Chapter One

He opens his eyes and is greeted with the sight of his mother staring blearily down at him. Her shawl is falling off of one shoulder, revealing a section of corset to him, and in her hand is a small cup of tea, discolored by the few drops of happiness or elation that he knows she adds to it. It's clear that she hasn't taken a sip yet, seeing as her face is currently clouded with confusion as she stares down at her only son as if he were a stranger she didn't recognize. Finally comprehension dawns on her and the creases in her forehead smooth over slightly.

"What are you doing here?" she croaks.

"I live here occasionally," he replies. He brings a hand to rub the sleep from his eyes. It also serves to block the image of his mother. The blessed blackness only lasts for a few seconds as his hand drops back down to his chest and his eyes open once again. It's then that he realizes that he had fallen asleep while reading, and that the book still lies open on his chest.

"Aren't you grown yet?" his mother asks. She notices the book as well and picks it up with her finger and thumb, as if she'd get contaminated from touching it. "These are supposed to be banned."

Hatter sits up and stretches his arms over his head. "I'm nearly grown," he tells her. "A few more years or so, and I can be legally out of your hair." He snatches the book away from her and throws it under his bed. "And just pretend you never saw that."

"Who taught you to read anyway?"

"Definitely not you or Dad."

He acknowledges that in another world that sort of comment would get him either a slap or an apology, but his mother does neither; she's already checked out of the conversation, sipping her tea as she toddles out of his room and into the small, adjoining living area of their apartment. He follows her, anger creeping numbly up his spine, dulled by the chaos that is Wonderland, but there nonetheless.

"I can write and do math too," he says, blocking her way to her bedroom. He leans forward, challenging her to get mad at him, but the tea is already working its wonders. She smiles at him as a low chuckle escapes her lips. She brings a finger to run down his cheek.

"You're the type of youth the Queen warns us all about," she says. "If you're not careful, son, you'll end up with a headless body." Her finger brushes lightly over his lips. "And such a pretty head you have too."

Hatter swallows his disgust and steps aside. "I see the new shipment of passion has come in," he says, his voice a little shaky. His mother's fingers travel down his neck and traces his collar bone. "Please just go to your room and drink your tea, Mum," he pleads.

His mother takes another sip of her tea, but she does not leave. Her fingers are now grasping at the front of his shirt, almost as if she wants to pull him closer. He tries to pry her fingers away.

"There you are, David!"

Both Hatter and his mother take a step back from each other as Joseph Hatter's booming voice fills the room. The Hatter patriarch is tall and broad, easily filling the room and radiating with self confidence – a self confidence that probably comes from the cup of tea he's holding.

"I'm glad you're here, son!" Joseph continues. He finally reaches them and slaps Hatter on the back good naturedly.

Hatter peers at his father. "Why?"

"We've got a big sale happening today in the Tea House," his father explains. "A wealthy family's buying a large number of crates, and I need you there to seal the deal!"

"Me?" Hatter asks.

"Him?" his mother echoes.

"I've never made a deal, Dad. I just unload the shipments."

"Don't worry about it, son. Don't worry about it. You'll do just fine."

"You've made huge sales before on your own. Why do you need me there?"

His father throws his arm around Hatter's shoulders and brings his face closer. Hatter can almost count the individual hairs of his father's beard.

"The family who's buying from us lives in the palace with the Queen," Joseph explains. "It's rumored that their daughter's to be betrothed to the prince."

"What does that have to do with me?"

His father's eyes shine as he raises a finger, as if signaling to Hatter that the good part's coming.

"The prince has been seeing other girls. And, really, you can't blame the boy. He's about your age. Young lads should be having a bit of fun before settling for only one, miserable woman."

Out of the corner of his eye, Hatter sees his mother visibly deflate. She sets her cup of tea on a nearby table and walks over to the locked cabinet where the family stashes their own collection of teas.

"Anyway, it appears that the young duchess is heartbroken. She'd do anything to get the prince. Her parents heard that I have a son, and they're willing to purchase ten to twenty extra crates of tea if you'd…teach her a thing or two about…pleasing a man."

"I'm supposed to seduce her!" Hatter shakes his head vehemently. "Dad, I can't."

"Nonsense! I know you've been with girls! Don't think I don't hear about what you and your friends do at your little tea parties in the woods!"

"Dad, it's not that. It's just…" Hatter runs a frustrated hand through his hair. "She's a duchess!"

"Nervous, eh?" his father asks. "That's why I brought this." He holds the cup of tea to Hatter's lips.

Hatter turns his head away. "Dad, I don't…" But he's cut off as his father's hand grabs his face and forces his mouth open. Hatter chokes as the lukewarm tea, spiked with self confidence, washes down his throat.

"That's a good lad," Joseph says, his beefy hand thumping Hatter on the back as Hatter coughs . "Now get cleaned up. The Duke and Duchess will be arriving in a half an hour."

Joseph turns and leaves the apartment, no doubt returning to the Tea House that's located a floor below. Hatter's eyes find his mother, who's still squatting in front of the tea cabinet, examining the blue tea of hope and the pink of excitement. "Do as your father says," she tells him in a monotone voice, not bothering to look away from the tea.

Hatter walks up behind her and squats down to her level. He wraps his arms around her and rests his head just between her shoulder blades. She stiffens at first but soon relaxes, and when he feels her hand grasping his own, he knows that she's no longer under the tea's influence; for once, she's actually his mother.

"You don't have to live this way, Mum," he tells her. "I can go days without tea. Weeks even. You don't really miss it after awhile."

Her hand leaves his as she reaches into the tea cabinet. "Go get cleaned up, David. I'll drink ignorance and forget that my son knows how to read, is too smart for his own good, and is probably plotting against the Queen in the woods with his friends."

Hatter holds on for just a moment longer, then he unwraps his arms from his mother, stands and walks away. Less than a minute later, his mother's gone again: physically there, but not spiritually. And Hatter can't help but think that it's only in Wonderland that children don't have parents.


Twenty five minutes later, Hatter finds himself lying in the flowering grass of his dad's office floor, his arms folded behind his head in a make-shift pillow and his eyes closed as he tries to concentrate on his breathing. Joseph had given him an extra dose of self confidence and a little bit of passion, just to be sure that Hatter would do the job, and now the emotions are taking hold, stronger than what Hatter would like. He's riled up and horny as fuck, and the only thing keeping him from reacting on these emotions is the light, barely audible songs that the flowers sing. Hatter had once asked Mad March if he heard the flowers' music, but March had graced him with a stony, 'you're out of you mind' look, and Hatter never brought up the subject again.

"Good, send them up."

Hatter opens his eyes at his father's voice, and he feels his emotions freeze momentarily as his stomach clenches.

"Stand up, David, m'boy, it's time to get to work," Joseph booms, and Hatter gets pulled to his feet by his father's beefy hand. He stands stock still and slightly miserable despite the tea as his father brushes the grass off of him and straightens his tie. When Hatter looks presentable, Joseph places his hands on his son's shoulders and looks him square in the eye.

"I have never been more proud of you than I am now," he says evenly.

"You're sending me to fornicate with a girl I don't know so that her parents will buy mind-altering substances," Hatter replies in the same tone. "Don't you think that's wrong, Dad?"

"It's a hell of a lot more fun of a job than what my father ever had me do, I'll tell you that!" Joseph takes a step closer and brings a finger to Hatter's face in warning. "Don't let your convoluted ideas of what's right and wrong screw this up, boy. Have another shot of passion if you need to, but if that young Duchess doesn't leave here satisfied, I'll send your head to the Queen myself!"

There's no time to react to the threat; the office door is already opening and trumpets are blaring, announcing the arrival of the nearly-royal family. Joseph's scowl is replaced with a smile as he approaches the family with arms wide open.

"M'Lord! M'Lady!" he booms, bowing low. Hatter bows as well, albeit a little stiffly and not nearly as low.

"Allow me to introduce my son, David," Joseph continues. He beckons to Hatter and when Hatter stands beside him, Joseph places a large hand on Hatter's right shoulder.

The Duke and Duchess scrutinize him for a moment before turning and waving their own daughter forward.

She looks young, even though Hatter knows that she's his age – a few months older actually, if he remembers correctly. It's obvious that she's nearing adulthood; Hatter can clearly see the curve of her breast and hip, but every last inch of her is covered, right down to her gloved hands. Her blond curls are gathered in a French twist, and she doesn't appear to have a hint of rouge on her. Her blue eyes are wide and a little bit frightened. She's frightened, Hatter realizes with a jolt, of him.

"This is our daughter, the Duchess Charlotte," the Duke says.

The Duchess gives a short, stilted curtsy. Her eyes lock briefly with Hatter's before she blushes and looks down at her feet.

"Excellent! Delighted to meet you, Duchess!" Joseph says jovially. "I'm sure the kids will get along just fine."

The Duke glances lazily about the room. "I assume you've prepared a place for the kids to…get better acquainted?" he asks.

"Of course, of course. David, why don't you show Duchess Charlotte the…uh…the other room?"

It's the last thing in the world that Hatter wants to do, but disobeying his parents could mean his head on a platter, so Hatter sighs and reaches out his hand to the Duchess. "M'Lady," he says.

She stares at his outstretched hand as if she expects it to turn into a snake and bite her, but, after a moment's hesitation, she lightly places her fingers in his palm and allows him to lead her to the far wall. He knocks twice on what appears to be the solid wall and a door appears. It's his father's personal supply room, stocked to the brim with the best teas Wonderland has to offer. This time tea isn't the only thing in the room: The center of the room houses an absurdly large bed.

"Oh bloody hell," Hatter swears as the door swings shut behind them and locks them in. He drops the Duchess' hand and walks over to the bed. It's not only wide, but tall as well, the brim of it reaching Hatter's shoulders. "Leave it to Dad to get carried away."

He turns and tries to grace the Duchess with a smile, though it probably looks more like a grimace. "I can help you up if you'd like," he says, gesturing to the bed.

The Duchess tenses visibly and takes a step back, practically pushing herself up against the wall, her hands behind her back and her eyes on her feet.

"I'd rather not," she says quickly. Her voice is quiet.

Hatter shrugs. He's vaguely aware that if he weren't high on tea, he'd understand that her statement was a rejection of him, not the bed. However, Hatter's high as a kite on self confidence and the thought leaves his mind almost as soon as it enters it. Not to mention that passion's working its wonders on him as well, and while he might not have wanted to seduce her that morning, he's liking the idea now.

"Okay." He shrugs. "We don't need to do it on the bed. I've done it standing before." He draws closer to her, so close that he can feel her breath on his neck. He brings his hands to rest against the wall on either side of her, trapping her like prey. He leans down and kisses her. Once. Twice. Three times. She turns her head abruptly after that, and his fourth kiss lands messily on her cheek. He pauses in confusion.

"I can taste the passion that your father forced down your throat to get you to seduce me," she says. Her voice is louder, a bit more confident, and Hatter feels thin wisps of surprise coil in his stomach.

"All teas taste the same," he tells her.

She looks at him then, and he notices something in her eyes, just behind her blue irises; a gleam that looks strangely like strength. She's ducking under his arm and walking over to a nearby cabinet before he has time to react. He stands against the wall and stares at her, watching as she rummages through the cabinet's contents. Finally she turns around with a small bottle of yellow tea: satisfaction.

"This counters both passion and self confidence," she tells him. She walks over to him and uncorks the bottle, bringing it to his lips. Hatter lets the tea crash against his lips, but keeps his mouth shut so that he doesn't drink it. When she pulls the bottle away, he licks the tea from his lips, getting just the few drops he needs to dull his confidence and passion. However, the tea does nothing to wipe away his genuine curiosity over the girl before him. The Duchess. The possible future queen.

She adverts her eyes at his staring, a blush rising on her cheeks. Suddenly her strength is gone, replaced with the shyness that Hatter noticed when she first entered his life.

"I've heard tales about you, Hatter," she says, softly.

"Really?" He feels his lips quirk upwards. "Good things, I hope."

She doesn't lift her head to make eye contact, but Hatter notices the smallest of smiles spread across her face. "Some," she consents. "But not all."

She takes a few steps away from him then, as if she's nervous about the fact that she's alone in a room with him.

"Why are you here, Duchess?" he asks.

She glances at him very briefly before returning her gaze to the floor.

"I'm awkward." It's a statement, one that Hatter can't really dispute. She's beautiful, but her beauty hides behind her tense demeanor. "And it's making it hard for me to…entice the prince. So my parents brought me here so that I can practice."

"Practice what?"

She shrugs. "I don't know. Practice being intoxicating so that the prince would like me?"

"Speaking of intoxication…why don't you just drink some self confidence or something? Problem solved, yeah?"

She says the next few words so softly that Hatter can barely hear her: "Tea has no effect on me."

"Come again?"

She glances up at him from under her lashes. "You heard me," she says. "Most Wonderlanders feel tea; I only taste it."

Hatter raises his eyebrows in surprise. "Wow."

"The Queen wanted me dead when she found out that she can't rule me with instant gratification."

"Then why are you still alive?"

She looks him square in the eye then. "Because I'm useful to her."

A million questions are at the tip of his tongue, but he doesn't ask any of them; he knows she won't answer them anyway.

"So my parents sent me here to practice enticing men, and the Queen agreed to this when she found out that the guy I'd be practicing on…is you." Hatter immediately opens his mouth to interrogate, but the Duchess only graces him with a smile. "She's heard tales too," she says.

Hatter feels fear gripping at his throat, and it's too much emotion for one day. He's exhausted and doesn't even have the strength to protest. He leans against the enormous bed, and the Duchess is in front of him again, close. She brings a hand to brush an errant lock of Hatter's hair off of his forehead.

"Don't worry," she whispers. "I'm on your side."

"I don't believe you."

Her lips are pulling upward again, but this time her smile looks sad. "You have no other choice," she say. She takes a step back then, blushes as she pulls off her gloves and forces them in his hands quickly, as if she's scared of her skin brushing his.

"To remember me by," she says, her cheeks bright red. She side-steps him and walks over to the door. "My parents will buy thirty extra crates of tea, and your parents will be so high on elation that they won't notice you stealing from them for your party tonight." She stops and waits for the door to unlock. She glances at him over her shoulder. "I'll see you around, Hatter."

And then she's gone, and he's left alone with a million questions in his head, tea coursing through his veins, and an overwhelming sense that the Duchess will eventually lead him into trouble.

He looks forward to it.