Madness of the Hatter

The grass in the clearing had dried and faded from green to brown. No one walked barefoot for fear the blades would cut their feet. A long rectangular table with high-backed chairs stood in front of a stagnant pond.

Hedges bordered the clearing to the east. Unlike the rest of the vegetation, their leaves were a vibrant green. A forest curved around the meadow to the north.

A wooden ramp wound around the tree to the top, where only the Invitees lived in the Tea House, because they were invited. The Hoi Polloi lived on the ground near the koi, as was only fitting.

Lanterns hung on the tree to light the way. There were more lanterns than tea leaves, and soon no one would have anything to read.

In the loft, the Invitees awaited. The pair of Tweedle-Comma-Ds, the March Hare, and the Dormouse. No one remembered inviting the Dormouse, but someone must have, because she was here, and no one remembered not inviting her, either. She slept through everything, anyway.

It was hard to keep track of how many Alices there had been. There was the current one, always called This Alice, who was never the Right Alice, which meant they always had to wait for the Next Alice. This Alice had already been This Alice, and not the Right Alice, and the Next Alice -- twice.

The March Hare opened the door, but he was so big, he was like a door himself, if doors wore black leather, and had black hair and eyes. He took one look at the Alice, whichever Alice she was, and rolled his eyes as he stepped aside. Harlan didn't like any of the Alices -- once or twice.

The Tweedle-Comma-Ds sat at the kitchen table eating cake. Maybe it was an un-birthday cake. This Twice This Alice could be younger already.

And how many times had he told the Tweedle-Comma-Ds to wear shirts at the table? No one wanted to see all those muscles and tattoos. With as often as they lost their shirts, they should be finding the things all over the place.

He had told them to wear shirts, hadn't he? Well, if he hadn't, he'd meant to, and it was the thought that counted, wasn't it? Or perhaps only meaning to tell them made the thought an intention that would lead them to Hell.

Maybe the Tweedle-Comma-Ds should just not wear shirts.

Had he had that discussion before?

"Her room is set up." Tweedle-Comma-Deegan jabbed a finger at the hall.

Glad the issue with shirts, or lack of them, was settled, Hatter carried the Twice This Alice down the hallway and into the room they saved for all the Alices.

It was pink and girlish, with a canopy bed and a round table with several chairs. The Twice This Alice might not like it. He lay her on the bed. She looked like she'd swallowed a Drink Me potion that made her big.

The Tweedle-Comma-Ds followed him, lingering in the doorway.

Hatter slid Alix's jacket off her arms. Something thunked to the floor. A folding knife. He went through her pockets, eyebrows raising as he lined up everything he found on the table. The Twice This Alice had more weapons than him. She was fierce and required careful monitoring, or she might actually kill one of them. He took off her boots and searched her for any other surprises

Running his hands over her body woke his lust once more. He wasn't so far gone he would force himself on her, especially unconscious. Besides, she seemed willing enough when she was awake.

"Watch her. Keep her safe."

The twins exchanged dubious looks, but nodded. They could do little against the biggest danger to her.

Tweedle-Comma-Deegan picked up a cuff attached to a chain bolted to the floor and clicked it shut around the Twice This Alice's ankle.

Alix wouldn't like it, but Wonderland wasn't what it used to be. She couldn't recognize the dangers outside the Tea House. Or even the ones in it.

Weary, Hatter sank into a chair. He pulled a flask from his inner coat pocket, took a swig of whiskey, and leaned his head back, closing his eyes.

"This Little isn't as... little as I expected," Tweedle-Comma-Duman said.

"She is the Twice This Alice."

Duman blinked. "Never had one of those before."

Hatter had used way too much magic, and whatever had happened between him and Alix left him drained. He needed sleep, and as much as he wanted to keep touching Alix, he had the sense he'd sleep too deeply close to her.

Standing, he swept Alix's collection of weapons into his hat. "Don't touch her."

"Is that a rule?" Tweedle-Comma-Duman frowned.

His twin frowned. "I don't think we have rules for the Littles."

The twins ogled Alix. "Of course, all the Littles were... little, before."

"Don't fuck her." He needed Alix to save him.

The Hoi Polloi women threw themselves at the twins all the time. They got enough attention. He didn't need them distracting Alix.

The twins exchanged another look. "That sounds like a rule," they chorused.