Once and Always Champion (1/7), an Alice in Wonderland fic
Title: Once and Always Champion
Rating: K+/PG
Main Characters and/or pairings: Alice/ Tarrant
Genre: Adventure/ Romance, AU
Summary: When Alice returns to Underland through the Looking Glass, she realizes how tricky a fellow Time can be.
Author's Notes (if any): THANK YOU to creepylicious for the awesome artwork and soundtrack! A big huge thank you to my Scottish guru azure_horizon who answered countless questions with the utmost patience. Without her, Tarrant would be speaking like a surfer dude. Seriously. An enormous, extra huge thank you (and a future package of cinnamon rolls, LOL) goes to manniness who has been my cheerleader, beta, and English to Outlandish translator. Without her, the ending would have been rubbish. You, as always, rock! There are some Outlandish words created by the talented manniness that can be found here.
“I have something to show you.”
Alice looked up from her tea cup to Tarrant. A smile danced on her lips as she watched him stir in his seat, nearly unable to control his excitement. “What is it?” she asked.
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you.” At her frown, he quickly added, “At least, not yet.”
Alice was intrigued, which, she suspected, was the purpose of his announcement. “Well,” she said before taking a sip of her tea, “when can you tell me?”
His triumphant grin confirmed her thoughts. He was trying to stir up her curiosity!
“We have to go there first,” he replied, smiling.
Without wasting another moment, he led her outside of his workshop, through the courtyard and beyond the castle gates. He finally stopped several hundred yards from the front of the castle. “Yes, yes, here we are,” he said, seeming pleased with himself.
“It’s High Winter’s Night,” he stated.
Alice overheard the queen talking about it earlier that morning, but she was unaware of what significance it had in Underland. “What’s that?” she asked, looking around the empty field for any clues.
His eyes lit up as they often did when he explained an unfamiliar aspect about Underland to Alice. “It’s th' shortest day o’ th' year. Tae keep th' citizens o’ Underland from missin' th' sun tay much, th' constellations give us a gift every High Winter’s Nicht,” he explained, taking a seat on the ground.
Alice joined him, her hand brushing his. She was about to pull away when she felt his hand covering her own. She smiled at him before he started speaking.
“For years, I would come out on High Winter’s Night and watch them alone,” he confessed quietly.
“What about Mally and Thackery?” she asked.
“It would interfere with the preparations for the Tea of the High Winter’s Night,” he answered.
“It’s alrigh’,” he said when she flashed him a sympathetic smile. “I’m glad I’m able tae share this wi' ye now.” He reached in his jacket pocket and pulled out his long-broken pocket watch. “It’s gonnae start soon,” he declared after a quick glance at the time.
A blur of movement coming from the sky stole Alice’s attention. The constellation was moving!
The constellation transformed from a seemingly random arrangement of stars to a life-like image of a warrior woman, walking across the vast Underland sky. On the other side, a Bandersnatch ran around wildly, knocking the stars around.
“That’s Eyvn, the first tamer of the Bandersnatch,” he whispered as they watched the powerful woman climb on the wild beast. They soared across the sky as the woman finally managed to slow the Bandersnatch, controlling it as they rode across the horizon.
“Tarrant, this is…breathtaking,” she whispered. Alice leaned back on her hands as she sat on the lush grass and willed her eyes to turn from the majestic display in the sky to the man seated next to her.
“Aye, it is quite callouryin’,” he agreed.
Together they watched another dozen constellations come to life and, every time, Tarrant gave her a brief background of each one. When Azul, the Keeper of Light faded back into the stars, she turned to him.
“Thank you, Tarrant, for sharing this with me,” she said sincerely.
He turned to her with the Smile that only was for her. “It was my pleasure,” he replied softly.
She leaned forward, softly touching her lips to his. “Can we do this next year?”
“Every year,” he answered.
Alice felt another smile stretch her lips. They sat in silence for a few seconds before a loud roar caught her attention. “Is this part of the High Winter’s Night festivities?” she asked, confused.
A panicked look settled over Tarrant’s face. “No, I haven’t heard that terrible sound since...” he trailed off as the source of the heart-racing clamor came into view.
The Jabberwocky!
“How is this possible?” Alice said as they watched the frightful beast circling around the castle in the moonlight. She stood up and started making her way back to the castle.
Tarrant stood up, but remained frozen in fear. “Ah hae nae idea,” he admitted, his eyes turning orange. “Ye slew, smote, struck, slaughtered--”
“Tarrant!” Alice interrupted, desperate to keep him from slipping into the Madness. “I need to get the Vorpal Sword from inside the castle.”
He nodded his head, barely keeping his insanity at bay. She grabbed his hand, anchoring him. “Together, Tarrant.”
He squeezed her hand back as the first stream of fire shot from the Jabberwocky’s mouth. She could hear the screams of the confused people inside the castle. Help, they cried, looking for their Champion.
Alice and Tarrant hid themselves from the Jabberwocky’s view as they scrambled through the castle gates. Powerless, they watched as the beast swung its powerful tail and knocked over one of the towers, showering the once-safe courtyards with debris.
“We have to hurry,” Alice hissed.
Getting into the castle was going to be more difficult than she thought. The queen’s servants were fleeing the castle while the queen’s guards were running around aimlessly trying to defend their home from an enemy they could not defeat. She watched as the Tweedles waddled by quickly, trying to escape. Only when they left through the gates did Alice allow herself to not worry about the boys.
The Jabberwocky was wasting no time in destroying the castle. Between his purple fire of destruction and the strength in his tail, the castle would not stand for long. Debris from another crumbling tower fell in the courtyard, causing the people to scatter.
Despite the screams and sounds of chaos, Alice was able to make out a strong voice.
“Hatter!” cried Mally.
He stopped his journey to the armory and turned to his friend. “Come along, Mally,” he shouted, taking off his hat and holding it down on the ground so she could climb onto it. “Alice is going to save us.”
Alice closed her eyes briefly as the weight of his words settled on her.
Again, it was up to her to save Underland.
Again, it was up to her not to fail.
She watched the determined dormouse weave through rushing feet, when, suddenly, the Jabberwocky knocked over an enormous portion of the keep. Stones came crashing down around them.
Alice ducked under one of the still-standing eaves. “Mally! Tarrant! Hurry!” she yelled.
But it was too late.
A huge piece of shattered rock landed directly in front of Tarrant and crushed everything in its path.
His hat.
His hands.
Their friend.
“NO!” Alice cried, running to Tarrant.
He faced her, his face streaked with blood and grime. “Mally?” he called softly.
There was no movement under the masonry.
Alice swallowed the bile making its way up her throat. Despite the crushing devastation running through her, she knew that if she didn’t get to the armory and find the Vorpal Sword all of those who lived in Underland would suffer Mally’s fate.
“She’s dead?” he lisped to Alice. Before she could reply, he roared, “SHE’S DEAD! MURDERED! MASSACRED! ”
Alice’s heart broke at his devastation. There was no way he would be able to control his Madness now, Alice knew. “Tarrant, we must go.”
“Ye slew the Jabberwocky! This cannae b’happenin’,” he said adamantly, not hearing her. “This isnae real. It’s all a dream, delusion, de--”
“Tarrant!” she called. “We need to get the Vorpal Sword.”
He shook his head as he frantically tried to pull himself from the rubble. “Ah cannae. Ma hands are stuck. Ye must go on without me,” he said, shamed.
She knelt down, desperate to free him. She felt another wave of nausea wash over her as she saw his arms, crushed and mangled under the rock. There was no way she could save him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered as a tear from his now grey eyes fell on his face.
“I can’t do this alone!” she yelled as she watched the life drain out of his eyes.
“But, Alice, you are alone,” said a voice from behind her.
She turned to the source and gasped. Mirana, once the epitome of beauty and perfection, was bruised, cut and covered in blood.
“You are on a path of solitude that cannot be changed,” she continued. “You had a choice, Alice, and now you must accept the consequences.”
Alice faintly registered a loud crash as the last of the castle fell.
Then everything went black
With a gasp and shiver, Alice woke up in her narrow her small bed in her small cabin on the large trading ship. She ran outside her room and made her way to the ship’s edge before the remains of the previous night’s dinner went into the water.
“That’s the third one you’ve had in two weeks.”
Alice turned back to the voice, wiping her mouth. It was William, the ship’s head chef. Unlike most of the other crew, he had accepted Alice’s presence on the Wonder. Still, she ignored his unspoken offer to share what was bothering her.
“I’ll be fine.” She pasted her most reassuring smile on her face.
When Alice first started having the nightmare, she attributed it to missing her friends after being away for so long. But now, after having the same dream three times was convinced someone--or something-- was trying to tell her something very Important.
For the past two weeks, she looked for Absolem floating in the sky, but it was in vain; there was no sign of her Underlandian friend.
William didn’t comment on her obvious lie and changed subjects. “We’ll be pulling into port in the next couple of hours. Fredward has the contracts ready for you. Then, it‘s back to England.” There was no mistaking the gladness in his voice.
They only had a few merchants--and several dozen trade agreements, Alice added--to deal with before they could begin the last leg of their journey home. Then, she could finally return to Underland.
“Yes,” she agreed with a smile. “It will be wonderful to finally return home.”
As expected, the ship docked two hours later. When Alice stepped off the Wonder, a flash of blue caught her eye.
It was Absolem! Instead of flying towards her, however, he was moving in the opposite direction. She waved her hand towards him, but he paid her no attention. Alice watched helplessly until she could no longer see him floating in the sky.
She turned her attention back to the men waiting for her at the end of the dock. But instead of trade agreements, a single telegraph was handed to her.
Mother extremely ill STOP Return to London immediately STOP
Alice rushed to book passage on the fastest ship sailing for her London, ignoring her commitments to the trading company.
On the return journey home, Alice dreamed no more.
It rained on the day of Helen Kingsleigh’s funeral.
Alice stood rigidly as her mother’s casket was lowered into the ground, next to where her father had been buried years before. She looked out of the corner of her eye at Margaret who was standing under an umbrella that Lowell held.
Alice, who had decided not to carry an umbrella, shifted slightly, letting the gentle rain fall on her face. It made things seem more real, she thought as goosebumps covered her arms.
The priest said one final prayer as the coffin was finally lowered, ending the service. Alice walked to the edge and peered down, saying goodbye to her mother.
“We didn’t know if you were going to make it back in time.” There was no mistaking the disapproval in her sister’s voice.
“I left port as soon as I got the message,” replied Alice. She pulled back slightly from her mother’s final rest place. “Did she suffer terribly?”
A flash of sadness passed over Margaret’s face. She grabbed Alice’s arm and pulled her away from the crowd paying their respect to their mother. “Towards…the end, she began to have delusions from her fever. It got to the point where she would start wandering around the house in a daze. It was…difficult to watch.”
She drew a long breath. “But, as far as everyone else knows, she didn’t suffer at all. Her last days were spent in peace. I haven’t even spoken the truth to Lowell. If word got out that Mother became mad in her last days, it would be the end of the good Kingsleigh name.”
Alice bristled at her sister’s subtle dig. She knew that most of London would never support her, but she would have hoped now, after so long, her sister would show some kind of understanding of the choice she made to walk a different path.
“Tell me, Alice, do you know anything about a looking glass from when you were a child?” she asked hesitantly.
Alice shook her head. “Should I?”
“When she was ill, Mother spoke of you and a mirr--” She stopped herself and shook her head. “It doesn’t matter anyway. It was all a hallucination, I’m sure.” She began making her way back to the group of people. “What are you going to do now, Alice? Go on another adventure?”
That was, if fact, Alice’s plan, but surely she couldn’t tell her sister that!
“I’m…not sure,” she finally said.
She saw the exasperated look on Margaret’s face and could almost read her sister’s thoughts. If Alice had just accepted Hamish’s proposal, she wouldn’t have to worry about the well-being of her sister. “You don’t have to worry, Margaret,” Alice replied. “I won’t become a burden to you.”
“Alice…” she started. Then she shook her head, dismissing her words. Instead she said, “The servants are still tending to the house. You can stay there until you figure out what you want to do.”
Somehow Alice had never expected her return to London to work out this way.
She had imagined seeing her mother, alive, she added somberly, and sister. She had imagined assuring them she was fine but telling them that she had other business to attend to. Then she would have found a way to return to the Ascot estate, and the rabbit hole, to return to Underland.
Instead, she found herself standing in the middle of the house she grew up in, completely alone.
“You are on a path of solitude that cannot be changed.”
She suppressed the urge to shudder. Had her dream version of Mirana been trying to warn her about her future?
Pushing aside the disquieting thoughts, she walked into her mother’s bedroom. A fine layer of dust had settled over everything in the room, a testimony to how long her mother had been ill. The maids had offered to clean but Alice had turned down their proposal. She needed to see what it looked like when her mother had passed.
As she walked by the dresser, the scent of her mother’s perfume hit her. For the first time since she received the telegram, Alice finally allowed herself to question her actions. Had it been a mistake to go off to sea for such a long time? Would it have been better for her to remain, miserable in the constraints of London society, but able to spend time with her mother?
With a sigh, she pushed aside that line of thinking. There was no reason to second-guess herself now. Time, she knew, was a stubborn fellow. There was no use in trying to get him back once he was gone.
She looked at her mother’s bed, the last place she had been alive. A single tear slid down her face. At least, she thought, Margaret had been with her. As she turned, she noticed something sticking out slightly from under her mother’s pillow.
She lifted lifted it and saw a letter.
Addressed to her.
With the curiosity that only an Alice could have, she opened the envelope, wondering what her mother wanted to say to her from beyond the grave. As she pulled out the piece of paper, she noted, with a pang of sadness, the shaky, yet distinguishable handwriting of her mother.
Dearest Alice,
I am sorry that I did not get to tell you this in person, for I fear that you might think me mad after you read this. First of all, please understand that your father and I did what we thought was right to protect you.
Years ago, you were playing with your kittens in the main parlor room. As he was often fond of doing, your father watched as you began imagining one of your fanciful stories. That afternoon, for some reason, I was with him and, for several minutes, we watched you play when you did the most peculiar thing.
One moment you were talking to one of Dinah’s kittens and the next you were on the chair, trying to reach the mantle. You climbed onto the mantle and tried to push your way through the looking glass. To your father’s and my utter astonishment, your hand started to slip through to the other side! Your father rushed across the room and pulled you away before you could go any further.
In fear that we might lose you, we hid the mirror in your father’s study behind the large bookcase. We never spoke about that day again, but over the years, I have ventured into his study and touched the front of the looking glass with no ill effects so many times that I had convinced myself that what we saw was some kind of illusion.
But recently, Alice, I have begun to have the strangest vision. Sometimes when the nurses and your sister are busy and I am alone, I see a blue butterfly fluttering about the room. He is always trying to tell me something, but I can never hear the words that he is saying.
One day, when he flew out of the room, I followed him and he led me to the looking glass. It was then that I knew I had to tell you what your father and I had done so many years ago.
Perhaps this is all a delusion caused by my fever. I know that is what your sister believes. Still, I feel that I must tell you about the looking glass before my time on this earth is over.
Forgive me, Alice, for not telling you sooner.
With Love,
Mother
Alice folded up the letter with a slight frown. She didn’t remember any such mirror or trying to climb through any looking glass when she was a child. And had her hand started going through the surface, she would have certainly remembered that!
“Just like you would have never forgotten Underland, right?” she muttered.
It would have been easy for her to dismiss her mother’s letter as a sad reminder of how much the illness had made her mother suffer, but when she mentioned Absolem, Alice knew something Strange was going on.
Without waiting another moment, Alice made her way to her father’s study. The scents of tobacco and leather, smells that always reminded her of her father, greeted her as she entered the seldom-used room.
She stepped inside and walked to the desk in the center of the room. How many times had she been in here, listening to her father’s grand ideas? Hundreds, she assumed. Yet, she thought as she slowly approached the large bookcase, there was one thing that was too fantastic for even him to share with her.
Her curiosity encouraged her to take the final steps to the bookcase.
Unable to see behind it, Alice reached her hand out, grasping for anything that was tucked away from sight. Almost instantly, she felt the corner of the mirror brush her fingertips. Her pulse sped up.
Could her mother’s words be true?
Carefully, she slid the looking glass out from its hiding place and leaned it against the front of the bookcase. The scrolling looked oddly familiar to her, almost…Mamorealian, she thought. But that wasn’t possible.
Was it?
Her reflection caught her attention. Her once pale skin was now a golden bronze after her months at sea. Her hair has been trimmed to her shoulders after she quickly learned that a trading vessel was no place for long hair that needed to be constantly tended to. The pale blue dress she now wore made her brown eyes stand out even more than usual.
She smiled at herself briefly before collecting her Muchness and lifted her hand, touching the front of the glass. For a moment, it seemed like nothing was going to happen, but then, suddenly, her hand began sinking through the mirror.
Astonished, she pulled her hand out and scooted several feet away from the looking glass. Alice eyed her hand carefully; it had been more difficult for her to pull her hand out of the glass than she had thought it would be.
Questions raced through her mind. Should she go through? Was this her way back to her friends? What if the mirror led her to a world more Impossible than Underland?
She thought back to her mother’s letter. Had her father interfered with Fate somehow? Should she have gone through the looking glass when she was a child? Would that have allowed her to remember Underland sooner?
A flurry of movement in the mirror’s reflection ceased her thoughts. Absolem was flying behind her! She whipped around quickly, needing her friend’s advice. When she looked back, however, nothing was there. Confused, she faced the mirror again and saw him impatiently flapping his wings.
Despite the strong pull to leap into the looking glass, she knew, as she had told the Hatter years ago, there were things she needed to do. Unlike then, however, most of her affairs had been put into order.
There was, in fact, only one thing left to do.
She went to her old room and pulled out a letter that she had written to her sister when she was traveling back to London. In it, Alice explained, she would be leaving London, most likely permanently. She knew once she heard about her mother’s fate, that there was nothing keeping her in England anymore.
It was for the best, Alice told herself as she walked back into her father’s study. She set the letter on the middle of his desk, propping it up against the large book.
She drew in a long breath and touched the glass, noting her hand slipped in more easily this time. As she was about to go into the mirror, she looked back at the empty study and whispered, “Fairfarren.”
Then she slid through completely.
Part 2