Alice found Tarrant in his royal haberdashery, as directed by McTwisp. She rapped lightly on the giant oak door upon which was carved an ornate top hat. After waiting a moment for an answer, Alice gingerly pushed it open.

"Hullo?" She called. "Mr. Hightopp?"

"Yes!" Came a voice from behind a stack of fabrics. "I am here!" Alice looked around the large room. It was painfully organized, rows of hat blocks, aisles of trimmings, stacks of fabrics all color coordinated. Alice sighed at the colors - white, salmon, grey, black, tan, lackluster silver and not-at-all-Alice blue.

"It's Alice Kingsley!" Alice called and her response came as a crash from behind the rows of fabric; running back there she found Tarrant covered in hatboxes and dusted with black feathers.

"Goodness!" Alice said.

"I'm fine, I'm fine." He said, pushing aside the empty hatboxes and springing to his feet. "You startl'ed me tha's all." He was quite flustered, his brogue slipping out a bit more than usual. He brushed feathers from his leather apron front and starched white sleeves but neglected to attend to the soft black feathers clinging in his hair. Alice giggled, despite herself. He gave her a questioning look with his brown eyes.

"You resemble a raven." She said, reaching up and picking the feathers from his notably hatless head. He caught her glance and held it with curious eyes.

"A raven?" He said, cocking his head slightly to the side. Alice felt her heart beat faster in her chest.

"Yes... quite raven-like." She said, taking a feather gently off his neck near his ear. Her fingers just brushed against his skin and she felt him shiver in response to her touch.

"Well… yes. Indeed." He fidgeted with his apron tie, searching for words. "That dress does not suit you in the least." He said finally, looking her once over. Alice frowned, quite caught off guard.

"Sorry?" She said. Tarrant blinked and colored slightly.

"Forgive me, that is to say, that color does not suit you. Grey." He moved out of the mess he created and led her to a row of fabrics, gesturing to them. "Blues and silvers are a more appropriate match, I should think." He smiled at her then, a broad and beamish smile that brought his face to life. Alice felt herself wanting to lean into him, to wrap her arms around his neck, wanting to scream, "It's me Hatter! It's your Alice!"

However,

"Do you think so?"

- was all she said before the unwarranted words tumbled out. He nodded vigorously.

"Well then Ms Kingsley, to what do I owe the honor of this visit? Shall I call for some tea?" He asked.

"That would be lovely." Alice replied and Tarrant pulled the string that rang the bell in the kitchen. "I was just curious about hatting." She said nonchalantly, running her hand over a bolt of fabric. "I do love hats." He brightened at that and took her arm, leading her to his workbench where several hats in progress were perched upon hat blocks. A number of metal thimbles lie unattended on the workbench and Alice absently picked one up, rolling it between her thumb and forefinger, the little bits of metal poking at her skin.

"Lovely. The hats, I mean." Alice commented, and so they were, though not as grand as the hats she had seen him create in the past.

"Thank you." Tarrant said, his eyes fixated on the thimble rolling between Alice's slender fingers. "Though… can you keep a secret?" He lowered his voice, and Alice nodded. "I dream of hats in color. Loud colors, disreputable colors…." He confided, glancing up at her, expecting her to be thoroughly scandalized. Her eyes were focused on his own hands, more accurately his fingertips, which were pressed down against the workbench. "So many colors." Tarrant's voice turned wistful. "I should very much like to make a purple hat, though I cannot seem to find purple material, no matter where I look…" His breath caught in his throat as Alice lightly touched his hand with her own, sliding two fingers down his and taking it up. Tarrant swallowed hard. "Do you remember the color purple?" He managed to say. Alice nodded again, bringing his hand up and sliding one of the thimbles over the end of his finger. "I feared I had only dreamed it. I question then... where did it go? Is it possible for a color to go extinct?"

"Perhaps it has only been misplaced." She offered, tilting her head and raising an eyebrow just so, her brown eyes never leaving his hands. Taking the other, she slipped a thimble over his thumb. "Do you recall where you last saw it?"

Tarrant felt himself drawing nearer to Alice, his brown eyes focused on her pursed lips. "I believe… I believe it was… on your lips." He whispered uncertainly, his high brow knitting into a deep frown. Her eyes flashed and met his, hopeful. Quickly he pulled back. "Though that is absurd. Is it not?" He said, even more uncertain. "And highly inappropriate." He chided himself.

"Mr. Hightopp… " Alice began.

"Tarrant, if you please." He interjected.

"Tarrant." Alice smiled.

"Or …Hatter perhaps?" He smiled as Alice lost hers. The thought of calling this man, this handsome, charming, ordinary man before her "Hatter"….

"You are not my Hatter." She disagreed sternly without giving thought to her words, dropping his hand that she still held. Mally poked her hard from inside her pocket and Tarrant appeared quite shocked and stung though his demeanor quickly turned to reservation.

"And what sort of man is your hatter, Ms. Kingsley?" He asked, his gaze unwavering.

"He was," Alice emphasized the word "the best sort of man. The mad and wonderful sort who wore his heart on his peacock blue sleeve." She turned her nose up at him.

"And in his pursuits?" Tarrant very nearly growled.

"Passionate." Alice countered. He grasped her arm with his hand, pulling her slightly more towards him.

"An' in 'is passions?" His brown eyes flickered with green as they bore into hers. Alice felt a fire kindle in her stomach at the sight of those unworldly green eyes.

"I'm sure I wouldn't know." She rebutted, nose in the air, trying to ignore the flame now burning within her. Silence pressed in around them with a terrible, heavy weight – a weight finally lifted by the arrival of the tea service. Tarrant released Alice as the dainty little scullery maid entered, her large doe eyes flashing with curiosity.

"Is there anything else I can do for you sir?" She simpered to Tarrant, hoping to catch another tidbit to gossip with the other maids about.

"No Sybilia, that is all." He dismissed her without even casting a glace in her direction, his eyes never leaving Alice, though the glow within them dampened. Sybilia nearly skipped out the door in her haste. Tarrant finally tore his eyes from Alice to attend to the tea, motioning for her to take a seat at his workbench.

Alice caught sight of Mally glaring at her from her pocket and she made a face at the little mouse, mouthing "FINE!"

"Tarrant." Alice said sweetly, trying to dismiss the tension between them and begin conversations anew. "Wherever is dear Thackery? I remember you always took tea together and I have not seen him…" Alice's voice drifted off when she noticed the pained look etching across Tarrant's features.

"Thackery is… ill." He finally settled on saying, handing Alice her teacup. She felt Mally squirm in her pocket. Alice pressed her hand to her chest, concern written on her face.

"Oh dear I hope it is not serious!" She exclaimed. Tarrant fidgeted with his tea, avoiding her gaze. "Tarrant?" She pressed, "What is his ailment? Is it severe?"

Tarrant shifted in his seat and finally met her gaze. "Well… Old Thackery is quite mad, you see. He is here… in the castle."

"He is here? I should very much like to see him." Alice said.

Tarrant pulled absently at his apron and took a sip of his tea. "I don't think that is a very good idea. Thackery is …well he's best left to his own. The Doctor says it's best you know, for his own safety!" Tarrant's voice raised a bit, as though he were trying to convince his own self as much as Alice. "He is doing everything he can for the old chap but… his madness is quite serious."

"I hardly think of Thackery as anything dangerous." Alice said firmly. "Perhaps seeing an old acquaintance will be of some help!"

"I… I don't think-"

"Tarrant, if you do not take me to him, I shall find my way on my own."

"If you insist."

"I do."

A single wooden chair sat in the center of a large, white marble room marked with only one high window that let the sunlight filter in, casting a single beam of light into the murkiness. Upon the chair sat a figure, humped and slouched as though deflated of life. Alice's heart lumped up in her chest – the sadness was nearly a tangible feeling in the air, hung like a heavy veil. She drew closer to the figure who was sitting with it's back to her. Tarrant stayed behind, near the door. Thin, mottled grey hair covered his head and grew around his rather large, high set ears in fine wisps. Mally peeped from Alice's pocket. Alice crouched down next to the figure, bringing her to his level. His liver spotted hands were in his lap, and she noticed a wooden spoon clutched tightly in one, which she covered with her own.

"Thackery?" She said, her voice little more than a whisper. He stirred in his seat and slowly, slowly lifted his face to hers. Unnaturally large, golden eyes meet her brown ones, studying them. His nose was long and cooked, and his thin mouth turned up into a crooked grin, revealing crooked teeth. He was very much an old man, and very much an old march hare all the same.

"Alice!" He chirped. "THE Alice!" He chirped again. She nodded, smiling but fighting back tears. "You're late fer tea!" He said accusingly.

"I know Thackery, I'm dreadfully late. Can you ever forgive me?" She clutched his hand even tighter. "Tarrant is here as well." She nodded towards the door, and Tarrant stepped forward, nodding to his old friend.

"Thackery." He said, coming into the old man's view. As he did, the old hare's countenance darkened and he twitched in his chair.

"Imposter…" he growled. "Counterfeiter!" He yelled.

"Thackery!" Alice cried, grabbing his arm. Something hard and cold met her hands and to her horror she realized there was a heavy chain wrapped around Thackery's thin frame, binding him to the chair. "Charlatan!" He yelled ferociously, and Tarrant stepped away from him, dismayed. "Ye wicked guttlerscutt!"

"What have you done to him?!" Alice shouted accusingly, grasping Thackery's chains desperately. "You've locked him up like a criminal!"

The door behind them flew open and two husky orderlies dressed in white bustled in.

"I told you not to upset him." One mumbled at Alice, pushing her out of the way as Thackery continued to hurl insults. The other orderly took a glass bottle filled with an ominous yellow liquid from his coat pocket.

"Come now Mr. Thackery, be good and take your medicine." He shoved a large spoonful of thick liquid forcefully in Thackery's mouth.

"Stop that this instant!" Alice screamed, clawing at the orderly's coat and Mally holding on to the edge of her pocket, stabbed him hard in the leg with her pin-sword. The orderly yelped and shoved her away hard, causing her to stumble backwards.

"Alice!" Tarrant cried, grasping her arm and holding her back. She pulled against him, furious. The orderly forced Thackery's mouth closed until the old man was forced to swallow, then he finally let go. Thackery slumped down in his chair, utterly defeated.

"What is this devilry?" Alice said, jerking her arm from Tarrant's grasp and grabbing the bottle. It was made of heavy glass with a tan label pasted on:

Dr. Roux's Elixir

For Clarity of Mind

The orderly grabbed it back. "We all take the medicine, Missy." He jerked his thumb at Tarrant. "Get her out of here." Alice ran a gentle hand along Thackery's brow – he seemed to have fallen into a deep sleep.

"Don't worry old friend" She whispered in his ear. "We'll get you out of this, you'll see."

"Alice wait!" Tarrant ran to keep up with her. "What is happening here? Why did Thackery know you when he doesn't know anyone?"

"Do you really take that elixir every day?" She said without stopping.

"Everyone takes the elixir, it is good medicine for clarity of mind!" Tarrant recited. "Alice-"

"Don't Alice me, Tarrant! How could you let them do that to dear Thackery, your friend!" Tears glistened in her eyes now, threatening to fall. She stormed away from Tarrant but he jumped in front of her, grabbing her arms and stopping her.

"Alice please! I'm just trying to find some logic to all this!? How was it you knew the Tweedles yesterday? And why in Underland is there a mouse with a hat pin in your pocket?!"

Alice finally stopped resisting and glared at Tarrant icily. "Do you remember what Underland was like before the Doctor came? Do you remember anything at all?" She pushed his hands away from her. "He's drugging you all! Don't you see?" She poked him hard in the chest, "Don't take your medicine today, Mr. Hightopp and then tell me what sort of clarity you are thus afforded." She stepped around him, leaving him cold-shouldered and confused in the great white hall.