And He Hoped - Part 1
I don't own Alice in Wonderland or any of its characters. Based on the 2010 Tim Burton film.
Rated M for explicit adult content.
I extend a heart-felt Thank You to my wonderful friend and Beta-Reader, Wanderamaranth. This story is all the better because of her. :)
Tarrant dreams that Alice came to him, but it felt so real that he begins to wonder if it had been more than just a dream...
This is a Companion Piece to "And She Knew." This story is based on the following lyrics from the song "Hallelujah" written by Leonard Cohen and sung by Rufus Wainwright.
This story is dedicated to Paradisical.
"And she tied you to her kitchen chair
She broke your throne and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew your Hallelujah"
And He Hoped
Her face inevitably coalesced in his mind upon waking. Her image taunted him every day; her visage was imprinted upon the insides of his eyelids as he drifted off to sleep each night.
When was she coming back? Would she return? She had promised. She had promised that she would do Things and answer Questions and then be Back before he knew it.
"Alice," Tarrant sighed, sagging onto his settee. He closed his eyes and allowed her image to form once more in his tormented mind. Surely she wouldn't have lied to him!
His eyes snapped open at the very thought. "Nay!" he shouted. "Don't even think such a thing, laddie!"
The Hatter was furious with himself. No, he shouldn't doubt Alice; now or ever. He had seen the pained look in her eyes as she had faded from his sight that wonderful and awful day. He had felt the palpable sadness lingering in the space where she had been before she vanished like mist. He remembered his hands reaching for her, fingers flexing hopefully, but meeting only air; but not entirely empty air. His eyes saw nothing, but his hands felt...something. Relief, longing, regret, optimism, dread, anticipation, and sorrow seeped through his battered hands and into his heart and brain. All of those feelings were tinged with a gilded golden edge of Promise.
Yes, she would return; it was just a matter of when.
Tarrant Hightopp removed his hat, coat, vest, and shoes, then settled his lean frame carefully across the settee. Resting the side of his face against its faded burgundy velvet as his eyelids languidly drifted closed, he rubbed his cheek against the fabric, imagining that it was Alice's soft cheek against his. He allowed himself a small, hopeful smile as Sleep gathered him into her arms, allowing Underland to grant him a boon.
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"Tarrant?" The Hatter's eyelashes fluttered uncertainly at the sound of his given name. Had someone really uttered it, or were the tricky Voices teasing him again?
"Tarrant? It's me!" The Voice whispered to him once more, and it was a distinctly lovely, low, and breathy female voice. It sounded like...
"It's me, Tarrant! It's Alice!"
Tarrant bolted upright and his head painfully struck something. He cried out simultaneously along with the female personage whose head his happened to strike.
Suddenly he was eye to eye with Alice, and both were clutching their heads and staring at each other, baffled. Then they burst into peals of laughter, rubbing their foreheads. Alice composed herself first and playfully seized Tarrant's hands and clutched them in her warm grasp.
"It's so good to see you, Tarrant!" she said, blushing as her laughter subsided. Her eyes retained a humorous sparkle, however, and her Muchness shone forth like beacon of joy.
"How did you get here?" Tarrant asked, pulling their joined hands to his lips and placed several kisses along her knuckles quickly before his courage could fail him. Oh, yes, his courage could easily fail him, especially since the lovely lass was in her night-gown! He tried to not let his eyes betray any Bad thoughts. After all, he did not wish to frighten her. He wanted her to stay. Had she woken from a bad dream and come to him? Is that why she was not fully and properly clothed?
Her pale brow furrowed in thought. "I...I don't know, Tarrant. I don't remember." She pulled her hands away but Tarrant recaptured them and pulled them to his breast. He didn't want her to be afraid, and she was beginning to look quite like she was about to be.
"Hush, dearest," he whispered, kissing her knuckles again and then rubbing them against his cheek. Yes, she was real! He felt the warm flesh of her hand and nothing had ever felt so real and so right. No, she was not an illusion!
"You are here now, with me, and that's all that matters." Yes, she was here, and she must believe it as well, else they would...what? Something very unwanted would happen...don't think about it!
And here it was at last! After waiting for what seemed an interminable length of time for her return, he finally saw the smile he had been longing to see. Her smile; her softly pink, slightly shy, but utterly heart-felt smile of delight. That perfect Alice Smile enveloped him in a cloak of happiness and contentment that he had never felt before.
He liked it. He liked it and he knew that with this one taste, he never wanted to leave its embrace ever again.
"Yes," Alice murmured, "I'm here now, and that's all that matters. I've missed you so!" Her eyes misted with tears and her lips quivered slightly. "I'm really here, aren't I?"
Tarrant rose and pulled her night-gown clad form into his arms. He hugged her so tightly that he feared crushing her, but his angel did not resist or complain! In fact, she returned his embrace with equal ferocity.
"Yes, you are really here!" he said against the top of her head, mussing her delightfully tousled hair with his eager lips. "You are really, truly here, Alice!"
"I have a feeling that we mustn't think over-much," she said, pulling back to look into his eyes. "I think we are supposed to treasure every moment and not waste a single one!"
Tarrant cocked his head in thought. Her words were odd, yet felt eerily correct. Perhaps she...no! Don't think! If you think on it she'll disappear!
Tarrant knew when to heed Voices and when to ignore them. Usually. This time he was certain that he should heed this Voice.
"Alice," he said, forcing his Muchness to surface and aid him, "I must tell you something! However, I fear that you may take offence. That is, I fear that you may not truly believe me, and I cannot have that. You are so dear to me and I would never, ever, risk our friendship..."
"Tarrant," she said, firmly placing a fingertip over his lips, "it's all right, whatever it is. Please, just tell me!" Her blue-silver eyes bored into his (certainly) emerald green ones. Alice added a bit of honey to her gentle coaxing with another smile. "Please?"
Oh, his heart would surely burst! Could it be? Was this sudden feeling of almost-certain-knowledge that was uncoiling inside his mind telling him the truth?
Tarrant found himself desperately wanting to stall for just a few more moments. Being almost certain was not the same as being Absolutely Certain. He released Alice from their hug, (reluctantly, of course!) and gently pulled her by her hand toward the kitchen. Tea and cookies are always a good prelude or solution for anything. Well, almost anything. What if... Don't think!
"Tea?" he asked her as they stood before his pantry.
"In a few minutes, perhaps," Alice said, her cheeks flushed and dimpling. "I want to hear what you have to say, first!"
Tarrant's hands shook and he felt his (damned traitorous!) Courage begin to desert him. After all, this was Alice! This wasthe Alice! This was the most extraordinary woman in all existence! He was just a Hatter, and one a few cards short of a deck, at that.
"Tarrant!" Alice shifted to stand before him. Her body was so close to his that he felt her absolutely unmistakable feminine heat. She seemed unaware that she was quite indecently and improperly garbed. She was fully covered, true, but still...she was in her night clothes!
He still hadn't answered her question, and she deserved an answer. But, how could he speak to her and keep his traitorous eyes from wandering her form? That would be highly improper, and Alice would be quite put out! So, how was he to speak? Should he turn his back, avert his gaze, or...
"Tarrant, it's all right!" Alabaster hands suddenly cupped his flaming cheeks and azure eyes mesmerized him. Tarrant's Courage halted its flight and stood hesitantly beside him.
"Tarrant, you can tell me anything, you know." Her voice was gently compelling and vanilla sweet; not sweet with the sometimes Platitudes the White Queen would speak, but sweet with promise and naked sincerity.
His Courage wavered, then slipped back into his quivering frame, steadying him.
He swallowed.
"Alice, I love you," he said simply. He closed his eyes, unable to utilize enough of his recently returned Courage to watch her expression. "I don't know how long I've loved you, but it has been for a very long time. I've been quite miserable without you."
"I know." Her response whispered against his cheek, heating it further. Soft lips moved to his ear. "I love you, too, Tarrant, and I've been quite as miserable as you, I think. That's why I'm here. I was too unhappy to stay away any longer."
His eyes opened and saw her settle down from her tip-toes. Had he heard her correctly? He thought he must have, for a small smile curved her lips and her eyes were bright.
Without consciously willing it, his hand went to her cheek and cupped it. Alice leaned into his calloused palm and closed her eyes. She inhaled his scent and Tarrant's knees went weak. Such an intimate gesture! She wanted not only to feel him, but smell him!
Courage now being fully utilized, Tarrant pulled her against him and her face tilted upwards. The entire world slowed as he lowered his mouth to hers. When their lips finally met an eternity later, a wave of pure warmth and comfort and loving blanketed him. Peach-vanilla flesh moved beneath his lips and he eagerly returned her tentative exploration.
The hard little buttons of her night-dress pressed into his chest in a most disagreeable manner, but they were a minor irritation that he would soon remove. Right now he wanted to taste her, every inch of her if he could, beginning with her mouth.
How did he suddenly go from barely being able to bring himself to kiss her to wanting to ravish her? Was her sweet confession all he had needed to hear? Alice loved him! Were the thoughts still Bad? No, they couldn't be, for Alice didn't seem to mind. In fact, if her kisses her any indication, she wanted him as badly as he wanted her!
Her Alice-passion began to rise and cloak him along with the other wonderful sensations already seeping into his very being. Tarrant was only mildly surprised when she opened her mouth to invite his tongue inside.
He plunged it into her moist depths, probably too quickly and forcefully, but he had been unable to help himself. He tried to draw back a little, to rectify his error, but a soft chuckle vibrated across his lips and her hands twined into his mussed hair to keep his head just where it was.
Her curious little tongue sliding along his was bold now, and its movements certain. Alice wanted to explore his mouth, but he wanted to explore hers first! A gentle battle for dominance began, but, in an attempt to be a gentleman, Tarrant allowed her to win this first round.
He felt Alice's tongue slowly slide along his lips, tickling them and almost making him giggle, before gliding along his teeth. When she poked the tip between his gap, she was the one to giggle, but quickly recovered her poise and foraged further. Tarrant could almost hear a quill scratching on the parchment inside her mind, taking notes of how he felt and tasted, what made him groan and gasp, and an especially furious scribbling was what finally drove him to pull her lower body closer to his and allow her to feel his arousal.
He knew he should be embarrassed by the Shameless evidence of his desire pressing against her soft belly, but her own responding movements against him nullified that idea at once. She was welcoming him! All of him!
Tarrant now demanded her surrender and the kiss became his. He explored her sweet little cave, thoroughly investigating each smooth tooth and moist crevasse. Her tongue allowed his to slide over and around it and soon she was moaning along with him as her hips involuntarily bucked against his arousal.
Suddenly she broke the kiss and tilted her head back, exposing her neck.
"Tarrant, please!"
Her gasp of trust and surrender was his undoing. It was also the beginning of the end of her night-gown.
Tarrant's body was uncomfortably yet deliciously warm as he pressed open-mouthed kisses to her throat. As he sucked and nipped the delicate flesh there, trying to resist the urge to Mark her. His bare hands (when had his bandages disappeared?) fumbled with the buttons of that travesty of a garment she wore. The tiny buttons stubbornly resisted his desperate onslaught and remained firmly fastened inside their frumious little holes.
"Oh, Tarrant, just get rid of it!"
Had she really said that? Tarrant replayed her words in his mind, picking up and resetting the needle of the phonograph of speech that resided in his mind. And there were her words, echoing once more. She had! She had indeed given him permission to remove the barrier between their bodies!
"Away with it, aye!" he growled against the soft flesh beneath her ear. His hands rent the fabric and the tiny buttons flew aside with protests that he cheerfully ignored as they struck the walls, counter-top, chairs and table. Yes! It was gone! But...sod it! There was now her chemise and bloomers. It seemed he had more to battle before she would be beautifully bare.