she whirled on Alice with a face white as a sheet. "Alice, he's mad."

Alice nodded, unbothered. "Oh yes, I know."

"You know!" her mother repeated, aghast. She started to pace the room, worrying her hands. "Not a single letter in months, Alice, and then you turn up out of the blue with a suitor I've never heard of nor met, and you can't even tell me how the two of you were introduced! And knowing your dislike of what is proper, I can only imagine how this courtship has been handled thus far… The two of you showing up here like this, and without a chaperone!"

"It's all quite a lot to explain," Alice said, reaching for her mother's arm to calm her. The handling of their courtship thus far was, in every sense of it, a Very Unmentionable Topic. Her mother was likely to faint if she knew how often they were alone together, how often they touched, and although both Alice and the Hatter were eager to save Important Matters for their wedding night, they'd shared a good many kisses, as well. "He's a good man, mother. The best I've ever met, actually."

"You've just said he's mad!" her mother pointed out furiously.

"A mad person can be a good man," Alice argued. "How many thought father was mad? Tarrant is mad, yes, but he's also strong, sweet, courageous and so terribly skilled. Margaret once told me I wouldn't do better than a lord, but she was wrong, mother. Tarrant is so much better than any lord. He understands me, truly sees me for who I am."

Her mother finally ceased her pacing, staring into the unlit hearth for a long moment, considering. She turned, offering Alice a pleading look.

"This is all so terribly sudden, Alice."

"I know."

"Any other mother would have fainted on the spot, do you know that?" her mother said, and Alice felt a little relief only because she could hear the soft thread of teasing in her mother's voice. "I suppose years of being your mother has prepared me for almost anything."

"I'm sorry. I really didn't mean for this announcement to be so jarring, I really didn't."

Her mother sighed. She walked over to Alice and clasped her hands tightly. "I know nothing about him, for heaven's sake. Can he provide for you? Is he respectable, does he have a good position?"

"We can provide for each other very well, I promise. And where he lives, he's very well respected indeed. He's the best Hatter in his country, by far." He was also the only Hatter at the moment, but Alice was positive he was more skilled than any Hatter there ever was, in Underland or Upland. Alice squeezed her mother's hands in turn. "Aren't you going to ask me if I love him?"

Her mother's eyes softened. She released a long-suffering sigh. "I don't think I need to ask, do I? Your willingness to marry is proof enough of that." she said. "And although I find him to be a queer fellow, I don't believe I've ever seen a man so in love before."

Alice smiled. "We came for your blessing, mother, and I promise that once we're married we'll visit you and Margaret as often as we're able. But I need you to know that I'm going to marry Tarrant whether you give us your blessing or not."

Her mother was silent for a long moment, searching Alice's eyes for something Alice couldn't guess. After some time she smiled, her eyes shining with the threat of emotion.

"Your father would have liked him." she said, decisively. Alice felt her own eyes burning in turn.

"I think so too."

Her mother turned to offer her arm to Alice, who smiled before winding her arm around her mother's, clasping a hand over hers.

"Well," her mother said, "In any case, we'd better not keep your future husband waiting any longer. I'd very much like to get to know him a bit better."

"I'd like that," Alice replied. "Shall we?"

Notes:

It went better than expected! Things get a little steamy in the next chapter~

Chapter 9: The Dress

"May I open my eyes now?"

"Not yet, love," Tarrant said, leaving Alice by the door with her hands over her eyes to quickly fuss with the fringe on the train of the dress. When he was satisfied, or at least as satisfied as one could be with several hundred butterflies seeking to burst out of one's stomach, Tarrant joined Alice in the doorway, placing a hand gently on her waist to guide her further into the room.

"Alright," he said gently, his eyes trained on Alice's half-hidden face. "Open your eyes."

Alice lowered her hands. Her eyes fell on the dress near the center of the room and her expression changed, lit up, and Tarrant's heart squeezed and expanded all at once at the sight of her. She was so beautiful, she was so breathtaking, she was so his.

"Tarrant," Alice's voice was hushed, awestruck. She stepped toward the wire mannequin wearing her wedding dress, her gaze glued to it, moving along the flower-covered bust and down over the blue silk ruffles, and long, breezy train. "It's the most beautiful dress I've ever seen."

Tarrant's heart did a backflip in his chest. Though hats were certainly his area of expertise, Tarrant knew his way around fabric and had experience with almost any piece of clothing one could imagine. Regardless of his skill, he'd never worked so diligently on a dress before, and never for someone he adored so very much. And it was to be her wedding dress, of all things! His nerves had been up and down and all around for weeks now.

Which was silly, of course, because he knew Alice would have been content wearing anything at all so long as there were no corsets involved. And he would never consider a corset, for that matter. Who ever invented such stiff, uncomfortable things?

"Do you really like it?" Tarrant asked her, unable to hide his giddy grin. Alice finally turned to look at him, her face alight with a rosy smile and so much affection in her eyes that Tarrant nearly buckled at the knees.

"Of course I do," Alice answered him, her smile so bright and warm that Tarrant wanted to kiss her. Truthfully, though, there was rarely a moment Tarrant didn't want to kiss her. "I've never been particularly concerned with fashion, you know that, but I can honestly say I've never seen a dress more stunning! Nor have I ever been so excited to wear a dress. It's perfect."

Tarrant beamed at her. "If you think it's perfect, my dear, then it truly must be."

"May I try it on?" Alice asked eagerly. Tarrant's heart nearly stopped. He'd spent weeks making her dress, why did he never once consider that he was going to eventually see her wearing it? Could a man truly witness such a thing and not lose his senses completely?

"You should, shouldn't you?" Tarrant began, "I made the dress specifically for you, after all, it's your wedding dress, for the wedding we are having together, you and I, so of course you'd want to try it on, and perhaps you should try it on, yes, I'm sure there shall be alterations that need to be-"

Alice's fingers rose to touch gently against Tarrant's lips, and he instantly ceased his aimless jabbering. "I'll call you in when I'm ready," she said, soft fingers still pressed lightly over his mouth. Tarrant only trusted himself to nod, so he did before leaving Alice to get changed, prepared to guard the workshop door with his very life. Fortunately for both Tarrant and any innocent passerbys in the White Queen's halls, it wasn't long before Tarrant was called back into the workshop.

The sight of Alice standing in the room wearing her wedding dress - the dress Tarrant had tailored for her, with his own hands - was enough to send Tarrant's mind spinning in all directions. Even though he'd designed every inch of the dress with Alice in mind, he'd never expected it to look so perfect on her. She was a vision, a fair-haired deity. The dress's bodice hugged her bust and waist impeccably, framing her pale neck and shoulders in such a way that Tarrant worried perhaps she looked too lovely, his mind imagining all manner of unscrupulous gazes upon her on their wedding day.

Their wedding day. His and Alice's, Alice's and his, the day they are to be married as husband and wife-

"Tarrant," Alice's voice came gently, and Tarrant realized with a suddenness that he hadn't spoken a word since reentering the room, which now seemed impossibly rude. Alice was grinning, however, a hand over the front of the dress to help hold it up properly. "You can tell me what you're thinking later. For now, I need your help buttoning it up," she said, turning to reveal her bare back and a line of buttons in desperate need of buttoning. Something thick lodged itself in Tarrant's throat at the sight, his eyes gliding perversely along the nape of her neck and down her spine, and lower, lower until-

"I'm not certain I should," Tarrant squeaked out.

"I can't be expected to do it myself," Alice pointed out patiently. "You designed the dress this way, didn't you?"

"I… suppose I did." Tarrant admitted. And so Tarrant approached her - careful, careful - his slightly shaking hands reaching out to grasp the first button, gently latching it.

"Tell me what you were thinking," Alice said, sweeping her hair aside and over her shoulder to allow Tarrant to continue. "I won't be offended."

Tarrant swallowed, working on the second button, then the third, a shiver flying down his spine when the tips of his fingers accidentally grazed against Alice's bare skin. "I was thinking how beautiful you are," Tarrant admitted, feeling encouraged by Alice's calm curiosity. She'd already assuaged his fear about his own wicked thoughts, hadn't she? "You looked so radiant I forgot every word I'd ever learned in every language."

"And what else?" Alice continued, a smile in her voice. Tarrant buttoned the last button, though his fingers hesitated to leave the warmth of her back.

"I was thinking that you'll soon be my wife," Tarrant murmured. He allowed his knuckles to trail up along the buttons and beyond, tracing feather-light over her soft, inviting skin. Alice breathed out lightly, her shoulders rolling back to lean into the touch.

"And you'll soon be my husband." Alice turned, looking up at Tarrant with those dark eyes again, pink lips slightly parted and expectant, and it took everything in Tarrant to not take her in his arms and kiss her breathless. "So I would say there's no need for the two of us to be so cautious around one another, yes?"

"Oh, Alice." Tarrant's mouth twitched into a smile. He let his wicked thoughts free from their cages, allowing his eyes to shamelessly rake Alice's body, his hands seeking her waist to pull her closer. "A dinnae think ye know whit ye're askin."

"I think I do," Alice challenged him, closing the gap between their bodies to such a point that she was pressed into him now, her face only inches away from his own. Her warmth was intoxicating. "I'm patient enough to save certain activities for our wedding night, of course, but we ought to be allowed small advantages in the meantime."

Even the mention of their wedding night sent Tarrant's mind into a dark spiral. His hands were moving on their own accord, running up and down Alice's back, rejoicing in the subtle tremors he could feel running through Alice's body at the ministrations. "A canae argue wi thon, lass," Tarrant growled, and promptly sealed Alice's lips with his own, kissing her hard and with purpose. He swallowed the sweet moan that followed, his fingertips pressing possessively against her.

The two of them stumbled backwards, their kisses becoming hurried and frantic. Alice's back hit the edge of Tarrant's work table and her hands instantly found its surface, working to hoist herself up onto it; Tarrant eagerly assisted her, their mouths never breaking contact as he grabbed the train of her dress and shoved it aside. Alice quickly lifted herself onto the table, knocking several tools and spools of fabric aside in her haste, and Tarrant once again wrestled with Alice's dress - the dress he made! Why ever did he make it so elaborate, so hard to get around! - to allow himself between her knees, which Alice permitted in earnest, closing her legs firmly around his waist.

Whether or not they were behaving appropriately was a worry far-flung from Tarrant's mind. He wanted her, he'd wanted her for so long… He was still unbelieving that he could have her, that Alice was his, his to touch and to kiss and to- not yet, not yet, he had to restrain himself for a while longer, though he felt his composure slipping more and more as the days went on. He could tell Alice felt the same. Such trying times for the both of them!

The heat between them was scorching. Alice tasted like tea, like a fresh spring breeze, like Alice, and Tarrant felt strongly he could go on kissing her for hours if it was allowed. And Alice might have allowed it, she really might have, but Tarrant's blood was boiling in his veins and he knew if they carried on much longer, they would have so much less to look forward to on their wedding night.

They pulled apart, panting against each other's mouths, coming together again to rest their foreheads against one another. Alice whispered something between breaths so quiet Tarrant could barely hear.

"What's that, my dear?" he huffed, his hands still secured firmly around her waist.

"Nine days and seven hours," Alice repeated, her hands cradling Tarrant's jaw. "Nine days and seven hours until we're married."

Tarrant chuckled, his lips finding the curve of Alice's neck to lay lazy kisses there. "I waited more than ten years for you to return to Underland and three years more to see you again, yet somehow nine days sounds an absurd amount of time. I fear I'll expire before then."

Alice tilted her head to allow him better access to her neck, letting out a soft gasp. "I've left you waiting for an awfully long time, haven't I?" she said, a thread of regret in her voice. Tarrant gently sucked at the base of Alice's neck, drawing a heady moan from her.

"Ye're worth waitin for." he growled into her skin. Alice gripped Tarrant's shoulders. Her thighs trembled.

"I should have stayed when you asked me to," she continued on, so much regret weighing down her words that Tarrant pulled away from her neck to meet her eyes. She offered him an apologetic smile, her lips still slightly parted and flushed pink from their kiss. "So much wasted time. If only I'd stayed."

Tarrant held Alice's face in his hands, shaking his head. "No no no, that's not right at all. It was terribly selfish of me to ask you to stay so suddenly. You had to leave, dear Alice, so that you could come back to me again. You would be so much less muchier if you hadn't."

"You seem so certain of that," Alice chuckled.

Tarrant leveled her an owl-eyed grin. "The only thing I've ever been certain about is you, my dear." He pressed another kiss to her lips, less urgent than before. She sighed into it, as though a weight had been lifted, wrapping her arms around his neck to keep him close.

When they separated for the second time, they'd both come down enough to realize that they should find another activity to entertain themselves with, any other activity really, since they'd already proven their self control to be rather poor.

Tarrant brushed some of Alice's yellow hair away from her face and over her shoulder, caressing her cheek. "If it makes you feel any better, Alice… Now that I have you, I promise to never let you go," he said. Alice beamed at him.

"I'll hold you to that, then."

Notes:

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

We're almost done, just the epilogue left!

Chapter 10: An Underland Wedding

As far as weddings were concerned, Underland weddings were truly curious. And rare, as Alice would come to find.

As the Queen had explained it to her, people in Underland did not marry for status or money. They married only for love - which Alice thought ought to be the standard anyway - but apparently romantic love was rather uncommon in Underland. The animal folk, as the Queen described, were not usually interested in such relationships; the people of Underland were more inclined, but still seemed less interested in romance than what might be considered normal in Upland. This explained many things that Alice had wondered about for some time, like the lack of children in Underland, as well as the lack of, well, married couples.

Love was a rare and beautiful thing in Underland. This meant, however, that weddings were almost always tremendous events, with hundreds clamoring to be in attendance. Fortunately for Alice, she had the direct support of the White Queen and was able to secure a small wedding, with only friends and acquaintances - old and new - invited to attend. The Hatter didn't mind either way; so long as they were to be married, he said, it didn't matter to him whether three people attended or three-hundred.

They had a seaside wedding. Alice had always been captivated by the sea, so it seemed the perfect place.

Like many things in Underland, there was no defined structure for how a wedding ought to go. There was no minister, of course. An old boy usually officiated these ceremonies; any old boy would do, Alice was to find, so long as the person or creature in question was old enough to be considered an old boy, had attended a respectable university, and had lots of long-winded anecdotal tales about their time there. One of Alice's childhood acquaintances, the Mock Turtle, originally volunteered for the position but Alice worried the poor thing would sob through the speeches, and the job was passed along to his dear - and much less emotional - friend, the Gryphon.

The speeches came first, though to be 'married' in the official sense of the word, both Alice and the Hatter were required to produce 'proof' of their love for one another. At first, Alice wondered how in the world one was to bring proof of something so intangible, but the Queen had mercifully informed her that the required proof could be anything at all and no one would question it. Still, Alice found herself determined to take the requirement seriously.

She brought along the letter the Hatter had left for her when he'd run off into the night in an attempt to save her from The Vanishment all those weeks ago, and the guests oooh-ed and awe-d as soon as she'd revealed the parchment without knowing what it said, proving the Queen's advice quite correct. When the Hatter was asked to produce his proof, he took a much more direct approach; he swept Alice close to him and kissed her to the whoops and applause of their friends. Alice rather preferred his proof over her own.

After the Gryphon said his part - though mostly he talked about certain professors from his university whom he remembered fondly - he announced them husband and wife, to the delight of their guests.

What followed was a celebration the likes of which Alice had never seen. All the propriety Alice had grown to expect at parties was flung away in favor of uproarious cheering, dancing and feasting.

Alice had been eyeing the cake for some time now with caution, wondering what it might be made of if not mincemeat, and if it was mincemeat, she wondered if it was horribly wrong to eat it considering how many animal friends she now had.

"If I may ask," Alice said to Thackery, who was wearing his finest jacket for the occasion, "what exactly is the cake made of?"

Thackery followed her eyes, his entire body quaking in excitement. "Whit ivery weddin cake is made o," he said matter-of-factly, "rice milk an treacle, mostly!"

Not even Alice's fondness for thinking up impossible things could convince her to imagine those flavors together, so she did not try. Thankfully there were a great many treats laid out for the guests, so Alice had much to choose from if she found herself peckish.

Fortunately, Alice was much too distracted with the dancing and festivities to worry about food. The Hatter out-danced them all, of course; The Futterwacken on more than one occasion, as well as several dances Alice had never seen before, though she learned a few of them rather quickly. There was at least one dance she somewhat remembered - the Lobster Quadrille - and since they were so near to the sea, a group of eager lobsters came to shore to assist. The Mock Turtle and the Gryphon led the first figure, explaining as they went to those who had never seen the dance before.

"So that's how it's meant to look!" Alice declared, having wondered for some time how the dance might look with actual lobsters. The Tweedles were surprisingly coordinated with their own lobsters, throwing them to and fro as though they'd performed the dance many times before, and though Chessur was rather good at it as well, he kept accidentally evaporating his lobsters. Bayad and his family were not quite built for dancing a quadrille, and so they romped around the others, barking and wagging their tails in excitement. It was quite a fascinating sight to behold, and Alice loved it all tremendously.

At the end of it all, they were all quite short-winded and giddy from the food and drinks and dancing. Alice and the Hatter - her husband, it was official now - sat side-by-side at the edge of the water, watching the horizon as their friends recovered up on the shore.

"Do you feel any different?" the Hatter asked her curiously. Alice lay her head on his shoulder.

"Not really," she observed. "Do you?"

The Hatter was silent for a moment, considering. "I'm not sure," he finally said, "though I rather think I'm happier than I've ever been." He glanced down at the top of Alice's head, pressing his mouth sweetly against her crown. "Are you happy, Alice?"

Alice grinned. "Deliriously," she answered him. "How could I not be, now that I'm your wife?"

"Wife," the Hatter repeated softly. "Why, it nearly feels like a dream, doesn't it?"

Alice lifted her head, meeting the Hatter's gaze. His eyes were soft, reverent, and drifted over her face to fall on her lips. She smiled at him. "We are both very much awake, I promise." she said, kissing him slowly, softly. The Hatter's hand rose to hold her chin, kissing her back so tenderly Alice nearly wanted to suggest they rush home immediately so they might get to more important matters.

In front of them, a smiling form materialized in the air, a striped tail swinging under his floating body. "I hate to interrupt the happy couple," Chussur purred, and both Alice and the Hatter broke apart, heads snapping in the cat's direction, "but before you both retire to enjoy your wedding night, I would like to bestow a gift to the bride."

"A gift for me?" Alice asked, worried that perhaps the cat had mind-reading abilities she was unaware of. Chessur's grin grew wider. He nodded.

"It's tradition," he said, and the Hatter hummed an affirmative.

"Oh, I'd forgotten!" the Hatter said with a giddy laugh. "Chessur, you've decided to be our Patron?"

"Patron?" Alice asked again, her confusion growing by the minute. "What is that?"

Chessur leisurely stretched, flipping himself upside down. "Traditionally, a Patron is a friend of the bride and groom who elects themselves to gift something imbued with magic to the bride," he explained casually. "It's said to be good luck. And of all our friends, I would think I'm the ideal choice for such an honor, wouldn't you say?"

"That's very generous of you, Chess," Alice said. She thought to ask why the bride received a gift and not the groom, but it seemed rude to ask something like that just before she was about to receive said gift. Perhaps she'd ask her husband later. Ah, husband.

"Not at all, love," Chessur purred, waving his tail through the air to reveal what looked to be a brown handbag, though Alice had never seen a handbag quite like it. He handed it to Alice and she looked it over, noticing intricate stitched patterns in the thick material, and when she looked closely she could see what appeared to be exotic-colored feathers running through the hem at the top and bottom. She ran her hand over the front of the bag; a strange warmth pulsed under her fingers, as though the material was thrumming with life.

"It's beautiful," Alice murmured. "Thank you, Chessur."

Chessur floated in closer, his large eyes dilating happily. "It's not only beautiful, but it's rather useful, too," he purred, sounding extremely pleased with his own work. Which he ought to be, Alice thought, since it really was a lovely bag. "It's made with feathers of the Jub-Jub bird, which gives it it's magical properties. You can put whatever you like into this bag, and there will always be room for more."

"How amazing!" Alice exclaimed. She opened the bag and slid her arm inside, delighted to find that although she'd fit her whole arm inside up to her shoulder, the outside of the bag had remained unchanged. She reached around inside, finding only open air; she couldn't find the bottom of the bag at all. "I'm certain I can think of endless uses for such an incredible bag."

"I was hoping you would," Chessur grinned, satisfied. He crossed his paws under his chin, his tail slowly beginning to fade into the backdrop. "I shall take my leave. As for the two of you, if you're eager for some alone time, I'd suggest you do the same. Once everyone gets their second wind, I imagine you'll get pulled into another dance." The rest of Chessur's body faded into a shimmering mist, only his smile remaining. "Though, if you leave now, I doubt your guests will take notice."

Alice and the Hatter turned to each other. There was very little deliberation to be found in their silent exchange before the Hatter took Alice's hand in his own and the two of them took off running along the shore, laughing and stumbling as they went.

A perfect end to a perfect wedding, Alice thought. Though the White Queen had done well to impress upon her how rare love was in Underland, Alice imagined it was just as rare anywhere else. She was lucky to have found it. Now that she had it, she had no intention of letting it go.

Notes:

The epilogue ended up being way longer than I originally planned, so I split it into two chapters. Bonus epilogue chapter incoming!

*For those who haven't read the original book: The Mock Turtle and The Gryphon are from chapters 9 & 10, which is also where they explain the Lobster Quadrille to Alice.
*Mincemeat cakes/pies were the standard for Victorian weddings, hence why Alice assumed the cake would be made of mincemeat. It's also worth noting that weddings were not usually lavish events, nor were they the celebrations they are today; they tended to be pretty short and sweet and to the point. (It WAS basically just a business transaction, after all!)

Chapter 11: Hightopp & Kingsleigh

There were three Tarrants that lived inside of the Hatter, as far as Alice could tell.

There was the sweet, giddy, lisping Tarrant who always made sure Alice had her afternoon tea and peppered their morning chats with jokes and riddles. There was the more sincere Tarrant who loved kissing Alice awake each morning while mumbling sweet words against her skin. And there was the passionate, possessive, growling Tarrant who so effortlessly stole Alice's breath from her lungs and set her skin aflame with every touch.

All of them were her Hatter, her utterly mad husband, and Alice wouldn't have him any other way.

Currently, Alice hadn't seen her Hatter in nearly five days. Although five days wasn't a particularly lengthy span of time, it was the longest Alice had gone without seeing her husband since she'd returned to live in Underland, and it had been far more difficult than Alice worried it might be. Despite how busy she'd been in the Outlands, the Hatter had been in her thoughts constantly. To say she was excited to see him was an understatement.

Alice led the White Knights back into Marmoreal at half past noon. Very little fanfare greeted them, which suited Alice just fine; they'd returned a day early, after all, and their expedition had been far from perilous. Although Alice knew it would have been much more appropriate to report the results of the expedition to the Queen directly, she'd passed that task onto her first officer. She hoped the Queen would understand that she had somewhere much more important she needed to be. Alice gave Banders a goodbye chin-scratch and hurried off into town.

Hightopp & Kingsleigh was a quaint little building with a deep blue roof that fit snugly near the center of town. The front windows were always dressed with the newest hats and accessories, and beside the door was a small, important-looking plaque that read Milliner to The White Queen, a plaque that Alice was terribly proud of.

She'd objected to the naming of the shop originally - it certainly didn't help that the Hatter had tried to put her name first and his own second, which was just silly considering Alice had never properly learned to sew two pieces of fabric together let alone create a suitable piece of clothing - but eventually conceded when the Hatter insisted that without her, he would never have wanted to open a shop in the first place. And so her name sat beside his, even though she had never picked up a needle or cut a piece of cloth. It was still silly, she thought, but it was also wonderful.

The shop door opened with the gentle tinkle of bells. Alice slipped inside, relieved to find no customers roaming about; she flipped the 'open' sign to 'closed' and latched the door. Just a precaution, really. She set her sword and her magic bag by the door, grateful as ever that it wasn't as heavy as the many items she had packed inside it. She'd promised Chessur she would find endless uses for his gift, but really it's primary use had been to assist her on expeditions and trips across Underland. Since the amount of oddities and treasures she was able to pack into it were endless, however, she still felt she'd made good on that promise.

"I'll be with you in just a moment!" the Hatter called from his workshop in the next room. Alice smiled to herself, wondering how best to surprise him. She decided to stay just where she was, wandering around to admire the many hats her husband had put on display. Although the Hatter always kept things tidy, one couldn't deny the haphazard nature of the interior, though that only added to the charm. The shop's layout was exactly like the Hatter's mind, she thought; splintered and catawampus and mad, but at the same time warm and comfortable and proof of his incredible talent.

The workshop door swung open, and Alice watched her husband enter the shop, wiping his hands off on a dye-stained cloth. "Yes yes, how may I help-"

The Hatter's words died on his tongue. His eyes blew open and his face lit up in such a way that one might have assumed he hadn't seen Alice in years.

"Alice?" he asked first, as though perhaps he worried he was imagining things.

Alice smiled. If she'd thought for a moment she knew what it felt like to miss her Hatter before now, she would be wrong. Seeing him standing in front of her was overwhelming in the best way, and it took everything in her not to tackle him to the floor. "I hope you've missed me as much as I've missed you," she said.

"Alice…!"

The Hatter crossed the room and pulled Alice into a crushing hug, peppering her cheeks with kisses. Alice laughed, slinging her arms around his neck.

"I missed you terribly!" the Hatter said, picking her up by the waist to spin her around. How he achieved this in such a tight space without knocking over a single hat display was anyone's guess. "Never leave me for that long ever again, Alice! It was so dreadful without you, you know, so very dreadful!" Their spinning came to a stop and the Hatter locked his arms around her waist and tucked his face in the bend of her neck, breathing her in. Alice's feet dangled above the floor, her nose buried in his wild hair; Alice decided then and there that she didn't want to let him go for a very, very long while.

"I promise I won't," Alice mumbled happily. "If we ever plan an expedition that long again, should you like to come with us?"

"I think I would," the Hatter answered softly. He gave her a gentle squeeze before setting her down, though Alice didn't release her hold around his neck. "This is all very rude of me, however… I should be asking you how your expedition went, shouldn't I? How did you fare in the Outlands?"

Alice heaved a deep, content sigh, nuzzling her face into the Hatter's chest. "It was incredible. It was harsher than I expected, but I couldn't believe how many people are living out there! I saw and talked to so many amazing people and creatures, and the mushrooms out there are unbelievably large. I brought back plenty of ingredients for the Queen, she should be pleased."

"Did you sketch much?" the Hatter asked curiously, pressing a kiss to the top of Alice's head. "I do so adore your drawings."

Alice grinned. "I did, quite a bit actually. I'll show you later." A long moment passed in comfortable silence, the two of them satisfied with simply holding one another close. It felt so nice to just exist here, tucked inside the Hatter's arms, hearing the gentle thump of his heart against her ear. After a while, Alice questioned: "Did you really miss me so terribly?"

"All I know, my dear, is that I've grown too accustomed to your presence to see you gone for so long. Not having you near me was frightfully disagreeable."

They finally pulled apart just enough to see one another; the Hatter held her face in his hands as though he were still convincing himself that she was there with him. Alice smiled. "I know what you mean. I found myself nearly unable to sleep without you beside me, isn't that strange? I've been content to sleep alone my entire life - I greatly preferred it that way, in fact - but now sleeping alone is terribly uncomfortable."

The Hatter beamed at her. "I had a similar problem. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't very much looking forward to having you in our bed again, both for sleeping, and for… ah…"

Alice traced her fingertips over the Hatter's jaw. "Other things," she finished for him with a sly smile. "Husband and wife things. Though," she glanced behind them at the workshop door, "husband and wife things don't always happen in the bedroom, dear Tarrant."

The Hatter's eyes darkened a shade and his expression became sharp and intense. The sight of it sent a chill flying up Alice's spine and made her knees weak. "Aye," the Hatter growled, scooping Alice up into his arms bridal-style and marching them toward the workshop door. "Time tae show ye juist hou much A'v been missin ye, lass."

.

.

.

In Eastern Snud, just on the outskirts of the Tulgey Woods, there was a cottage. It was small, but it had all the things that matter, and perhaps a few more. On the inside, there were five rooms; a bedroom, a kitchen, a parlor - and how wonderful to not have gendered seating, to not be expected to behave a certain way in one's own parlor! - a small home workshop, and a sitting room where Alice and the Hatter kept their modest collection of books.

Outside, there was a beautiful garden filled with all manner of flowers, herbs and vegetables. Alice hadn't a talent for making plants grow, but McTwisp had been more than happy to help with the planting and initial care; the rest had somewhat taken care of itself, though McTwisp could hardly hold himself back from digging around whenever he came by for afternoon tea or lunch. Alice didn't discourage it, of course. The garden always seemed a little disappointed whenever she walked into it with gardening gloves and a spade, but whenever McTwisp visited, Alice could practically hear the collective sigh of relief.

Despite the garden's general dislike of her, it remained a beautiful thing to look at, and Alice and the Hatter often took their tea there when the weather was agreeable.

It was a lovely cottage, it really was, and so much of Alice's heart lived inside it.

It was on one such day that Alice was filling a basket with an assortment of tea sandwiches, and an odd feeling struck her. It was something like nostalgia, but so much stronger. She glanced out the kitchen window, taking note of the striking blues and violets of the afternoon sky.

A pair of arms wrapped around her waist from behind and a soft kiss pressed into her neck.

"Is something the matter, my dear?" the Hatter murmured against her skin. Alice smiled, leaning back against her husband.

"Not a thing. I was just thinking about other picnics we've had, you and I."

"Oh?" The Hatter giggled softly. "Any one in particular?"

Alice turned herself around in his arms, offering him a smile. "A picnic on a beautiful day that ended in an unlucky way, but ended up being the luckiest by far."

The Hatter grinned, his electric eyes lighting up from the memory. "Oh yes! I hadn't thought of it that way."

Alice reached up to adjust the Hatter's hat on his head, and pressed a kiss to his lips. "You told me that picnicking on beautiful days was good luck. And to think I didn't believe you!"

The Hatter glanced outside, those beautiful blues and purples reflected in his eyes. "It's quite a beautiful day for a picnic, as well." He looked back at Alice, eyes narrowed in concern. "Can one accumulate too much luck? Shall we start to see diminishing returns?"

"We're meeting our friends, so surely the luck will be split evenly between us all," Alice pointed out.

"Oh. That's true."

"Perhaps we should even ask one of them if they would like our share of the luck today," Alice continued thoughtfully. "Thackery could surely use a bit extra."

The Hatter grinned. "What an idea!"

"Speaking of," Alice said, placing her hands on the Hatter's chest, "if we don't leave now, we'll surely be late meeting everyone."

"Quite right, my dear," the Hatter purred, leaning in to steal one last kiss before they were to set out. "Shall we then?"

As Alice and the Hatter closed the front door of their cottage and started off toward Trotter's Bottom to meet their friends, Alice remembered when she'd tumbled down that rabbit hole years ago. She remembered the woman she was then, a woman who wanted so much more from life than she was allowed, than what was expected of her. Of all the impossible things she'd always imagined, she never dreamed there existed a place where she could live and love freely. Where she could be herself without apology.

Then again, Alice's life had always been brimming with the impossible.

Notes:

And it's over! Thank you so much for reading!

I haven't been able to write anything substantial for about two years now, so this fic was sort of a happy accident. It's not nearly as polished or thought-out as my usual works, but honestly I was just so happy to ride that wave of inspiration I tried not to overthink anything. That probably means it's a bit rough around the edges, but I hope it was still enjoyable! Leave a comment if you enjoyed, I'm pleased as punch that there are still Hattice shippers out there and I'd love to hear from you!