Chapter 12- Maiden Wine
A/N- Surprisingly enough, this chapter just kinda flowed out of me like water (and not something much less tasteful that I could compare it to if I wanted). I think this was the most fun to write so far, and I'm rather pleased with how it finally turned out. However, I do want to warn the reader that is chapter is a little...well...weird, for lack of a better word. I speak primarily about the scene involving Tivona, but the scene involving Sally could be seen as a little strange, too. I apologize for any slight discomfort parts of this chapter might cause, but honestly, I don't think any of it is that bad in comparison to a lot of what floats around on the net these days, even within this fandom. Mostly, I'm speaking about the more sexually-charged parts of this chapter (which don't involve Sally, if that's any consolation). None of these scenes would even be eligible for much more than a PG-13 rating, so don't worry.
We do get our first glimpse of one of the other Holiday worlds, and this is one of things I'm hoping won't be too *out there* or very far removed from the familiarity of TNBC. We'll be exploring it with a major, canon character, which I think might help some of us with the transition. I dunno, we'll see.
Also, I wanted to briefly address the matter of the Ensnare drug and the inherent vampire allure, because I'm not sure I've been as clear about these things I should have been. Basically, Tivona's ability to control Jack at various intervals and make him do and say things he wouldn't under normal circumstances is a product of this drug. If you'll recall, I described this drug earlier in the story as having the ability to make slaves of those who are attracted. Please keep this in mind as the story progress, because there might be moments that you'll want to slap Jack (or me) and demand to know what the hell he thinks he's doing. Relax, he isn't in a "sober" state of mind. As for the vampire allure, this is something that (despite Twilight's abuse of it, IMO) makes sense to me as a trait vampires would have. Their abilities are very similar to the products of the Ensnare in that their pheromones, or whatever it is about them that makes them irresistible, make wanton, drooling slaves of their prey. Again, to me, this is a logical trait for them to have. This occurs in nature as well with some predator/prey relationships. Tivona's "addiction" to Septimus, as it were, is based in a large part to this ability of his. That's why she hungers for him. This also isn't really a new characteristic of vampires in media and folklore. Watch Belga Lugosi as Dracula sometime to see what I'm talking about. (Believe me when I say, though, that I love the Nosferatu approach to vampires just as much as anyone, yet it still seems more plausible that a vampire would look appealing and have an inherent ability to seduce and thereby manipulate. That's just a basic survival trait, IMO).
Again, I appreciate all of the wonderful reviews and those of you who are keeping up so faithfully with the story. If you haven't come out from lurking yet, I invite you to please do so and give me your two cents. Feedback (as well as knowing I'm not the only one reading this, lol) is what keeps me going. Thanks again, to all of you! =D
Disclaimer- Burton's (mostly).
Pulling on their gloves and headpieces, the couple exited the warm embrace of the cabin to be met with the harsh, blistery wind of the late autumn night. Having spent their lives in a year round, Spring-like climate, they were not anywhere close to being comfortable with this.
"Oh dear," Augusta sighed, shifting her lavender shawl so that it more completely covered her shoulders. "Dreadfully cold out here, isn't it darling?"
"Yes quite," Lionel agreed, attempting to hide how much it truly affected him. "Best we get home sooner rather than later."
He then lit their lantern, hooked an elbow with his wife, and began their brief trek through the dark woods, back to the familiar clearing of doors. He could feel Augusta press herself closer to him as they walked, clearly ill-at-ease with the forest. He would have told her there was nothing to be afraid of, but given the world they were currently in, he suspected that there probably most definitely was.
"I'm rather sad we're not staying for the celebrations tomorrow," Augusta said after a time, clearly trying to refocus her attention and retain her perpetual positivity. "It will be the 31st, darling, Halloween. I do think it would be awfully fun to see how one celebrates such a thing, wouldn't you, my love?"
Lionel huffed beneath his mustache.
"Perhaps, my pet. I, for one, want as little to do with this town or that vampire lord as conceivably possible. I simply don't trust him…and besides, darling, we mustn't forget what we're trying to stand for. Staying to take part in the Halloween celebrations would only be facilitating assimilation."
Augusta nodded, her bonnet tickling Lionel's chin slightly as she did so.
"Oh, I suppose you're right, my dear…as usual."
She then looked upward at him and paused a moment to place a delicate kiss on the edge of his jaw. He smiled down at her warmly.
"You know, Augusta," he began, regaining their pace. "On a moonlit night like this, with you by my side…alone for a stroll in the woods…why, I'd almost call it romantic…"
She giggled a little mischievously and toyed with the fringes on her shawl.
"Oh, Lionel, you silly charmer, since when have you and I had time for romance? I daresay you'd hardly know what it is anymore!"
"Well, not since the children, certainly," Lionel agreed. "But this does recall to mind our courting days, doesn't it, Gustie? You and I would sneak out into the night once your parents had gone to sleep…we'd skip rocks in Lilac Lake, stroll down Bunny Trail…and then, Gustie, do you remember what we'd do in the Daffodil Forest?"
Augusta, blushing profusely, began to giggle once more and playfully swat Lionel on his arm.
"Oh, Lionel, do stop! I'd absolutely die if you said those things out loud!"
So instead of announcing it loudly for all the trees to hear, Lionel bent down and began whispering their activities as young lovers –in great detail- into his wife's ear. Her laugh got louder and more shriek-like as he did so, and so she was forced to clap her hands over her mouth. He couldn't really see her face, thanks to the obscuring bonnet and the darkness of the forest, but Lionel was sure she was now redder than a vine-ripe tomato.
"Oh, do stop, this is just too emb-"
But it was at that moment that the sound of twigs breaking and something moving quickly through the leaves –and not too far away from them-, spoiled the fun. Lionel immediately stood upright, and Augusta pressed herself closer to him than she ever had before.
"Darling…" she whispered, her voice quivering. "What do you suppose…?"
Lionel huffed again, straightening the lapels of his coat.
"Come, love, let's hasten our step. We're not far from the doors…"
The two did so, but didn't get much farther from their former position when the sound came again. Unfortunately, it seemed to be emanating from the direction of the clearing- the exact direction in which they needed to head to return home.
Augusta began to tremble and clutch the fabric of her husband's coat.
"Lionel, I'm frightened…" she whimpered.
He rubbed her back reassuringly, and urged them both behind a nearby tree trunk. From here, he kept a watchful eye on the moonlit circle of trees, hoping that the cause of the sound would soon reveal itself.
Being the occasional hunter, Lionel was a useful individual to have in one's company in a situation like this. Augusta knew this, as well as the fact that she wouldn't have preferred anyone else to be with her at this time. There was simply no one she trusted or felt safer with than her husband.
They waited silently for what felt like hours, though more than likely was only a handful of minutes. The sound was heard several more times, growing closer on every instance. Fortunately, it was isolated to the proximity of the clearing, so the couple's fear was based only in the revelation of what the creature might have been and not what it might do to them.
When the noise became so close to the open area that it was a certainty the maker would show itself at any moment, Lionel began to withdraw his pistol from its secured and unsuspecting location on his belt.
"Stay behind me," he murmured hastily to Augusta, as he made the first gradual steps outside the hiding spot.
Before they could make much leeway, however, the creature did as was expected and revealed itself; it came tumbling from the surrounding wall of trees in a blur and collapsed onto the moonlit floor of the clearing, seeming to be nothing more than a motionless pile of limbs. Neither Augusta nor Lionel was able to make out what sort of creature it was from where they currently stood.
The two of them continued onward, both a little relieved that the beast was probably dead or at the very least in a state of inertia. Lionel didn't lower his pistol any though, and Augusta remained behind him as per his instructions.
"Why, darling…" Augusta gasped as they took their first steps into the clearing. "I do believe it's…it's a young woman!"
He surveyed the figure for a moment, conceding in some part of him that it did somewhat resemble a young woman. Certainly, it had to have been female, at the very least.
When he was close enough, Lionel knelt down beside the alleged female and gingerly turned her over by the shoulder so as to get a good look at her face.
"Heavens, Lionel, she's a rag doll! She's almost exactly like the kind our little Lotte has, isn't she? That is, aside from the notable size difference, of course…"
He simply nodded and attempted to feel for some manner of pulse or indication that the female ragdoll was still living or in some state of being sentient, however it was defined in this odd world. He found a rather quickly beating one on the side of her neck, and so confirmed that she was still undead, as it were, if only barely.
"Well, she's not dead, dead, I suppose," he announced. "But most certainly unconscious…perhaps from exhaustion…"
Augusta came beside Lionel and marveled at the sight that was this unfamiliar being.
"That's a rather nice frock she has on…I wonder if she's come from a party of sorts?"
Lionel noticed a duffle bag nearby that had no doubt been flung from her grasp when she collapsed.
"Perhaps," he nodded, uncertain. "But not without an intent to make an escape."
"We shouldn't leave her here, love," Augusta pointed out, almost pleadingly. "We must take her back with us and make an attempt to nurse her back to health…or whatever state is considered normal for someone like her."
Lionel sighed audibly, knowing full-well that neither his conscience nor his wife would allow him to leave this poor doll woman in the woods. What was unfortunate, however, was the fact that carrying a being from one Holiday world to the next was assimilation at its finest, and he was loath to taint the perfection that was Easter with something from Halloween. The two were nearly exact opposites of each other, for crying out loud…
Still, it was more than apparent that he was in no position to argue. The choice had already been made.
So Lionel stood, sweeping the ungainly, limp form of the rag doll into his arms and Augusta nodded to him approvingly before fetching the duffle bag. The two then approached the Easter Egg door, and Augusta obliged to open it.
Following this, the three of them were almost immediately swallowed into the trunk by a pink, sugar-scented cloud of lily petals.
Tivona lay sprawled out on her bed convulsing in sobs, her watery mascara now painting her cheekbones and eyelids in globby, black tears.
Meanwhile, Jack sat shamefully at the edge, his skull hanging morosely from his shoulders. Despite not knowing what in the world he could say to justify or right what he'd done not an hour ago, he had offered Tivona whatever manner of apology he could muster. None, apparently, were sufficient.
"How could you do this to me?" she sobbed loudly for the tenth time that evening. "How could you do something so hurtful the night before our wedding?"
Jack swung his legs over on to the mattress, and attempted to caress her shoulder. She swiftly nudged him away and rolled over on her side, making her back face him directly.
"Ko'u aloha, please…" he cooed. "I've told you already. That kiss was simply a result of impulsivity, brought on by stress and fear, and that's truly all it was- just one kiss. Furthermore, it was over as soon as it had begun…"
"You love her!" Tivona insisted, her cries somewhat muffled by the girth of a pillow. "You've loved her this whole time and you've just been keeping it from me!"
Internally, Jack assured himself this was not the case. It just couldn't be.
"I love you," he insisted. "Sally is my friend."
She then turned sharply onto her back to stare daggers at him.
"Not anymore!" she growled. "Not if I have anything to do with it!"
Tivona then stood from the bed and stomped a few feet away from it, crossing her arms tightly over her chest and keeping her back facing her fiancé.
"I wanted you to banish her when you had the chance."
Jack sighed loudly, the reminder of Sally's departure making his metaphorical heart break even more than it had already that evening.
"She's gone now, Tivona," he murmured, trying to hide his grief. "Perhaps for good. My banishing her would have been pointless."
He then took a moment to survey her resilient form as it stood, silent and furious, but gorgeous as ever. He had to believe that all that had transpired that night did so for a reason, that the possible loss of his closest friend was not only the will of the fates, but a worthy exchange for Tivona's hand in marriage. It was somewhat difficult, what with her yelling and accusing him of being a liar (not that he didn't think he deserved it), but the fact remained; he simply had to believe.
So he boldly rose from the bed and came up behind her, proceeding to place bony hands on her thin, snow-white shoulders. She didn't flinch or nudge him off, which he interpreted as an encouraging sign of progress.
"I love you," he muttered. He allowed his hands to then slightly caress her shoulders.
She barely turned her head to survey him out of the corner of her eye.
"Prove it."
He bent down and placed a cold, skeletal kiss on the slope of her neck. "What must I do?"
She then faced him completely, her jaw still grit tightly in anger.
"Kneel down." She instructed, removing his hands from where they had now drifted to her forearms. "Kneel down before me."
Her golden-violet eyes remained locked with his sockets, and the more they bore into him, the less able he was to refuse her or even so much as argue. Obediently, he dropped to one knee cap and took her hands pleadingly into his own.
"Now, beg for forgiveness."
"Ko'u aloha, I-"
"Don't you dare call me that!" she shrieked, stamping her foot and making him flinch. "If you want me to be your queen you will call me by name!"
He nodded profusely. "Tivona…I beg for your forgiveness."
"Tell me I'm beautiful!"
"You're beautiful-"
"Tell me I'm the most gorgeous woman you've ever seen!"
"You're the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen…"
"Tell me there's no one you love more than me!"
He paused, somehow unable to acquiesce to this demand. For what reason, he wasn't sure, but the words simply wouldn't come. He had apparently hesitated too long, as Tivona immediately smacked the back of his skull, causing him to momentarily cry out.
"Tell me!"
In the heat of the moment, Jack was able to choke it out. "Gah..!-There's no one I love more than you!"
As he hissed slightly from the force of her strike, she helped him back to his feet with a surprising amount of tenderness.
"Now…" she whispered softly. "Ask me again to marry you, and make it sincere…"
He rubbed the part of his skull that had endured the blow, wanting to send her a look of wounded accusation. But he was quick to remind himself what he had done to earn her fury in the first place, and decided her strike was just as warranted. Furthermore, her dazzling eyes had made contact with his sockets yet again, enchanting him just as much as they had the day he first laid eyes on her.
In that moment, there seemed to be no one he loved or wanted more than she, rendering his statement from before almost sincere.
He then direly gripped her hands, eying her as wantonly as would a child to a slice of cake.
"Tivona O'Dwyer…please marry me…please…"
She seemed pleased with the fact that this his revised proposal sounded dangerously close to a plea.
"Alright," she grinned, her anger miraculously melting away. "I'll marry you, Jack."
He then wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close to him and began to hungrily shower her neck, cheek and forehead in the same cold, hollow pecks she had become all-too familiar with. As unpleasant as they truly were, she still pretended to get some matter of sensual pleasure from them by gripping the back of his neck and pulling his skull in closer to her.
"One more condition," she whispered into the place where an ear would normally be.
"Anything." He mumbled, his speech muffled by her flesh.
"I want a castle."
"A castle?"
"Yes, as a wedding present. I don't want to live in this dinky mansion. We shouldn't have to, we'll be King and Queen."
"Alright," he consented, sighing into her skin. "A castle. I'll have the magic folk conjure one up this evening."
Grinning wickedly, Tivona immediately extracted Jack from her person.
"It is improper for us to be together the night before the wedding," she playfully scolded. "And we both need our rest."
She then turned him around by the shoulders and began to nudge him closer to the door.
Before he could fully exit, however, he turned back and brought her into his arms once more, planting a forceful, passionate kiss on her full lips. Again, she forced herself to pretend to find this appealing.
"Goodnight, ko'u aloha," he sighed, once he had released her and their mouths had detached.
As soon as he had fully exited the room and was on his way back downstairs, Tivona rushed to her private bathroom and worked furiously to remove the hideous smears of mascara that still rimmed her eyes like a malformed raccoon.
While she renewed her makeup, she stole occasional glances towards the bedroom window (an admittedly very difficult feat, given it was her eye-liner and mascara she was freshening), hoping against hope he'd be later than he said he would.
"Is all of that effort just for me? How touching."
She didn't need to immediately whip around to see who had provided the commentary. There was only one man whose voice had ever been able to give her shivers.
"Don't flatter yourself, Septimus." She chided, continuing to work tirelessly on her appearance.
Cold, silk hands were suddenly on her shoulders, and a mouth and nose caressed the slope of neck, the crook of her ear. Despite not being much warmer than Jack, it was refreshing to at least feel flesh against flesh. She sighed into the ministrations, nearly dropping her eyebrow pencil onto the counter in abandon.
"It's midnight, my darling…" Septimus whispered into her skin. "The 31st. Halloween. There's only one day left for you…"
Her eyes popped open at that, and he backed away, eyeing her expectantly. She remained where she was, half bent over the sink and staring pensively at the countertop. He simply snickered and left her where she was to take a brief, evaluating stroll around bathroom.
"Rough night?" he asked, gesturing with a bottle of fake tears that sat on an open surface.
She exhaled cathartically.
"Jack was caught kissing that rag doll assistant of his earlier in the evening."
There was an uncomfortable pause following this statement. Septimus began to glare at the bottle he now rolled around in his palm, hoping Tivona would finish the story on her own.
"…And?" he nearly growled in impatience. She didn't seem to notice.
"Well, I had to get back my upper hand, somehow. Naturally, I threw a fit, wrung him out dry, and had him eating out of the palm of my hand by the time it was over."
"Good girl. And what would you say has become of the ragdoll?"
Tivona scoffed and idly primped her hair. "'Be damned if I know. She apparently made a break for it. I'm hoping she got eaten by a werewolf or something like that."
Septimus smirked to himself, and abandoned the bottle to snake hands around her hips, once more pressing his nose into the nape of her neck.
"And have we made any decisions yet, my love?"
She suddenly turned to face him and then sat up on the bathroom counter, proceeding to wrap her legs around his torso. He trailed hands up her spine, across her thighs, and back again. When he kissed her collar bone and trailed downward, flicking a cold tongue over the very top of her breast, she cackled wickedly.
"I'd want to be like this with you forever," she smirked. "Even if I had a choice about the whole thing…"
Gripping the backs her thighs, he jerked her in closer to him. She elicited a soft moan in response, one he suspected was more theatrical than genuine. It didn't matter now, though. There'd be plenty of time to make her cry out, whether she wanted to or not. For the time being, he planned to take the immediate reward that lay before him.
"I'm assuming that's a yes," he hissed. "But it hardly matters, either way. I'm taking you as my own."
He suddenly gripped a handful of her thick hair and forcibly yanked it, bringing her head backwards with an unnatural lurch. This time, she gasped involuntarily and her mouth hung open in a silent scream. Her neck was now empty and sloped and bare, rising before his watering mouth in all of its pure white, pulsating glory. He could almost hear the hot rivers of blood flowing uninterrupted through the cords of raised vein. The smell- that sweet, warm, human smell- was almost his ruin. It flooded his nostrils and his mind swam in it. It had been far too long since he'd had a mortal like this; a young, spry mortal with blood that was sure to be both fresh and ambrosial. His mouth was flooding, his eyes almost reeling completely backwards in his skull. She was a feast in every sense of the word.
Unable to control himself any longer, even in the name of savoring the senses, Septimus plunged into her supple skin. The hot, delicious geysers erupted immediately into his mouth, onto his tongue, in the back of his throat, and yet he retained enough of his composure to keep the explosion isolated. He simply couldn't have the bathroom bathed in evidence, after all.
Tivona's sighs and gasps were now evolving into full-fledged moans. Her thighs tightened around his waist, and her hands had woven themselves into his hair and were gripping his skull and neck direly, pulling him in closer- as if that were even necessary. Luckily for her –as for any victim of a vampire- the bites themselves were orgasmic both for giver and receiver.
Eventually, the waves began to noticeably subside, but Septimus wouldn't completely cease until the very last moment. She was too delicious to go to waste, even if it meant killing her and ruining his plan completely. As soon as she had given a final, satisfied cry of completion, Septimus stifled the flow and withdrew his fangs. She shuddered as he exited her, proceeding to immediately faint limply back into his arms.
He chuckled as he gathered her up and carried her from bathroom counter top to bed, surveying her new appearance all the while. She was now tainted with the same affliction that lorded over all the beings in Halloween Town, and her frigid, ice-cold skin stood as evidence to it.
Her blurry, sleep-ridden eyes were compelled to open by sunlight more bright and yellow than anything she'd seen before. Her nose was assailed by a fresh, sugary-like cotton smell, as her sight began to adjust to survey her unfamiliar surroundings.
The vision of a white, pastel-accented room gradually registered clear when her eyes had gotten accustom to the odd light. The copious amounts of brightly-colored objects, coupled with the already brightly-lit room, made her feel slightly nauseated. Never in her existence had she seen something so odd, or so grotesque.
Moving slowly so as to avoid any kind of shock, Sally came to a seated position on the pink and white bed, clutching the floral quilt to her chest as she did so. She took a moment to soak in the sight of the room, which she began to realize was more of a small cottage than an interior extension to a larger home. The walls were entirely off-white, and most of the furniture was regular wood, as anyone would use. Yet the decoration was, as mentioned before, all in different shades of light pink, baby blue, yellow, and kelly green. Statuettes and small stuffed animals of things like big-eyed frogs, fat, grinning little chicks, and rosy-cheeked rabbits sat on various open surfaces. Living, colorful arrangements of flowers also decorated the area, adding to the already overwhelming smell.
While the pleasant chirps of most-certainly-very-alive bluebirds serenaded her from the fountain just outside the nearest window, Sally cradled her pounding head and tried to remember exactly what happened last night. How did she go from impulsively kissing her best friend, thereby possibly ruining his chance at happiness, to running through the streets of Halloween Town en route to the Hinterlands, to…a blank, followed by the current memory of waking up here…? Obviously, there was something very important missing from the timeline, but despite wracking her brain over and over again for possibilities she still came up completely empty-handed. Much in the same way that a memory of a dream slowly fades after one wakes, so did her recollections of the night before.
It was then that footsteps could be heard outside, no doubt coming down a path to the door that stood directly in front of her. Sally didn't bother to try and make an escape. For one thing, she figured whoever it was that was going to enter probably had an explanation or two that could clear things up. For another, her surroundings were too positive and benign to make her think she was being held captive, at least not by anything menacing. So she waited, and watched the shadow on the window of the front door fumble with the keyhole and then turn the knob.
"Oh, splendid! You're awake!"
This was squealed by the blonde, apple-cheeked woman who had just entered. She was dressed in a pastel-blue, Victorian-era frock, and her shiny yellow locks were curled into bouncy tendrils that quivered with her every step. Her eyes were a bright and sparkling sapphire blue and they twinkled in the unnaturally overpowering light of the sun. What Sally took the most notice of, however, was how pink and flushed the woman's skin was. She hadn't seen such a being outside of Dr. Finklestein's medical books, and she began to ponder the possibility of this woman being a human. Had she somehow made her way up to the living world? According to the laws of the portal, that was allegedly impossible; even still, she was inarguably in the presence of a human, of that much she was certain.
"Pardon me, mam," Sally began, tentatively. "But may I ask where I am?"
"Oh, of course!" the woman exclaimed, quickly shutting the door behind her and bounding over to sit on the edge of the bed. "How absolutely rude of me, and you must be positively terrified! You're currently in Easter Town, and my name is Augusta Price. My husband, Lionel, and I found you unconscious last night on our way home."
Easter Town…Sally marveled, gazing around the room once more with the newfound knowledge. Well, that certainly explains a lot!
"I'm sorry, but…you found me? Here in Easter Town?"
Augusta laughed, her head falling back slightly.
"Oh, heavens no. My husband and I were returning from…visiting friends in Halloween Town, and we found you sprawled out in the clearing of the Holiday Doors, completely knackered! Well we knew we couldn't simply just leave you there, so we elected to take you along with us and nurse you back to health. So…do you feel…hmm…healthy?"
Sally nodded halfheartedly, still trying to process the information.
"I was just…lying unconscious?"
Augusta nodded. "Most definitely…er, that is, you were running a bit, apparently, before collapsing in the place that we found you. From what though, I haven't the foggiest! In fact, Lionel and I were somewhat hoping you could shed some light on the situation…?"
Sally laughed a little and shook her head. "I'm sorry, I…I don't remember anything. I was on my way out of Halloween Town, that much I know…but I don't remember ever even reaching the forest."
Augusta sighed, clicked her tongue, and made a very insincere expression of disappointment.
"Well, that's a shame. Lionel and I were ever so curious. Well, never mind all of that, what's important is that you're safe and healthy now!"
Immediately regaining her positive nature to its fullest, Augusta rose and sauntered across the small living room to the equally-as-small kitchen in the far corner of the cottage. Sally couldn't see her completely from where she still sat on the bed, though she could hear the unmistakable sounds of tea being made.
"If you don't mind me asking for it," called Augusta's chime-like voice. "I'd like to know your name, miss!"
Inwardly cursing herself for being so rude as to have not already given it, Sally replied, "Oh yes, of course, it's Sally Stitches!"
The infectious giggle rang out through the small, tiled-corner that was the cottage kitchen.
"Sally Stitches? Oh how precious!"
Sally made herself not take the rather patronizing comment too personally. Certainly, Augusta's intention was not to offend, and even if it was, it was the least she could allow her most gracious host. She also suspected that the Easter Town beings were not accustom to rag dolls being sentient, and it was therefore probably much easier for them to relate on a basis they were both comfortable and familiar with.
"Thank you," Sally managed, gathering herself from the bed and realizing she was still wearing the uncomfortable bridesmaids' dress. It stood as an immediate reminder that it was not only Halloween today, but also the date of Jack and Tivona's wedding.
That is, assuming said wedding was even still taking place, given she and Jack's mistake last night. Her heart metaphorically sank in her chest a little, as it had been doing ever since Tivona made her appearance in Halloween Town. This time, however, the feeling was a bit more prominent and harder to ignore.
"I do hope you like tea!" chimed Augusta as she came back in the room with a full tray, successfully interrupting Sally's unpleasant train of thought.
"Oh…yes, thank you," she conceded, despite knowing that this tea would probably be sweet and pleasant and completely unappealing to her. "You're very kind."
After placing the tray on the coffee table in the middle of the living room, Augusta wrung her hands and glanced nervously at Sally.
"Forgive me if this is a foolish question, but…do you…eat…breakfast?"
The ragdoll nodded once more, smiling patiently. "I do, and it's not a foolish question. I can understand why one might wonder."
"Oh, thank goodness for that! Well, if you're in the mood for it, I can have some sent to you from the house kitchen. We've all just finished our morning meal, but there is more than enough left over for you."
Sally hesitated a moment, knowing full-well how empty and demanding her stomach currently was, yet also being aware of how unappetizing this human food would be. Still, she thought, she'd never actually tried human food. Just because it wasn't usually swimming in blood or pickled eyeballs didn't necessarily mean it would be unpalatable.
So she nodded, widening her polite grin.
"Yes, thank you, I'm quite hungry."
Augusta seemed very pleased with this answer, obviously delighted to have a guest she could cater to.
"Splendid! Then I'll away to the kitchen!"
She had only just opened the door to the cottage, however, before immediately swirling around on her heel to face Sally once more.
"Oh, and I meant to point out how lovely your frock is," she began, clearly not being entirely candid about her true opinion. Sally knew this to be a lie, simply because the dress was not only unfinished, but ripped, torn, and soiled from her mysterious activities last night. Obviously, this was hardly the definition of what Augusta would qualify as lovely. "But I thought, perhaps, you might want a replacement? I'd absolutely love to take you shopping this afternoon, Miss Stitches! You'll just adore our downtown!"
Sally pinched either side of her dress and held out it outward to inspect the rather extensive damage. A quick look at the corner armchair, however, told her the duffle bag had apparently made it in with her after all, and so she technically had replacement dresses. Still, if Augusta's clothing was any indication of how the people dressed here, Sally would hardly fit in with what she currently had.
So she nodded for the second time that morning.
"Sure, shopping sounds like fun."
Augusta squealed again and then finally exited, attempting to close the cottage door, but somehow only making it bounce against the latch in her overwhelming mirth.
Sally sighed, both amused and charmed by Augusta's bubbly demeanor (which more-than-slightly reminded her of Ziggy) and came over to finish closing the door herself. When she got closer, however, she heard the voice of Augusta speaking to what was undoubtedly a small child, most likely a girl.
"What in the world are you loitering out here for?" Augusta asked, her teasing tone of voice betraying the demanding choice of words.
"Nothing." the small, mouse-like voice squeaked back.
"You want to see our guest, don't you, Lotte?"
When there was no squeak in response, Sally assumed the girl was probably nodding her head.
"Well then for heaven's sake, go introduce yourself, my love. It's poor manners to just stand outside someone's abode like this. Besides, poor Miss Sally could do with some welcoming words. I'm sure she's quite uncomfortable with being immersed in a town so different from her own. Go on now, darling, don't be shy!"
Sally could hear the clunky heels of Augusta's shoes crunch down the gravel walk halfway, before calling back to Lotte, "And don't forget to knock, darling!"
In anticipation of her likely guest, Sally left the door as it was and turned to the tray of tea, hoping to seem completely occupied when the girl eventually entered.
"Come in!" Sally beckoned to the ungraceful knock that soon occurred.
The hinges whined a little as the door was swung open, and a flood of the bright golden sunlight invaded the room. Squinting, Sally glanced over to see a three foot five, curly blonde-haired girl standing in the entryway. She was wearing a long dress of light blue and white with accents of various floral patterns, and had a floppy, hand-sewn doll clutched in her short arms.
She gazed fixatedly at Sally with large, curious, azure eyes. One of her hands mindlessly twisted her bottom lip as she did so, undoubtedly a sign of nervous apprehension.
"Hello," Sally said softly, offering a smile.
The girl, Lotte, didn't respond, and instead continued to stare in silence.
"Are you Mrs. Price's daughter?"
Lotte eventually nodded, her curls bouncing in a similar fashion to her mother's.
"Your name wouldn't be Lotte, would it?"
Lotte nodded again, this time more ardently. Sally chuckled a little through her nose, and proceeded to sit and continue preparing a cup of tea for herself, hopeful that the lack of attention towards her would induce the child to speak.
"What's your name?" the mousy voice finally managed.
She briefly smiled at Lotte again, not taking too much time away from preparing her tea.
"Sally Stitches."
There was another moment of silence, during which Lotte ventured a bit farther into the cottage, still staring fixedly at the tea-drinking rag doll and toying idly with her lower lip.
"Are you my ragdoll now?" the girl ventured, her voice having suddenly become much louder and coherent.
Sally looked up from her tea. "Am I…what?"
Lotte gingerly crept from the front door to the living room area, shyly standing behind a strategically placed rocking chair and eying Sally through the open slats on the back.
"Mum and Papa sometimes bring me back dolls…" she explained. "You look like a doll."
Sally thought for a moment at how to best address this concern. She could easily see how Lotte might have come to that conclusion, and the only reason she had to have asked and not assumed it was the truth was the mere fact that this ragdoll could walk and talk as easily as any human. Really, it must have all been quite confusing.
"That's also a doll you have there, isn't it?" she asked, referring to the ungainly thing that now hung pendulously from Lotte's elbow.
Lotte nodded, coming out a little from behind the rocking chair.
"Does she have a name?"
"Yes, it's Lucy."
"Is Lucy your friend?"
Lotte seemed to consider this prospect for a moment by staring down at spineless Lucy and never ceasing to tug pensively at her lip. Finally, she met Sally's eyes again, seeming to have come to a conclusion.
"Yes, Lucy's my friend."
"Well, then since I am also a ragdoll, like Lucy, why don't I be your friend?" she offered. "It sounds so much less formal than 'your ragdoll', don't you think, Lotte?"
Lotte nodded again, having now revealed herself completely from behind the makeshift hiding spot.
"Lucy can take off her arm," Lotte felt compelled to point out. "But it doesn't hurt her."
Her perpetual stare at Sally suddenly became undeniably expectant, and it didn't take long for Sally to deduce what it was Lotte hoped she would demonstrate.
So she grinned wickedly and pinched two loops of string on her left shoulder before saying, "So can I."
With a purposeful tug, the thread holding her arm securely in place came unraveled, and her arm fell to the rug beneath coffee table in a shower of dry brown leaves.
Lotte clapped a hand over mouth, gasping in delight.
"And it doesn't hurt in the slightest," Sally announced triumphantly, gathering her arm up from the floor and holding it like one would a trophy.
This gesture seemed to be sufficient to make the young girl's metaphorical walls fall down, as she immediately hopped up onto the couch beside Sally without the slightest hesitation.
"Can I touch it, can I touch it?" she asked, bouncing on her ankles and reaching out for the severed appendage.
Sally smiled wider and more sincerely than she had in a very long time, and allowed Lotte to inspect her arm.