Facets of Madness, Peace Part Two Section One
Peace: Part Two
She loved him.
She wanted to be with him.
She’d chosen him, the Mad Hatter, the man with mixed emotions, to fix her.
No matter how many different ways he said it he couldn’t grow tired of the notion. In fact, the Hatter thought, I doubt I’ll ever be tired of anything again. Not the total dark of night they were now shrouded in, not the fact there was so much more planning and hard work to come; he even found himself to be excited about throwing phrases and scones at the twitchy March Hare again. Nothing could ever be boring or irritating or distracting, not when he had Alice Kingsleigh resting in his lap and telling him she loved him. Of course, he knew that this was the easiest part. Soon would come the time when Alice would have to face her new reality - The Bad Thing about Her Husband, The Even Worse Thing That Caused It, and The Thing about Her Family Living in another World. He’d half expected her to have lost the plot by now, overwhelmed by all those Terrible Things. And in a small way she had, reverting to a somewhat child-like state after admitting her feelings. They’d been entwined together for some time now, but he wasn’t keeping track. He was revelling in the feel of her slight weight across his legs, in the way her hair tickled the pulse point of his neck as she rested her head on his chest. She really did give the impression of a delicate little thing, though he knew this to be the result of her tiresome inner struggles. The Champion Alice was lurking somewhere inside her just waiting to be found again. It was a bitter victory, he conceded. He’d won her heart but broken it a little in the process. He vowed to spend the rest of forever mending it for her.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her hair for the hundredth time, wondering idly if bobby pins and thread would hold a heart together.
And for the hundredth time, she replied: “I know.”
She knew he was sorry for confronting her about the Bad Thing, but thinking about this made her stomach ache and her thoughts run wild with unease: in short, it made her feel like someone a little less than Alice, and she couldn’t bear that. Not when it was Alice the Hatter adored, Alice who had so many kind friends. Who would ever want this diminished, mad girl she’d suddenly become? She’d spoken all this aloud, tired of thinking thoughts, tired of her mind, and the Hatter collected her hand in his tenderly before replying:
“But you haven’t suddenly become anyone. You’ve been mad for a long time, just haven’t known it.”
“You knew it.”
“Not always. And now that I know…well, I’m still here, aren’t I?”
“Yes, you are.” She breathed in the silky smell of his jacket, soaked up the heat of his hand in hers. Henry never felt this real. Henry. Her stomach did a somersault.
“And your family loved you enough to try and protect you from yourself.”
“Yes, they did.”
Talking about her family also gave her the Less Than Alice feelings, so she chose not to think about them just yet.
“Why would you love me if you knew I’d gone round the bend?” she murmured.
“I could ask the same of you.”
She grinned into his lapel, but the guilt that followed immediately was almost too much to bear.
“Was that a smile, Alice? A real smile?”
“No,” she replied.
“I think it was.”
“I ought to know if it was or wasn’t a smile.”
“You’re allowed be happy, Alice. Even just a little bit.”
But it was hard to explain to him, the guilt she felt. There was still too much to worry about, come to terms with. Why should she feel even remotely happy when somewhere her sister was worrying about her, somewhere the White Queen pitied her…somewhere she was a girl who’d been broken?
“I can’t,” she replied in a hoarse voice, “It isn’t right.”
“Because you’ve caused so much trouble for others that you don’t deserve a little peace,” he said.
“That’s not - I -”
“That’s what it feels like, doesn’t it? Alice, I thought for a long time that I didn’t deserve anybody, any help, anything -”
“All things beginning with any?”
“Exactly. But you know why you troubled them, don’t you?”
“Because…because they care about me.”
“And they still do.”
He shifted slightly and she lifted her gaze up to his. “Alice, nobody in Underland knows about this except Mirana and I. Nobody pities you or feels any different about you. We all still want you to stay with us, and be whoever you want to be.”
Lowering her head onto his chest again, she sighed heavily. “All I want is to be Alice.”
“That’s an excellent choice, if I may say so.”
“But Alice has a family…” she murmured, experiencing sharp Less Than Alice feelings again. This time unable to ignore them, she steeled herself and boldly asked: “Can - can I go back to England?”
There was a silence so thick he could hear his very blood freeze at the words. It was hard to force out a voice through his tight jaw, but he managed somehow.
“Oh - but - what?”
It wasn’t as fun to see him flounder as she’d thought it would be. She took pity on him. “Not to stay,” she assured him, “Just to tell my mother.”
His brain was still functioning a few seconds behind his mouth. “Oh…oh!”
At last his panicked voice began to form actual sentences again. “Yes of course!” he answered, “Absolutely! But Alice, this time…could I…” he sheepishly looked at her from under the brim of his hat.
Alice smiled again, tipping his hat up so she could see his face clearly. He looked like a wary child.
“What is it?” she asked, placing her palm against his cheek.
The fluid motion gave him a sudden courage. “MayIaccompanyyou?” he asked in a single breath.
“You’ll have to use spaces, Hatter, I can’t understand you.”
“May I accompany you?” he said more clearly, “It’s just that I’m growing tired of waiting for you for days when you only spend a few hours from me. It’s almost like you’re cheating.”
He smiled hopefully and she waited for the twist of unease in her stomach to settle down. Taking him to England couldn’t be too terrible, could it? He wouldn’t quite stick out like a sore thumb…oh, bother. What did it matter if he did? He couldn’t be any stranger than she imagined she must have been, wandering the halls of Kingsleigh House chattering to a man nobody could see. There would no doubt be rumours following her disappearance after her visit anyway, so at least she’d give them something to talk about. And now that she remembered...what had happened...the Hatter was the only person she truly wanted to be with, wanted to attach herself to, wanted to crawl deep inside his heart and fall asleep and never wake up -
It was just much easier to worry about taking him along than it was to think of anything else.
“Cheating?” she repeated, pretending to be affronted. “I’d hate you to think so little of me. Well, we can’t have that, can we?”
“No, we absolutely cannot.” The Hatter watched the way she forced out a cheerful smile. She was all right now, at This Very Moment, but he knew that sooner or later there would be hell to pay for the things his Alice had learned.
***
“Hatter, you’re staring at me.”
“Am I?”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t realise; I apologise.”
“It’s all right. Hatter, you’re doing it again!”
“Am I?”
“Yes!”
“I’m sorry!”
“I don’t think you are!”
“I assure you I am at least…somewhat regretful about it.”
The Hatter simply tipped his hat up and let Alice roll her eyes - well, that is to say, he didn’t comment on it. He couldn’t physically stop her from rolling them - but they did turn a strangely pleasing coffee colour when they turned upwards…he shook his head. Yes, his mind was wandering quite easily at the moment, which was why he kept staring at her. But he was nervous! He was about to enter the Otherworld to meet with Alice’s foreboding mother for an unfortunate second time, and Alice wasn’t acting like herself! With her fast-changing moods and inability to choose between talking to him or empty air, she was acting more like a mad hatter than anyone else. Appreciating just how much work it must have been for her to care for him in the past few months, he resignedly took her hand and vowed to do his best.
His worries escalated when they reached the willow tree that served as a doorway and she no longer seemed like too much of anyone. Her shoulders trembled at odd intervals, calm one instant and frenzied the next. Her teeth chattered as she spoke once and the next her voice was perfectly mellow.
“Alice? Are you certain you want to do this now?” he asked her worriedly.
“I’m certain I don’t want to do this later,” she replied, teeth chattering again as if she were freezing.
“Come here,” he commanded softly, and he swept off his jacket and hung it around her shoulders. Alice was splintering. Soon, there would be no more fragments of her left. He knew this because he’d experienced it firsthand four years ago. But with the scent of him draped around her she seemed to settle, taking a brave breath and laying a hand on the bark of the tree.
“If I don’t go now, I might never,” she whispered, and waited for the tree trunk to fold into itself. The dark hole appeared, and she met eyes with the Hatter once for reassurance before stepping through. He dipped his hat to a better angle and waited until he saw her back disappear before following suit. He almost bumped into her when clambering out, for she was standing so close to the doorway. They continued to stand just inches apart for several long moments.
“There’s plenty of space out here, Alice, you don’t need to occupy just this little part.”
“I do if you’re also occupying it.”
The walk to Kingsleigh House was a silent one after that.
A silent and rather long walk, in which Alice took his hand and tugged him along like a child, her eyes fixed on the mansion in the distance. They exchanged glances, but not much in the way of words, and so the Hatter was left to only guess at what the actual meaning behind the looks might have been. While he pondered on what the last look she’d given him could mean he anxiously arranged the angle of his hat again, and she at last stopped dragging him along to speak with him.
“Your hat looks fine as it is, there’s no need to change it for the plimpteenth time,” she scolded him.
“Plimpteenth, Alice?”
“Yes, you’ve done it so many times now that umpteenth hardly sounds accurate. I’ve had to conjure up a new word for just how many times you’ve rearranged your hat.”
He flashed a genuine smile, both sheepish and proud. She couldn’t be splintering too badly if she could find the time to make up ridiculous words. “Plimpteenth…” he repeated, “You know, I think I like it.”
“You can have it if you want,” she said with a sort of half-smile, bouncing ahead of him now and quite forgetting where they were headed.
“Surely we could share it, at least,” said the Hatter, relishing the hearty conversation of nonsense that they hadn’t had in a while. He was barely aware that they’d now reached Kingsleigh House, happy as he was to see her taking the front steps backwards as she spoke.
“By all means take it,” she answered, “There’s plenty more where that came - oomph!”
Alice collided with someone solid at the top of the stairs. A hand came around her waist just in time to stop her falling off the top step.
“Miss Kingsleigh, you must be careful,” said a man’s voice, a servant called Wheatley. When Alice realised it wasn’t the Hatter’s arm around her she tensed up and made to shove the man away, but he quickly let go once he’d steadied her. She nodded mutely, vaguely aware of a hot flush in her cheeks as she stole back to the Hatter’s waiting side where it was safe. There were several following seconds of awkward silence, in which Wheatley took in the sudden appearance of his dishevelled young mistress and her bizarre-looking friend, hoping for them to excuse him.
“Wheatley, could you please tell us where my mother and sister are?” Alice asked when she had found her voice.
“I believe that both Mrs Kingsleigh and Mrs Manchester are still in the conservatory.”
“Still?”
“Yes, they’ve been conversing all afternoon…” Wheatley faltered, feigning an uncomfortable cough. “They seem quite concerned about something.”
“Something or someone?” Alice enquired.
Again, Wheatley coughed. He was looking quite faint, and kept glancing fearfully at the Hatter. “I don’t - I’m not sure, Miss -”
“It’s quite all right, I know the answer,” she interrupted, looking to the Hatter with a tight expression and huddling closer to him. “Come on, the conservatory’s this way,” she said to him, and started off around the side of the building.
“You may want to do something for that cough,” said the Hatter to poor Wheatley, who watched them go looking more flabbergasted than ever.