The frost crunched under the Knave's boots, and his breath fogged before him with the cold. Underland seemed to be dying with it. The biting air was still and carried no sound; everybody had stayed sensibly home at their fireplaces. Stayne had a feeling he would find who he was looking for, though. Just a hunch. He smiled as he turned into the clearing, the sight before him confirming his belief. The Hatter sat alone at his table. Even his unbalanced companions had had the sense to seek shelter. Even the plates were crusted with frost.
The Hatter sat facing him but didn't glance up. He smiled unsteadily into the tea he was pouring for himself at the sound of footsteps. "Would you like some..." He broke off confusedly as he looked up, seeing the Knave.
"Tea?" Stayne supplied helpfully, coming forward to the table. "Yes, why not. No sugar."
The Hatter quavered, but didn't protest. His lips moved inaudibly once or twice as he reached for another cup, and he frowned as he poured the Knave's tea for him.
"What's wrong? Expecting someone else?" Stayne paused significantly. "Alice, perhaps?"
He looked up, stricken. "Alice?"
"Alice."
He put the teapot down carefully, but said nothing.
Stayne rounded the table to take his cup, and gestured to the Hatter to follow him. "Walk with me."
He didn't bother waiting for the Hatter to follow him into the woods. As he strode on, he imagined him fighting with himself in his chair, and didn't have to wait long to hear him stand. He smiled.
"There are rumours," Stayne said, after the Hatter had abandoned his tea and trotted to catch him with him, "that Alice is to be brought back."
"Alice?" He echoed again.
"Don't play dumb," he said impatiently. "You know what I'm talking about."
"I didn't know she was coming back," he said reproachfully, after a pause.
"She probably isn't," Stayne amended on reflection. "If you didn't know about it. Only your lot would attempt something so pitiful." He knew he would get anything the Hatter knew out of him. He always did. He gulped his tea down without really tasting it. It wasn't as hot as it should be but it wasn't quite cold, and a little too sweet for his liking.
The Hatter stayed at his side as he walked on. He had been chaste before Stayne, he was sure, alone in his madness, and was rather attached to him. "Where are you going?" He asked eventually.
"To ask others. Just in case." He stopped in his tracks and turned to face the Hatter. The Hatter looked back at him wide eyed, and Stayne could practically hear his heart beating in the silent wood. "But I may see you tonight," he said slowly, keeping his expression neutral as he saw the Hatter struggling to do likewise. "Here." He put his free hand on the Hatter's shoulder and pushed him back into the nearest tree. The remains of Stayne's tea splashed onto hand, but he didn't seem to notice. He still said nothing, eyes shining solemnly, and began to shake as the damp of the trunk sank into his clothes. Stayne leaned in, feeling his indraw of breath, and averted his lips at last minute, kissing his cheek instead. It was like kissing marble, smooth as ice.
"11 o clock," he told him, pushing his cup into the Hatter's mercury-damaged hand. Then he pushed himself off the tree and left him. Hearing a familiar cutting sound in the air, the Knave ducked just in time to see the cup smash against a tree. After getting over his initial shock, he spun around angrily, but the Hatter had already gone. It was either an unremarkable rebellion, or his version of play. Stayne had no way of knowing, and didn't particularly care which. He headed on his way, making a mental note to bring a rug of some sort. The Hatter never thought of such things.