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Ten Further Trips Through Wonderland (Trips 71-75)
Ten Further Trips Through Wonderland (Trips 71-75)
Author:AkaiNagi
Rating: G
Pairing: Alice/Tarrant
Summary: Prompts 1-5/10 (Table 8) from![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
10_prompts.
Prompt: Underappreciated
It is a misconception that size is a reflection of ability.
Because when it came to determination, devotion and sheer stubbornness, Mallymkun was a giant.
Alice knew this, which was why she had begged Mallymkun to look after her husband in her absence. The dormouse had tried very hard to resent Alice for abandoning her beloved Hatter. But she, who saw much of what went on in Marmoreal that others missed, had seen Alice’s suffering of the past few months. And as much as she was loath to admit it she agreed with Alice’s decision in principle. Best to do what needed to be done now, so she could get back to the business of being a proper wife and mother as soon as possible. Until then, Mally would see that the remaining members of the Hightopp family were taken care of.
It was Mally who, seeing Tarrant slipping further into his old ways, suggested to the Queen that a nurse be assigned to little Lara, to make sure the child’s needs were taken care of. It was done without delay.
It was Mally who arranged for all his meals to be brought to him, usually in his workshop, for he rarely left it. And it was Mally who sat there with him, encouraging, goading, and sometimes resorting to her hatpin to make eat his meals.
She rarely got thanks for her efforts. More often she got cross words and rudely worded requests to mind her own business. But she would not be dissuaded. For she had made a promise. And despite years of marriage to another, her love for her Hatter was still there. Perhaps in a different way, but she loved him still.
Prompt: First Impression
Anyone’s first impression of Margaret and Lowell’s marriage would be to conclude that theirs was a happy marriage. It was somewhat of an anomaly; a couple married for that long and still childless, but that was in the hands of God, after all, and surely he would grace them in due time.
Alice’s first impression of her sister’s marriage, granted she had the luxury of viewing from the inside, was that it was a sham.
And furthermore, her sister was miserable.
That fact, and of course her mourning for her dear mother, were the two reasons she tarried in the Overworld as long as she did. To provide comfort to her sister, who put up a brave front, but was clearly desperately unhappy, was something her mother would have done, had she been present to do it.
So she listened to her sister with a kind ear and an open heart. She listened when her sister told her of her husband’s late nights and her suspicions of his infidelity. She listened when her sister told her of her grief at mother’s death. How Lowell insisted they take up residence in the family home rather than sell it, even though the familiar reminders in every corner made his wife cry constantly. Margaret told her of how her husband blamed her for their inability to conceive a child even after all these years. This incensed Alice, who could no longer contain herself at this point, and blurted out that if Lowell wasn’t so busy sewing his seeds in the wrong fields he might have more success at home. Margaret had looked at her aghast. Whether it was because she had laid utterance to Margaret’s own suspicions, or because she had used such frank language to do it, Alice didn’t know.
And when Alice suggested that Margaret come with her, seeing how she was so desperately unhappy, back to Underland, where she would be treated with the respect she deserved, and perhaps find someone deserving of her, Alice was met with the expected response. Because Margaret was the practical one, the responsible one, the one who was the very soul of the supposed values of their class. She would not leave Lowell. He was her husband, till death parted them.
So for more than two weeks the sisters commiserated together, gossiped together, remembered their mother together, cried often and laughed not as often. And Alice listened, without judgment and with love.
That would be her last gift to her sister.
Prompt: Disappointed
Alice can tell that Margaret doesn’t believe a word of it. And it causes her heart to ache.
She had warred within herself about whether to even tell her sister the truth. She could have lied. She could have claimed that her new home was in some remote country rather than an entirely separate world. Margaret had never shared Alice’s and their father’s bent towards the fantastical. She had been the practical one. She had been no-nonsense while Alice had been nothing but. In the end she decides on a heavily edited truth.
So Alice tells her tale, conveniently omitting most of the revolution and certainly any mention of jabberwocky slaying. She tells her sister of her life in the palace at Marmoreal, she tells Margaret much about Tarrant and Lara, trying to downplay the presence of talking animals and flora. She tells her of the beauty of the countryside, also omitting the fact that she often views it from the back of a bandersnatch named Lady Ascot. All things considered, Alice probably omits far more than she reveals.
And when her sister smiles and nods in all the right places, Alice can tell that true belief is not there. She does not blame her sister in any way for it. This is just the way she is made. Alice is just gratified that her sister doesn’t start calling up sanitariums, telling them to come pick up her loony sibling.
No, Margaret does not understand, is unable to wrap her mind around the very fantastical concepts that Alice is asking her to believe. Alice can tell, however, that her sister wants to believe. Wants to believe that her little sister has found happiness and love even if she had to go to a whole new world to find it.
And for Alice, that will have to be enough.
Prompt: Last Goodbye
It was overcast and dismal on the morning they said their last goodbyes.
The goodbye really started the evening before, when Alice told Margaret that she had decided tomorrow was the day she would return home. Margaret tried to talk her out of it, of course. Asking her to delay a few weeks, then a few days. Surely, Margaret told her, her husband would not begrudge her a longer visit with her sister, more time to mourn their mother.
Margaret was loath to lose her baby sister so soon after finding her again. In Alice she had found the confidante that she had always wanted, now that her sister was mature enough to understand the trials and hardships of the adult world.
In begging her to stay, however, she felt the sharp pangs of guilt. While she wasn’t sure how much of Alice’s story she believed, it was clear that when she talked of her husband and child that they were real and she missed them terribly. That was why, when Alice insisted she must leave tomorrow, Margaret didn’t press the issue of her staying too much. When Alice politely declined to stay longer, and asked simply for a ride to the Ascot’s estate the next morning, Margaret agreed, and let the issue rest.
The ride to the Ascot’s had been a tense one. Margaret tried her best not to show how desperately she wanted her sister to stay by her side. She felt like she was losing the last of her family. But wasn’t it selfish of her? Selfish to try to keep Alice with her simply because she was lonely and needed someone to be with now that her own husband barely paid her the time of day? The conflict raged within her.
It broke lose at the last minute. She could stand it no longer. As Alice told the driver to stop just at the entrance to the grounds of the Ascot estate, Margaret knew she was probably seeing her sister for the last time. She grabbed her by the hand and begged her, tears in her eyes, to stay with her. She knew she was being selfish. But in that single moment her need outweighed her propriety.
Alice started to cry as well. And Margaret knew she would be haunted by those tear-filled eyes for years to come. When Alice wrenched their hands apart and fled, Margaret continued to call out, hoping against hope. It couldn’t end like this. Fate and God would not be so cruel as to make this the last memory she had of her sister; her tear filled-eyes and her retreating back as she ran off to god knew where. A magical world or the madness of her own mind.
Margaret was still crying, still calling her sister’s name, long after Alice became a faint shape among the trees, and finally disappeared.
Prompt: Serenity
She makes her way through the fringes of the Ascot estate with turmoil in her heart.
Her sister had made the carriage trip with her, one that dropped her off just out of sight of the manor house. Alice preferred not to have to explain herself to any of the Ascots in person. And indeed it would require a lot of explaining.
Despite everything, despite the fact that Alice had made her determination to return home clear, her sister had made one more desperate effort to get her sister to stay. Alice was saddened by it. She had hoped they could say goodbye in a loving and peaceful way, but apparently that was not to be. Margaret, tears in her eyes, had begged her to stay, had held her by the hands and refused to let go. She had cried. In the end, crying herself, Alice had to wrench herself free and run, crying even harder as her sister called after her, begging her to come back. But she cannot go back. She has a home waiting for her. A husband and a child and a whole world waiting for her.
It takes her a while to find the right place. And during her search, something strange happens. The turmoil caused by the ugly scene in the carriage begins to fade. A gradual calm descends. She does not doubt for a second that she will find the portal home, and that it will indeed bring her home. In fact, in her mind’s eye, she can almost see McTwisp, with his perfectly starched waistcoat and his pocket watch leading the way.
She moves confidently through the tangle of the forest, slowly and surely. And when she comes upon that familiar tree, with its familiar gaping hole, the tears come again, this time of happiness.
She wastes no time. She steps off the edge and she is falling, surrounded by fantastical yet familiar things. And as the falls, unlike the panic of before, her heart is filled with a serene happiness. A joy that bubbles inside at the thought of seeing her husband and daughter again.
She is going home.
Author:AkaiNagi
Rating: G
Pairing: Alice/Tarrant
Summary: Prompts 1-5/10 (Table 8) from
10_prompts.Prompt: Underappreciated
It is a misconception that size is a reflection of ability.
Because when it came to determination, devotion and sheer stubbornness, Mallymkun was a giant.
Alice knew this, which was why she had begged Mallymkun to look after her husband in her absence. The dormouse had tried very hard to resent Alice for abandoning her beloved Hatter. But she, who saw much of what went on in Marmoreal that others missed, had seen Alice’s suffering of the past few months. And as much as she was loath to admit it she agreed with Alice’s decision in principle. Best to do what needed to be done now, so she could get back to the business of being a proper wife and mother as soon as possible. Until then, Mally would see that the remaining members of the Hightopp family were taken care of.
It was Mally who, seeing Tarrant slipping further into his old ways, suggested to the Queen that a nurse be assigned to little Lara, to make sure the child’s needs were taken care of. It was done without delay.
It was Mally who arranged for all his meals to be brought to him, usually in his workshop, for he rarely left it. And it was Mally who sat there with him, encouraging, goading, and sometimes resorting to her hatpin to make eat his meals.
She rarely got thanks for her efforts. More often she got cross words and rudely worded requests to mind her own business. But she would not be dissuaded. For she had made a promise. And despite years of marriage to another, her love for her Hatter was still there. Perhaps in a different way, but she loved him still.
Prompt: First Impression
Anyone’s first impression of Margaret and Lowell’s marriage would be to conclude that theirs was a happy marriage. It was somewhat of an anomaly; a couple married for that long and still childless, but that was in the hands of God, after all, and surely he would grace them in due time.
Alice’s first impression of her sister’s marriage, granted she had the luxury of viewing from the inside, was that it was a sham.
And furthermore, her sister was miserable.
That fact, and of course her mourning for her dear mother, were the two reasons she tarried in the Overworld as long as she did. To provide comfort to her sister, who put up a brave front, but was clearly desperately unhappy, was something her mother would have done, had she been present to do it.
So she listened to her sister with a kind ear and an open heart. She listened when her sister told her of her husband’s late nights and her suspicions of his infidelity. She listened when her sister told her of her grief at mother’s death. How Lowell insisted they take up residence in the family home rather than sell it, even though the familiar reminders in every corner made his wife cry constantly. Margaret told her of how her husband blamed her for their inability to conceive a child even after all these years. This incensed Alice, who could no longer contain herself at this point, and blurted out that if Lowell wasn’t so busy sewing his seeds in the wrong fields he might have more success at home. Margaret had looked at her aghast. Whether it was because she had laid utterance to Margaret’s own suspicions, or because she had used such frank language to do it, Alice didn’t know.
And when Alice suggested that Margaret come with her, seeing how she was so desperately unhappy, back to Underland, where she would be treated with the respect she deserved, and perhaps find someone deserving of her, Alice was met with the expected response. Because Margaret was the practical one, the responsible one, the one who was the very soul of the supposed values of their class. She would not leave Lowell. He was her husband, till death parted them.
So for more than two weeks the sisters commiserated together, gossiped together, remembered their mother together, cried often and laughed not as often. And Alice listened, without judgment and with love.
That would be her last gift to her sister.
Prompt: Disappointed
Alice can tell that Margaret doesn’t believe a word of it. And it causes her heart to ache.
She had warred within herself about whether to even tell her sister the truth. She could have lied. She could have claimed that her new home was in some remote country rather than an entirely separate world. Margaret had never shared Alice’s and their father’s bent towards the fantastical. She had been the practical one. She had been no-nonsense while Alice had been nothing but. In the end she decides on a heavily edited truth.
So Alice tells her tale, conveniently omitting most of the revolution and certainly any mention of jabberwocky slaying. She tells her sister of her life in the palace at Marmoreal, she tells Margaret much about Tarrant and Lara, trying to downplay the presence of talking animals and flora. She tells her of the beauty of the countryside, also omitting the fact that she often views it from the back of a bandersnatch named Lady Ascot. All things considered, Alice probably omits far more than she reveals.
And when her sister smiles and nods in all the right places, Alice can tell that true belief is not there. She does not blame her sister in any way for it. This is just the way she is made. Alice is just gratified that her sister doesn’t start calling up sanitariums, telling them to come pick up her loony sibling.
No, Margaret does not understand, is unable to wrap her mind around the very fantastical concepts that Alice is asking her to believe. Alice can tell, however, that her sister wants to believe. Wants to believe that her little sister has found happiness and love even if she had to go to a whole new world to find it.
And for Alice, that will have to be enough.
Prompt: Last Goodbye
It was overcast and dismal on the morning they said their last goodbyes.
The goodbye really started the evening before, when Alice told Margaret that she had decided tomorrow was the day she would return home. Margaret tried to talk her out of it, of course. Asking her to delay a few weeks, then a few days. Surely, Margaret told her, her husband would not begrudge her a longer visit with her sister, more time to mourn their mother.
Margaret was loath to lose her baby sister so soon after finding her again. In Alice she had found the confidante that she had always wanted, now that her sister was mature enough to understand the trials and hardships of the adult world.
In begging her to stay, however, she felt the sharp pangs of guilt. While she wasn’t sure how much of Alice’s story she believed, it was clear that when she talked of her husband and child that they were real and she missed them terribly. That was why, when Alice insisted she must leave tomorrow, Margaret didn’t press the issue of her staying too much. When Alice politely declined to stay longer, and asked simply for a ride to the Ascot’s estate the next morning, Margaret agreed, and let the issue rest.
The ride to the Ascot’s had been a tense one. Margaret tried her best not to show how desperately she wanted her sister to stay by her side. She felt like she was losing the last of her family. But wasn’t it selfish of her? Selfish to try to keep Alice with her simply because she was lonely and needed someone to be with now that her own husband barely paid her the time of day? The conflict raged within her.
It broke lose at the last minute. She could stand it no longer. As Alice told the driver to stop just at the entrance to the grounds of the Ascot estate, Margaret knew she was probably seeing her sister for the last time. She grabbed her by the hand and begged her, tears in her eyes, to stay with her. She knew she was being selfish. But in that single moment her need outweighed her propriety.
Alice started to cry as well. And Margaret knew she would be haunted by those tear-filled eyes for years to come. When Alice wrenched their hands apart and fled, Margaret continued to call out, hoping against hope. It couldn’t end like this. Fate and God would not be so cruel as to make this the last memory she had of her sister; her tear filled-eyes and her retreating back as she ran off to god knew where. A magical world or the madness of her own mind.
Margaret was still crying, still calling her sister’s name, long after Alice became a faint shape among the trees, and finally disappeared.
Prompt: Serenity
She makes her way through the fringes of the Ascot estate with turmoil in her heart.
Her sister had made the carriage trip with her, one that dropped her off just out of sight of the manor house. Alice preferred not to have to explain herself to any of the Ascots in person. And indeed it would require a lot of explaining.
Despite everything, despite the fact that Alice had made her determination to return home clear, her sister had made one more desperate effort to get her sister to stay. Alice was saddened by it. She had hoped they could say goodbye in a loving and peaceful way, but apparently that was not to be. Margaret, tears in her eyes, had begged her to stay, had held her by the hands and refused to let go. She had cried. In the end, crying herself, Alice had to wrench herself free and run, crying even harder as her sister called after her, begging her to come back. But she cannot go back. She has a home waiting for her. A husband and a child and a whole world waiting for her.
It takes her a while to find the right place. And during her search, something strange happens. The turmoil caused by the ugly scene in the carriage begins to fade. A gradual calm descends. She does not doubt for a second that she will find the portal home, and that it will indeed bring her home. In fact, in her mind’s eye, she can almost see McTwisp, with his perfectly starched waistcoat and his pocket watch leading the way.
She moves confidently through the tangle of the forest, slowly and surely. And when she comes upon that familiar tree, with its familiar gaping hole, the tears come again, this time of happiness.
She wastes no time. She steps off the edge and she is falling, surrounded by fantastical yet familiar things. And as the falls, unlike the panic of before, her heart is filled with a serene happiness. A joy that bubbles inside at the thought of seeing her husband and daughter again.
She is going home.