Aw, some were guilt-tripped into actually reviewing. That's so sweet of you, really. However, there were also some of you who probably saw past my guilt trip scheme and refused to review just to spite me. And then there were others who probably just didn't have the time to review. Hey, that's fair, I understand, I just hope we can all still be friends.

If any were confused, I won't be leaving for Florida until Friday. Then I won't update for a week. For those who misunderstood and thought I wouldn't be updating for another week at the time I posted my third chapter, I hope you're pleasantly surprised.

Lastly, a special amount of love going out to Veritas Found for introducing me to my new favourite word: Adorkable. Oh Lord, was there ever a more perfect word used to describe how I see Tarrant? Thank you very much, your review made my day.

Please enjoy the fourth chapter everybody!

Chapter 4

The Otherland Ball

By Aurorawing

This was silly.

Within the past hour Alice had shared only two dances with Laurence, yet she was subjected to his biography and accomplishments, learned of his most charming personality traits, and had been hinted to about how much money he would inherit once he became the next Right Honourable Earl. It would seem that Lord Glaswell's heir was very full of himself; however, it was not he who went into such gruesome detail about his life, but his grandfather.

"He studied at Oxford, you know," Lord Glaswell went on, "Top of his class, too…"

Laurence's face strained as his grandfather continued talking. He had been forced to stand there and endure his grandfather's incessant praises for just as long as Alice had. She could tell by the end of the first dance they shared that he wasn't interested in her (and she in him), but propriety and fear kept Laurence's feet glued to the floor. Who knew how Lord Glaswell would react if Laurence were to simply say he didn't like her?

Alice just felt embarrassed at this point. She felt deeply sorry for Laurence, but she was also mortified that she was yet again trapped by a matchmaking service she didn't sign up for. Was it so horrible to choose who one wanted to marry on one's own?

"Mother, there you are."

Lord Glaswell stopped talking as Margaret approached with a bitter-faced Lowell in tow. She bent down and gave her mother's cheek a kiss as Lowell exchanged pleasantries with Lord Glaswell.

Alice looked over hopefully at her sister. Margaret's eyes caught hers for a second before she turned away and continued chatting with their mother.

Alice frowned. Margaret was still upset with her. Alice slumped in her chair. Now who needed to grow up? Honestly, Margaret yelled at Alice and even pinched her, yet Alice was more than willing to let bygones be bygones. Margaret usually didn't hold grudges like this…

She sat herself in an open chair by their mother and continued to ignore Alice to the best of her ability. Lowell stooped down to his wife's ear and murmured just loud enough for Alice to hear, "I'm going off to greet my friends and the Ascot's. Stay here."

Margaret's eyes grew wide and she grabbed her husband's arm, "Please don't."

"Stop that," Lowell ordered, ripping his sleeve out of her grasp, "Just stay here."

Margaret reluctantly nodded. Lowell left and to Alice's shock Margaret began to quietly cry.

"Margaret! What's wrong?" their mother asked, leaning over to her.

Alice wanted to know as well. Lady Ascot's jibe against her marriage was cruel, but not that bad. Margaret surely would've gotten over it by now. No, this was something different.

"As I was saying, Miss Kingsleigh, Laurence here graduated at the top of his class!" Lord Glaswell declared, tearing Alice's attention away from her sister.

"Miss Kingsleigh, might I ask you for this dance?" Laurence interjected desperately, capping his grandfather's spiel. This was the second time Laurence requested Alice to dance with him simply to rid himself of Lord Glaswell's ceaseless yammering. In all honesty, she didn't blame him.

Alice turned to check on Margaret and her mother. They were talking, but they spoke in such hushed tones. Alice couldn't make out was what being said. Unable to hear her sister's dilemma and unwilling to listen to Lord Glaswell's ramblings, Alice nodded to Laurence, "Gladly."

He took Alice's hand and escorted her out to the dance floor.

They assumed their positions as the band queued up. Alice was concerned with what could have possibly upset her sister so badly, but she was sure her mother would tell her all about it later once they arrived home. She cleared her mind of the matter.

Just before the first note was played, Alice caught the briefest snippet of conversation:

"…there, she's the one that insulted Lady Ascot…"

Alice's ears pricked up and the music began. She didn't turn her head around, but she kept her ears open to the conversation going on behind her as she began to dance.

"… in her own home? After she'd been kind enough to even invite her to tea? The nerve!"

"Apparently she's under the impression she's above the rest of us because she works for Lord Ascot."

Alice's stomach curdled. They were talking about her. They didn't even bother to whisper in their gossip, they said it out loud, and clear enough for Alice to hear them from four metres away!

"Poor Lady Ascot. I'd be mortified if that happened to me."

Alice's face flushed red. Poor Lady Ascot indeed!

As the dance called for Alice to spin around, she twirled and caught the faces of the two tittle-tattlers. She fully expected for the two hens to be Mrs. Fratsworth and Mrs. Columbine, but it was two ladies that Alice hadn't even met before. She endured their pointed glares until she faced away from them again.

Alice was astonished. How did it come to be that two women she didn't even know had come to hear of an event that took place behind closed doors?

"And her sister didn't do anything to stop her?"

The woman scoffed, "Of course not. Her sister is Mrs. Manchester."

The other crone gasped, appalled, "The Mrs. Manchester with that rogue of a husband?"

"The same. She can't even keep her husband in line, what makes you think she can control such a harpy of a sister?"

Alice felt as if she had just been hit with a brick.

Laurence led Alice away from the duo and around the room as the dance commenced. As Alice circled the ball, she discovered that the two older ladies weren't the only ones talking. Her and her sister's names were being whispered everywhere in scandalized tones.

Shameful, airs, disgraceful, arrogant, rude, reprehensible, dreadful, uncouth, awful, and a dozen other taunts coupled with her family's name echoed around the room as Alice passed the seats of the respectable ladies.

Had the entire ball been informed of yesterday's afternoon tea and did they all judge her so harshly for it?

Alice danced full circle and landed right back in front of the two old women.

"Sickening," one spat.

"Are you alright, Miss Kingsleigh?" Laurence asked, seeing her face.

All colour had been drained out of Alice. Her jaw was clenched shut and her arms were trembling. No wonder Margaret had been crying; all of London despised them and it was all Alice's fault. This could ruin them socially forever.

"No," Alice replied to Laurence's question dropping her limbs and stepping away, "I don't feel well. I… I think I need a drink of water."

Laurence left the path of oncoming dancers and told her considerately, "Well, the refreshment room is just across the hall."

Alice swung around and headed for the ballroom exit.

"Do you need an escort?" Laurence added.

"No. No!" she called back at him, refusing to even turn around. She just needed to leave this room. She could feel the vast ocean of contempt around her. The digs against Alice and her family hit her like a stormy torrent and the glares that followed her out of the ballroom smarted more than shark bites. She was drowning.

Now she understood why Margaret hadn't forgiven her. Alice wouldn't forgive herself either. If she had known her sharp tongue would have caused this much commotion she would have tried much harder to bite it.

Alice flew out of the ballroom. She still was suffocating. Water would help, but at this point if she so much stumbled upon a flask of rum she would down it in a heartbeat.

Alice marched across the entrance hall past the staircase and went straight into the refreshment room. It was nearly empty except for two individuals…

Alice skidded to a halt as Lowell tore himself off a young woman.

The entire room stood motionless for a minute. Alice was too aghast to even speak and Lowell knew he had been caught fooling around by his sister-in-law again. There was nothing but silence.

The floozy was the first to break the long pause by squealing with embarrassment and running out of the refreshment room at full speed. Lowell's eyes followed her disappointedly.

All of a sudden, Alice stopped feeling sorry. Any hatred she felt in the ballroom didn't even begin to compare to the hatred she felt for Lowell. For God's sake his wife just became ostracized by every respectable person in London and what was he doing? Kissing some tart!

Alice strutted over and punched him. Hard. So hard he recoiled a few steps.

"How dare you?!" Alice growled deeply as Lowell cupped his bruised cheek, "After all that Margaret's been through? How dare you?!" Alice tried to deliver another right hook, but this time Lowell dodged. Alice didn't care; she just fixed him with a glare and declared, "You'll pay for it this time Lowell." She spun around, only to be halted by a firm grasp around her arm.

"You can't tell your sister!" ordered Lowell, a dangerous fear flickering in his eyes, "You can't!"

Alice wasn't going to tell Margaret. As if she hadn't already had a bad enough day. No, Alice wasn't sure what she was going to do to Lowell, but once she decided he was going to regret ever dishonouring his wedding vows.

"Stop that!" Alice hissed as she ripped her arm away and tried to escape again.

"Oh no you don't!" Lowell barked, reaching out yet again to stop her.

He didn't get the opportunity however as the overweight Mrs. Hilltop waddled into the refreshment room. Lowell quickly withdrew his hand. Mrs. Hilltop paid them no mind as she picked up her pastry plate and began mindlessly forking tasty morsels onto it.

Alice took this opportunity and left the refreshment room. She was going to go straight to her mother and Margaret and demand they all leave at once. Lowell could crawl home for all she cared.

She hadn't stepped four feet away from the door when Lowell's fingers wrapped around her wrist. He yanked her off behind the staircase.

"Let me go!" she demanded.

Lowell pinned her up against the side of the staircase with his body. It wasn't sexual by any means, but it was still very, very threatening. Alice struggled and tried to push him away from her, but it was no use.

"You are not to tell your sister of this, do you understand?" When Alice didn't reply immediately, he slapped her across the face, "Do you understand?!"

All of a sudden the weight of Lowell's body was peeled off of her. He flew to the ground, tackled by a streak of orange, brown, and pink. The slap had made her slightly dizzy and she wobbled to the floor.

She caught herself on her hands and knees. She blinked a few times and regained her focus, but what she focused on wasn't the tussle going on beside her, but a terribly familiar object right in front of her.

Ignoring the thuds and cracks beside her, Alice picked up the object and stared at it in wide-eyed curiosity. It was a large brown hat with a tea rose coloured ribbon. It was very ornately decorated with lace, hat pins, a peacock feathers, and a strange tag reading 10/6 on it.

Of course Alice recognized it immediately, but she simply couldn't believe what she was seeing. Had Lowell really slapped her that hard? She shook her head. No. This was here. This was her Hatter's hat.

Her head swung over to see who had come to her rescue. Hunched over Lowell and facing away from Alice was someone who deeply resembled the pale ginger man from her dreams. He was also punching the living daylights out of her assaulter.

Alice's breathing became very shallow.

"Hatter?" she called softly.

The man didn't falter as he carried on beating Lowell's face into the ground.

"Hatter?!" she cried a little more desperately.

Upon finally hearing her voice, the man froze mid-swing.

Alice watched silently as he sat up straight. His clenched fists went limp on his wrists. He slowly turned around and greeted her with his large green eyes and sheepish gap-toothed grin, "Hello, Alice."

Alice rose from her crouch, hat in hand, and Hatter followed suit. She approached him slowly, refusing to even blink lest he disappear. She dared to lay the tips of her fingers on his face. He felt real…

"Is it really you?" she asked.

Hatter nodded, and Alice wrapped her arms around him in an embrace.

She couldn't believe it. She just couldn't believe it! He was here, Underland was real and she wasn't insane. Every awful event that occurred tonight almost evaporated away with her elatedness. How amazing it was to feel so completely alone not a minute ago and then feel a second later that one had all the friends in the world.

The Hatter reacted awkwardly to her hug, standing perfectly stiff. He anxiously whispered while in her embrace, "Alice. Don't you think we should leave before somebody sees…?"

Alice looked up and saw him motioning with his eyes to Lowell's bruised and battered body in the corner.

Alice released him, "Yes. Yes, you're right." The woman Lowell was feeling up would be checking on him eventually. It was best they leave before she found them.

"This way," Hatter gently took her hand and led her into the empty hat check room.

Hatter shut the door behind him. Alice still hadn't gotten over that he was here! She had been fretting so desperately ever since she'd seen the rabbit hole… Wait, the rabbit hole…

"Hatter, how did you get here?" she questioned.

Hatter got behind the counter and said, "Well…"

"Hello, Alice!" chirped Chessur, appearing in the mirror behind Hatter.

"Oh! Chessur!" Alice smiled. Having Chessur appear in a looking glass was strange, but Alice figured it would be far stranger if Chessur arrived in any normal way.

"I take it everything went smoothly with no complications," Chessur mentioned, eyeing the red mark growing across Alice's cheek.

"Yes, well…" Hatter mumbled.

"Have you told her about the Red Queen, yet?" Chessur interrupted.

Alice eyebrows furrowed, "What about the Red Queen?"

Hatter opened his mouth, but it was Chessur who answered, "She's back in Underland. The White Queen pardoned her and now she resides at Marmoreal."

What? After all that work to dethrone her, the White Queen just let the Red Queen waltz back into Underland? That didn't sound right. The White Queen wouldn't do something like that…

"As you can imagine, the creatures of Underland are ready to revolt," Chessur continued, "Which is why we want you to come back."

Alice looked between Chessur and Hatter in surprise, "Me?" she asked, "What could I possibly do?"

"You-"

"You can persuade the White Queen to re-banish The Red," Chessur interrupted once more. Hatter was becoming quite cross with being cut off so much, but Chessur was (probably) oblivious.

Alice pursed her lips. Chessur sounded sure, but Alice wasn't so positive she could convince anybody to do anything, especially the White Queen. All in all it seemed like a pretty flimsy excuse to go to Underland.

'Don't be stupid, Alice!' a part of her exclaimed; a part that she learned to ignore in China as it tended to get in the way of using logic and doing business. That part of her reminded her of all the friends she had in Underland and how awful London was in comparison.

It was a good argument, too. Her friends said they needed her, who needed her here? No one liked her here except crusty old business men, and all she did was ruin her family's lives with her big mouth.

Alice had to restrain the grimace that threatened to appear on her face. It was almost disappointing how easily Alice convinced herself that going to Underland would be better. In fact, the only thing that restrained her from going was her sister. Alice felt the deep need to apologize to her and to make things right again… but on the other hand, just how desperate were things in Underland? What if the time it took to earn her sister's forgiveness was enough time for Underland to enter into an uprising?

Alice had decided.

She raised her head. Tarrant was nervously twiddling with his fingers as Chessur's calm confident gaze bore into her. She asked once more, "Are you sure I can help?"

"Yes!" they both cried in unison.

Alice beamed, "Then I'll go."

Tarrant burst into a smile and leaped triumphantly three feet into the air, hints of Futterwacken about his legs.

Alice laughed, but quickly warned "I can only stay for a little while, though. I need to get back here eventually. I have things to do."

Tarrant's grin faltered a tad, but it returned fully as he nodded, "Alright." He held his hand out from behind the counter, "Let's go."

"Where? … Through the looking glass?" Alice figured out.

"Yes!" Tarrant bobbed his head enthusiastically, "A fine way to travel. A great way to get where you need to be. The best mode of transportation since hat, I daresay!"

Alice smiled as he led her around the counter. She stopped and gasped at the unconscious man on the ground.

"Oh, yes, that's right. Mind the chap," Hatter chuckled.

Alice carefully stepped over the body. "Did you knock out every man you met here?" she joked.

Of course, Hatter being Hatter took the question seriously and thought about it for a moment, "No, there was one man I'm sure is still quite conscious… I think. Do they serve spirits at Otherland parties?"

Alice drew closer to the mirror and hesitated. Surely this was much too small to fit through? Chessur urged her from the other side, "Just stick your hand through. I'll pull you through. It won't hurt."

Alice obeyed and warily stuck her fingers through the mirror. It transfixed her for a moment, but then she quickly submerged her whole hand. Alice was sucked out of Hatter's grasp as she flew into the mirror, the looking glass stretching to accommodate Alice's volume as well as her ball gown's.

She fell about two feet out onto soft carpet, her hand cradled by Chessur's paw. Tarrant squeezed himself through the mirror and plopped out much less gracefully than Alice did.

"Welcome back," Chessur purred.

Yay, I'm finally done with chapter four! Woohoo! For some reason this chapter was really hard to write. Stuff would sound awkward when I wrote it but then would sound fine when I read it later on, and paragraphs I wrote that I thought were genius I eventually had to cut because they turned out to be rubbish. Ah well, at least now its all done and Alice is finally back in Underland! Care to review and tell me about it?