Chapter Text
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.
.
.
.
"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!"