Ten Plus Trips Through Wonderland
Ten Plus Trips Through Wonderland (Trips 81-90)Author:AkaiNagi
Rating: G
Pairing: Alice/Tarrant
Summary: Prompts 1-5/10 (Table 9) from
Prompt: Haven
The first time Alice caught sight of the Palace at Marmoreal, she thought it had a divine presence about it. The shining white spires, after the dark and blood-red presence of the Red Queen’s Palace, made it seem like a veritable haven. And for the creatures of Underland, she supposed it was a haven. One where they could be treated with love and respect instead of as croquet mallets and footstools.
The night before the Frabjous day, she felt it to be a prison. A beautiful prison, a prison without bars, but a prison nonetheless. She could not leave. And on the morrow she would be asked to perhaps forfeit her life. It would be for a grand cause, but the result would be the same. She could never win a fight against as great a beast as the Jabberwocky. She was no champion.
Returning from the Tulgey wood, after defeating the Jabberwocky, hailed as a champion, the Palace seemed to Alice to be warm and welcoming. A place for her to rest her weary body and overwhelmed mind. And as she retired that night, in the rooms directly next to Tarrant’s (she would have to question the Queen about that), she thought about the choice she had made that day. As she lay in her bed, her covers wrapped snugly around her, she shed tears for the mother and sister she would not see again.
It took time. It took many cups of tea with Tarrant, it took many lessons with McTwisp, it took many arguments with Mallymkun, it took many conversations with the flowers. It took many bandersnatch rides until one day, returning from one such ride, she realized she was not returning to the Palace.
She was returning home.
Prompt: Lessons
Alice could tell that McTwisp did not relish his role as tutor, especially to one as easily distracted as she. But the Queen had ordered that her newest advisor be instructed in the history and laws of Underland, and in her great wisdom the Queen had picked him to do it.
Alice, for one, did not relish her role as student. It was not that she didn’t want to learn about her new home, but it was so hard to sit there and listen to boring lectures when there was a whole world out there to explore. She remembered saying much the same thing to her governess when she had been ten years old. She had earned herself a rap on the knuckles with a ruler. She had always been one who wanted to go out and experience her own life, rather than sit at a desk and learn about other people’s, most of whom died long before she was born.
Poor McTwisp was so frustrated at her inattentiveness that one day he threw up his paws and assigned her to simply read the material on her own, because certainly no amount of teaching on his part was doing a whit of good.
The newly liberated Alice promptly took her books outside and attempted to study there. But when the warmth of the sun and peacefulness of the landscape caused her to nearly fall asleep, she relocated herself to Tarrant’s workshop.
Did he mind, she asked, if she studied while he plied his trade? The Hatter replied that he would be rather delighted with the company. And so Alice read while he worked, once in a while asking him about something she read in her books. Tarrant, despite his mad streak, proved to be well versed in Underland’s history and proved a font of insight.
The next day McTwisp was so impressed by her progress that he proposed to continue in this fashion; allowing her to engage in self-study with periodic check-ins by himself. Alice was relieved beyond measure.
She told Tarrant as much when she went to his workshop that day.
“If I had to endure one more day of lecture, I should have gone half-mad,” she said vehemently.
“I thought you already were half-mad?” Tarrant asked with a knowing smile.
“Well the other half then.”
Prompt: Hold
His instinct had been to hold on to her, to grab on with both hands and to never let go.
It had been hard to let her go back to her own world. Tarrant didn’t think Alice would ever comprehend how hard it had been. But he had let her go, knowing that to hold her back would cause resentment to fester between them. And how could he chain her down, when her fire and free spirit were two of the things he loved most about her?
When she returned so belatedly, and after much suffering on his part, his instinct again was to hold her close. But again, he knew he mustn’t impinge on her freedom. So he waited patiently as she gallivanted around the countryside on Lady Ascot, re-familiarizing herself with her world, even though every time he watched her leave the palace grounds it caused him a twinge of anxiety.
She had come back to him, he reminded himself every time he felt the urge to wrap her in cotton wool to keep her safe and never let go. She had crossed worlds to come back to him and their life together. He reminded himself of how she had looked at him upon her return; like she had been dying of thirst and he was the water. And at the end of every day, when she was with him again, a little piece of his heart healed from the hurt of her absence.
Prompt: Rebirth
She sought out the Palace’s head gardener, a mole named, aptly, Greenwick. He was a pleasant, nearly blind fellow clad in overalls. His impairment did not adversely affect his livelihood, obviously, as Marmoreal’s gardens were an aesthetic splendor.
She came to him humbly, respectfully, telling him of her plight and her most fervent hope that he, among all creatures, could help her. Alice told him how highly the queen had spoken of his skill. The gardener fell easily before such flattery. It would be an easy thing to procure, he told her. He could even plant it for her in any part of the grounds she liked.
Alice thanked him profusely, but assured him that bringing her the item was enough. She would plant it herself.
And so it was that the next morning, wearing a pair of her husband’s old trousers, rolled up at the cuff and cinched at the waist, and an old shirt, she took herself to plant a tree. Greenwick had the sapling ready as promised, and, aghast at her attire, offered again to do the honors. Alice again thanked him, but declined. This, if it were to have any meaning at all, should be done by her hands.
It took her most of the morning to dig the hole, push and pull and twist the sapling until it fell into place, and then cover the base again with dirt. By the time she was done she was panting and sweating in the summer heat. Not content yet, she then took several bucketfuls of water and poured it around the tree, just in case it was thirsty in its new home.
She sat on the ground for a while, resting and taking in the sight of her handiwork. A fledgling willow tree now stood where once there was nothing.
Willows had been her mother’s favorite. She had loved the gracefulness of their hanging branches, the melancholy nature with which they wafted in a gentle breeze.
She would never see her mother’s grave again. Of this she was certain. But now she had somewhere to remember her. Somewhere she could bring Lara to tell her about her grandmother and grandfather from the other side. New life would grow, to commemorate the old.
Prompt: Perception
Of all those at Marmoreal, excepting her husband and child, probably the creature most elated at Alice’s return was Lady Ascot the Bandersnatch. When the creature first caught sight of her mistress, Lady let out a great bellow and proceeded to cover Alice with wet, slobbery kisses. She left her mistress slightly moist, thoroughly disheveled and laughing with delight. Lady thought her heart would burst with love for her mistress when Alice threw her arms around the animal’s furry neck and hugged for all she was worth. Lady had hoped Alice would take her for a run right then and there, but she did not, leaving the bandersnatch slightly disappointed, but still happy.
The next morning, however, Alice arrived, as was her custom, and the two went for a grand run. They ran through woods and fields, upsetting the flowers and sending all manner of creatures scrambling in their wake.
It was on the edge of the Tulgey wood that, amid all the other smells, Lady singled one out that was particularly odious. It was an old smell, a mean smell, a bloody smell, one that Lady could not quite put her paw on. But it clearly was not one that she wanted herself or her Alice exposed to, so she steered clear, giving the smell a wide berth. To the bandersnatch’s relief, the smell faded into the distance, replaced by other, far more pleasant smells.
She hoped she never smelt that particular smell again.
Prompt: Double
Thackery was never so flattered as when Alice had told him that he made the best tea in two worlds.
Most people, he knew, wrote him off as the mad cook. Thrower of pots and pans and tea trays. Just the shortsighted attitude he would expect out of people who were late for tea.
But Alice, bless her heart, was always on time, sometimes with little Lara toddling in tow. He had been known to slip the wee bairn a treat or two when the watchful eye of her mother wandered elsewhere.
Thackery was the one who noticed, when no one else save her husband had noticed, that she had lost weight during her absence from Marmoreal to the other world. So he made sure that she had extra cakes on her tea tray each day.
It would not do to see his oldest friend’s wife waste away, he thought. Not after witnessing the miracle she had practiced on the Hatter; turning him from a mad, angry, volatile and solitary soul to a still half-mad, but content and companionable one.
He was grateful to her for the change she had wrought in the Hatter, for the peace she had brought him.
Such a thing was worth a thousand teacakes.
Prompt: Carry you
She was Alice. He would recognize that tangled mass of curls anywhere. On the outside, she was unquestionably Alice.
But on the inside, she was not quite.
He could tell by the way she shrank away from all talk of jabberwockies and slaying, adamant that she was not the Alice of legend. No matter that she looked exactly like the figure in the Oraculum, no matter that she carried the same name as their champion. She remained steadfastly obtuse in her mindset.
No, she was not quite the right Alice, not quite the Alice of his memory, not quite the Alice she needed to be.
But as he carried her, perched on the brim of his hat, away from the Outlands and towards Marmoreal, he reminded himself that all things were possible. She may not have her muchness, she might not believe in slaying or jabberwockies, she may believe she was travelling through a land of dreams.
She might not be the right Alice.
But perhaps, with help, she could become her.
Prompt: Blindsided
Alice remembered the exact moment she realized she was in love with Tarrant Hightopp.
I had hit her like a terrible revelation, during her flight from Salazen Grum. She was clutching to the back of the bandersnatch, racing towards Marmoreal, a maddening litany repeating itself in her head:
I left him. I left him. I left him. I left him …
He was going to die. He was going to be executed. And she had just left him.
He had protected her from the very start. Perhaps he was doing it because he still thought her to be Underland’s champion. She didn’t care why. The point was, he had. He had entrusted her with the story of his past, and now he entrusted her with saving his world.
Earlier this very same day she had been with him. Had held his face in her hands; had looked deep into his eyes and saw the pain there. She wanted to see his pain eased; his suffering ended. It wasn’t until now that she realized that she wanted to be the one to bring him that peace. Herself and no one else. Because she loved him. Was in love with him.
But she would never get the chance to try and bring him that peace. Because he would likely not live past the morrow. Her love would die. And he would never know.
Her tears blew away with the wind, as she raced towards Marmoreal, and away from Salazen Grum.
Prompt: Never Again
All Alice could think in the immediate moments following the slaying of the Jabberwocky was that she had done the impossible. Her sixth impossible thing. Her blood raced through her veins and her heart pounded with exhilaration.
She descended the stairs in time to see the crown being placed on its rightful head, courtesy of the Cheshire Cat. Alice’s heart was glad. From what little she had seen of Mirana, it was clear that she was the very soul of kindness. She would be good to Underland and its denizens. Unlike her vile sister.
The very last of Alice’s high drained out of her at the thought of the former Red Queen. What was to be done with her? Was there any punishment severe enough for what she had done? Alice remembered Salazen Grum’s lake of bloody heads and wondered.
The newly crowned White Queen drew herself up, her bearing regal and confident. And for the first time Alice heard the woman speak not in her gentle dulcet tones, but rather in a voice that was hard and cold.
“Iracebeth of Crims, your crimes against Underland are worthy of death,” she said, advancing on her now powerless sister. “However, that is against my vows. Therefore you are banished to the Outlands. No one is to show you any kindness or speak a word to you. You will have not a friend in the world.”
Alice was impressed. The Queen had devised a fitting punishment for her sister who lived of the toadying and suffering of others. To be alone in the world would be hell for one such as her.
Alice watched Stayne’s pathetic attempt to curry favor with the new queen. The man was without shame, to be sure. Alice remembered the way she had accosted her in the halls of the Red Queen’s Palace. How he had tried to touch her, kiss her. She remembered the revulsion she had felt. She remembered, through the retelling of it, his part in the slaughter of the Hightopp clan, the Hatters family. He deserved punishment just as much as his former queen.
She watched with satisfaction as judgment was passed on him also: banishment. He would spend the rest of his days chained to the woman he formerly served. Also a truly fitting punishment.
It was with shock and, to her infinite surprise, a twinge of pity that she witnessed Stayne try to kill Iracebeth, an attempt foiled by the Hatter. She watched him beg for the mercy of a quick death, rather than a life chained to a woman that it was now clear he felt nothing but revulsion for. To be chained for the rest of your days to someone who hated you enough to kill you. In the end, perhaps death would have been more merciful for the both of them.
She watched as they were dragged away, the former Red Queen’s screams still echoing as they were taken, no doubt, to be deposited in the outlands.
It was over. The crown was in its rightful place, the slaying was accomplished, and never again would the Tyrant Red Queen visit her wrath down on the creatures of Underland. And never again would Alice have to see the pair that had hunted her, would have killed her, had nearly killed those dear to her. The pair that had caused her friends so much suffering.
She would never lay eyes on them again.
Prompt: Commit
Tarrant Hightop was having commitment issues.
Every time he set to making his wife an anniversary gift, he came down with a case of chronic indecisiveness. He had given her gifts of hats; he had given her gifts of dresses. Last year he had even made her a special suit for riding, complete with trousers so she could swan about the countryside unhindered by troublesome skirts.
He had set to making her gift several times, only to decide partway through that it just wasn’t right, so he would scrap it and start over again. When it came to his trade, and when it came to gifts for his wife, he was the very soul of perfectionism. And he was rapidly running out of time.
He was almost on the verge of giving up in despair, when a comment from Alice lit the fires of his inspiration. She had come in, not flush with her usual post-ride exhilaration, but rather distressed and sad. She explained that Lady Ascot had cut her paw on a sharp rock and Alice, being her dear sensitive self, felt horribly guilty and was quite at a loss. Tarrant suggested she go to Queen Mirana. Surely the queen, being so accomplished in the healing arts, could do something for the bandersnatch’s discomfort.
Alice immediately pronounced him brilliant, kissed him soundly, and went to seek out the Queen, totally unaware that she had solved both her own and her husband’s dilemma in a single stroke.
That’s how Alice’s anniversary gift came to not really be for Alice at all.
Come the anniversary, proudly but with little fanfare, Tarrant presented his wife with a finely worked, intricately embroidered bandersnatch collar. It was quite large, of course, being made for a fully-grown bandersnatch neck. It was embroidered with dozens of little hats, so she would think of him during her rides about the countryside. And in great letters, in fine silver thread was wrought the name:
Lady Ascot