ext_57015 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
la-victorienne.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
alicehatter2009-12-27 03:50 pm
la-victorienne.livejournal.com) wrote in alicehatter2009-12-27 03:50 pm
Entry tags:
will there still be dancing? (1/1)
title: will there still be dancing?
rating: pg-13
pairing: alice/hatter
spoilers: all
disclaimer: do i give credit to lewis carroll or nick willing? either way, they're not mine.
writer's note: it's been a little while, but i've been finding the ending to this. i think i've found it - after all, we know what happens next.
summary: He might not know exactly how he feels, but he knows something: Alice is no ordinary Oyster.
It doesn't take long for him to figure out that he wants her.
Yes, she's beautiful in a way he's never seen before; yes, she's strong-willed and defiant, and he likes that about her; yes, she is very, very wet. But all of those would be moot if it weren't for the fact that she still doesn't trust him, and he finds himself straining to prove his worth to her – which, in turn, means he wants her to do more than just trust him when this is all over.
And yes, he fucks up, bringing her to Dodo. He can hardly believe that fat bag of bones nearly got the best of him, but when he feels his body pushed back by the force of the bullet, he knows – he's in serious trouble with this girl. He didn't even have to think about standing in front of the gun, he just did, which means the way he feels about her is a lot more complicated than he thought. He wants her, and he genuinely likes her, and he might be losing it, but he thinks he might even enjoy how easily she sees through him. No-one in Wonderland ever holds him accountable the way she does, nor has he ever cared so much for someone else's opinion. He wants to be near her forever, he wants to jump through the Looking Glass with her, he wants to throw the rest of Wonderland to hell if he can just spend a few more moments being castigated by her, and he's aware of how moronic he sounds.
It also might have a little something to do with how fantastic she looks in his coat.
And her legs.
It really hits him, though, when they're sitting around the fire with Charlie, and it's quiet. For somebody who talks a lot, he's always found a strange sort of value in the people you can be silent with, and between the crackle of the flames and Charlie's soft snoring, the forest is noisy enough without their words. She's staring off into the distance, thinking about Jack, probably, and the look on her face is so concentrated and unguarded – he feels a sudden, intense urge to punch this guy Jack, whoever he is, and not with his left hand.
"Jack's a lucky guy," he says.
"What?" Her defiance sends a thrill down his spine, followed by a deep sense of sorrow.
"Nothing," he replies. Nothing at all.
Because he's from Wonderland, isn't he; his emotions are much too pale to compare with any of hers. He's a con man and a cheat, and everybody here knows it – he doesn't deserve such a good, law-abiding, principled girl, whether she's in love with another man or not. He thinks about the glow on her arm, the strength of the green, her ivory skin. What better way to mark the Oysters than by reminding everyone in Wonderland how much they're depended on.
How much he depends on them.
How much, if he's honest, he depends on her.
He goes to bed thinking that he's as mad as Mad March (and that had to be him, it just had to be, though the last Hatter heard, March was without a head – not by the queen's doing, no, but headless all the same – was that a cookie jar? it had looked like a cookie jar), and madder than Charlie, and that it'll sort itself out in the morning. But in the morning, she's gone, and he has absolutely no idea what to do without her.
The last time he remembers feeling like this, she was tall and blonde with legs to her chin, and she'd gone into the casino and never come out. For all he knows, she's in there still – but it doesn't matter. Alice is who he's after, and if that hasn't changed yet, it isn't likely to change now. He digs his heels into Guinevere's side, because it's all he has left – she's all he has left. He might be madder than Charlie on Opposite Day, but as he rides full force into the mouth of the dragon, he knows that he's doing this for her. Because of the way he feels about her.
Because of the way he feels.
It is strange, that her leaving him is what makes him feel more strongly than any given Oyster. That loss is the emotion that tugs at his heartstrings, that the hope of what could be is stronger than the knowledge of what is. This must be what it feels like to live on the Other Side.
After that, everything feels like he's flying high on Invincibility, sure to succeed. He hardly breathes before they're at the doors, inside the casino, hurdling the stairs, flying past the receptionist (in fact named Sheila), and into the room, into the room where she is, into the room where she is. He holds out his arms to catch her, and the collision of their bodies is a far brighter pain than any false joy.
It all comes crashing down, of course, when she tells him who her Jack really is.
Because he knows he'll take down the house of cards before he lets her go.
He finds it ironic, that he does just that.
When the Queen is overthrown and Alice's father is gone, when Jack has his arm around a pretty girl who looks just this side of familiar, when Charlie has been found and safely sent to the Library, when the Oysters are lined up, he still can't bring himself to go to the Looking Glass chamber. He sits among the shattered fragments of the Tea Shop, drinking out of a chipped teacup and glowering. He has learned so many new emotions in so few hours. When she's gone, all he'll have left to do is catalog them.
When she's gone.
Her absence is the strongest feeling of all, a tangible ache, a part of him missing, something that should be there. He drops the teacup on his way out the door, ignoring the pieces where they fall.
rating: pg-13
pairing: alice/hatter
spoilers: all
disclaimer: do i give credit to lewis carroll or nick willing? either way, they're not mine.
writer's note: it's been a little while, but i've been finding the ending to this. i think i've found it - after all, we know what happens next.
summary: He might not know exactly how he feels, but he knows something: Alice is no ordinary Oyster.
It doesn't take long for him to figure out that he wants her.
Yes, she's beautiful in a way he's never seen before; yes, she's strong-willed and defiant, and he likes that about her; yes, she is very, very wet. But all of those would be moot if it weren't for the fact that she still doesn't trust him, and he finds himself straining to prove his worth to her – which, in turn, means he wants her to do more than just trust him when this is all over.
And yes, he fucks up, bringing her to Dodo. He can hardly believe that fat bag of bones nearly got the best of him, but when he feels his body pushed back by the force of the bullet, he knows – he's in serious trouble with this girl. He didn't even have to think about standing in front of the gun, he just did, which means the way he feels about her is a lot more complicated than he thought. He wants her, and he genuinely likes her, and he might be losing it, but he thinks he might even enjoy how easily she sees through him. No-one in Wonderland ever holds him accountable the way she does, nor has he ever cared so much for someone else's opinion. He wants to be near her forever, he wants to jump through the Looking Glass with her, he wants to throw the rest of Wonderland to hell if he can just spend a few more moments being castigated by her, and he's aware of how moronic he sounds.
It also might have a little something to do with how fantastic she looks in his coat.
And her legs.
It really hits him, though, when they're sitting around the fire with Charlie, and it's quiet. For somebody who talks a lot, he's always found a strange sort of value in the people you can be silent with, and between the crackle of the flames and Charlie's soft snoring, the forest is noisy enough without their words. She's staring off into the distance, thinking about Jack, probably, and the look on her face is so concentrated and unguarded – he feels a sudden, intense urge to punch this guy Jack, whoever he is, and not with his left hand.
"Jack's a lucky guy," he says.
"What?" Her defiance sends a thrill down his spine, followed by a deep sense of sorrow.
"Nothing," he replies. Nothing at all.
Because he's from Wonderland, isn't he; his emotions are much too pale to compare with any of hers. He's a con man and a cheat, and everybody here knows it – he doesn't deserve such a good, law-abiding, principled girl, whether she's in love with another man or not. He thinks about the glow on her arm, the strength of the green, her ivory skin. What better way to mark the Oysters than by reminding everyone in Wonderland how much they're depended on.
How much he depends on them.
How much, if he's honest, he depends on her.
He goes to bed thinking that he's as mad as Mad March (and that had to be him, it just had to be, though the last Hatter heard, March was without a head – not by the queen's doing, no, but headless all the same – was that a cookie jar? it had looked like a cookie jar), and madder than Charlie, and that it'll sort itself out in the morning. But in the morning, she's gone, and he has absolutely no idea what to do without her.
The last time he remembers feeling like this, she was tall and blonde with legs to her chin, and she'd gone into the casino and never come out. For all he knows, she's in there still – but it doesn't matter. Alice is who he's after, and if that hasn't changed yet, it isn't likely to change now. He digs his heels into Guinevere's side, because it's all he has left – she's all he has left. He might be madder than Charlie on Opposite Day, but as he rides full force into the mouth of the dragon, he knows that he's doing this for her. Because of the way he feels about her.
Because of the way he feels.
It is strange, that her leaving him is what makes him feel more strongly than any given Oyster. That loss is the emotion that tugs at his heartstrings, that the hope of what could be is stronger than the knowledge of what is. This must be what it feels like to live on the Other Side.
After that, everything feels like he's flying high on Invincibility, sure to succeed. He hardly breathes before they're at the doors, inside the casino, hurdling the stairs, flying past the receptionist (in fact named Sheila), and into the room, into the room where she is, into the room where she is. He holds out his arms to catch her, and the collision of their bodies is a far brighter pain than any false joy.
It all comes crashing down, of course, when she tells him who her Jack really is.
Because he knows he'll take down the house of cards before he lets her go.
He finds it ironic, that he does just that.
When the Queen is overthrown and Alice's father is gone, when Jack has his arm around a pretty girl who looks just this side of familiar, when Charlie has been found and safely sent to the Library, when the Oysters are lined up, he still can't bring himself to go to the Looking Glass chamber. He sits among the shattered fragments of the Tea Shop, drinking out of a chipped teacup and glowering. He has learned so many new emotions in so few hours. When she's gone, all he'll have left to do is catalog them.
When she's gone.
Her absence is the strongest feeling of all, a tangible ache, a part of him missing, something that should be there. He drops the teacup on his way out the door, ignoring the pieces where they fall.
no subject