Rating: T for future fluff, may venture into M territory... we'll see.
Description: Alice longs for the day she can return to her Hatter. But what if his reaction isn't what she expected?
AN: Okay, so there are a TON of great AliceXHatter fics out there, and I love them all; I have a bunch of them faved and on alert. Go read them. After reading this of course, lol. Not entirely sure where this plot bunny is taking me, it's being all secretive (like keeping secrets, not like secreting a fluid - ew) but it's threatening to bite my ankles off if I don't follow it. So here goes!
Tarrant Hightopp, the Mad Hatter of Underland, was NOT in love with Alice Kingsleigh. Really. He couldn't be. He'd only seen her on two occasions, one of them while she was a young child. He barely knew her; he didn't know her favorite color, food, or type of music, nor did he know her hopes and dreams for the future. Sure, they had been through a lot in their short time of association, but that was hardly enough to build such a strong emotion of love upon. Did he enjoy her company? Definately. Did he deeply respect her muchness? Of course. Did he find her attractive? Well, if he was being truly honest, then yes, he found her to be one of the most beautiful creatures he'd ever laid eyes on. But he was NOT in love with her.
This is what the Hatter told himself for the umpteenth time, as he made the slow march from the battlefield back to the White Queen's castle. He had been asked time and time again if he was alright, after Alice's sudden departure, by everyone from the Queen herself to Mellyumkin. Even the Bandersnatch groaned lightly and nuzzled against him in a comforting way. It was getting annoying, really; they'd all treated him like some poor, heart-broken wreck. Of course he was disappointed, but he hadn't really been surprised. Alice had a life in the Otherworld. Who was he to expect her to leave it all behind? And yet... he had asked. Why? It bothered him slightly, because he truthfully didn't know.
Alice laughed quietly to herself as she lay in bed. She was recounting the day's events, particularly those following her return from Wonder... no, Underland. She had told everyone what she truly thought of them, before doing the best Fudderwhacken she could manage (with her limited human range of motion). She had told Hamish that he wasn't the man for her, and this was true. Only one man was right for Alice Kingsleigh... Alice's smile fell. When he had told her she could stay, she was thrilled. Did he really want her? But then she had thought of her family, and all that was left unfinished. She had to go back, to face her fears, or forever call herself a coward.
He had looked disappointed, but not surprised; Alice hoped that meant he understood. She told him she'd be back, to which he'd replied she wouldn't remember him. A ridiculous notion, how could she possibly forget? But then Alice realized, she HAD forgotten him, after the first time. But she'd been young then, and convinced it had all been a dream. Now that she knew the truth, she was determined not to forget. Especially now, when she would need his memory to bolster her "muchness" as he called it, for her next adventure.
Alice had agreed to become an apprentice to Lord Ascot, and plans had already been set in motion for a voyage to China later that same month. Alice had plans of her own, as well; a secret plan for the remainder of her life in Otherworld, which she didn't expect to be long. She longed for the day when she could return to Underland, to her friends, and to her precious Hatter. Soon, she thought to herself. I must get my affairs in order first, and see that my family is well taken care of. And my fathers dreams WILL be realized, sure as I am his daughter. That night, Alice drifted to sleep with a smile on her lips, and visions of orange hair and green eyes on her mind.
An immeasurable distance away, Tarrant was also settling down for the night. He had gracefully declined the invitation to that night's celebration, using exhaustion as an excuse. It was half-true; the battle had taken a great deal of energy, physical and otherwise. But more than that, the Hatter was tired of being asked if he was alright every five minutes. Why couldn't they let it be? Again and again he'd told whoever was asking that he was perfectly fine, or at least as fine as a mad hatter could be. But now that he was alone, emotions did begin to flow, the shock of the day wearing off. But instead of despair, as everyone assumed, Tarrant felt wave after wave of relief, pride, and joy that his clan had finally been avenged. He felt he had brought honor to the Hightopp name, and peace to those souls torn apart by the Jabberwocky.
The Hatter hung his claymore above the mantle, where it belonged, before sinking heavily into his armchair. His body felt like lead, heavily weighed down with exhaustion, but his spirit felt like flying; it was an odd, confused feeling, and Tarrant laughed giddily. After a while, his thoughts did stray to Alice. He felt such a deep respect and gratitude for her. He wished they'd had more time together; having only been to Underland twice, there was so much she didn't know about its inhabitants, its history, its culture and customs. He would have loved to show her everything Underland had to offer. The Hatter allowed his mind to picture what it would be like, if Alice had stayed. He saw them having endless fun at tea, or exploring the forests. He would take her to the sea, or to the Queens library, to show her the ages of Underland literature. At night the two of them would sit by the fire, him telling her stories from his world's history. Tarrant could see it so clearly, the two of them growing to be the closest friends. Perhaps one day he'd ask if he could court her. Perhaps even... The Hatter looked around, but being his house, naturally he was alone. Well, thoughts are just that. No harm in thinking about what might have been.
Tarrant looked at his pocket watch before yawning. He stretched as he stood, before heading to his bedroom, pushing all thoughts of Alice from his mind. However, a pile of blue fabric on his dresser caught his eye; it was Alice's dress that she'd grown too small for (an oxymoron, the Hatter thought, amused). He picked it up, running his fingers over it carefully. It really was a lovely fabric, light blue with navy stripes, made of something soft and silky. Tarrant couldn't wait to use it in a hat. He yawned again, dropped the fabric back where it had been, and undressed for bed. His mind was already trying to match a design to the fabric, but as soon as head met pillow, all was quiet inside and out. Or rather, as quiet as possible for a mad hatter.