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"I am so sick and tired of you two!"
Viktor startled at the sound and barely held onto his teacup before he turned shocked eyes to the floating book spirit in the sky. She resembled the little girl, Alice, from the magic book they were currently existing in a dream of and had her hands on her hips. The spirit glared down the long table where he sat with his crush and housemaid of the same name. The little girl's blonde hair and blue pinafore dress fanned out as if she were constantly in midfall rather than hovering in place.
"Oh, hello there, Alice," his own Alice replied with a kind smile. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?"
"It's your company that I am sick and tired of! I told you not to come back!" The floating little girl declared and stomped her foot. "You were supposed to find the white rabbit and help me out, but you've been here six times this month, and all you do is sit around at tea parties and play croquet! That's not helping me, and I'm tired of being used so you two can have your touchy-feely little dates! No more Miss Nice Spirit, and definitely no wishes after all this lovey-dovey nonsense!"
Viktor attempted a weak chuckle. "Isn't your book kind of built on nonsense, though? I would think you'd be happy we're honoring that by having a little fun here."
A gleam lit in the little girl's eyes as she crossed her arms and looked smugly down at them. "Oh, so you like coming here for the nonsense? Well maybe if I take that all away, it'll actually help motivate you to get out of your self-absorbed love bubble and help me for once!"
The floating girl gave a mighty pout as she clapped her hands together, and he gasped as the entire world went white.
Viktor blinked rapidly as the world came into view again, but rather than any forests or castle gardens, he was instead greeted by a translucent, warped reflection of himself looking back. Wondering just where the book spirit had taken them, it was only when Viktor noticed the reflection was getting further away that he realized he was falling.
“AAhhhhhh!!”
He landed quickly with a thud and a bounce on some sort of spongy grass. Viktor laid back and sighed with relief. "Well, that was terrifying, but I suppose it could’ve been worse, right, Alice?” he asked.
As he looked around for her, frowning at the strange mixture of wild growth and smooth buildings, a shape above him caught his eye. A large black object was falling out of the translucent ball he came from. Viktor held his arms in front of him, closed his eyes, and gritted his teeth as he braced for impact. A loud ‘pop’ sound like a parasol opening reached his ears seconds before something soft but solid fell into his hands and came to settle on his chest.
Viktor hesitantly opened his eyes, only to be shrouded in darkness. Warm darkness. It felt like he was hiding under a blanket but with something placed on his chest. He squeezed his hands to try and see what he’d caught. It was tricky because the dream world the magic book created muted his senses. The object had some give to it, and the parts on his shoulders moved when he gave it another squeeze.
“Oh, Bocchan,” Alice’s muffled voice came from the other side of the darkness. “Your touch is so firm but gentle.”
“Alice?!” Viktor squeaked out, and his hands tensed around what he now realized were her hips, meaning—meaning—
Face burning, he stared ahead at darkness but was acutely aware of what he might see with just a bit of light. “Umm, Alice?” he called out. “Would you mind—uh getting off me, please?”
His fingers briefly tightened again, betraying what he really wished she’d do. Not that he could feel such touch in this dream world, but perhaps if she lifted her skirt to stand and she was wearing that see-through set of undergarments again, he’d be close enough to see—
“I’m sorry, Bocchan; I’m afraid I can’t understand you through the fabric,” Alice said, though it was still muted. She shifted forward, and Viktor sputtered as he tried to tell her to stop. His hands tightened again. That was really very close! “Let me lift my skirt so I can hear what you’re saying.”
Light filtered in, and Viktor squinted and blinked as his eyes adjusted. He caught flashes of thigh-high stockings and garters leading to a pair of—
“—headin’ over the ledge. Should—Oh! My apologies! I’ll just turn about then." A man's voice sounded from somewhere above his head. Viktor scrambled to get out from under Alice, his face feeling impossibly on fire when he slid his hands around her backside to lift her up so he could slide out between her legs.
“Oh, Bocchan.”
“No wait!” Viktor shouted as he scrambled to his feet. “It’s not what it looks like!”
“No need to stop! I’ll be gone in a tick!”
“Please stay!” Viktor pleaded as he quickly righted himself.
He desperately didn’t want the man to leave more than he cared about being found in such a compromising position. Any help was better than no help with figuring out where the book spirit had brought them. Free from Alice’s skirt, he finally got a look around and was taken aback by the sight. They seemed to have been tossed in some strange, unkept garden surrounded by outrageously tall buildings. Buildings that reached impossibly high to the clouds—and was that one some distance away upside down?!
Viktor gulped and turned towards where the voice had come from. A man stood some twenty feet away wearing a decidedly strange suit. The necktie, shoes, and trousers seemed normal enough—albeit an uncommon, dark red color—but the complex, brightly patterned shirt and shiny, thick brown jacket were a mystery. He also wore what appeared to be a short beige top hat that his disheveled black-brown hair seemed to be fighting or that his hat was doing its best to contain. Honestly, his whole outfit was a bit askew, like some kind of rogue. Viktor scrambled to help Alice up, suddenly worried over what sort of individual had happened upon them.
“It’s fine if it is so,” the man insisted and smirked as he held his hands up. “Not the sort of spot I’d pick for such an activity, but to each their own, yeah?”
“No really!” Viktor protested, “We were just enjoying tea before we got sent here and fell out of the floating ball.” He gestured behind him where the translucent ball bounced off the ground—the grass pressed inside, growing, drying, and sprouting anew before reversing the process—and slowly continued on towards the building ledge before rolling down.
“I believe it’s more like a bubble than a ball, your grace,” Alice said, and Viktor rubbed the back of his neck.
“Yes,” he nervously chuckled, “I think you’re right about that. Unless balls float here. We’ve seen stranger things, I suppose.”
When he turned back, the stranger was staring intently at them. It was a calculating look, and Viktor began to worry over the man’s nature again when he inquired, “Your grace?”
“Yes,” Alice smiled as she faced the man. “Bocchan is the heir to a dukedom." Viktor nodded stiffly before adjusting his clothing, giving his jacket a brush off and his top hat a slight shift to clean up his appearance.
“I see,” the man said. He then made a thinking noise as he set his hands on his hips and asked, “How did a duke and his lady end up without an escort?”
“Oh, Alice is my maid,” Viktor corrected and blushed as he cleared his throat. “Though she’s a very dear friend to me as well.”
The man’s eyes darted to Alice and roved over her, lingering on parts that Viktor very much did not appreciate, before darting back over to him. “Alice,” he stated. “Your name’s Alice?”
“Yes,” she confirmed, "like the one from the story.”
The man tilted his head and squinted at them. Before Viktor could suggest that maybe they should just go look around on their own, the stranger clapped his hands together.
“Well! It would be remiss of me not to offer you hospitality at my shop to finish your tea party, seein’ as yours was so rudely interrupted by that time bubble,” he grinned at them and bowed. “I could do no less for a member of the royal court, after all.”
"Oh, erm, thank you,” Viktor haltingly replied. “No, uh, no need to do all that, but tea would be lovely.”
Alice curtseyed. “I would be happy to assist in preparing it.”
The man’s smile pulled to something more lecherous as his gaze dragged over Alice’s chest again before turning congenial. Viktor frowned and stood in front of her. “Actually, I require that Alice stay with me, and I don’t believe we’ve gotten your name, sir.”
“Apologies! It seems my mind has made away with my manners,” the man said as he bowed once more. He grabbed the brim of his strange hat when he did, giving it a twirl, a toss, and a flourish before flipping it back on his head. “The name’s Hatter. I run one of the Queen’s Tea Shops, not a few blocks from here. If you’d like to follow me, I can get you two right ways ‘round and red-rosed faster than a dormouse sneeze.”
“Was all of that really necessary,” Viktor muttered, and Alice giggled behind him. He cleared his throat before responding firmly, “We’d be most appreciative of the tea, but what we really need help with is finding the white rabbit.”
Hatter tilted his head and squinted at them again before looking pleasant as he asked, “The white rabbit? Is that who’d been… escorting you?”
“No,” Viktor stated, "but I’ve been tasked with collecting them before we can return home.”
“Right,” Hatter said slowly and nodded. “Return ya home. Where you’re the Duke of…” He gestured with both hands supplicantly.
Viktor tensed. He felt like a trap was being laid, and he tried to figure out what answer Hatter was looking for. Were they still in that dream Wonderland? It looked nothing like the one they’d been in, but… things still felt muted, and it had a similar feel of absurdity with the impossible architecture around him. Even if it was more bleak than it was fantastical.
“Clubs,” Alice spoke up from behind him, jolting him out of his thoughts. Viktor chanced a glance back to see her looking perfectly pleasant and unbothered. “Of course.”
“Of course." Hatter smiled, and his position relaxed. Viktor let out a subtle breath of his own. That had felt close.
“Well, I can certainly point you right ways round for that as well, Your Grace," Hatter continued as he walked closer. “Let's pop by the shop. You can both have a spot of tea while I take care of some business, and then we’ll continue on to the white rabbit.” He smiled kindly and grabbed Alice’s hand, bowing over it and laying a light kiss on the back. Viktor scowled at their hands.
Hatter’s eyes darted between them, and he smirked as he stood back up. “I could do no less for such courtly company and his… legendary companionship.”
One short and height-defying walk later, Hatter held the door open to his tea shop with that accommodating smile of his that Viktor didn’t trust. As much as the walk had distracted him with its impossible architecture and copious flora overgrowth, so was the inside of the shop equally as disconcerting. Upon entering, the dull roar of voices assaulted him. Over three dozen people were talking, yelling, or singing over top of each other. All of the men were dressed in a not too dissimilar fashion to Hatter—though they had colorful cloth suits rather than shiny jackets—and the women…
Viktor blushed and averted his eyes to the floor. There was entirely too much calf on public display to be appropriate for company. The floor thankfully held a distraction, another odd aspect to this shop, as it was covered in wildflowers, grass, and dirt. They were clearly still in the dream world with all these absurdities around.
Alice gently pulled on the crook of his elbow, focusing his attention, and they continued further in. Hatter led them to a table by the back wall where a pair of men sat with bottles of brightly colored liquid. Both were grungy in appearance, though the one with stringy oily hair arguably looked worse.
“Ratty,” Hatter stated, “I’m in need of the table.”
“Oh, Hatter! I got sumethin’ to show ya. I rescued a new wunder from the river—"
Hatter held up his hand and said, “It’ll have to wait. I’ve got guests.” He tilted his head back towards them. The men's eyes widened and they nodded repeatedly.
“Of course!” Ratty obliged as he stood and fumbled to grab his bottles as he attempted to… curtsy? “Beggin your royals’ pardon!” The other man wiped off the table—an action that only spread his filth on it—and gave his own rushed curtsey before calling after Ratty to wait for him.
Hatter’s lips were pursed as he watched them go before he noticed Viktor staring and immediately smiled. “Here we are!” He removed a handkerchief from his jacket and wiped down the smooth, oddly curved chair before rotating it in place and offering it to Alice.
“Thank you,” Alice demurred as she sat down in it, and Viktor scowled. Hatter did the same for him, however, with the second chair, and he supposed it was only polite to offer a lady the first seat. His thank you was perhaps more perfunctory than Alice’s, but Hatter didn’t remark on it.
The man frowned as he rapped a knuckle on the table. “I’ll have someone out to clean this in a tick so… best to not touch it before then, alright?” They both nodded, and Hatter grinned before sauntering off.
"Well, this place is strange in a new unsettling way, so we must still be in Wonderland,” Viktor said as he turned towards Alice. She was looking around the shop with inquisitive eyes but turned to face him after he spoke.
“Oh, yes,” she agreed, “I saw the sign on the building earlier.”
“Sign?”
Alice nodded. “A large notice on the building across the way. Something about the Queen of Hearts looking for Clubs to employ.”
Viktor smiled. “Ah, that explains where you got the fake name for my Dukedom. I wondered how you’d thought of it.”
“Indeed, Bocchan,” Alice smiled with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, “I’m wondering if this is a possible fut—"
“Well hey there, folks!”
He startled at the new voice and turned just in time to see a blonde woman, her wavy hair cut unfashionably short, and her clothing—
Viktor averted his eyes as blood rushed to his cheeks, but the image was seared into his mind. Her pink dress was cut so short it looked no longer than some of his own untucked shirts, with a neckline that displayed her… bosom just as much as Alice did, her arms completely bare, and it clung tight like some of the dresses in the Witch’s World. He supposed he should feel fortunate that her dress at least wasn’t those tiny scraps of cloth some of the witches wore…
“Lemme just get this table all spick-and-span for yas,” the buxom woman cajoled as she leaned forward to clean. Viktor kept his gaze straight ahead to not stare directly. He also held a hand up to block her indecent attire—fingers only slightly parted to make sure he could see her enough to track her, of course—and ended up locking eyes with Alice’s knowing smile.
“Name’s Carlotta Saint Delaware, but that’s a mouthful, so I go by Della,” the newly named Della brightly informed them as she stood back up.
“Now, Hatter said he’s taking special care of y’all, meaning anything ya like is on the house!” Della giggled. “So what’ll it be? Bit of joy? Excitement? Or maybe—"
She leaned closer to him, and Viktor swallowed as he habitually leaned away. “Some lust for a Duke and his legendary companion to get things buttered up, hmm?”
“That’s a bit inappropriate, don’t you think?!” Viktor squeaked out.
“Hey, we don’t judge, darlin!” Della cooed and reached around to pinch the cheek on the far side of his face. “You're brave to flaunt your fancies, but we keep things nice and private!”
“Right, private,” Viktor mumbled, “Just us and thirty or so other people as witnesses.” He sighed and added, “At least it’s all a dream and no one real would actually see anything.”
Della giggled. “And here was Hatter saying y’all weren’t red-rosed already! I knew lust would be your match. I’ll be back in a flash, dears.”
Viktor sighed, and he lowered his hand as Della walked into the open doorway behind them. “Perhaps we should just leave and try to find the white rabbit ourselves. I’m not sure any tea this establishment might serve will be worth it. Especially since our senses are muted in this dream world.”
He smiled at Alice, but she was inspecting the room with a pensive look. “Alice?” he prompted, and she quickly smiled at him.
“My apologies, Bocchan. I was just thinking that… it does look so oddly real for being a dream, don’t you think?
“What do you mean?” Viktor frowned as he looked around. “It doesn’t seem more real than the tea party we were at before we were sent here. Maybe less fantastical, but certainly just as real-looking."
Alice hummed thoughtfully and trailed a finger along the unnaturally smooth and shiny table. “Visually it looks just as real, as you said, but this place is worn,” she explained and lifted a finger that had traces of grime that Della had missed. "There are dirt paths in the grass where people have walked, mended clothing, and weathered buildings. Things you don’t see in dreams where everything is perfect and pristine.”
“Well,” he started as he tried to find an explanation, “the spirit did say it was taking us somewhere without nonsense, so maybe that’s what it meant? It gave us a Wonderland that looks bleak while still being not quite right.” He gestured to where a group of people were giggling and sipping from teacups as they swapped hats and danced around their table in what he could only deduce was a strange version of musical chairs.
“Perhaps we should just stop playing along and be direct. I certainly don’t enjoy spending time in this version of Wonderland.”
Before Alice could reply, Hatter walked over to their table. A tray in his hands contained one of the bottles of brightly colored liquid, a pair of teacups with spoons, and a slightly dented teapot. He set the tray down next to them and gestured at it with a flourish and a grin. “Ta da! A pairing for our noble pairing.”
“Thank you." Alice smiled and began to shift things to serve the tea. “It’s very kind of you to offer refreshments and also give us aid.”
He walked over to the table of dancing people and removed a chair—which someone then missed sitting in and fell to the floor—before setting it at their table and seating himself. “As I said earlier, I could do no less for a member of the court,” he charmed, and watched Alice pour tea before looking at Viktor. “No doubt the Queen will hear all about it once you meet with the white rabbit after all.”
“Errr, I suppose." Viktor hesitated and tried to catch Alice’s eye to see if she agreed with his idea, but she was fixated on carefully pouring the tea under Hatter’s watchful gaze. Deciding to commit to it, as he could see no harm, he shrugged and added, “Though I was given the impression by Alice that we’d be done once we finally got the white rabbit for her.”
“Oh?” Hatter inquired and looked away from Alice as she added a little splash of the mysterious pink liquid to their tea. "Your... companion set up this quest for ya? A little… historical reenactment for sport?”
Viktor huffed, “Not my Alice, the spirit one who brought us here." A little girl in a blue dress that’s always falling.”
“Bocchan,” Alice whispered in warning as she passed him a teacup.
“Alice, it’s fine,” he reassured her and took the offered cup. He gave it an exaggerated sniff—barely noting a strange fruity scent to it—before taking a gulp. There was an oddly… heated element with the muted fruit taste, like a spice with no flavor, that gave him pause. Seeing her concern, Viktor quickly smiled at Alice as he set his cup down and gave his collar a tug. It felt distinctly warmer for some reason.
“See? Couldn’t taste a thing. None of it’s real. We’ll just tell the dream man what we’re here for, and we can go back home. Though we’ll have to find another story for our dates.” He smiled and his face warmed as he reached over to set his hand on her own, gently stroking his thumb across the back of her hand.
“Oh-kay,” Hatter drew out as he reached over and took Alice’s cup before she could have a sip. He set everything back on the tray and pulled it back over to himself. “I think perhaps we are a bit deeper in our cups than I’d noticed,” he stated happily and then whistled.
Della darted over with a big grin that slipped away when Hatter handed her the tray. She looked at him, and he shook his head before inclining it towards the back. “Keep the mixes for yourself if you like, but clean up the rest so there’s nothing curious hands and eyes might target. Ya got it?”
“Of course! Oh, you’re a wonder, Hatter!” Della cooed and gave him a kiss on each cheek before scurrying away.
Viktor joined Hatter in watching her go, oddly mesmerized by the sway and bounce of the shiny beaded tassels on her tiny skirt. Then a hand was suddenly on top of his own. “Bocchan?”
He blinked rapidly to focus and looked back at Alice. A warm glow filled him. She looked beautiful like that. Eyes wide and full of concern. Lips pressed together tight. He wanted to press his lips to hers. Why hadn’t they kissed yet in all of their dates to this dream world? He should fix that.
"Yes, Alice?” he asked as he leaned in closer to do just that when Hatter rotated her chair around and offered her his hand.
“Apologies for my misread." He smiled charmingly and helped her stand. “Now, I’d offer ya a room, help the poor Dukeling out now and all, but it’s not on to engage in such if you’re not on the same level, which you’re clearly not. Given his heights… it’ll take awhile till he hits full blush, and I’m thinkin’ it’s best to scuttle you two on home to—"
He let go of Alice’s hands and made an obscene gesture. Viktor felt his mouth open and close as he attempted to deny it, but all he could think was, ‘Could they even do that in a dream?’ He supposed they’d done such activities in his private dreams plenty of times, so maybe…
Alice looked back at him, her face flushed but a smirk upon her lips. “Ah, I see,” she said and then looked back at Hatter. “I suppose privacy would be nice.”
“But we can’t at home,” Viktor interjected with just a bit of whine. “I can’t touch you there, Alice.”
Hatter considered him and then shared a look with Alice. “Royals, yeah? Mad, the whole lot of ‘em.”
Alice giggled, and Viktor reached for her, pulling her back flush up against his front. He frowned before he pressed her closer. Why did it feel like he was both touching her and touching nothing? He sent his glare at Hatter. “We are not mad.”
“Never said she was,” Hatter quipped and inclined his head to the right. "White rabbit building is just a few blocks away. Supposin’ we’re quick enough; maybe you can buy some privacy in the scarab on your journey home.”
“Is he always chasin’ after you skirt back home as well?”
Alice flushed and smirked at Hatter before glancing behind her. Bocchan was a different kind of emotional mess than what she was used to seeing. One second glaring at Hatter, the next pouting at her with the most pleading look before it shifted to something more... hungry. He would reach for her then, and Hatter would subtly shift his arm, where she was holding onto the crook of his elbow, to move her out of Bocchan’s reach with a dance turn. Which then started the cycle over.
His grace had gotten carried away with touch in a manner he’d never tried before in the dream world, which had led to this walking arrangement. He’d started by escorting her while caressing her hand or arm—though she could barely feel it in this theoretical dreamscape—when a root along their path had tripped him up. As he’d flailed his arms, she’d shifted to help catch him, and the end result had him landing face-first into her breasts. She’d blushed heavily, having previously only dreamed of him in such a placement, before he’d mumbled into her skin.
“They must be soft. Why can’t I feel how soft you are? Alice, please let me feel how soft you are.”
He’d shaken his head and tried to pull her closer before Hatter had intervened, stepping behind Bocchan and pulling him off of her before muttering about never getting a break and then taking over escorting her.
“I’m typically the one tempting him actually,” Alice admitted as she looked back at Hatter. “He was correct in saying we cannot touch back home.”
Hatter smirked and made an amused sound before looking back at Bocchan briefly. “Perhaps I should’ve let ya handle things back at the shop. I’m not keen on such an imbalance, but if you’d insisted…” His meaning was clear, and Alice flushed as she looked ahead. A building with a rabbit head in profile on the doors was looming large in front of them.
“No. It’s better we didn’t. I wouldn’t want his grace to not be in control of himself the first time,” she admitted.
“Can’t imagine many blokes are. Tea or courtly manners notwithstanding,” he commented and brought them to a stop in front of the building’s stairs. “But I can respect the concept.” Hatter lowered his arm but grabbed her hand for a quick kiss before releasing her. “The white rabbit, as requested, dear Alice.”
Bocchan huffed and took the chance to pull her away from Hatter while she looked at the building. ‘White Rabbit Organization’ was printed on the doors below the rabbit image, and it gave her pause. She supposed she shouldn’t have expected an actual white rabbit, given how this… strangely real Wonderland hadn’t been quite right, but she wasn’t quite sure what to do now that they were here.
“It's just a building,” Bocchan objected. “Where’s the white rabbit?”
Hatter squinted at the young master before raising an eyebrow at her. “Not sure what other tea you were havin’ before the lust, but see that you keep ‘im up and at’em, yeah? I’d imagine you’d be blamed if he goes tippin’ over a ledge.”
Alice had her suspicions about the tea but knew she couldn’t ask and merely dipped her head. “Of course. His grace’s safety is my utmost concern.”
“Yeah, I’m her—I'm her—" He sighed and wrapped himself around her from behind. “I’m hers.”
“Suppose it’s just so if you’re willin’ to take on an Alice,” Hatter chuckled. “Never catch me ever riskin’ the Queen’s ire in such a fashion.” He bowed, sweeping his hat off his head before giving it an elegant flip to land back on his head. “A very merry day to you both!”
As he walked off, Alice attempted to curtsy while Bocchan continued to embrace her. One of his hands wandered up to trace the outside of her corset bust, and even though she couldn’t feel it, the bold intent of the action made her blush. She gently but firmly removed his hands, making him whine adorably, and she looked back at his flushed and needy face. “You’ll have to focus, Bocchan. I believe we need to head inside to find the white rabbit.”
"Oh, I wouldn’t do that.”
The voice was a new one, strange and almost discordant like one of Bocchan’s requiems, and Alice turned to face where it had come from. A large brown tabby cat, easily the size of a great dane, lay upon the awning of the White Rabbit building. “Nothing good ever comes from chasing white rabbits, you know,” it added as it lazily swung its tail around. Its face split into a grin too large to be natural when they locked eyes.
“Nothing good ever comes from not chasing them either,” Bocchan ground out.
The cat rotated its head upside down. “Not chasing what?”
“The white rabbit!” Bocchan spat out.
“Which rabbit?”
“You just said—!" Bocchan yelled, his voice high and flustered in a very different manner as he stomped his feet. What a strange shift in his emotions.
Curious, Alice looked from the young master to the cat. It winked at her as the door to the building opened. A man in a three-piece gray suit with light brown hair strode out and down the steps. “Oi! What’s with all the commotion out here? Who are you two—"
As soon as the man cleared the awning, the cat elegantly leapt off and onto his head. It continued towards the ground, however, as the man shrank and shifted until it resembled an overly large white rabbit in a little gray waistcoat. The chain from one pocket led to a pocket watch pinned to his chest.
“This rabbit?” the cat asked, grin wide and mischievous as it set its head upon the trembling creature.
“Alice…” Bocchan’s voice sounded strained beside her, and she could swear the cat’s smile widened.
Taking a fortifying breath, Alice curtseyed and precisely spoke, “Yes. That is the white rabbit we were looking for. Thank you very much for your assistance, Mr. Cat.” She bent down and reached for the shaking rabbit, face mere inches from the grinning pointed teeth, and picked it up with gentle hands. She cuddled it to her bosom and ran a calming hand along his back. It only took a few seconds before the poor frightened being nuzzled his head into her chest.
“My, what a polite young woman,” the cat purred. “Much better mannered than—"
“It certainly took you both long enough!”
There was a puff of air slightly above them, and Alice turned to see the book spirit had returned, a triumphant smirk on her face and hands on her hips.
“Well now. Who… are you?” the cat inquired as it leapt up into nothing and sat in the air next to the book spirit.
“Cheshire?!” The little girl fumed and stamped her foot. “They were supposed to do this on their own!”
“Do what?” the cat tilted its head.
“Help me!”
“What with?”
“The very same thing you refused to help me with!!” the book spirit screeched.
Cheshire hummed and walked around the spirit before sitting back down. “I've never helped you.”
“Stop with your word games! You know I’m Alice!”
“You’re rather not,” the cat drawled. “Alice hasn’t been a child for over one hundred years, after all.”
It lunged forward and chomped the book spirit’s hand. The little girl screamed and vanished in a flash of light. As Alice tried to process just what she’d seen, Bocchan set a hand at her waist—a scared whisper of her name escaping as he gripped her tightly. Alice blinked. She could feel his touch. Really feel it.
The cat hummed brightly. “Too much reality for a dream to hold, I suppose.”
“Is this a dream?” Alice asked before she could stop herself. The question had been nagging her since they’d arrived, and she could think of no one else to ask.
“A dream?” Cheshire grinned and sauntered over. “Well, you wouldn’t be the first to think so, but what is a dream if not a wish made by the heart and hallucinated by the mind? Perhaps… you merely wished very well.” It chuckled, looked out at the city, and then back at them. “Or perhaps very poorly.”
As it’d spoken, the rabbit had squirmed against her chest. She’d tried to hold tight and reassure him, but he finally squirmed out of her hold. Her hands only snagged the pocket watch chain, which then tore free from the waistcoat pocket as it leaped off. Alice stared down at the golden watch. It was round, cold, and felt very real. Was it a wish and not a dream? Bocchan had touched her, was still—
“Alice… how will we get home? We retrieved the rabbit, but the spirit—Alice!"
It was as Bocchan screamed her name that she realized she could no longer feel his touch. She’d been so caught up in her wonderings that she hadn’t noticed her hands had started to turn ghostly and transparent. The young master’s hands flailed through her, but Alice felt detached from it all. Like a dream. She looked at the cat again.
“It seems,” the cat giggled, “you’ll have to wish a bit harder… Alice.”
Alice stirred, and her eyes fluttered as they adjusted to the view before her. Bocchan. His head lay on the table, an open book between them, and his gloved hand just a finger’s width away from her own. She was back in the villa’s library. It really had all been a dream. Just like all the other trips.
With a sigh, Alice lifted herself off the table to sit up in her chair. The movement caused a weight to fall into her lap, and she noted the shine of gold before Bocchan bolted awake and sat straight up. Alice carefully folded her hands in her lap to cover the mystery item.
“Alice!” he shouted and looked around frantically before spotting her. He let out a relieved sigh. “I got so worried when you faded away, but I guess that was just the cat waking us up.”
She smiled kindly back at him. “It does appear so, your grace.”
He returned her smile, though his gaze dipped lower to her lips, her neck… and stopped at her chest. Alice felt a thrill run through her at gaining his fixed attention, though it was unusual for him to hold it. Curious. A flush smothered his face, and a needy sound escaped him as his hands clenched and his gaze remained steady. The crinkling of pages jolted him out of his stare to look at the open book. He pulled at his collar with his other hand.
"Gee, it’s gotten stuffy in here!” His voice peaked and he laughed as he rubbed his neck before looking at the book. “Between that and the terrible change in the dream world, I think I might need a brisk walk to help clear my head!”
The room felt perfectly temperate to her, and Alice subtly ran a thumb on the hidden item. It was smooth and round. “What an excellent idea, Bocchan. Let’s walk together.”
“No!” he shouted and then cleared his throat. “I uhh, I think I need to walk, umm, alone. If you don’t mind.” He stood, facing away from her, and let out a strained laugh. “But first, I’m going to tuck this book out of reach, as I imagine the spirit won’t let us return. Given we did her task, but we didn’t get our wish.”
Alice hummed, “Yes, I suppose that is a good point.” She watched the young lord tuck the book behind the row of books on the middle shelf nearest them, and her hands inspected the item. It felt rather like a pocket watch.
“Good riddance really. I wouldn’t want to go back to such a terrible dreamscape, would you?” His voice was pitchy again, and he tugged at his collar once more, the tips of his ears a bright red. “Anyway, I shouldn’t be gone too long on my walk! Just fifteen minutes or so, so uhh… no need to come looking for me!” He excused himself, and Alice politely inclined her head in return. Very curious behavior.
Finally alone, she held the hidden item up. It was a pocket watch. A shiny gold one. Brows puckered in consideration, Alice turned the watch around, and her eyes widened upon seeing the etching on the other side. A rabbit in profile. Exactly like the one on the ‘White Rabbit Organization’ building. An echo, discordant and mischievous, whispered in her mind.
“A dream? Well, you wouldn’t be the first to think so, but what is a dream if not a wish made by the heart and hallucinated by the mind? Perhaps… you merely wished very well. Or perhaps very poorly.”
“A wish…” Alice murmured as she ran her finger over the etching. She ruminated on the dream world. The strange realness of the city. The odd behavior of the people, both like and unlike witches. The impossible feats on display. Her wish that when his grace would finally embrace her… she would feel it.
As she stood, Alice hid the watch in her bosom. She’d have to think upon what to do with her wish and just what it would conjure when she did use it. Another dream? Or perhaps something much more real.