Author: Lost Wendy
Title: Color Blind
Rating: G
Summary: The Hatter investigates colors and finds he doesn't like what (or who) they remind him of.
Disclaimer: Alice in Wonderland belongs to Disney and Tim Burton, as well as the genius that was Lewis Carroll.
*****
"I've decided to investigate," the Mad Hatter announced grandly, "things that have colors." He glanced around the table--Mallymkun had fallen asleep again in the butter dish, and Thackery was currently busy tossing flatware at the flowers--and nodded. "Good. Now that I've got your attention, I can begin."
"Considering the questionable conundrum of colors," he continued, "I'm sure to create a kaleidoscope of chromatic connotations." He pulled out a sheet of parchment from one sleeve, a quill from another, and contemplated.
***
Red
He keeps his red hair long and curly precisely because it stands out in Queen Mirana's court. The contrast of red against white pleases him; it's just the sort of thing this blank canvas of a castle needs. White walls, white floors, white hair, white clothes. He's half-tempted to dump a pot of jam all over the next white dress that walks by. Perhaps he will anyway; hat-making can be dreadfully dull when there is no screaming to sew by.
Besides, the child said it looked funny, and funny is better than white any day.
Orange
The fire comes out of nowhere, blazing with an orange heat that spreads like butter on a warm scone. There is anger in this fire, anger hot from an angry queen who steals the throne as she steals their livelihoods. The crowd scatters as the fire consumes, and the queen--the true queen--rides to safety. The Hatter alone is left. He is glad she is not here to see her precious "Wonderland" become a Wasteland.
Yellow
"Your hair wants cutting."
He remembers the first thing he said to her as if it were yesterday. (If only he could remember the answer to that blasted riddle.) Her hair is longer now, but just as curly as it used to be and just as sunshine-y happy yellow as Wonderland used to be. Everything was white. Everything is red. She was the yellow in-between. She brings yellow now like a light in the dark. She brings hope.
Green
How dare the queen's man try to arrest her on charges of seduction! As if she could ever fall for that--that long, gangly noodle of a man! He only has one eye! Why, that Stayne is nothing but a stain upon humanity!
His anger--consternation? jealousy?--rages like a frumious beast. A manxome foe no more! Down with the Bloody Big Head and her One-Eyed Stain!
Blue
Her dress is always blue. It should be blue. Blue is calming, a peaceful color. She is one of the few who can calm him--he's fine! he's fine!--because she is and because he is.
Blue is the night they share on Mirana's balcony, talking of an uncertain future. He remembers blue; it takes the shine off his nervousness as she dons her silver suit.
Purple
Purple is the official color of royalty. But there is no purple here. No more red, either, nor orange nor yellow nor green nor blue. Just white again. It's a winter Wonderland as Mirana takes the throne once more.
"I love your bowtie, Tarrant," the queen compliments him as she sweeps by. "That shade of plum particularly suits you." Plum. Another word for purple. He stares down at his tie, which looks frumpy and uffish on him. It's not purple. It's sad.
***
Ink splattered all over the parchment as the Hatter gave it one last jab with his quill. His list was complete--or as complete as he could make it with all the squigglies and doodles he had drawn in the margins. (His favorite, if he had to choose, was the one he had drawn of himself.)
He looked down at his list.
Red—hair
Orange—fire
Yellow—faith hope Must rhyme! fair (?)
Green—desire what?
Blue—dress
Purple—mess
He read over the list again. And then once more. And then promptly crumpled it up into a ball and threw it across the table. It bounced off the dormouse and into an empty tea pot.
"Utter nonsense," he declared. "Everyone knows colors aren't real anyway. Anyway!" He pounded the table to emphasize his point, and Mallymkun bounced in the air. "Mmm, just a dream," she murmured, and settled back into the butter.
The Hatter frowned. That was the problem. No matter how hard he tried to make them disappear, he could still see her colors in his dreams.
