Carriage
If ever there was a doubt that Hatter believed that this Alice was The Alice, it was immediately and unquestioningly put to rest the moment he swept his hat off from atop his head and offered it to her.
His most prized and precious possession (despite the most curious fact that he honestly didn't own anything not adorned on his person); an extension of himself, burned and tattered and oddly pierced with pins and feathers and wrapped in silk.
Hat of the Hatter.
Part of his past burnt with pain and senseless destruction, very few in Tarrant's good graces were allowed to touch it (and all things considered, there were only two beings he kept in company these days), let alone ride on it; for there were few creatures with the exacting size required to.
He knew even less.
And yet as naturally as he partook in the aromatic delights of his tea, as slipping and pricking, cutting and altogether massacring his nimble fingers, he had excitedly, eagerly and most enthusiastically placed the headdress before her as a mere means of transport.
His hat would not be happy.
Such a shock it was to Thackery and Mallyumkun, that for the first time in ever so long, there was a pregnant pause. A definite silence around the table.
"You're carriage, Milady
A genuine, quirked smile spread across the Hatter's face which for so long had been painted with exhaustion and disappointment.
A look that some would liken to adoration, hope and unadulterated awe; as though the wrecked chapeau, bizarre and beautiful as it was, was finally serving it's purpose: for Alice's tiny feet to gently tread upon it's large brim and rest against it's rise.
A queen upon the altar.
"The hat?"
Mallyumkun was unimpressed with how ungrateful and unwilling this Alice character was to crawl upon it. She would give her right arm to be offered a place there with such anticipation by the Hatter, instead of having to beg and nag and threaten.
Thackery didn't say anything much at all. His span of shock reaching a halt with avid staring, his pupils dilating constantly with madness and worry. But mostly madness.
"Of course! Anyone can travel by horse or rail. But the absolute best way to travel is by hat"
Even now, with her suspicions and trepidations, Hatter was smiling. A most infectiously, joyous, mad, head tilting, green eyed, fiery logic that washed over Alice. She could no longer deny him the apparent pleasure and pride he would get from her sitting on his hat. How strange to be pleaded and coerced into sitting upon any piece of clothing. Her mother would likely faint at the sheer rudeness of it, not taking into account how improperly dressed and sized she was.
And how often did one get the opportunity to mount and journey on a hat?
"Have I made a rhyme?"
Alice was quite certain she didn't hear one. Perhaps her ears were far too small.
Or her brain.
"Oh! I love travelling by hat!"
The dormouse had not felt the ticklish, rough, and most contradictory material of Hatter's hat under her paws for such a long time; a travesty she blamed on Time for stopping. They had no-where to go.
And this Alice looked far too pleased and smug in her Hatter-made dress, on the Hatter's hat.
"Mally please. Just Alice"
Just Alice.
Clear as day, that moment had told Thackery a definite something, though he lost it moments later; something Mallyumkun didn't ever want to know.
Something the Hatter had realised instantly, yet would take most of his newly found Time to realise.
"Fairfarren all!"
She was not at all Just Alice.