The sight of what remained of the once great Kingdom of Knights came as something of a relief to Hatter. He worried that if they needed to travel much further he would end up carrying Alice the rest of the distance. He had already found himself nearly offering to do so on several occasions, whenever Alice would stumble on the path or even just lean more heavily into his side. And since when did he become some White Knight, pledging aid to damsels in distress?
Probably around the same time that Alice came into his life, his mind supplied - in a voice that sounded suspiciously like Charlie, and also a little bit like Mad March. It was the same voice that had been steadily mocking him ever since he had run to Alice's rescue in the Hearts' Casino, though it had quieted considerably when the girl in question was back by his side. But now, having her clinging tightly to him, and the maddening heat of her skin felt even through layers and layers of water-logged clothing, has brought that jeering voice back full force.
Hatter is more than a little familiar with what Alice is experiencing right now, having been dosed himself - both by the Queen's guards and by Dodo, and why on earth did he think it would be a good idea to try and play both sides? - but at the same time he has no idea what happens to Oysters who drink the Tea. There's no way of knowing exactly how she'll react to it. Already the response has been considerable delayed, though he's hoping that was just lost in the adrenaline of their escape. It's not a likely scenario, however. The effects are also building more slowly, and getting worse the longer they travel. This he could offer no explanation for, as Tea normally hit the citizens of Wonderland hard and fast. Perhaps she was trying to resist the effects? Won't help, only makes things worse, came the voice that sounded a little too much like Mad March this time.
Hatter looked over to where Alice had finally let her head drop onto his shoulder. She seemed to have rather quickly caught on to the fact that too much contact was something to be avoided right now, as was speaking. Already she has accidentally let slip a certain fondness for his accent (and Hatter couldn't really be sure whether that was the Honesty or the Lust speaking) and also revealed her terrible taste in clothing (calling his shirt ridiculous, of all things). After that she had been much more reticent, but still she clung to his arm more tightly with each step. He couldn't tell if it was dizziness or Lust but he was determined not to ask.
They passed the towering stone Knights that guarded the former kingdom, their domain slowly being overtaken by the surrounding forest. Hatter notices the sudden coolness of his shoulder as Alice manages to lift her head for a few moments. She can't resist looking over the ruins of the kingdom, still a wondrous sight despite all that has happened. It's certainly a nicer sight than the City, crowded and grimy as it's become.
"What was it like before?" Alice dares, hoping for a distraction or perhaps just curious.
"Before the Queen? I'm afraid you'll have to ask Charlie about that. She's been on the throne of Wonderland as long as I've known. But they tell me things used to be better. The people here, they used to be better too. Maybe something a little more like your childrens' story." He grins over at her, teasingly reminding her of their first meeting, when she first learned that she was in Wonderland. She doesn't respond for a moment, and he thinks perhaps she's also remembering the rest of that first meeting, the parts that cast him in a less than admirable light. But finally she turns to give him a small grin of her own, and Hatter tries to focus on that, rather than the way her eyes are darker now than he's ever seen them.
Hatter's thoughts grow darker as well. In a voice eerily reminiscent of Mad March's, he is reminded that there's a way Hatter could spare her all of this. While drinking a little sip of Lust leaves you with a pleasant buzz and merely settles into a itching sense restlessness afterwards (the course of all addictive pleasures), too much often requires some sort of physical relief. Or that itching dissatisfaction becomes more of a clawing need. The kind that eventually requires a padded cell, or at least some kind of medical intervention. Hatter is certain that Alice would not appreciate either outcome. He is less certain whether she would appreciate an offer to help.
But the way she's unconsciously stoking his arm, and pressing closer to him than is strictly necessary to support herself, makes Hatter think she might actually consider it. He allows his mind to drift a little along this line of thought, imagining a variety of scenarios in which Alice accepts his offer. Each starts in its own way - perhaps with a soft kiss and some gentle teasing, still others with Alice tearing at his clothing before he can even ask the question. All of them end in the exact same way, with Alice breathless and satiated beneath him. It's a rather lovely thought, actually, and the shaky breaths coming from the flesh and blood woman beside him certainly add to his imaginings. He can almost hear her sweet voice pleading with him, her dark eyes filled with trust. His courage grows with each imagined scene, words for his proposal already forming in his mind. She wouldn't refuse his offer.
But could she? Refuse? It's this thought comes like a rush of cold water over him, forcing all others from his mind. Alice is finally starting to trust him again, and Hatter wants more than anything to be worthy of that trust. This, Hatter thinks, sounds a little more like Charlie, but also a lot like the man he hopes to be. The kind of man someone like Alice could believe in.
It's the real Charlie himself who interrupts Hatter's thoughts. "Too slow, too slow, Harbinger. Mustn't linger in the woods…" The last words are delivered in an overly dramatic whisper. In the time it's taken to catch up with the White Knight he's already managed to build a fire and all but his long johns are hung out to dry, and he once again jumps to attention at their presence.
"My Lady, has some new calamity befallen you?" Charlie is quick to notice Alice's distress and is immediately upon her, checking for any sign of injury. Hatter tries to ignore the fact that Charlie seems considerably less worried about his own person, and instead be thankful that at least he isn't being called a blackguard, or being accused of letting some harm come to Alice. It seems he's slowly growing on the old codger. But Hatter can't help feeling as though he is to blame for what has happened to Alice. After all, it was he who had suggested bargaining with the ring, and then he again who had lost her trust back with Dodo. Sent her leaping straight out of the frying pan and into the fire. An apt metaphor, considering her current fevered state.
"Alice isn't feeling too well, I think it's best we just let her catch some shuteye." Hatter catches himself pulling Alice more closely to his side as Charlie tries to get a better look at his patient. There's little need though, the way Alice is firmly clinging to him. Charlie draws back immediately at hearing that Alice is unwell, making a deep bow and extending his hand towards the bedroom with a flourish.
The 'bedroom' itself isn't really so much a room - it lacked both a ceiling and any real walls - but it did, most importantly, contain a bed. Likely Charlie's, though he had given it over to Alice the night before, and produced a hammock for himself. To Hatter he generously offered up the ground. It was no matter though - Hatter had slept on far worse. And right now he was more concerned with Alice. He eased her away from his side to sit on the edge of the bed, the ancient frame creaking beneath her.
"I'm just going to…" Hatter did his best to look apologetic as he helped her out of her damp coat and boots, trying not to stare at the way her wet dress clung to her form. He probably should have just let her handle this part herself, but the way her hands were trembling made the choice for him. He did his best to keep his distance as he held back the covers, allowing her to slip beneath them without touching her more than was necessary. "Right, that's all done. So I'll just be off then."
"Please stay." The words were spoken so quietly that Hatter might not have heard but for the fact that he was painfully aware of everything Alice right now.
"You see, the thing is, you need to sleep this off. Or not sleep this off." It's clear that Alice understands the meaning of his words, the way she's no longer looking at him, even though she manages to avoid blushing at the implications. "And I'd just be in the way, so…"
Hat in hand, he's already turning to leave again when he hears it, just as quietly but he knows there's no way he would have missed it. "Would you? Be in the way?"
Bloody hell if that isn't tempting. It's not exactly the sultry voice she took on in all of his imaginings, but it's so straightforward, so very Alice, that it's all the sexier for it. He knows what she's asking from him. He knows that it would help her, and that they'd both certainly enjoy it. But he won't risk her hating him in the morning, or losing her trust. Even if he could be certain that she wanted this, that she wouldn't regret it later, he knows that he would. To have Alice for one night and then lose her again would break him. Better to leave now, while they're both still in one piece.
"Goodnight, Alice."