Quietly he unlocked the door, poking his head it to see if anyone was still awake.
The house was completely dark, not a soul be seen.
Taking off his jacket as he entered he did the same with his hat, hanging them by the door.
"How was it?" a voice asked, causing him to jump and smack into the door with a loud bang.
"Christ Mally, don't do that to me" he said, breathing hard as he leaned against the wall.
"Sorry" Mallymkun replied, giggling quietly.
"S'alright. It went well" pushing off the wall he headed for the stairs, his little friend scurrying beside him.
"Do you think you're going to be alright?"
The Hatter shrugged "not to sure to be honest, I suppose we'll find out in time"
Mallymkun's expression saddened slightly.
"Don't worry Mally, everything will be fine. Where's Thackery?"
"He fell asleep about 20 minutes ago"
"Why aren't you sleeping?"
"I was waiting for you of course"
He smiled "you didn't have to"
"I wanted to" she protested stubbornly
"Fair enough, now off to bed"
Nodding she scurried off towards the small door in the floorboard, waving goodnight before disappearing behind it.
Sighing Tarrant sat down on the stairs, resting his head in his hands. It was nice to know where he truly belonged but despite the joy he was feeling about this newly learned secret, he could feel the darker emotions lingering below the shallow surface.
He was tired, he that that much, and he yearned for everything to work out and be fine. He yearned to return to his work and do what he loved.
Standing up he climbed the stairs with heavy feet, shuffling towards his bedroom.
Slipping under the blankets, he knew that sleep would come graciously, closing he eyes he sighed as he was pulled into unconsciousness.
It was never unusual for her to be seen brightly awake in the morning, though today she had awoken with a goal in mind.
Mounting her horse, the White Queen set off towards Witzend, praying the search for the Hatter's mother would not be difficult.
The journey to Witzend was not a hard one, the Hightopps' having been employed in the White Court for generations, established their clan not far from Marmoreal. Tarrant was the only one who lived apart, purely form a lack of knowledge.
Riding into the town she made her way to it's center, looking around curiously. She had refused the accompaniment of a guards, finding the idea offensive to the clan.
The town's center always brought back happy memories for her, many times as a young child she would come with her mother to celebrations that the Hightopps hosted. Their parties were always so lively and exciting, never a bore.
"Your highness!" someone called, pulling her out of her train of thought.
"Ina?" she smiled, sliding off her horse to greet her friend "oh it's so good to see you"
Ina smiled, it was obvious she was one of true Hightopp blood. Orangey-red curls fell down to her shoulders, bouncing lively as she walked. Her piercing dark green eyes caught you attention almost instantly, full of life and joy. Her eyes were lines with a vibrant purple, an odd trait the people of that clan seemed to develop. Though her appearance was nothing compared to that of Tarrant, the obvious relation was there.
"What brings you here?" Ina asked, smiling excitedly at her.
"I'm looking for Slàine" Mirana replied "Tarrant is in Underland"
Ina's eyes widened as she got very still "he's here?"
She nodded "he's living in the windmill in Queast"
"D-does he know?"
"Yes, that is why I must find Slàine immediately. I believe he needs all the help only a Hightopp such as your Aunt can provide"
"Oh of course, she's most likely in the art room. I'll take you there now"
Urgently Mirana followed her to a cozy looking home, entering quickly Ina lead her directly to the art room at the back of the house.
Opening the door she saw Tarrant's mother sitting peacefully on a stool before a canvas, her brush sliding expertly from one place to another.
"Slàine?" she asked, forcing the nervousness in her voice away.
The woman turned around, there was no doubting that she was Tarrant's mother, her vibrant orange hair fell into tight curls to her lower back, her eyes an unusual yellow with an outer green ring. Her skin was pale, but nowhere near as drastic as her sons.
Standing she grinned, the skirt of her brightly colored dress billowing around her.
"Mirana!" she cried happily, rushing to hug her.
Mirana returned the embrace gratefully, having known the woman her entire life, customary actions were no longer required.
She was the only living person who knew the White Queen as well as she did, not a soul in Underland knew her as well.
"Slàine" she greeted cheerfully, the nervousness she formerly felt evaporating completely.
"What's brought you here today my dear?"
Mirana sighed "I have something of great importance to tell you"
Slàine's face suddenly became quite serious "shall we move to the den?"
Nodding she followed her through the familiar house into a comfortable den.
"Please sit" Slàine instructed, joining her as she took her seat "so what is it you must tell me?"
"Tarrant has come back to Underland" she stated bluntly
"When?!"
"One month ago. John Silverwood was killed by Tarrant's adoptive father and he gave him the key before dying"
"Is Tarrant alright?"
Mirana sighed "that's why have I come. It appears that Underland was not the cause of the madness"
"He's gone mad…" Slàine breathed, her voice filled with utter defeat.
"No, he hasn't" she assured "Slàine I fear Tarrant is much like Alastair, I witness the anger his father had, in him"
"When did it happen?"
"Last night, the Knave Ilosovic Stayne enticed him and he lost his temper" she paused "I know he's not entirely mad. Only a small portion of his mind has been consumed and it's manageable"
Slàine sighed her face a mask of worry "I was praying this would never happen…" her voice was barely a whisper "oh my baby boy"
" Slàine please don't lose hope, you of all people will be able to help him"
Tarrant's mother nodded "though what makes you so sure he's willing to accept my help?"
"He's afraid, and he longs to see you, despite his anger against being sent away"
"He does not hate me?"
"No he doesn't"
"When can I see him?"
Mirana smiled "I'd like you to come back to Marmoreal with me today, and potentially stay for a length of time"
She nodded "of course, I'll pack my things"
It was only moments before Slàine assembled a bag of clothes, along with a few cherished items.
"Ready?" Mirana asked, mounting her horse
Slàine nodded, strapping her back to her own horse and mounting it as well.
The two sped off into the vast terrain separating Marmoreal and Witzend.
Please don't hate me Slàine prayed.
Tarrant awoke slowly the next morning, realizing the arrival pulsing headache from the over use of wrathful adrenaline the night before.
Groaning he rolled over, burying his face within a large golden pillow.
'Get up, you have much to do today' the voice said, surprisingly friendly
"Like what?" he asked groggily
'You must make that boy's mother a hat'
He had completely forgotten about that, though now he wasn't so sure the boy would want his services.
The realization swept over him in a cold dread. Almost the entire town had attended the ball last night, and every single one witness his flirtation with rage.
Having people dislike him even more was innerving, making his heart sink slightly.
"As if they didn't find me strange enough"
He could hear the voice laughing in his mind.
"What so funny?"
'They never found you odd… what they were uncomfortable with was your similarity and resemblance to your father.'
"How would you know I look like him"
It scoffed 'You will find out in time'
Sighing in frustration the Hatter pulled himself out of bed, dressing quickly he tied his hair back in a shocking blue ribbon before leaving the room.
"Morning Hatter" Mallymkun said as he entered the kitchen.
He smiled "good morning, how are you?"
"Just dandy, Thackery made some tea would you like a cup?"
"Course"
Joining them at the table his eyes drifted over to a shaky March Hare who was sipping his tea nervously.
"Thackery?" he asked cautiously
"Hm?!" he replied with a jump.
"Are you alright?"
"J-just fine. A wee bit shaken is all"
It wasn't hard to see the lie behind his words, the sight of the Hare stirred the Hatter's anger slightly. One of his eyes were swollen shut and his ear hung limply as though keeping it erect would cause pain.
Pinching the bridge of his nose Tarrant calmed slightly, he could feel the protective urge for his friends growing stronger and stronger.
"One day Stayne will pay for what he's done" he muttered quietly, sipping the tea that had been poured for him.
"Hatter, please. Everything's alright"
He looked down to see Mallymkun staring at him with pleading eyes.
"I'm sorry Mally. I'm sorry fore everything"
He put down the cup, allowing her to climb up his sleeve to his shoulder.
"No more anger alright? At least not any time soon"
"Alright, I promise. I shall stay calm and kind"
She smiled at "you have much work to do Hatter, I think you should get to it"
Tarrant nodded, the idea of making hats lighting a bright joy within him.
"I shall return for dinner" he continued in a whisper, only for Mallymkun to hear "make sure Thackery is alright, get him to calm down if you can"
She nodded, jumping down onto the table as he rose from his seat.
Slipping on a long black leather jacket, he grabbed his spool sash and hat putting them on as he walked out the door.
The walk to marmoreal was no longer a burden but more a time to attempt at thinking clearly, that had always been a challenge for him, even as a child he'd always have a hundred idea's racing around his head. Things he had said, things he wanted to or was going to say, things to do, things he's done… hats, many thoughts about hats, his friends, Underland, the Above Ground and the voice.
The voice had always been there, but it had worsened with age. So unpredictable as well, it would be friendly one minute or offensive the next, and you could never guess which one. Many times he'd tried to influence it with his mood, but alas no such luck.
Arriving at the gates of the Castle, he strode through the grounds glancing about casually.
The White Queen had made it very clear that he was welcome any time, it was incredible how close he'd become with all his new friends in such a short amount of time.
Walking into the castle he headed for his work room, entering it with a childish grin.
Never once had he gotten tired of being in his beloved room, he could spend hours even days in here without a second though.
Stepping into the middle of the room, he let his hands trail over the rows of fabric rolls, drinking in the colors and textures.
The room had definitely changed since the day he received it, now it looked as though someone was using it well, instead of a decoration room.
And use it well he did, hundreds maybe even more hats had come from him. All greatly adored and appraised by their owners.
Removing his hat, sash and coat he hung them on the back of a char turning to face the fabric once more. He knew all there was to know, what colors would work together, what ones wouldn't. Textures and styles, durability, trims and décor. Anything you could think of, he could make it without even the slightest bit of trouble.
He wished he had met the boys mother, personalized hats were always so much nicer.
Thinking back on what the boy had said, he pulled bits and pieces of the conversation to construct an image.
'I worked all year to save up' they are not wealthy
'She always gushes about your hats' recently he had made more along the lines of flashy and decorated.
The boy was well dressed, clearly clothing of the parent's choice. She had good taste and enjoyed the color green, due to his green dress shirt.
Snatching the rolls of fabric he tossed them over to the table, having practice bling aim many times before.
Moving to the decorative section of the room, he grabbed ribbons, flowers, gems and beads taking them along with him to the table.
He was going to make her a women's top hat, undersized and meant to be worn on a slight angle to the side.
Arms full of his supplies he organized it nicely on the table, cutting the needed material before placing the unused rolls back with the rest.
Green silk for the body and brim, a shade lighter than forest green, it was a royal color, rich and full of life.
Starting on his work it didn't take long for the hat to be finished, only the decoration remaining.
Wrapping a dark green, almost black, ribbon around the base he took the excess ribbon and folded and stitched it so that looking like a flower placed quaintly on the left side.
Taking a few smaller decorative flowers he placed them around the ribbon made flower, stitching a few beads onto the center of it, up it's 'petals' he placed small white crystal gems.
Finally he sewed a trail of assorted green ribbings, tucked and stitched into the band at the back of the hat, meant to hang approximately mid back.
Completely engrossed by his work, he failed to see the two people standing in the doorway, his attention currently focused on examining every stitch of the hat.
Slàine stood in the doorway, tears springing to her eyes. She watched as her son worked on a gorgeous green hat, entirely focused on the task at hand.
"Tarrant…" she whispered quietly, bringing a hand to her mouth as the tears flowed freely from her eyes.
He looked so much like his father it scared her, the sight of her son made her heart ache, longing for all the years she'd lost with him to return. To see her little boy again, to hold him in her arms and sing him to sleep like she had so many times before. She'd lost all of that, his entirely childhood because of her assumptions and fear. She had cried the day the White Queen had sent him away, secretly wishing that she would have declined and forced her to rethink her choice, she felt as though she'd lost a piece of herself that day. Despite it being her decision, she wished she could spend her life with her son, but the urge to protect him from the madness was far to great.
A gentle hand on her shoulder made her snap from her thoughts, her face now soaked with tears. Her breathing was shaky as she restrained herself from darting into the room and embracing her son.
"I'm fine" she muttered softly, covering Mirana's hand with her own in reassurance.
The White Queen nodded, stepping into the room slightly.
"Tarrant?" she asked calmly "there's someone here to see you"
