The thundering footsteps were the first real sound that the castle at Marmoreal had heard in nearly nine months. McTwisp's furry paws pounded the white marble as he slipped and slid around corners, taking stairs three at a time. The cacophonous dash roused Thackery from his place at the long table in the dining hall, where he had fallen asleep in a cup of tea. Mallymkun raised her head as the rabbit zoomed past the doorway. "Oy! Where do you think you're going? You haven't had tea yet!"

"TEA!" At the mention of the beverage, Thackery hurled the cup he had been napping in at the rapidly disappearing white tail. The cup smashed on the wall, leaving a streak of sticky, brown liquid dripping down to the polished floor. It was barely seconds before a small frog appeared with a cloth, bucket and tiny mop to clean up the mess, part of the crew always on hand during Brilig. McTwisp didn't turn, didn't stop, but shouted back over his shoulder.

"Find the Hatter! She's made the call!"

As the pair scrambled to their feet and tore off in the direction of the garden, McTwisp raced along the final stretch of corridor and burst through the doors that led into the throne room. The assembled members of the court started slightly at the raucous manner of his entrance, but retained their air of pleasant curiousity. Nivens McTwisp straightened up, caught his breath for a moment and walked calmly towards the throne.

Things had changed in nine months. The White Queen had regained her dominion in Underland and much of her lands had been restored to their former glory. Even the chateau at Witzend had been rebuilt, although the Hatter had refused to live there again. Too many memories, he'd said. Time was still sore over his transgressions regarding her absence the first time to give him enough to deal with them. These days, the queen had taken to entertaining visiting diplomats there, in the hopes that new memories could expunge the old ones.

Perhaps... perhaps he was still waiting for her at the old windmill. The rabbit cursed himself for not thinking of that. He should have sent Bandy to look for him, or perhaps Bayard. Chess wouldn't have been any help at all. Perhaps he'd gone for good, this time. The last time he'd gone wandering, Mally and Thackery had found him on the outskirts of the Outlands, calling her name blindly and wandering in circles with a teacup in his hand.

But they could fix things now. She had made the call.

Nivens approached the throne and knelt before it. Mirana, radiant in silver and white gossamer, inclined her head gently, the afternoon light glinting off the crown. "What news, McTwisp?"

"My queen, it is a matter of urgency. I request a private audience."

The queen's dark eyes held the gaze of McTwisp's own red ones. It was moments such as this one that Nivens believed that those eyes could see through anyone... to their very soul. What she found in the rabbit's appeared to be enough to make up her mind. "Very well." The queen stood fluidly and surveyed her court, giving those present a sweet smile. "If you could excuse us for a moment?"

The room emptied swiftly. No-one considered for a moment denying the queen's request, because... well, she was the Queen. Not in the way that the Red Queen had been, oh no. Mirana's reign had been peaceful, for the most part. Teatime was usually a bit noisy. Nivens followed the White Queen from the hall and back through the corridors to the kitchen where she kept her laboratory. Private audiences were usually held in her chambers, but those present on the Frabjous Day were always taken to the kitchen. McTwisp had noticed, not by chance, that whenever Tarrant Hightopp had appeared at court, Mirana had always spoken to him in the kitchen and, until today, he'd never understood why.

Now he did. She'd been waiting. He was sure of it.

The door swung shut behind them and instantly Mirana pressed her ear to it, listening intently. When she was satisfied no-one was listening in, she turned to the rabbit. "If you are about to say what I think you are about to say, I need to know this. Were you followed?"

"Not that I'm aware of, your majesty."

"Has anyone else knowledge of this information?"

"Only Thackery and Mally... and I'm not certain that even they know the full implications of this."

"What of Tarrant?"

"I sent them to find him."

The queen visibly relaxed, sweeping over to her workstation. "I am glad of that. I can only hope that they find him quickly. Has he been to the old windmill again?"

"Everyday this week, my Queen. I think he's still looking for the table, or at the very least... waiting for her to arrive."

Mirana frowned gently. "Oh, botheration! I knew we shouldn't have moved it to his quarters."

"My lady, he requested..."

"I'm well aware of what the Hatter requested, Nivens. What I'm concerned with is his state of mind. From the reports I've received, it isn't getting any better."

McTwisp's ear twitched and he twisted his paws together rather nervously, feeling uncomfortable. "It's not likely to, either, my lady."

Mirana gripped the edge of the table. "Then it's true? You have proof?"

The rabbit nodded and reached into his pocket. From it, he retrieved a small, wooden box that he laid on the bench and opened carefully. Inside was a small piece of mirror – barely more than a shard of glass – that seemed to be vibrating. A high-pitched note rang out into the room, not very loud, as if someone had rubbed a wet finger on the rim of a wineglass. Nivens closed the box as Mirana closed her eyes and breathed deeply. "Then it's true. After all this time..."

"She's made the call, your majesty. Whether she knows it or not, Alice has invoked the Song of Tears."

The breeze blew gently, catching locks of tumbling, tangled orange hair and playing with them as their owner stood in front of the old windmill. Illusions slipped before his eyes, taunting him – an elaborately set tea table, the sight of Mally throwing sugar at Thackery as he smashed cups left and right... a tiny, blonde girl giggling; her face covered with chocolate cake, waiting patiently for another cup of tea -

It changed; the tea table was split and broken, the scones stale and the tea almost cold. The girl was gone, replaced by a young woman of astounding beauty and radiance. He felt the familiar knot in his stomach, the strained smile stretching his face painfully.

"I'm glad you're back, you know that I always hoped you'd come back..."

Hatter...

"... and I said to myself that you'd come back because you said you'd be back..."

Hatter!

"And you wouldn't forget to come back because you said you wouldn't and now you have and..."

HATTER!

Tarrant Hightopp, the Hatter employed by the White Queen and Steward-Champion of Marmoreal, looked down at Mallymkun tapping her foot irritatedly.

"... I'm fine," he wheezed. The visions disappeared and he looked about him. "Where...?"

"The old windmill, you great galumphing fool! You've been here all afternoon and now you're terribly late for tea! It's well past Brilig!"

The windmill creaked behind him in agreement as Tarrant reached into his pocket and fished out the old pocket watch. It was ticking, but slowly.

Oh Alice... the Hatter thought miserably as he replaced the watch and smiled sadly at Mally. Not only was he seeing her in his daily delusions as well as in his sleeping hours, but now Time was going slowly, bent on torturing him. Come back to me! "I suppose I'd better come home with you, then? Can't stay out here forever, you know."

"Well, you could, but I'd advise against it. McTwisp sent us," Mally said, pointing over at Thackery, who was scratching at the bare dirt where the table used to be. The March Hare looked up and giggled madly as the Hatter caught his eye.

"Such a pretty song... sing-sing-song-song," he rambled, pawing at the dirt. Tarrant narrowed his blazing green eyes and turned back to Mally.

"What's he talking about?"

"Don't know, just been sent to bring you home. Same as usual."

"Mally..."

The dormouse shifted her weight from foot to foot. "The rabbit... he's found something. We're not just bringing you home, we're to take you to your quarters and make sure you stay there until the Queen arrives."

"Who told you this?"

"'Tis been our orders since Frabjous Day. If the call is made, bring him home to wait for further instructions," Thackery stuttered in a rare moment of lucidity. Tarrant's eyes flashed between the two of them and settled back on Mally, burning a fearsome orange and when he spoke, the dark burn of a Scottish brogue licked every word.

"D'ye not think tae tell me o'this?"

"We... we couldn't! We swore we wouldn't! We took an oath to the White Queen!" Mallymkun squeaked, tripping over her own paws as the Hatter advanced, darkness surrounding his eyes. A sinister grin appeared on his face.

"Weeell, ye've now gut what ye came here for. Am I tae follow y'home to Marmoreal, tae wait until some wee scuttish urpal has the dignity to to summon me? AM I?"

"HATTER!" Mally shouted, stomping her foot again. Tarrant's eyes returned to their normal shade of green. He bowed his head in shame and clutched the sides of his face.

"... too crowded," he mumbled. "Too much noise."

"Thackery, we have to get him home... now," Mally whispered. The March Hare looked up from his spot on the ground.

"Sing-song-merrily-song," he chanted softly, before climbing to his feet and bounding over to the Hatter with a leaping gait, taking his hand gently. "Time to join the dance, Hatter!"

"Dance... she did love to see me dance..." Tarrant whispered as he was led away.

Mirana was a patient woman, but it was almost unendurable to wait out the Hatter's return to Marmoreal, especially in light of the recent events. Not that she hadn't been expecting them. On the Frabjous Day, she'd seen the look that passed between her Champion and her Hatter and had come away knowing that one day the call would come. What she hadn't expected was the length of time it had taken to do so.

She moved to the centre of the room, circling the table in way of a distraction. It had been repaired carefully in recent months and was now laid for a lavish afternoon tea, a high-backed chair at the head of it that still bore the scars of years of overuse. It had been one of two parts of the furniture retrieved from outside the windmill that Mirana had been forbidden to repair. The other was her chair.

The White Queen had understood this. Tarrant had wanted it to stay mostly the same, to have a shred of her left behind. He wanted what remained of Alice to be close... as much as it could be. It worried her that one of her oldest friends and most loyal of subjects was suffering in his madness. She had been incredibly frightened when Mally had returned with him after his wanderings to the Outlands. On that day, she had sat by the mirror, listening for any sign... anything that might tell her what was yet to come.

You make the path...

It was the old piece of wisdom that Absolem had given her in the days before she was the White Queen, when Princess Mirana worried if she was doing the right thing by challenging Iracebeth's right of ascension. She had come to the wise old caterpillar, distraught, questioning the accuracy of the Oraculum. Who was to say that Iracebeth would not make a better queen? What right had she, as the youngest, to try and take the crown from her sister?

Mirana smiled to herself, examining a spoon. It wasn't difficult to imagine how Alice must have felt upon learning she would have to slay the Jabberwocky. The Oraculum had its ways, there was no doubt of that. It saw what you were capable of and made you fear it, avoid it, scorn it and deny it... but in the end, you accepted it.

"Ye wanted to speak to me, yer Highness."

Mirana turned to find Tarrant in his own doorway. He staggered into the room, passed the Queen and lurching as he went, before tumbling into the old chair at the head of the table. The Hatter lifted his head and looked her square in the eye. "Ye have me now. 'Tis time ye tole me what ye should'a done on that there chessboard."

"Of course," the White Queen said softly, taking a place at the far end of the table. As Tarrant poured a cup of tea, she pressed her fingertips together and watched him carefully. "Tarrant, what do you know of the old magick that guards Underland?"

He sipped his tea, turning the cup in his hands. "'Tis ancient, that. Hightopps once knew the ways that sealed this place off. Talk tells that the Hightopp clan were the ones responsible for the seals, tho' it be diff'cult to prove suchadays."

"I'm not talking just of that, Tarrant. I'm talking of the magicks that protect the people."

The teacup sat itself back down unsteadily, rattling a little on the saucer. "Many spells protect the people. Ye ken that, w'ya bein' quin an' all."

"I do. Tell me, Hatter... have you any knowledge of the Song of Tears?"

Tarrant shoved the chair back from the table violently and pitched his half-empty cup at Mirana's head. A thoughtful bow of her pretty head was enough to keep the contents of the missile from striking her and instead it collided with a tapestry hanging on the far wall. The Hatter's eyes glowed like hot embers. "Ye dare come to me with that? Ye, who kept a watchful e'en on me mind as it fell apart? Ye, who bound the mouse and the hare to perform their duties? Ye, who spoke with the rabbit and as such as no' taken counsel w'me 'till now? YE BRING ME THUS?"

"Hatter!" The White Queen was on her feet, her face darkening. The mad milliner quailed under the fury that rolled over him in waves. Mirana, realising her mistake, seemed to shrink and fade... until she was the gentle, benevolent woman she always appeared to be. "I – I apologise. I should have spoken with you months ago. I saw the warning signs, but I held onto the hope that -"

"What? That Alice would come back?" The name passed tremulously over his lips with a slight lisp and Mirana gave an internal sigh. There was some hope, then. The Mad Hatter bowed his head. "I still hope. I see her, everywhere. I hear her voice and her laugh and smell that lovely perfume she wore..."

"Tarrant, I'm afraid she can't come home."

The silence was thick with the words that had come from the Queen. Then a sharp sob cut through it like a hot knife in butter. The last of the Hightopps sank into his chair, squeezing his eyes shut and clutching his head, rocking back and forth. "Oh... oh oh..."

"Tarrant, listen to me! You must hold on, for what I'm about to tell you is important!" Mirana was at his side, pulling at his arms, forcing him to turn his head. He dared notlook at her, for fear of what he would see in her face. Eventually, the White Queen managed to drag the chair to face her and lifted his chin. "Tarrant, you must look at me."

The Hatter's eyes opened like flowering emeralds. "Take it back," he begged in a hoarse whisper. "Take it all back. Alice can come home, she must! She said she would!"

"You know what the Song of Tears is, don't you?"

Eyes closed again. "No... no... can't... 'tis forbidden..."

Mirana tipped his hat back gently and kissed his forehead. "Not in this case."

"... mustn't... can't... 'tis wrong... she can't know how! She never learned!"

"Perhaps, in this case, she didn't need to. Perhaps the magick recognised her?"

"Then she's not really an Abovelander..." the realisation set in and Tarrant looked up in surprise. "You think she might not be such?"

Mirana shook her head, a look of defeat on her face. "I do not know. She has no lineage here, but there may be Underlander in her yet. It is one of two possibilities."

"I know the other possibility, your Ladyship. If she knew, do you think she...?"

"I do not think she would have done it knowingly or, if she did know, have done it willingly." The Queen looked around and lowered her voice. "Have you heard anything unusual lately, Tarrant?"

The Mad Hatter gave her an incredulous look. Unusual? This was Underland! Unusual was...

Commonplace. Everywhere.

She wasn't asking for the odd or insane. She was talking about something that didn't quite fit. Something that was wrong. Something that wasn't quite right. He put his hands to his ears. "Much too loud, lady. Much too crowded. Much too... much."

"I thought so." From the folds of her skirt, Mirana withdrew a small hand mirror and held it out to him. "It doesn't sound like much to me, but I want you to listen."

Tarrant took the mirror gingerly and held it to his ear. He grimaced. "Thackery heard this... can hear this. He can hear the song."

"Tell me."

"Pain... my lady, notes of pain. Sadness, misery, longing, loneliness... so many tears..." Tears of his own were rolling down his face. "Oh... oh... I can't bear... can't... can't bear it..."

"Can you hear anything else?"

"I can hear her crying, over and over and over... the tears are the music... I-I-I can't sit here and just... just..."

"Just a little more, Tarrant... can you hear what she's saying?"

"Can't... don't want to hear... can't bear to hear her crying..."

"Please." Tears were tumbling from the queen's own dark eyes as she watched the Hatter breaking down, shivering and shaking with his head pressed to the glass. "Please, can you hear what she's saying?"

"Calling... she can't find her way home... got... got to save her..." His eyes snapped open. "Alice!"

"Hush!" Mirana whispered, placing an arm in front of his chest to catch him before he pitched forward gently towards the table, removing the mirror from the side of his head. "It's okay. Everything will be fine."

"But she can't... where she is... she can't..."

"You can."

"I..."

"You can hear her. You are the only one who hears her."

"The Hare hears her."

"Thackery hears the song, not the words. It is the blessing of his madness, I wager." Mirana stood up and hid the mirror back in the folds of her extravagant dress, taking her seat once again. Tarrant frowned.

"How long have you known?"

"McTwisp brought me the proof this past Brilig. A mirror smashed in the Round Room and a shard caught the attention of a valet, who brought it to McTwisp."

"How did he know what he was looking for?"

"My dear Hatter, I may have been lacking in providing you with the necessary support, but please – you question my intelligence?" Mirana tutted. "I have seen this as a possibility since the Frabjous Day. McTwisp was the only one I trusted enough to remain alert for the proof. Mallymkun and Thackery were told enough to hold them to their word, nothing more."

"And me? What is my role in this?" The hurt look on Tarrant's pale face was enough to cause the Queen to examine her teacake carefully. "When were you planning to tell me?"

"I had hoped that Alice would return before this was necessary, but events are in motion now that cannot be changed. The Oraculum has been consulted and it is confirmed."

"What is?"

Mirana chewed the cake thoughtfully and swallowed. "Come now, you know the Song of Tears. Alice has made the call. Her Champion must respond."

"It doesn't necessarily mean..."

"Tarrant Hightopp, are you a coward? Your Alice needs you, has sung the Song of Tears and you sit there, cowering in your chair, making excuses that it 'doesn't necessarily mean' you? How dare you, sir! I will not have a Steward-Champion sit before me when his Alice needs him!" Mirana realised that her voice had progressively raised in volume until she was shouting at the Hatter. The corners of his mouth drooped and he fiddled with his cravat.

"I... I need a moment," he whispered.

The cherry blossoms danced in the breeze and dropped their petals into the Hatter's hair as he sat and toyed with his top hat after rushing out on tea with the Queen. The Song of Tears? Is that why she was always in his mind just recently?

"That is a novel way to wear a hat... I would never have thought to wear it on my paws." Tarrant looked over his right shoulder to see Chessur materialising. The cat floated over and rested his paws on the Hatter. "Word has it that you could use a friend right now."

"I could use some peace..." Tarrant mumbled, replacing the hat on his head. Chess rolled over, waggling his paws in the air.

"It seems to me that you are too concerned with who you are and who you are not. I know someone else who was like that once."

"That same person needs me to know, needs me to be. The question is, what should I know? Who do I need to be?" Tarrant sighed and leaned back against the tree, tipping the hat forward to cover his eyes. "These riddles, Chess.. they get harder everyday."

"This is unlike you, Tarrant. You love riddles. You know, I rather thought that things would settle back to normal after Frabjous Day."

"I am... not myself. I feel... partly lost. Like a part of me has going a-wandering. I sent the other half of me looking for it not too long ago, but I only got as far as the Outlands before I was brought back."

"Yes, I was told. You should have asked me to come, I could use the exercise." The droll statement had no effect on the Hatter. Chessur frowned briefly, circling the man's head. "You really are lost, aren't you?"

"I can hear the singing, Chess. All the time and I can't ignore it but what can I do, I'm just a Hatter and I can't do anything to help her here and I..."

"Tarrant!"

"... thank you," the Hatter rasped. Chess studied him as he sat up and straighted his hat. "What should I do, Chess?"

"I think... I think you need to remember who you are, not seek it out. What you have done. Who you are to Alice."

"I'm just a Hatter..."

"Exactly. You are just the Hatter who, when she rode to war, picked up his broadsword and followed her onto that field without a second thought. You are justthe Hatter who stood next to her as she was flooded with fear when the Jabberwocky appeared. You are just the Hatter who waited thirteen years for her to take tea with you again. You are just the Hatter who can hear her calling out to you. You, sir, are just the Hatter she needs."

Tarrant looked at the cat incredulously. "You... really believe that?"

"I don't have to be the one who believes it," Chessur purred, vanishing into the dusk. The Mad Hatter paused for a moment, before scrambling to his feet and striding off in the direction of the castle. I once accused Alice of losing her muchness, he thought, his face burning with shame. What would she say if she could see me now? What has become of my muchness?

McTwisp paced the empty hall, fiddling with his white gloves. The sun had set and the moon hung high over Marmoreal as the rabbit fidgeted nervously at the foot of the throne where the White Queen sat. Mallymkun poked him in the toe with her pin-sword, causing him to leap into the air and grab his foot with a yelp. "Settle down, you great nervous wreck!"

"Settle down? I'm supposed to settle down while that insane Hatter is galumphing around out there with a mind half full of Alice?"

"I prefer Mad Hatter. Just for future reference," Tarrant said quietly, standing in the doorway. Mirana stood smoothly, a smile on her face as the Hatter moved decisively towards her. Mally jumped out of the way as Tarrant knelt before the throne, head bowed. "I have finished my thinking, my lady."

"You needed to think?"

"It is a lot you are asking of me and I wasn't sure whether I was to be worthy of such an undertaking... that is to say that such an undertaking is only to be undertook by those who are truly worthy and that the one who really is worthy cannot undertake this because she is..."

"Hatter!" All three present shouted. Tarrant stuttered to a halt.

"... sorry."

"What is your decision, Tarrant Hightopp; Court Hatter, Steward-Champion of Marmoreal and Underland?"

Without looking up, Tarrant spoke to the floor. "I've been lost, your majesty. I have lost my muchness."

"Everyone loses their muchness now and then. Have you found yours?"

"Not yet, but I believe I will. You see, I'm just a Hatter. But a friend showed me just what kind of Hatter I am."

"And what kind of Hatter are you, Tarrant Hightopp?"

"I'm the kind of Hatter who would follow a girl into battle with his broadsword and bad temper. The kind of Hatter who would stand by a friend when they needed support. The kind of Hatter who would wait forever just to take tea with the ones he loves. The kind of Hatter who cannot ignore a cry for help, wherever it comes from." He looked up, eyes ablaze with green fire and a determined grin on his face. "I'm the kind of Hatter I'd want me to be... and that's the kind of Hatter Alice needs."

"Tarrant... at last," Mirana breathed as Mally and McTwisp cheered and the Hatter climbed to his feet. The doors behind him opened again as Thackery bounced towards him, dragging the old broadsword he had taken to battle on Frabjous Day. Affixing it to his own back, Tarrant drew himself up and threw his shoulders back. When he spoke, his brogue had returned.

"I, Tarrant Hightopp, the last o' the Hightopp Clan, d' hereby present meself afore the White Queen of Marmoreal as her Hatter and Steward-Champion in the stead of Alice Kingsleigh, bound by the vows and oaths taken forthwith. I would nae decline or refuse that which she asks o' me and in kind, she watches o'er me." He leaned forward, his voice lowered to a dangerous rumble.

"Now tell me, what has happened to my Alice?"

Author's notes:

I've been reading One Promise Kept, which is magnificent. If you are enjoying this already, I would heartily recommend that. I own nothing but the general storyline and the idea of the Song of Tears. I adore Johnny Depp's Tarrant Hightopp and would very much like to learn to Futterwacken. Any notes of praise or criticism would be most appreciated.