Title: Made it Home
Author:
silverlunarstarCharacters/Pairings: Tarrant/Alice; Absolem; OC
Rating: G
Genre: Introspection/Friendship/Romance
Warnings/Spoilers: Post-movie.
Words: 1,826
Status: Completed
Disclaimer: I claim no ownership. "Painting Flowers" by All Time Low belongs to its respectful owners.
Summary: One-shot. Sequel to
Retrace the Steps. Alice has dreams that aren't dreams and dreams that are. As if everything else was real!
Author's Note: This is part two of my prezzie for my BFF Nia-chan (AKA
scutegirl). It took me a while, but here it is, as promised!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Alice had done the impossible: She had become one of London's most successful businesswomen and, in this time and place, it was a high achievement. Thanks to Lord Ascot, she had more than proven herself. Her trip to China had been a difficult experience, one that took over a year, but she overcame the obstacles thrown her way and took her father's business to great heights. When asked how she did it, she joked that if her lucky butterfly showed up she knew she'd be successful. When it didn't, she worked twice as hard. Of course, the sightings of this particular butterfly struck her as odd for she had never seen one of such blue before (that's how she knew it was the same one every time). The strangest thing, however, was that she'd seen it everywhere. Her first encounter being just as her journey began. When she saw it once they arrived in China, she just thought it'd gotten stuck aboard, but after a fifth sighting, she found it really odd, but tried to brush the incidence off. Still, she could not shake the feeling that he was quite familiar and, even more peculiar, that it was the same vibrant blue as the caterpillar she had removed from Hamish's shoulder when he'd been trying to propose.
As the months went by and Alice continued to decline suitor after suitor, she started hearing the words ‘spinster’ and ‘old maid’. This was around the same time she started hearing voices outside of her dreams.
She'd always had these dreams, but in them she'd always been a little girl. Now, she was a young woman and Wonderland had grown much drearier now that the Red Queen had managed to take the crown. At times she could swear they were real. Then, as if that wasn't strange enough, she had dreams that she just knew were dreams. As if everything else was real!
It made absolutely no sense! Now, she was all for believing in impossible things, but this was insane! Dreams that weren't dreams and dreams that were. She was surely going mad. The mornings weren't so much a problem after she vanished the lingering images, but sometimes (just sometimes, mind), she would look off into space, which wasn't completely peculiar as she'd always been accused of having her head up in the clouds, but now, instead of simply thinking up the impossible, a single image continued to make an appearance: That of a strange madman with bright red hair and the palest of skin.
It wasn't even so much the image of the man as…everything else! It's as if she'd known him her whole life, for she knew just about every aspect of him. She knew his tragedy, she knew his quirks, she knew the way his eyes changed color depending on his mood. The way his hands moved as he worked his trade… Had he been an imaginary friend of hers when she was younger? A character she made up once upon a time? It would seem so, but in the span of it, he'd gone from a madman who loved his tea to so much more. Who was he?
If she thought her dreams were driving her mad, surely she was going completely round the bend in real life. Every day it was the same old routine over and over again. She thought she'd be happy to be home, but she missed going out and about as she pleased, striking deals, joking with coworkers, having fun, and being respected all around.
When she first came back to London, all was well. People couldn't wait to hear about her adventures. Of course, when they realized the actual work she had to do, they soon distanced themselves and it was back to being the same old Alice to them, Strange Alice, Abnormal Alice. When she kept declining suitors, it was even worse. Funnily enough, that was fine with her. She never belonged here. Even before her dreams started as a child, she didn't quite fit in with the other children. The only ones who ever understood her were her father and sister. As her sister grew up, however, they're relationship wasn't the same. Margaret fit in. She didn't. Her father always encouraged her to dream big, but dreams were something people looked down their noses on.
She'd done her mother proud. She knew she had, but she also knew that, more than anything, her mother wanted her to find a proper gentleman and settle down. She doubted she ever could. Maybe the whisperings behind and around her were right: She would grow to be an old maid like her aunt. She was already half-way to madness after all!
Then, as if by some miracle, a gentleman from Scotland came to London. He looked quite similar to the man in her dreams except, of course, for the ever-changing eyes and pale white skin. He was rather pale, but not unhealthily so, and his eyes were bright blue, his hair a dark red.
Everyone was curious about this stranger and many young women vied for his attention. So it was to everyone's surprise when he started courting Alice Kingsley, especially Alice herself.
He seemed interesting and, looking at her mother's face fill with hope, she gave him the chance. She was shocked at how swept away she became.
They talked about everything and nothing. They talked about the economy, politics, adventures, literature, and even the impossible! Every day they were together, she'd tell him the six impossible things she had thought of before breakfast and he, in turn, made them even more impossible. He encouraged her imagination and even offered some of his own ideas for her father's business, telling her never to limit herself. It seemed as if everything the man was came straight from her dreams.
Except, he wasn't. She told herself over and over again that this was what she wanted. She wanted someone who could understand her, someone she could talk to about anything. However, there was one thing she hadn't told him. Her dreams of her redheaded madman.
She didn't know what to do. Every day she was remembering more and more. As her courtship with Lord Tavish Halifax continued, she started to slowly distance herself. She spoke less and less of her dreams and instead talked only of literature or the business.
Tavish noticed, of course, but said nothing. Then came a time when he asked her about the six impossible things she had thought of that day. She had none.
She didn't understand! This was everything she wanted, right? Even though she rarely vied for the attention of a man, the fact that there was one who actually understood her and cared for her was like something straight out of a dream.
That was the problem. She didn't want this reality. She wanted her dreams, she wanted Wonderland.
It was a glorious day and she was out with Tavish when she saw him again for the first time since she arrived in London: The blue butterfly. Absolem.
She finally remembered and a grin broke out as he landed on her nose. She felt Tavish startle, but she continued to look into his knowledgeable eyes. It all this time, no matter how many times she spotted him, he never once approached her so closely. Of course, she probably wouldn't have understood who he was before; not until a few weeks ago when she remembered her dreams, the dreams without just her and her madman, really weren't dreams.
Last night, she'd dreamt of her farewell with him.
“You could stay.”
She turned around, lowering the vial with the Jabberwocky’s blood. “What an idea. A crazy, mad, wonderful idea.” And it was; it was a wonderful idea, but… She hated to bring his hopes down as she saw his face lighten up. “But I can’t. There are questions I have to answer, things I have to do.” Before he could change her mind or, worse, before she could change it herself, she opened the vial and drank the blood in one go. “Be back again before you know it.” And she would. This time she wouldn’t stay away for so long. Not when he was here.
He shook his head, smiling sadly. “You won’t remember me.”
“Of course I will. How could I forget?” There was no way she’d ever forget him again.
But she had. She had forgotten all about Wonderland - Underland. She had forgotten him and that was the worst part. Although she always dreamed of him, she'd continued to believe it was all a dream, just like she had before slaying the Jabberwocky. She hadn't wanted to forget him and she'd been driving herself mad with her dreams that weren't dreams. Now, however, she remembered everything and there was no way she was going to lose her head again.
Alice turned to Tavish and was startled to see a look of understanding. He knew of her dreams, had told him of the blue caterpillar that had turned into a butterfly. He took her home, said his farewell, and she dashed upstairs, blue butterfly clinging to her head. Taking out letters she'd written out a fortnight ago, she laid them on her dresser, took out a small trunk with a few knickknacks and a large photo album, she then followed Absolem back out.
He led her back to the park where she'd been with Tavish and deeper into the thicket of trees. Even though it was still early, the woods continued to grow darker and darker. She shivered and it felt as if hours had gone by. However, suddenly, she was at the other side and she looked around, eyes wide. She'd thought Absolem was leading her down another rabbit hole. It looked like he had another way in and out. Grinning, she threw her arms out, twirling a few times and, when she stopped, Absolem was nowhere to be seen. Confused, she took in her surroundings once again and realized she was just outside of Marmoreal. Hurriedly, she made her way to the drawbridge.
Before she made it to the entrance, she heard someone shout, "Alice!"
She looked up and just barely made a face beaming down at her. Her grin widened, something she didn't think was possible and she shouted back, "Tarrant!" before dashing inside.
She'd just made it up the first flight of stairs when she crashed into a warm body and was enveloped in a hug. "Hatter," she murmured, after a few minutes.
"Yes?" he muttered into her hair.
"Why is a raven like a writing desk?"
Pulling back, he looked into her eyes with joyful green ones. "I haven't the slightest idea."
"Think we can figure it out together?"
"That sounds like a crazy, mad, wonderful idea my Alice."
"My Tarrant." Finally, she was where she wanted to be; where she was supposed to be.
She was home.