A/N: Two in one night! Go me. None of multi-chapters but MEH!

"The Lady Ascot." The announcer called to the crowded ballroom and Alice felt her mouth go dry. Who was Lady Ascot? Why were they all looking at her? There were so many people. So many women fitted into tightly boned corsets, all in pastels and creams. The men were tall, mustached and all staring at her.

"The Lord Ascot." The voice jolted her out of her reverie and felt an arm loop through hers. She looked up to a crooked smile, pasty face and a shock of bright ginger hair. He all but dragged her to the front stage where they bowed, Alice was on autopilot and curtseyed low to the crowd.

Everything passed in a blur, in a haze of benign smiles and polite talk. Alice was kept by Hamish's side even through dinner. She barely remembered the softly spoken words of the man next to her. It wasn't until she was parted for the separate evening entertainments. Where the men would talk business and the woman would talk fashion.

Alice felt adrift and confused, her eyes staring but not seeing. Until she was anchored by another arm.

"Alice." The voice was familiar. She turned her head in surprise as the familiarity kicked in.

"Margaret." She was delighted to see her sister. But it wasn't until she saw the tired lines around her sister's eyes and the emptiness behind them that Alice feel ill.

"You look confused sister? How are the children?" Margaret gestured for her younger sister to sit on the chaise beside her and looked attentively at her.

Children, what children? She looked down at her body, feeling her stomach roll with apprehension and saw, beneath the fabric the signs of age and motherhood taking its tolls on her body.

"Alice? Are you having one of your turns again? I thought Hamish said you had the best doctors?" Margaret took her hand in hers. It was cold to the touch. Her fingers dry.

"How about you Margaret?" Alice did not know what to say, desperately searching her cloudy memory for her children. How could she have forgotten her children?

"I am well enough Alice." Margaret said cautiously, following her sister's diversion. Alice sensed she was treating her delicately but bypassed it. This wasn't her life.

"The family?" Alice said desperately as she took tea from a passing servant.

"You know the situation with Lowell." Margaret said heavily, drawn away from Alice's behaviour into her own melancholy. Alice paused for a moment and realised the tiredness was by that miserable bastard. She had warned him. Before she went back to Wonderland.

She went back to wonderland.

Didn't she?

The world seemed so real. It was as if she was wearing a restricting corset, the air was being deprived from her brain. That must be it. Wait Margaret was talking again.

"The scoundrel is in Paris at the moment, while I am left with Humphrey, Georgia and a squalling Maria." She took a deep drag of a silver hipflask that she had removed furtively. "I cannot cope with being Mrs Manchester anymore." She scowled at the tea in the fine china. "At least you got this place to hide from your husband. Mine just flees the country every time a woman shows up on the doorstep with another brat of his." She scowled and Alice withdrew into herself in horror.

"Ah Alice." A voice boomed around the room and all turned to see a ginger gentleman with receding hair. "Do you mind if I steal her Margaret?" Her sister did not get a chance to answer as Hamish hauled Alice up and led her from the room. "One moment please esteemed guests." The pair left in a rush of hushed whispers. "Where's your head Alice. Everyone has said you do not seem yourself. I knew it was too early to rush you." He huffed and looked critically at the woman before him.

"Hamish I…" Alice paused, the words, his name tasted foreign in her mouth.

"Alice. Alice. Alice. Alice. Alice. Alice. Alice. Alice. Alice. Alice." The voice made her pause. It was changing, it was no longer the rich, snotty, aristocratic voice but softened into a burr. A Scottish burr she knows and loves. "Alice love." It was drenched in worry and calloused fingers were stroking over her cheek.

"Hatter." She breathed as her eyes opened with difficulty. "Hatter." She sighs again as she focuses on the outline of Tarrant. Her Tarrant.

Sensing her mood, Tarrant pulled her tighter into his embrace and pressed his lips to her head.

"I thought the bad dreams had all gone love." His voice was still that of a husky Scot.

"Not this one." She burrows deeper and feels the heat of his body reminding her that this is real.

"They're only dreams Alice." He hummed.

"For me you were once a dream." She reminds him and finds a patch of bare chest beneath the loose linen shirt he wears for bed. Baring his collar bone she presses her lips to it.

"Am I more than an illusion now?" His fingers draw over the shell of her ear, eliciting goose bumps.

"Always." Alice smiles up at Tarrant, kissing him deeply.