Title: The Frabjous Day
Author: Sare Liz
Universe: Alice in Wonderland; Tim Burton Movie
Beta: Colleen. She just rocks. And apparently it was the squee heard round the world when I sent it to her. :)
Disclaimer: Were you confused about this? No, it's not mine. Though it's possible that Alice is now in the public domain, I happen to know that Johnny Depp isn't, so let's just say that I'm playing in the sandboxes of others and leave it at that, shall we? More tea?

Rating: M is for momeraths outgabing, miracles, mastectomies, more tea, and of course... mad hatters. Or just the one, in particular.

Chapter Seven: Feasting on Oranges and Elderberry Wine

After a pause to drink some much needed water and peel an orange, Hatter and I retired yet again to our bed. The bed, our bed, where was Hatter's bed? I mean, did he have a home? I seem to recall that the tea party actually took place outside of March's house... At least, I thought so. My memories were so muddled of my time here before, and sharp, clear memories were coming back to me, but not in anything like a flood.

I was sure he must have had a workshop at some point, but when he was a prisoner of the Red Queen, he'd made it sound as if he hadn't worked as a Hatter in some time. I wondered if he'd really just been at tea for all that time. I meant to ask him about this, but he distracted me by delicately placing a single, perfect wedge of orange against my lips.

I opened my mouth and took it from his fingers, all the while looking into his eyes. Even as I slowly chewed my mouthful, I watched as he took a slice and ate it. We devoured the orange ever so slowly, but my attention was never drawn away from his lips.

Before that moment I'd not really taken the time to appreciate his lips. If I had any ability at all, I should want to write an ode to his lips, but of course I don't. They were the same peculiarly delightful shade of fuchsia pink as the dark circles underneath his eyes, and the care-worn cracks of his hands, and yet in every other place on his form, that color was an indicator of how well he had not taken care of himself. His lips, quite to the contrary, were utter perfection. They looked just as soft as they truly were. They were perfectly bow shaped, being neither too thick nor too thin.

And finally I could no longer resist the urge to meet them with mine. Truly, what I wanted to do was lick them and see if I could find any trace of the orange flavor left on the outsides. I decided to indulge myself. A shiver raced down my spine as I did so, because I could taste the orange. We started on our sides, but I pushed at his shoulder and rolled we two until I sat astride him in what might have been a most scandalous manner, had it occurred anywhere outside of our bedroom, which I have to admit I had briefly considered in the bath. What would it be like, for instance, to share our passions outside at the open air tea party? Obviously this would occur when March and Mannyumpkin were not around. Could we do this as he sat in the wingback chair, or would one of the others be better? Possibly both?

Still, we were not outside just at the moment. We were in the White Queen's palace, making the most of the quarters I had been given and the exceedingly comfortable bed that said quarters boasted.

Hatter groaned when I settled back on him, sitting up properly with such posture that might have made my mother proud, had she known, and had it been displayed in a different situation with more clothes involved. I smiled to feel his hands stroking my body, first my thighs, then my hips, the small of my back, my chest. I sat there, drinking him in as well.

So, so beautiful.

And quite suddenly I moved again. It was utterly urgent in that moment that I taste him. All of him. He had done quite a bit of exploring of my body, after all, and certainly I was due my turn. I did not truly think he would object, but neither did I ask permission. Still, his groans and sighs told me what I needed to know. His arms, his hands, his chest, his abdomen, it was all fair game to me. Indeed, it was as if his body had just been declared open ground in which I and only I could hunt. I was hunting for his groans and his moans and I paid particular attention to those moments when I found them. I marked those spots in my mind for further study.

And then there was his Madness. I let my fingers explore his length all over again and all over again I marveled. The skin was so soft, and yet the appendage was so very stiff. As I pulled and stroked, I couldn't help but be fascinated by how he was constructed. As I stroked down, his skin would shift and the most delightfully peaked crown would emerge from the circular flap of skin that normally encompassed it. That tip looked so succulent, so juicy that I could actually sense myself salivating, which made no sense at all. I was not sitting down to supper, after all. Still, if Hatter could put his mouth on me in all sorts of otherwise forbidden areas, then I could certainly just take a little taste.

Elderberries. And the moment I found that out, with just the tip of my tongue, mind, I heard his very sharp intake of breath and then nothing. His entire body was tense, but I don't believe he was breathing anymore. I looked up to see if I had done something terribly wrong - or perhaps terribly right - and his expression looked tortured. I still couldn't tell if he liked it or not.

"Tarrant?" I asked softly, not having removed my lips so very far from him that I'm sure he could feel the air move. I held him firmly in one hand and rubbed his hip as I waited for some sort of response I could understand.

I watched as his entire frame shuddered.

"Don't... stop..." was his soft whisper. "Don't... ever... stop..."

I smiled at him, then, and kept his gaze as I darted my tongue out to taste him again. I watched in fascination as his eyes rolled back into his head and his breathing increased. I looked back down toward my explorations after that, however. Licking, kissing, nibbling all up and down the thick length of him took quite a lot of time, as I wanted to miss nothing. There were all sorts of interesting ridges and things and it did so bring such delight to him. My exploration of the sack behind was almost as fruitful. It really was a funny thing. It seemed as if there were two very sensitive balls inside the furry container. I amused myself for quite some time, holding them gently and moving them in my hand.

"Alice, love," Hatter groaned out whilst I was still having my amusements. "Do something for me?" His tone was pinched and strained and I wondered if perhaps I shouldn't be having quite so much fun. I wondered if perhaps this wasn't quite as enjoyable for him as I'd thought.

"Anything at all, Tarrant. Name it." I took my hands away from him and sat up on my heels.

"Oh, no, no, no, don't go away. Come back here, just as you were."

I did as he asked and felt his hands rubbing the tops of my shoulders as I lay my chin on his hip. I watched him, propped slightly up on the pillows. He caught his breath and spoke again.

"I would like for you to take those beautiful lips and wrap them around the tip of my Madness. Suck him inside of you. Let your tongue swirl and dance. Will you try that?"

I grinned at him. "And here I was thinking you didn't want me to touch you any longer."

He started to say something, but I was quickly upon him.

Elderberries. Tarrant tasted of elderberries. His skin did, of course and faintly, but it was ever so much stronger here. I sucked and swirled and Hatter's groans were loud now, the loudest I'd heard from him yet, and they filled the room.

"Alice, Alice!" His fingers kneaded my shoulders and I hummed happily in response, thrilled to be able to give this to him. "Oh, yes, yes, yes! So close! Harder, just a little..." And then his groans were indistinct again, not words at all, but loud emanations of his delirious passion. His body was rigid then, and the Madness twitched and suddenly my mouth was filled with a thick elderberry wine which I eagerly swallowed. It was as well I did so, because the Madness released very quickly first one mouthful, then another, then another. I felt greedy, to be swallowing anything so quickly as all of that, but there was little alternative. I just took it for granted that Hatter would not look down on me for having bad manners, given the state of bliss he was in just now.

Soon enough the Madness became too sensitive and Hatter pulled me up toward him. stretched out at his side, snug up next to him, our arms and legs all wrapped up in one another, my head on his pillow.

"Tarrant," I started quietly.

"Hmm?" His eyes were closed and I wondered if he was falling asleep.

"I think I love you."

"When you make up your mind, let me know," he said softly.

Though he was breathing deeply and seemed every bit as boneless and relaxed as I had been when he'd finished with me, he also seemed quite aware and not nearing slumber as I had previously thought. After many long moments, I felt his left hand stroking me side.

"Darling," I started softly. "What has happened to your thumb?"

Hatter drew out his right thumb and looked at it, turning it about, and I could see very plainly that there was nothing significantly disturbed about it. "Much the same as it ever was. Why do you ask?"

"Your other thumb, Hatter."

"Oh, yes. Quite." He held up his left hand that, along with sporting two thimbles on the tips of fingers, also held a miraculously clean looking bandage on his thumb that I know he'd gotten wet twice, but was now curiously dry. His fingernails seemed less yellowed than before, I noted. "It was that day," he said, refusing to use the compendium's name for the day. "The day the Bloody Big Head broke up our party, overthrew the White Queen. She burned our houses. She killed most of the Hightopp clan. She broke my thumb. I think the cards were going for my whole hand, but there's incompetence for you. If they'd known what they were about, they would have tried to take out my right hand. Bloody idiots."

Without realizing it, I found myself caressing him, his chest, his hand. I was horrified. The Hightopp clan. He'd mentioned them before. It... it must have been his family. Tarrant Hightopp - that would be his name. And his entire family had been murdered by the Red Queen. No wonder he'd lost his composure when I'd reminded him of it while he was still her prisoner, and yet happily working at his craft. Perhaps he hasn't worked since that day. Perhaps he didn't have a house, or a workshop after all. How could he have done so if he'd always been at Tea?

"You... I... but that was so long ago. Why do you still wear it? Is it not healed?"

"For long and even longer, no, it was not healed. But I think perhaps now, it is beginning to do just that."

I got the impression that he wasn't only talking about his hand.

"Many things are changing, are they not?" I asked.

"They are indeed, my Alice. They are, indeed."

The End.