After a long hiatus due to familial issues, I bring the fourteenth chapter of 'The Tale of Teapot!' Yes, there will be more after this. It probably won't be up for quite a while, but the recovery is beginning but before he fully recover, will Lacey land herself right into the hands of one of Alice's (and Tarrnt's) most hated enemies? More to come!

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"Well, go on! I promise, he doesn't bite, and his sickness isn't contagious. At least that's what my Mom says."

"Well, I can't just go in. I don't know his name, or how he's going to react to seeing me."

"His name is Hatter. And he wants to see you."

Dedrick had assured her of this as he left her alone to stand in front of the skewed door. It was old, weary. The doorknob was a grimy sort of silver. All of this, Lacey took note of while attempting to gain her muchness from where she had left it downstairs. The sudden news that the Hatter would want to see her was strange. The Queen seemed perplexed, the cat had just smiled and the mouse glared her at Dedrick had pulled her up the stairs.

Muchness. What was it anyways? A type of courage, of bravery? But who cared anymore? A few more steps and she would meet someone her mother never talked about. This meant he was either really good or really bad. But she had talked about the Red Queen and she was really bad. So who was it? The question hung in the hair as her small hand turned the doorknob.

The door swung open with a small creak. The room, she could tell, had once been filled with energy and joy. Now it was simply a husk of what it had been. Table was over turned. Fabrics laid strewn some in piles, some hanging from coat racks, and other cut beyond recognition. A single window filtered in light through dust and grime. There was full length mirror, cracked.

And in the midst of all the wreckage a figure atop one of the large piles of fabric seemed misshapen, wrong. The figure let out a large sigh, as if it were troublesome to breathe. She moved slowly, the door shut slowly by itself as she moved towards it. Him. Whatever it was.

"Hello?"

She asked softly to the figure, as she got closer to it. She could see him now, his cheeks sunken in, his hair matted. He looked like a dog that had been left to die. His otherworldly green eyes flickered up to her, and then looked back down. Speak, Lacey. Speak.

"M-my name is Lacey, but some call me Teapot."

"Teapot."

He repeated it softly, softer than her first hello. She sat beside him, watching him carefully. He was old. So very old, and sad. No wonder he was Love Sick. His heart had more than he could bear. She watched his eyes and followed where they were. A hat. It was old, like him. It was atop a table. She stood up and went to retrieve it. She sat beside him again, he was watching her.

"Is this yours?"

She asked, examining it. It was pretty. The purplish red scarf tied around, a peacock feather and paper around a very funny looking hat. But it was pretty and old.

"May I use it for a while?"

He made no attempt to respond. She carefully put it on her head so that it wouldn't fall over her eyes. There was a knock at the door. She looked up nervously at the door and back at the Hatter. She had to go soon.

"Hatter,"

She started, but stopped. She was unsure of what to say. Should she comfort him? Maybe hold his hand? But it all seemed wrong. He had grieved for so long. It was a loss that he couldn't get back. Carefully, she kissed his forehead.

"I'm sorry. Get better soon, okay?"

She got up, hat still on her head and left the room.

Tarrant felt as if a little light had just been shed on his dark heart. A little light that he didn't deserve.