Chapter One: The Hatter of London Hour
Winter came to London, cruel and unforgiving. That is how Tarrant saw it with his emerald eyes. His clothes thin and patch-worked with thread bare patches, he barely kept warm, but it was all he had. Tarrant had been born to a family of a drunk and a prostitute. There were just so many mouths to feed it was a daily fight, right now he wandered the streets nursing a bruised wrist from fighting off his father's steely grip when he hadn't gotten out of the house in time when he had woken from his drunken stupor of a nap. He stopped in the mouth of an alley that was sheltered from the wind by its two walls and stack of crates. Looking down in the frozen puddle where he scuffed his feet of his nearly tattered hand me down shoes. He was pale, and looked how he felt, famished and dirty. His orange hair now red with dirt and the lack of the sunlight to shine on it, wild tresses a mess, barely civilized for the fact he had it tied back with the remains of a ribbon.
His eyebrows unkempt, wearing the bowler he had found tossed away, the brim torn. Dark circles of misery and exhaustion under his eyes but he soon looked up hearing chatter. Looking down to the right he found children all in their warm clothes looking into a shop window that was lit up in this late afternoon and early evening whereas the others had long gone home done with their days work. He wondered what could have captured their attention so but he dared not come out of his hiding spot. Looking at his reflection and clothes he shrank into his subconscious that he could always be safe.
The children were soon ushered away from the shop by their parents who seemed to disprove, Tarrant waited a moment to nibble his bottom lip and his fingers rung in the threadbare coat and finally made himself move from his sheltered spot into his cold mean world, making his way to the shop window. Looking within he froze as his emerald eyes lit up in wonder. There were so many teacups and shoes and hats and clothes. All things not normal in the proper society, after all which lord took teacups with fairies and dragons and other assorted strange things. But Tarrant loved them, each one. He heard a noise that tore him from his wonderings and peaked around to see an assistant taking out trash. He cautiously got closer see the door left open, unlocked to him, working on his nerve he pitched himself forward and quietly to slip inside and hid into the nearest thing he could find.
He found clothing closet and hid inside kneeling down and listening, straining his ears as he listened. Yet there was nothing after the assistant came in retrieving his coat and locking up. Tarrant waited till the sound of his own heartbeat threatened to drive his sanity to the breaking point and consume his fragile mind. Cautiously venturing out he gasped as something landed only to see a cat. It looked at him, green blue aluminous eyes full of mischief and knows all wonder. Its stripes streaked in an array only to make the cat seem to be grinning ear to ear like a fool. He settled his storm and looked to see a fluffy white rabbit with a huge cotton tail of white like summer clouds. He gently reached out and hesitated but touched it to find fur softer than anything he had ever felt. Being careful he picked up the rabbit and caressed it. Watching its ears softly slack, the warmth and gentleness of the creature brought a smile to Tarrant he couldn't fight and a feeling of peaceful wonder.
Yet the bunny struggled for a moment and leapt from his arms he panicked. "Wait please!" He hissed in whisper but it fled in bounding graceful hops that he gave chase not paying attention to the direction they were going. But he stopped at a growl to turn and see a young pup bloodhound. He swallowed and backed up into the room more fear gripping him. "Easy Bayard, don't scar cricket he's a guest and a friend and very, very, late for tea." The person speaking turned from their chair set and Tarrant felt his heart leap into his throat.
She was pale like he was but in a clean delicate sense. The woman was not really a woman either she was a young teenage child of fifteen only two to three years his senior. She was tall about five eight to his five six. She had long auburn black hair with red orange streaks, having delicate arched brows. Bangs streaked hair up and yet down. Bearing delicate pins of ornate nature like hatters pins. Ears pierced and more than once which was proper. She had the most bizarre but beautiful eyes he had ever seen they were so blue they looked almost purple. Yet gave the illusion of having gold in them. Her smile was soft and all knowing yet mysterious with soft red lips the center having a pinch of dark rose it gave the illusion of faded pressed roses you found in a photo album.
She had circular glasses the color of purple perched atop her nose at the middle. They had no rims to go behind her ears. She wore clothing of pants that fit yet somehow seemed almost too short showing multicolored stockings, wearing shoes that came up at the back and up her calves like some kind of boots. They strapped around each leg, she had a leather belt that hung sideways off one hip and a sash beneath it. The white shirt bore a corseted vest that laced up, her jacket on the chair. Her arms had leather forearm bracers and it crossed her palms but on almost every other finger was a thimble, thumbs wrapped. One eye had blue and gold the other red and gold. It was all mad yet beautiful. "Hello Cricket." She smiled and tilted her head he felt a twinge of madness in her.
She gestured to the left of her arm sweeping a little he saw a table made and it had food and arrangement of tea cups and tea ready. Other hand extending and awaiting him to take it. He swallowed past his heart and hesitated but reached out and slowly took her hand to feel the warmth and she was very real. He could feel tears start to burn his eyes he rushed and hugged the girl and she giggled not at all confused as if this was normal between them, two strangers, embracing each other.
She helped him to his seat and smiled more putting a silken scarf over his eyes, leaning her lips trace his ear and he felt as if they were silk itself. "I've been waiting for you my Cricket." She pulled the scarf away he found her not there but beside him to the right on the floor with her legs bent as was his own. But he got wide eyes looking down then double checked. "What…?" He breathed in utter shock yet bizarre fascination. He wore dark brown pants that showed off multicolored stripped socks with black brown shoes. His shirt was pale blue and he had vest that was stripped down the back yet checkered in the front. A long brown coat on him the fringes of his shirt white stuck out proudly from the sleeves.
Silk crossed his palms from mesh like gloves and he was very clean. He looked in his reflection of a plate and picked it up to touch his face. He was pale yet but clean, his eyes brighter and his hair clean and brushed it fell straight almost and was a beautiful fire red almost orange. It wasn't wild and a mess he smiled and for the first time in a long time felt his heart swell yet it doubled, he almost found it hard to breathe finally taking awareness of his surroundings. This was the shop; the teacups had changed with oriental designs. The room had sliding doors and it opened that strange woman walked in. He watched them move with grace in clothes that wrapped to the side with silken sashes they seemed to glide with each step they took. Their hands and faces painted pail like delicate porcelain china. Ruby red lips and exotic makeup. Hair up and away from the face with ornate ornaments like the one beside him. Tarrant blushed gently fiddling with what he found was a bow tie of exotic colored circles. Bright colors. Looking up to her he sipped his tea after the geisha served him and shivered but cherished it.
"You said you had been waiting for me, what did you mean by that?" She smiled at that sipping her tea one of the exotic women spoke. "It means you are her other half." She smiled kindly and sat back only for him to nearly spit up tea as she dissolved into flowers and butterflies. In the other seats were a hare, a mouse and a cat. "Of course tha's what she meant!" The Hare chuckled shuffling the plates. The dormouse and cat giggled. "Now now come, be nice to Tarrant." She pouted.
Tarrant stared at this then her blinking innocent emerald eyes. "Ah where have my manners gone dear cricket my apologies. " She gestured to the animals that could suddenly now seem to laugh and talk. "This is Rallymkun the Dormouse," he bowed with a sweeping kneel. "Chessure the Cheshire cat," she giggled and looked to the last. "The March hare." She looked to him taking his hand, "and I beloved cricket am Illillian Creed." She stood taking off her top hat and took a sweeping bow for him. "Hatter at your service, "she giggled. They all giggled it wasn't all sane or making sense.
"Do I get to stay with you then, you said you were waiting for me?" She smiled and leaned to caress his cheek and trace his ear with her lips and his eyes widened at her words. She said….
TBC