Work Text:
The day started out like any other. The birds sang their morning tune, the house rose with the sun, and the Mad Hatter awoke with them both. The tea kettle was whistling away by half past seven, which stirred the rest of the occupants of outer Marmoreal. Alice was no exception. She, unlike the Hatter, rose more or less with the locusts in the early afternoon. Cracking one tired eye open, she blearily took in the raving silhouette of the Hatter, whose very presence seemed just as loud as the tea kettle.
Dishes clinked against one another as he prepared his morning tea. No matter how much she tried to lull herself back to sleep, the Hatter would mutter something to himself, or drop a teaspoon, or clang his teacup against the porcelain charger one chink! too loudly. Her attempts at some extra shut-eye soon proved themselves to be fruitless. Frustrated, Alice pulled herself out of bed with a groan.
"Alice!" He grinned toothily at her. There was a splotch of Bratterberry jam on the corner of his mouth from his breakfast. If it weren't for her morning crankiness, she would have laughed at it. "I hope you've slept well. In fact, I slept so well that I dreamt of old times. Old times, yes, of when you first arrived here after so long of not remembering. Back when that bloody bhig head was still hoarding the crown, that conniving, sniveling, greedy-"
"Good morning, Tarrant," She softly cut off the thickening brogue of his voice, "you must have had a bad dream."
"Right." The Hatter choked on his words, halting himself. "I suppose so. Yes, bad dream."
He tinkered about quietly for a few minutes, sipping his tea, but she could tell by the ceaseless pacing of his eyes that his mind was anything but idle. Alice knew that if she weren't there, he'd continue on with his ranting even if the walls and teacups were his only audience. Sometimes she felt a great responsibility in being one of the few reasons he stayed still. Despite the pressure, she wouldn't give it up for the world. Whenever she found herself drowning beneath the weight of her own sanity, he was always there to remind her how to swim in it. Their friendship as of late had become something deeper. It was a seedling of a much larger bloom, which for the first time in her life, Alice was content to settle long enough in order to nurture. After all of her years traveling, especially after the loss of her mother, there seemed no excuse to do anything but.
And rest she wished she could do. The Hatter had gotten up from his seat, shoving buttons in his pockets and placing a thimble on each finger in which he needed it. His mindless prattering had bled into background noise for Alice, who was still pulling herself away from the sticky edges of sleep. Slumber never liked to see her leave.
Hatter worked in the workshop attached to his home for a few hours. Alice wandered out into the morning to give him some time alone. He was incredibly dedicated to his craft, and she often felt like a distraction when he had orders to fill. Her feet wandered the path towards the castle. She didn't have much to do, really. Her apparent title as champion had lived on, making her something akin to non-official royalty. She'd only been living in Underland for a few months and both the Queen and the Hatter allowed her to want for nothing. But with the extra time on her hands, Alice had begun to feel like she'd entered some sort of early retirement. She certainly did not feel old enough for that.
The early portion of her walk had supplied her with good weather, but even this seemed unable to lift her mood. Then the wind picked up and drew clouds in from the Queast. When it began to rain, she realized she did not bring a coat or a parasol. Alice cursed.
"My, what a naughty word." Came a smooth voice in her right ear. Alice jumped.
"Won't you quit sneaking up on me?" She huffed. "Good morning, Cheshire."
"Good morning, Alice," He purred, "I didn't mean to scare you."
She grimaced. "I suppose I didn't mean to be scared."
The cat accompanied her during her walk. He cracked a few grins at her soaking wet hair and squishy shoes. Neither of them expected it to pour, but only Alice seemed to suffer the consequences of it. Her stockings - blasted things! Why did she ever choose to put them on? - squelched as she walked across the marble floors of Marmoreal Castle.
"Will you stop that?" Alice snapped at him.
He snickered, "stop what?"
"Laughing at me." She mumbled. "I've had enough."
"Where is your hatter to raise your spirits?" Cheshire said lazily. "Or did you scare him away with your dour mood? It's probably brought the rain in, you know."
"I did not, and it did not!" She cried.
"Alice?" Mirana's voice echoed in the hall. "Is that you? You're all wet!"
She was grateful that Mirana's sharpened glance sent the damned cat away. Alice was usually in much better spirits, and thus quicker-witted in conversing with him. She and the Queen took to some tea while her clothes dried. In the meantime, she nursed her bad mood dressed in a fluffy, white robe by the fire.
"Have you and the Hatter.." Mirana began cautiously, "merged arrangements?"
"We don't live together just yet." Alice said. "But most of his things are at the house you lent me, and I spend most nights at his."
"You know, Alice, should you ever need anything-" The Queen placed a cold hand on hers, "I've a myriad of herbal remedies, you know. If it becomes necessary."
"In which way?" Alice peered at her.
Mirana grinned knowingly, "in any way you need."
Their conversation veered off onto other topics. The rest of the afternoon was spent this way: chatting over books they'd read, riddles, or stories of Underland that Alice had not heard yet. She was grateful for Mirana's company. The White Queen always seemed to soothe her nerves. Their friendship had blossomed during Alice's elongated stay. Although the rough edges of a bad morning still prickled the very outer edges of her mood, Alice found herself wanting to apologize to Cheshire for snapping at him. She reasoned that cats did not often feel any mood other than sly.
When Alice's clothes had dried a few hours later, she bid Mirana a brief goodbye and peered nervously up at the sky for any sign of bad weather. There was none. The sun shone down on the rolling hills of Marmoreal, and the breeze was fair. Relieved, Alice stepped outside of the castle gates and resumed her trek elsewhere. She made sure to keep her thoughts light-hearted, in order to keep the clouds away.
All was going well. She thought of picking up some sweets downtown or perhaps some savory ingredients for a dinner. When she stepped into the local butcher, it was clear to her by the twitch in his eye that he seemed to feel the same way as she had all day.
"We're almost closing." He huffed at her. Alice glanced towards the sign on the front door.
"It says you close at half past moon-shine." She read the sign back to him. "The sun hasn't even set yet."
"Well, it's my business, you know. What I say goes." The butcher tossed his knife down on the butcher block. "Come on, then, what'll it be?"
"Two pounds of the Outland Crock, please." She crinkled her nose at him. "That's not a very polite way of doing business. I was in business myself for years."
He slammed the meat, wrapped haphazardly in parchment, down onto the counter before peering down at her with one squinted eye. "Business is business," he croaked, "that'll be 6 coins from a dead man's pocket."
"Why a dead man and not an alive one?" She asked, pulling them from her dress pocket and handing them to him.
"Business is business." He repeated.
Alice refrained from rolling her eyes. It seemed that all of the work to wring out her crankiness had been undone. As much as she preferred Underland to London, she realized that not everyone there was as pleasant as Mirana or the Hatter. The butcher's rudeness grated on her during her walk back to the Mad Hatter's house. Perhaps she should have opted for the sweets instead of the meat. To make things worse, she tripped over an exposed tree root, which left a painful red scrape on her knee (she'd left those accursed stockings back at the castle!). The meat tumbled out of her hands and rolled farther up the path. The only thing that kept her from screaming out her frustrations was the parchment still tucked safely around the meat.
"I should have worn trousers." She muttered bitterly, wincing as she dusted the dirt from her scraped knee. "At least I can hide away from my bad luck once I get back."
When the Mad Hatter's hat-shaped house came into view, she sighed in relief. The lights were off in the workshop. She wondered if Tarrant was waiting for her. As she approached the front door, she heard the chaos inside. From the front window she saw Mally and the March Hare playing cards at the dining room table. Shattered tea cups and sugar cubes laid strewn about on the floor. Alice could have sworn her eye twitched. Ordinarily, she loved the eccentric mayhem of her friends, but today it felt suffocating. She took a deep breath in before opening the front door. The trio quieted for a moment to lay eyes on her. Tarrant's wide smile greeted her from his head at the table.
"Alice!" He grinned toothily. It made her feel the teensiest bit better.
"Of course it's Alice, she's always late. Who else would it be?" Mally quipped. And there the silver lining brought on by the Hatter was: gone.
"Alice! Oh, she's brought some dinner, in her hand there - no sweets? No - spoon." The March Hare rattled to himself.
She forced a tight smile. Judging by the twitch in the Hatter's cheek, he noticed the tension in her face. Of course he did. He always noticed everything about her. She glided past the table and into the kitchen, where she placed the parchment on the counter. In truth, she was in no mood for Mally's joking jabs in the same way she was in no mood for Cheshire's teasing. She had no want to clean up every cup the March Hare threw across the room. And worst of all, she knew the Hatter would let them. And it wasn't fair for her to demand that his company go home, because it wasn't her house to begin with.
"Alice," The Hatter's soft lisp came from behind her, "have you been well? You've been out all day, you know."
"Yes, Hatter, I'm fine. I just -" She peered over his shoulder at their two friends, who had begun to loudly talk over one another. "Perhaps I should go home for the night."
He furrowed a red brow, "but- but they've only just arrived, and we've been waiting for you to serve the scones."
She wilted. "I'm sorry, Tarrant, I'm not in the best spirits today."
He placed a warm hand on her arm to guide her closer to him. It was a subtle gesture, one that nobody else would take notice of unless they were really paying attention. The Hatter frowned at her and her heart ached a little. She would never want to wound him. Between them existed a single strand of silken thread; a web not yet woven strong enough to hold whatever might threaten to fall through it. Alice was afraid to ruin it. He would let her go if she asked, and that made her want to stay for him. His fingers cupped the back of her elbow, caressing the soft skin there.
"How does an Alice make her Spirits more Alice-y?" He asked quietly. "Perhaps if we tell her Spirits a well-thought-out joke, they'll find themselves to be forgiving."
"Hatter!" Came Mallymkun's little voice. "What in name's sake are you kissing up on her for? Get back to the game!"
"What's in the sake of a name?" The March Hare added.
The Mad Hatter's eyes darkened to a hazy amber at her joke. His hand dropped from Alice's arm before he turned around to face them. Alice herself held back a groan. The two of them, while slowly discovering this newfound trust between them, had wordlessly agreed on keeping it, well, a secret until they chose a new label for themselves. Only Mirana had managed to sniff out what was going on and remained Alice's only confidant on the matter.
"Alright!" The Hatter clapped his hands. "Out with ye both!"
"What?" Mally crumbled in her seat. "But we've hardly begun!"
"Alice is nae feelin' well," He said finally, but the brogue in his voice made his irritation quite obvious. "An' I will'nae' have 'er goin' home in such a state."
"CUP!" The March Hare yelled, jumping from his chair in a very hare-like fashion. "Hatter- angry- Mally's fault!"
Mally screeched, a blush coming through her fur, "My fault!? What'd I do?!"
"Yer jests - jestin' so, such a thing as too much -" The Hare crooned, throwing a cube of sugar in her direction. "Cube!"
Mally wrinkled and wriggled her nose in the Hatter's direction, as if demanding him explain himself. He sucked his teeth and crossed his arms. Alice sighed. "Now, everyone, there's no need-"
The Hatter raised his hand to silence her. Alice's eyes went wide at the sight of his fingers waving in her face. He continued: "Now, Mally, we shall continue the game tomorrow. Scram!"
The Hare and the Mouse left the Hatter's house, but not without complaint. Mally shot both he and Alice a hot look over her shoulder to let them know the conversation had not ended, and that she would certainly demand an explanation the next day. When they were out of sight, Tarrant clasped his hands together and turned to her with a grin on her face. He stopped short when he noticed the particularly venomous look in her eye.
"You needn't cut me off." She bit at him. He raised his hands as if bracing himself.
"I only thought you needed a break!" He defended. "And Mally has no need to be saying such things at all."
"You still oughtn't do it." Alice fought. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't."
She turned to the counter to where she left the parchment. Unwrapping it, she set it aside to be chopped before looking for some sort of cooking pot. The Hatter sighed dejectedly behind her. She heard the clinking of dishes as he stacked them away. Alice peeked over her shoulder to see that he had cleared the table. She bit her lip as she began to feel guilty.
"I wish you hadn't sent them away." She said quietly. "I feel badly for having cut your night short."
"Alice!" The Hatter flapped his hands, exasperated. "Don't feel bad. It's not like we can turn back Time. He wouldn't like that, you know. We shall see them tomorrow."
"But Mally's already turned her nose up at me. Now she'll find even more reason to do so." Alice argued.
Tarrant shook his head, "Pay her no mind, then, Alice. It's quite alright."
"It's not alright!" She frowned.
"Alice!"
She raised her chin to look at him. His eyebrow twitched. She was sure that hers did the same. Twitching seemed to be the latest fashion, because it was seemingly all that she or anybody could do. Despite the uncharacteristic sternness in his voice, his eyes remained their usual bright shade of serpent green. Clearly he was not truly angry with her. Alice wished she could say that she did not feel the heat of frustration rise to her cheeks. Her chest rose and fell with a few calming breaths.
"I'm sorry, Tarrant, I -" She shook her head. "I've had a not-so-great day, it seems."
His face softened, "It's no matter."
He closed the gap between them, striding over lean beside her against the kitchen counter. Their shoulders brushed against one another, and the action made her feel at home. Instinctually, she leaned into him, letting her head fall on his shoulder. Alice sighed. She didn't mean to take her anger out on him. It seemed that even in magical places such as Underland, one cannot always escape a bad mood. Alice peered over at him, only to find him looking at her expectantly. Pressing his lips together, he waited for her to break the silence. Her heart pitter-pattered; he was always waiting for her.
"I suppose we should start with dinner." Alice smiled at him. "Cooking requires no skills in sulking."
After they had prepared and eaten dinner, Tarrant reached across the table to gently capture her hand in his. He brought it to his lips and placed a kiss on each knuckle. From then on, she determined, Alice was sure that he'd be there to fight off all of her bad days alongside her.