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akainagiIf I Should, Before I Wake (or The Only Good Idea Hamish Ascot Ever Had)
Author: AkaiNagi
Rating: G
Summary: Another take on the famous Balcony Scene
The night sky from the balcony of the Castle at Marmoreal seemed a blanket of stars stretching to forever. How normal and beautiful a sky it looks, thought Alice. Shouldn’t the sky look dark and ominous on the eve of a battle? “Frabjous Day,” Alice sighed. “How could I forget? I wish I’d wake up.”
“You still believe this is a dream, do you?”
“Of course,” Alice replied to the bemused Hatter, trying to project a confidence she wasn’t quite sure she felt anymore. “This has all come from my own mind.”
The Hatter’s pleasant expression contorted into a face so forlorn, Alice wished she could take her statement back. “Which would mean that I’m not real.”
Why did that thought cause such a great gaping emptiness in her breast. “I’m afraid so,” Alice told him. “You’re just a figment of my imagination.” She smiled, trying to lighten the heavy mood. “I would dream up someone who’s half mad.”
It worked. The smile appeared to be contagious, lighting up the Hatter’s own face momentarily. “Yes, yes. But you would have to be half mad to dream me up,” he pointed out.
Alice chuckled. “I must be then.” She must be mad, with the thoughts that were swirling in her head. Part of her indeed did want to wake; to return to her safe, predictable life. But another part of her wanted to dream forever, wanted to stay in this mad land with this mad and wonderful man she had found; a man so unlike any she had ever known. A lump rose in her throat. “I shall miss you when I wake up.”
“I shall miss me too,” the Hatter said sadly. “But of course I shall miss you as well,” he quickly added. “Especially since you’re finally the right size. And finally found your muchness. I should have liked to have made you a hat at least once. One you could wear to afternoon tea. I know exactly what it should look like. Large, but not too large. With ribbons, but not too many. Blue, but not too blue –“
“Hatter.”
“You would look altogether grand in it, if I do say so myself-“
“Hatter!”
“It would have been a hat fit for a Champion –“
Alice took his face in her hands. “Shush,” she ordered.
“Fez … I’m fine.” And he came back to himself, but still Alice could not bring herself to take her hands away.
For she was contemplating something far more scandalous than going without corsets or stockings. Something far more daring that picturing women in trousers and men in frocks. And before she realized it, contemplating had become doing. Rising up on her toes, she slowly brought her lips to the Hatter’s own.
His eyes widened in surprise before closing in bliss. He brought one bandaged, work-roughened hand to thread through Alice’s mass of curls. The other he rested on her waist, as if to keep her there. And where would she go, Alice mused, when there was nowhere in all the worlds she would rather be than right here at this moment.
The kiss seemed to go on for an eternity yet was over far too soon.
Tarrant opened his mouth to speak, but was stopped by one of Alice’s fingers on his lips. On impulse, he kissed the tip of her finger.
Alice stepped into him, and he welcomed her into the circle of his arms. Her head resting on his chest, his bandaged hand stroking her hair, they both gazed out at the night sky, neither saying a word, lest they break the spell that had been woven by that single kiss.
When in doubt, silence.
Author: AkaiNagi
Rating: G
Summary: Another take on the famous Balcony Scene
The night sky from the balcony of the Castle at Marmoreal seemed a blanket of stars stretching to forever. How normal and beautiful a sky it looks, thought Alice. Shouldn’t the sky look dark and ominous on the eve of a battle? “Frabjous Day,” Alice sighed. “How could I forget? I wish I’d wake up.”
“You still believe this is a dream, do you?”
“Of course,” Alice replied to the bemused Hatter, trying to project a confidence she wasn’t quite sure she felt anymore. “This has all come from my own mind.”
The Hatter’s pleasant expression contorted into a face so forlorn, Alice wished she could take her statement back. “Which would mean that I’m not real.”
Why did that thought cause such a great gaping emptiness in her breast. “I’m afraid so,” Alice told him. “You’re just a figment of my imagination.” She smiled, trying to lighten the heavy mood. “I would dream up someone who’s half mad.”
It worked. The smile appeared to be contagious, lighting up the Hatter’s own face momentarily. “Yes, yes. But you would have to be half mad to dream me up,” he pointed out.
Alice chuckled. “I must be then.” She must be mad, with the thoughts that were swirling in her head. Part of her indeed did want to wake; to return to her safe, predictable life. But another part of her wanted to dream forever, wanted to stay in this mad land with this mad and wonderful man she had found; a man so unlike any she had ever known. A lump rose in her throat. “I shall miss you when I wake up.”
“I shall miss me too,” the Hatter said sadly. “But of course I shall miss you as well,” he quickly added. “Especially since you’re finally the right size. And finally found your muchness. I should have liked to have made you a hat at least once. One you could wear to afternoon tea. I know exactly what it should look like. Large, but not too large. With ribbons, but not too many. Blue, but not too blue –“
“Hatter.”
“You would look altogether grand in it, if I do say so myself-“
“Hatter!”
“It would have been a hat fit for a Champion –“
Alice took his face in her hands. “Shush,” she ordered.
“Fez … I’m fine.” And he came back to himself, but still Alice could not bring herself to take her hands away.
For she was contemplating something far more scandalous than going without corsets or stockings. Something far more daring that picturing women in trousers and men in frocks. And before she realized it, contemplating had become doing. Rising up on her toes, she slowly brought her lips to the Hatter’s own.
His eyes widened in surprise before closing in bliss. He brought one bandaged, work-roughened hand to thread through Alice’s mass of curls. The other he rested on her waist, as if to keep her there. And where would she go, Alice mused, when there was nowhere in all the worlds she would rather be than right here at this moment.
The kiss seemed to go on for an eternity yet was over far too soon.
Tarrant opened his mouth to speak, but was stopped by one of Alice’s fingers on his lips. On impulse, he kissed the tip of her finger.
Alice stepped into him, and he welcomed her into the circle of his arms. Her head resting on his chest, his bandaged hand stroking her hair, they both gazed out at the night sky, neither saying a word, lest they break the spell that had been woven by that single kiss.
When in doubt, silence.
