Chapter 13

'In our endeavors to recall to memory of something long forgotten, we often find ourselves upon the very verge of remembrance, without being able, in the end, to remember.' -Ligeia, Edgar Allen Poe

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The home of the Yellow Queen was a large cottage that stood on the edges of a large farm. The walls of the home were covered in thick green ivy and the thatched roof looked sturdy. Alyiona of Queast glided along toward her home, the small group of travelers following behind her. Gared, the man in black who had emerged from the Looking-Glass world, was right behind her. Chessur kept to his usual place on Mad Helen's shoulder, his tail curled around her neck, while she walked beside the Hatter. The last of the group was the raven, who kept its place upon the shoulder of the Yellow Queen.

Once inside the cottage, they found themselves in a very homey sitting room done in various shades of yellows, golds and browns. "Make yourselves comfortable," said Alyiona as she glided her way across room, her yellow skirts swaying with each movement, toward the back where the kitchen resided.

Helen did not hesitate to move to a rather cushy looking loveseat, dragging the Hatter behind her. He didn't put up a fight as she sat down and pulled him down beside her. He smiled slightly as she hugged his arm as she had since they found themselves in the clover field. She was humming a gentle lullaby, a soft tune that reminded the Hatter of home...

Home...

Helen was tied to him in a way he was not sure of. He knew that she had, at some point in life, been a part of his past. The memories of his sister were ones that had remained buried for so many years. To remember her after all this time, at the presence of this mad woman who called herself Helen. It was no mere coincidence. So many questions swirled around her, what few that were answered many more sprung up in their place... Still, he could not regret the fact that she had glided her way into his life so easily. It was as if she was meant to be here, be beside him...

The Hatter heard a sharp intake of breath and he glanced down to find Helen's gentle fingers moving ever so softly across the wounds of his chest. He had forgotten about his injuries the moment she was safe within his arms out in the clover field. Now that they were no longer in danger, the stinging pain was making itself known once again. He winced but couldn't help the small smile that played on his lips as Helen looked up at him. "Hatter, you're hurt..."

He reached out to brush the mad, dark curls from her left cheek, the sight of her marred flesh plain to see. "'Tis a scratch. Nothing for you to worry over," he said in his native brogue, taking her gloved hands away from his gashes and bringing them to his lips. He pressed a gentle kiss upon each hand, not missing the slight cough that had emerged from the rather stoic form of Gared. The Hatter glanced at the other man, who remained standing by the front door, taking in the impassive look on his rugged, russet features. The dark eyes that watched him were showing a warning, his large arms folded across his broad chest.

"Enough of that, Gared. Leave them be. They've been without one another long enough, let them have their time."

Everyone glanced over to catch Alyiona gliding her way back into the sitting room with a tray filled with a fresh pot of tea. A young female rabbit was hopping along after her, dressed in a finely tailored golden vest. She was a earthy brown in color and her loppy ears bounced with each hop. A single yellow bow that wrapped around her left ear gave any indication of her gender to those who could not tell. She was carrying a tray of bandages and healing balms, her movements well practiced.

"Now, everyone please relax with a nice spot of tea while I take care of Master Hightopp. I must say that creature gave you a bit of graze there."

Alyiona moved to set the tray with the tea pot and cups down on the coffee table while her assistant placed the tray of bandages on the end stand beside the Hatter. Helen remained sitting beside the Hatter, her dark eyes watching the Yellow Queen in curiosity as the other woman began to attend to the Hatter's wounded chest. The Hatter said nothing in protest, having recognized the tools of the healing trade from the White Queen's own hospital wing at the castle. Silence fell in the room while the rabbit moved about, serving cups of tea to those who could hold it. The gentle clinking of tea cups against trays broke the silence while Alyiona worked.

"How did you know of where we were?" Chessur was, as always, the first to get to the point. He was floating not too far from Helen. He seemed to be taken with staying near Helen since their trek through the Looking-Glass world. He had carefully set his cup aside, his tail flicking gently to play with Helen's mad curls. Alyiona had finished bandaging the Hatter's wounds by this time and she placed the leftover bandages and balm back on the tray for the rabbit to take. She thanked the rabbit, who gave a quick nod of her head as she left the room. The Yellow Queen sighed softly before moving to sit in the lone armchair.

"I've been watching since Helen had first reappeared," said Alyiona in reply, her dark eyes focusing on the Cheshire cat before they flicked over to Mad Helen. The woman in question had her arms securely wrapped around the Hatter's arm, who had placed a hand upon her thigh without realizing. She had her eyes closed as she murmured softly to herself, her top hat sitting at an angle on her dark, curly hair. The smile came to Alyiona's as she noted how close the couple was, despite their madness they still felt that attraction to one another.

"Reappeared?" The Hatter watched as the Yellow Queen sat, peacefully enduring the questioning gazes from the Hatter and the Cheshire Cat. "She has been here before but why has the Oraculum not foretold of her? It had for Alice and she was of the Upperland..."

"We are not allowed to speak of her bloodline, we are not allowed to even remember. Those who do recall will quickly find themselves under the same curse as the rest of us." She glanced at the raven then, who had moved to sit quietly on the shoulder of Gared since they had entered the large cottage. Gared himself was looking particularly menacing, as if the mention of the curse was the bane of his existence. Alyiona quickly focused her gaze upon the Hatter before she pushed herself up from the armchair. "Come with me, I will show you some of what I cannot speak."

The Hatter did not move until Helen had, the mad woman moving gracefully to her feet before looking back at him. She reached out a hand to him, her dark eyes pleading. "Hatter, what lies beyond the shadows of the mountains? We are all near our Witzend..."

He took her hand, listening carefully as he got to his feet and followed the rest of the group out of the sitting room.

Witzend...

The wild hills of his home territory. The suffering had started there in his hometown... On that terrible, bloody day... Could she know of it? What mysteries could the Yellow Queen unravel that was Mad Helen? He was somewhat afraid of the answers...

.oOo.

The Yellow Queen led them through the kitchen of the large cottage, around where the lady lop-eared rabbit was working on dinner, and to another door. She opened the door outwards, it was a flight of narrow stairs that curled up and out of sight. She led the way to the upper floor of her cottage, not looking back to see if they were following. Helen followed behind Alyiona, her gloved hands holding on tightly to that of the Hatter's. Chess was lingering behind him, floating closely as if he were too eager in his curiosity. The Hatter was quite aware that Gared and the raven had remained downstairs, as if they knew that their presence was not required for this particular venture.

The staircase stopped in front of another door, which opened inward. Alyiona led the way, her golden curls trying to break free of her bun. Her usual creamy skin had lost its rosiness by this time and her dark eyes were focused on a large full length mirror that rested in the corner of a small room they had entered. This room was done up in tones of gold and yellows as the rest of the house but the mirror did not with the rest of the décor. It was like the White Queen's, nearly identical even, save that the numbers were like that of a normal clock face along the edge. The numbers were glowing in a gentle golden light and the mirror itself was just normal reflective glass, at the moment at least.

At the sight of it, Helen let out a gentle whimper and turned her face away, hiding it in the cloth of Hatter's worn coat. He quickly reached his free hand down to place over one of Helen's gloved ones, knowing her fear of mirrors. After experiencing the Looking-Glass world for himself, he understood well enough why she was afraid of them. He kept her as close beside her as she would allow, whispering soothing words against her top hat. Chessur's grin was not as wide as it should be, he was staring at the mirror. The Yellow Queen was in front of it and she was lightly touching the numbers at various places.

"I was to rule over this land of Queast, these lands have always been peaceful... Until the day that darkness descended upon the entire family-" She winced at this, her words cutting off as if she had been in pain. She eased out a gentle breath and turned around to face the Hatter and the Cheshire cat. "I saw the look in your eyes the moment I introduced myself Master Hightopp. I could see the anger that was buried so deep. You have wondered how I could sit so idly by while my cousin Iracabeth, that lovely bloody queen, had usurped the throne. It was not easy. You forget that my own land was in civil war, a war I could not end because I did not have the power to do so." She closed her eyes and took in another breath, the memories of that long ago day, so long before the Horunvendush Day. "There is a darkness in our lands that did not begin, and had not ended, with the Red Queen. It had happened long before myself, or my cousins, were even born. The day the Royal Families were broken asund-" She gasped at this and held a hand to her chest, a sad smile touching her lips. "I cannot even speak of it. Such a trivial thing really..."

"Jack be nimble, Jack be quick..."

Helen's broken voice had began on one of her many rhymes, her dark eyes taking on a very haunted look. Alyiona noticed this and she gave a single nod. "Helen always speaks the truth. She is the one who had been split since this curse had been cast upon us all." She sighed softly, her dark eyes studying the mad woman with something akin to affection. "Yet because of this she is able to speak of what we cannot. Always heed the broken words that flow from her mouth."

"I do not understand. What does your renouncing your throne, the Red Queen's bloody reign... Helen..." Chessur glanced at the mad woman, his luminous green eyes growing sad. "What does this have anything to do with who our Mad Helen is?"

Alyiona's heart-shaped face grew terribly sad as she turned back toward the mirror, holding out her hand toward the couple. "Everything my dear Cheshire cat. Everything..." She glanced at Helen and Hatter, beckoning them closer. "You will see what is allowed to be seen. Your broken memories that had been cast away on that terrible Horunvendush Day."

Helen was trembling by this time, her fear of mirrors rising high within her chest. Even with the Hatter beside her, the tears fell down her olive cheeks. The couple walked forward, the Hatter leading the way as he gave support to the broken woman beside him. Without a word, they reached out to the mirror, their fingers gently interlacing... A flash of light, glowing numbers of a clock face burning bright against their lids... then...

.oOo.

A field of flowers were the first sight to greet his electric eyes. The high hills of Witzend rolled off in the distance and he couldn't keep the smile from his face. He was home...

"Tarrant!" A girl's voice cried across the field for him and he turned, catching sight of a familiar hair of bright red waves. Her electric green eyes matched his own, the skirt of her green dress, embroidered with pink flowers and vines, flowing about her feet.

"Moira," said the teenage Tarrant as he reached down to sweep the young girl off of her feet and through the air. She squealed with delight and begged to be put down. He laughed at his little sister, his love for her flowing over in his heart. He placed her down back to her feet and he listened as she chatted on about a new friend she had made. Her new friend had been right behind her and she would be here soon. He had to promise not to tease her!

Tarrant laughed and promised, knowing that he would do all he could to embarrass his little sister in front of her new friend. Moira had turned then, her green eyes growing alight with excitement. She cried out her friend's name, waving frantically as another girl, slightly older than Moira, made her way up the hill. She was slightly out of breath and she wore a dress of dark blue that resembled the night sky. Her hair was a mad array of dark curls that looked as if someone had tried, and failed, to tame them. Her dark eyes were sparkling with laughter as she made her way to them.

"Moira, why didn't you wait for me? You know I can't run as fast as you can." Her accent was unlike anything he had ever heard before. She didn't seem to be a native of any of the provinces of Underland. She had come to a stop beside his sister, a slight pink tinge visible beneath the olive tone of her cheeks. "Next time, I get a head start ok?"

"Of course! I'll still beat you of though," said Moira, her giggling causing the older girl to laugh as well. "You made it though so you get to meet my brother, Tarrant." Moira turned to her older brother then, the infamous little green top hat sitting on her head. "Brother, this is my new friend. She just came to town with her mother at the request of the White Queen. Her name is Eronel."

Tarrant felt as if his world had been tossed upside down and inside out, the adult in him recognizing the large smile that greeted him.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Tarrant," said a young Helen as she grasped the hems of her skirt and curtsied in a very graceful manner. Her dark eyes were focused on his lime green ones, her olive face smooth and full of life and clarity.

"Likewise Lady Eronel," said the teenage Tarrant in reply, sweeping his top hat off of his head and bowing in response. Within him, the adult Tarrant reeled with the revelation. Helen's true name was Eronel... He had always known her...

Always...

His little artist...

.oOo.

Who was he to say

What direction was my way?

Through the shattered pieces

Of the Looking Glass world

I go forward to time past...

And he would say I would not last?

And they thought me crazy... ~Eronel and the man named Jack