Chapter 23
A few stars brightly twinkled in the night sky over the Hopps Estate.
Mr. Pibbers, whose flowers bloomed so beautifully, had finally followed their example and opened up. His fantastical adventures from days as the notorious "Captain Savage" were outlandish enough to be dismissed for foolhardy yarns from a veteran mariner… and it was that secret shared by nearly the entire household which made his stories so utterly amazing. So much so that both the façade of the simpleton housefox and the cynicism of an obfuscated intellectual were tempered by Trudy, who seemed to wrap him around every finger of hers. He had no more reason to hide, in fact, every reason not to.
And yet, Lovey was cross.
Gus Turntide, the stalwart grocer of The Burrow, was branching into special deliveries thanks to the Hopps children who read the addresses of his packages for him so that he needn't memorize where they went. He'd even begun to work directly out of the Estate's kitchen, using their excess storage for his produce and distributing the occasional baked good. What's more, his and Ellie's pronunciation lessons from Lovey improved with each week so that their accents charmed rather than deterred, so much so that Ellie showed an aptitude for sharing her knowledge with the kits and pups of Musty Dale. It was especially fortuitous as she revealed to friends and family alike that she was with kit herself; the Turntide family was growing and the prospect of a larger homestead was, for the first time in Gus's life, a possibility.
And yet, Lovey was cross.
Sasha Sleek, whose skills in housekeeping helped the once-well-to-do rabbits of the Hopps Estate maintain a lifestyle, also aided in their learning to run a home whether it be cooking, cleaning, or mending. While such skills were not unknown, the clever mink demonstrated tricks and shortcuts to make more efficient use of their time, energy, and resources (ideals upheld by any respectable warren, no matter their place in society). It was her skill at grooming which really shone - as noticed by the other rabbits of The Burrow when a Hopps was out at market - so much so that Sasha was eventually convinced to pursue the trade. She (by Diocles's blessing) set aside an hour-and-a-half in the early afternoon to "properly style" a customer or two who, indeed, fancied the exemplary grooming of the Silver Belle at the peak of her prestige.
And yet, Lovey was cross
Oh, so very cross. Whether at anyone, in particular, the Hopps household could not determine and it was best not to inquire. Neither Mr. Pibbers nor Trudy, her cherished foxes, could correctly discern why she was in such a state. Not even her father, Diocles or her prized pupil, Otto had an inkling as to why she stormed about in a ladylike huff, hiding how her cheeks puffed and darkened with indignation. She immediately denied and cleverly subverted any probing until she could continue her crossness in secrecy. It was not until a sister of hers went to fetch the Steel Horn that she caught her ranting in front of the bedroom mirror…
"'Let them breed'?" Lovey chastised of her reflection, seemingly a well-practiced diatribe as she transitioned seamlessly onto the next portion, "Why not just 'let them' off a leash or sit at the table. If you actually managed to get your head out of the ground, you would recognize them as foxes - mammals - not some pet or thing to keep." And then she huffed again while pacing.
"Lovey?" the sister spoke up and poked her head through the door.
"Tiffany!" Lovey started and whisked about, a most unladylike behavior but then, she seemed awfully out of sorts of late. "My humblest apologies," she recovered, "How may I help you?"
She giggled, as most young does do. "Are you practicing for a play?"
"Oh, no no, that wasn't-"
Tiffany stepped further in and nearly closed the door behind her. "Was that meant for Daddy…?" she then interjected in a whisper.
"No!" Lovey assured, flushing a bit, "Stars Above, certainly not."
"You did blindside him, requesting that his blessing for your marriage go to Ms. Trudy and Mr. Pibbers, instead," she then said, having her turn at rebuking with a gentle wag of her finger, "It was downright sly." Lovey rebuffed her with a cynical scowl before joining her in giggling. "If utterly romantic," Tiffany swooned, blushing to fill her ears.
The Silver Belle sighed as she gathered her books on reading and writing comprehension. "I am at odds with myself…"
"That is a rarity."
Lovey quietly harrumphed but hardly had a counter, so she hugged a book to her bosom and gazed out the window and the Burrow… and the kingdom beyond, knowing how powerless she was to help anyone out there, from the palace to the Iron Bridge… "What more can I do when my song is not enough…?"
"In any case," Tiffany tacked on as she slid back out the door, "you'll be late for your class if you dawdle much longer, big sister. 'It is unbecoming of both a Hopps and a lady-'"
"'To dare be truant for one's own event'," Lovey finished, remembering well the quote of their mother, a bittersweet memory though she was, "Yes, I know-" The door was left ajar as Lovey felt adrift in her own mind… reading and rereading the title of her own lessons book as though for the first time in her life. "I know…" she repeated, caressing its cover, soon awash with so paradoxical a sensation as cold dread and warm serenity, "I know what I must do." She set the text down as a single tear from each eye was spared, longing toward the eastern horizon and remembering the sunrise several hours before. "Stars Above…" the Silver Belle paused and steeled herself, crawling up on the window seat to kneel, crossing her fingers and bowing her head, "O Aslan… O Vernal Husband… help me… I wish for every blessing You have…"
"Only I."
A private performance was afforded every third week at the Hopps Estate, and in time, its gardens sang with a divine voice… though not for very long or too often. The Burrow knew who it was but dared not press or seek it too readily for fear it would be scared off again and her lighthearted ditties were widely welcomed. So much so, that many an ear sprung and activities quieted to listen to the angelic echoes of a heart touched again by hope. Additionally, there were plentiful kits from not only Primrose Court, but all of The Burrow's households who gathered in the dozen-dozens for lessons in reading, comprehension, diction, and if they were especially lucky, they might get to hear a lullaby just for them.
Mr. Earwicket did permit the use of his theatre during off-hours for Lovey to teach adults, for even though she and her still mysterious composer, "Mr. Unnamed", wrote songs that were sold in shops across the kingdom, she did not feel the stage call for her arias anymore. After all, there were other starlets who rose in prominence and prestige in her absence, some further than she did, moving on to grander venues nearer Forestdwell's center. As for Lovey, she would sing a favorite to all her students that attended classes in the theatre: "If You Would Come With Me". It was a marvel of lyrics and melody which spanned a vocal range in classical style while also simple enough to hum and put words to with ease. So simple, even children and the least musically adept could manage it.
One day, when Lovey was teaching a group of adults who'd not fully learned their letters, she'd called up one of her bravest students to write his name upon the chalkboard.
He'd written a "G". It was by no means the King's Script but none could deny that its tidy curve executing in a hard angle was rigorously practiced.
He then wrote a "U" whose lines were parallel until meeting in a bowl; a clear and concise letter was it (one he especially frequented).
And then he began writing the "S". "S"s always confused him because it was so similar to "C" (which was one of the first letters to learn) but it wasn't "C" (which could also be confused for a "K") but then he remembered that "twist" did not have a "C", it had an "S" (just like Lovey taught him) so he twisted his wrist to double-back.
The student took a moment to admire so balanced an "S" before he had to write it a second time and thus, finish his name: "AUGUSTUS". Luckily for him, the trickiest tribulation in that penultimate test of basic comprehension was to elaborate on how his nickname was derived; he need only to (cleverly) underline "GUS".
"Oh, simply marvelous!" Lovey gushed and clapped her dainty paws. Big Gus bashfully stepped aside for his fellow adult students to applaud, howl, and roar their congratulations for his bravery to tackle such a long word in front of everyone. His mate, Ellie cheered the heartiest. Each and every one of the class was a predator, a "shifty", from small otters to large lynxes, from sly foxes to fierce badgers. Their chairs were spread in a fan upon the rear of the stage with the chalkboard at the fore (so that anyone standing at it would not feel intimidated by the empty seats of the audience). Some had only learned to recognize their own names, others a few words, mostly by their own cleverness, but none truly grasped the comprehension of reading… until they were taught. And with it, the liberation of knowledge about their world.
"I thank you, Miss Hopps," he enunciated, nearly gushing himself but with tears. Lovey grasped his mitt-of-a-paw in both of hers before he sat down (to some further, quieter back-patting).
The cheering immediately ceased when bells seeped in through the theatre's front door until it was a din, a warning each and every shifty learned to fear lest they be caught imposing their "influence" upon helpless prey. As was custom… reaction, clawed fingers tucked into padded palms and grinning fangs hid behind closed lips; heads bowed and tails tucked, eyes averted and seats shifted to await the arrival of the Blessed Court. If they were especially lucky, the bells passed them by… but that was the chance for soft bells, brass bells that jingled and chimed, carried by rabbits or squirrels or other small prey… it told them that the vigilant Blessed Court was nearby…
But no… what came for them were the heavy, terrible iron bells that struck the air with their clanging majesty… Such were bells boasted by the largest prey, prey that could pin even the strongest shifty beneath their stony hooves or tusks. Each of Lovey's students knew the risk of learning to read and write but they trusted that she would protect them… and so… she walked around the chalkboard, ears held high to greet whom came through the theatre's front door.
Light glinted off a pair of spanning, metal antlers curved and sharp with simple artistry and authority, the standard helm of a doe in the King's guard, and that particular magnificence worn only by the captain thereof. She was tall for the theatre and towered over the seats, head ducking just enough to avoid the upper reaches of the door (though… perhaps letting her metal tongs scrape its frame the slightest bit), a cloak of rich forest green with embroidered gold shone, as did her armor, as she strode down the center aisle. Step-by-step, the iron bells marked her approach as upheld by the banner of the Crossed-Crows, the House of Blessings.
"Miss Laverne Hopps," she said and the rabbit in question politely curtseyed.
"Good evening, Ma'am," Lovey responded quite coolly, quite amiably. Her students remained absolutely still in the knowledge that the two (albeit bigger) stags flanking their captain was only a small selection of who surrounded them, and the interjection of several tons of force was possible within a matter of seconds. "How may I be of service to so distinguished-?"
"You can cut the pleasantries," the Guard Captain snapped and the Silver Belle courteously abided, the stags astride kept their immediate distance as she approached the stage, still standing much taller than whom she addressed. "This needn't result in bloodshed, Miss Hopps," came the offer.
"I agree." Indeed, she was unshaken.
The doe jut her jaw. "I am here to apprehend these criminals," she clarified, gesturing an armored hoof to the cowering shifties at large, "of which there are multiple reports about, from the palace to the Iron Bridge."
"Incorrect," Lovey retorted with a dainty smoothing of her dress; the Guard Captain flinched and her eye twitched, the stags behind her exchanging momentary bewilderment, "they are not to be apprehended because they are not criminals. Furthermore-" she went on, practiced exposition at the ready.
The doe ground her teeth. "These shifties are literate," she declared, her demeanor granting no quarter for sly games of any sort. A graceful step was all that she needed to prop herself up onto the stage and though she would not be the largest mammal there, she certainly dwarfed any who dared rise from their seats.
"See here-!" Lovey attempted but it was too late, for a knight of the Blessed Court knew best how to spot a literate shifty. She first pulled the chalkboard back to read what was written upon it… and immediately scanned all the betraying recognition in those blanching students. "That is uncalled for!" the rabbit rebuked, scurrying nearer.
The Guard Captain grinned, for surely, her experience caught sight of the hastily hidden papers and classwork tucked away in coats, under seats, and behind backs. "Who is 'Augustus'?" she quietly demanded but when no one responded, her nostrils flared and gaze swept the dreading lot, "Stand up, 'Gus'." Yet still, all remained petrified under her watch. Suddenly, with a harsh shove was the chalkboard discarded and she pointed to a flinching ferret to announce, "You look like a 'Gus'. Collar him."
"No!" Lovey pleaded as the ferret yelped and flailed, for one of the stags pulled out a rod with a noose at the end, perfect for catching a panicked shifty, and with an athletic bound he was on the stage and charging.
"I wrote it!" Big Gus yelled, at his feet and nearly throwing himself in front of the sobbing ferret, "I'm Augustus and that's my writing." His mate and fellow students muted their terror… knowing that there was no hope for him after such an admission. So, the stag looped the noose around his neck instead to be knelt before the armored doe. A frightful growl came from Ellie but it was quieted immediately by the lightning draw of a sword.
"I suggest you calm yourself, Mrs. Wolverine," the Guard Captain warned, glistening steel already pointed as she then considered, "I can see you are with… cub, I think it's called? I have a faun myself," she then said, sword never lowering, "and would rather not deal with the paperwork for harming a 'pedigree'… assuming you are of such. Now," the Guard Captain continued, sheathing her weapon only when Ellie and every other shifty sat down again, and then retrieved a notebook, "who taught you to read and write, Mr. Wolverine?"
No answer came as the bitten-back whines, whimpers, and mewls of the students nearly deafened. Gus heaved as he screwed his eyes shut so that a frightened glance would not betray his teacher and friend…
"If you do not answer," the Guard Captain conversed, "I am permitted to exact immediate retribution for the literacy of you and your cohorts, and so sever any further attempts to lead astray the good citizens of Forestdwell." She nodded to the Guards at the theatre's door when neither Gus nor anyone else responded and so brought in a royal surgeon, who could remove an eye or a paw as swiftly and painlessly as possible… and with their mobile tools, do so anywhere in the kingdom.
"It was I," rang a small voice, who found that fear no longer clutched her heart… a fear that stayed her from saving a life before.
The Guard Captain flicked an ear before addressing the tiny rabbit and sighed, flipping the notebook shut. "As well it would be," she accepted, "It is a more a disappointment than a surprise, Miss Hopps, I am rather fond of your songs… though I suppose one literate wolverine would not be the fall of the kingdom." The surgeon then set their bag on the stage and pulled out a device that, quite clearly, was designed for the quick and clean removal of a paw and another that, quite clearly, attached to the skull for the quick and clean removal of an eye. "You shall receive your summons to appear before the Blessed Court in the mail, then."
Big Gus was brought closer, his spirit resisted but his body did not. Ellie was kept back but not by any of her fellow shifties, for it was the same fear which kept them all at bay.
"Stop!" Lovey then shouted, hurrying over, "Only I taught him to read, no one else."
Quivering eyes marveled at her.
Vehement eyes doubted her. "This wolverine did not teach himself?"
"No, he did not," Lovey assured, courage mounting with every word.
"Miss Lovey…" Gus choked through the noose, "No…!"
"By right afforded to me by the Hexward Tenets-" she continued.
"Do not quote me the Tenets, Miss Hopps," the Guard Captain cut in, a hoof stamping the stage, another itching at the hilt of her sword while another still thrust into the air, "You and I know full well the punishment for empowering a shifty's influence on those of us who need protection from it, from them," she said.
Lovey stood taller. "Then so be it. Take my eye," she offered, stepping forward, "take them both and both my paws, if need be."
The doe stiffened, gripping the hilt tighter. "Cease your games, rabbit, that is not the punishment for heresy. But perhaps you are ill, hexed by this sorry lot," she reviled, glaring at them.
"Incorrect!" Lovey repeated, "I, Laverne Hopps, of sound mind and body do hereby declare that I taught these small predators to read and write… uncoerced."
"…All of them?"
"Each and every one," she affirmed and allowed herself to gaze upon them with pride as they gazed back, raptly, "and let it be known that it was I and I alone who did so, should anyone inquire."
The doe scratched the tip of her hoof along the sword's handle before inclining to whisper. "There is still a chance to walk away from this, Miss Hopps," she offered, "I take one of his eyes, you give me a list of whom all you taught, and we say that's that. He will hardly even feel it," she said, nodding at the wolverine.
Lovey studied the does' face and simply, daintily straightened her dress again before saying, "I do believe I - not they - am to be arrested pending trial since no one else can come forward to dispute my claim of responsibility; in adherence to the Tenets."
The Guard Captain stared at Lovey in doubt, betrayal, and cynicism. "Indeed," she admitted through her teeth and directed the stag to release Gus and for the surgeon to put away their tools, "come along, Miss Hopps," she ordered. As the stag collapsed the noose-ended-rod, he instead pulled out a folding cage with a small bench and secured it.
Lovey lay flat her ears and willingly stepped inside. The door locked as she stood and watched her students clamber to their feet with soft cries for her, some even following (at a distance) as the royal guards carried her off. She knew it was only a matter of time, that she could not sly her way out of every guard who discovered their sordid class… She knew she had to be strong for her students and she was… maybe not as long as she'd hoped, though…
"No!" Gus cried again when he could stand, nearly rushing to the front of the other small predators as the Royal Guard exited the theatre, he pushing a door open, "Wait!" Many ears and eyes turned to him, Lovey's filled with tears as he suddenly barked in pain… and pulled his paw away from his own bloody eye-socket. "If you want an eye, then take it!" he roared, chucking it high overhead to land at the Guard Captain's hooves, "Jus' give her back!"
"Gus!" Lovey called, assuaging his ire, "Only I am culpable… and Stars Above, only I shall face the punishment… please." And so, he and all under her tutelage kept their distance, watching in despair as their beloved Silver Belle was carted off. The Guard Captain had turned a blind eye to Gus's outburst… but it could not be unseen.
"Only I."
The Forestdwell prisons were unkind, as such places tend to be. Luckily, a section was set aside for mammals of Lovey's ilk… namely, those that were minuscule and heretics of the highest order. She wore sackcloth but was prevented any physical contact, for fear that her blasphemous ways would infect others who could still be saved. Her cage was big enough to stand ears-erect, move around, and she could hear noises from outside (such as the occasional bird or weather). What few times her family was allowed to visit proved small mercy (who also managed to sneak in her diary). Every day and night, Lovey was beset by… not visitors but mockers, slanderers, and even at times… beseechers who tried to turn her from whatever "influence" she might have "suffered from". She tried to sing as she had in the past and though suffered from terrible depression in her lavish home of Primrose Court, found that those worst times could not compare to that ironclad pit, where she could not even hear the voice of another to brace her spirit…
"Lovey?" someone whispered at day's end. He was familiar and so repeated, "Lovey?"
She sprung awake, remembering him from what felt like ages ago. "Mr. Kingsfox!" she nearly cried, as that older tod whose colorations mirrored the king's stood outside her cage.
His smile was sad as his fingers reached in through the grid, her paw grasping one. "You're doing well, all things considered," he observed, the waning light baked a far wall and softly set his earthen fur aglow.
"I'm so, so very sorry that I spurned you when you last visited me," she begged, "I was in such a terrible state, blaming you and Wishes… please, forgive me…"
His chuckle was as sad as his smile. "It is in the past," he assured, "But tell me, why do you turn away those who would help you escape?" he asked, "This path ends only at the gallows." Grief struck his face as she released his finger and caressed the knuckle.
"If that is the consequence of my cowardice, then so be it…" she choked and then cleared her throat, "Thousands upon thousands of mammals suffer in this kingdom… kept in chains by ignorance, mocked by words written across their homes… Should they recognize that they are downtrodden, their eyes are gouged out in some corrupted 'justice'… If they try to climb up, their paws are cleaved off at some falsehood of 'mercy'…" Lovey recounted and then touched her own neck, "Those clever enough to educate others are killed. But I… I am loved," she said, "Surely… the Forestdwell's Silver Belle might be joined in speaking out against this travesty where others had not? Could not a single Tenet be turned for the better?"
"If only that were possible," the Kingsfox seethed, claws curling around the cage, "I would tear this door open here and now, Lovey, yet I cannot free you…"
"Why not?" she asked, touching his finger again, "Is not Wishes the king? Is not his rule made law?" Lovey then trembled to the fox's bowed head, discovering that her faintest grip was stronger than his. "Is it not…?"
Those scared, brown eyes lifted though he tried to smile. "His power is not his own… I am afraid that freeing his mind only made him aware of his own chains…" the old tod confessed, "King Wapitius of Forestdwell, whose hoof directs armies; whose antlers reach higher than any tower or tree in the land; whose voice is heeded by all… is no more than a frightened fawn because of what he learned from me. We foxes are a frightful influence," he darkly chuckled.
"But who? Who holds his chains?"
The old tod thought a moment. "Dare I wax so poetic as to say 'The Stars Above'…?"
"I… I don't understand…"
"The law you broke is not Forestdwell's, it is from the House of Blessings and beyond recorded history," he tried to explain and when it only furthered her confusion, kept on, "Lovey… not his mates nor his children nor any member of his court know that I am literate… or that he was my teacher," he further confessed, "Wishes did not mean for it to happen but I was clever, insightful… 'nigh prescient', by his reckoning. I learned because of him."
"He would hang with me?" Lovey doubtfully concluded.
"I kept eyes, nose, and ears to news and events, aided the Blessed Court with world affairs in ways that they could never understand… if They knew…" the old tod dreaded, "It's happened before… mammals of noble history and lineage, annihilated all the way to their ancestors and generations to come, for less than what he or you has done; friends and family… heartstrings cut to destroy their spirit. Wishes comes from an ancient line of Good Kings and Grand Stags, reaching almost as far back as King Richard… he could be cut down and replaced without a second thought but They would only grow stronger," the fox explained, "Please, tell me, Lovey… what do you hope to accomplish by doing this?"
She was quiet a long minute. "I cannot ask Wishes to rend the kingdom asunder on my account," Lovey quietly considered, "nor can I abandon all those small predators who live in the shadows, shackled in illiteracy… I should have protested when that lion was brought to the Blessed Court but I was scared… I'm not scared anymore." Lovey breathed deep. "The Tenets say that a small predator is absolved of their heretical practices if they reveal who taught them to read and write… you - a fox - would never betray those whom you love and trust above all else…"
Mr. Kingsfox frowned, gawking as his jaw tried fruitlessly to answer.
"So, those who came before paid with their eyes and paws and lives before surrendering a single name… all throughout history," Lovey said and then beseeched him again, "Please, tell me while there is still a chance… why was I brought to the Blessed Court that fateful night, if not to go down this very road?"
He shook his head. "You were supposed to save us, Lovey, all of us… but not like this…" he sobbed, "It just came into my head one day, that if you - who had earned a fox's trust to sing their secret cant - saw that nightmare… then you could do something clever; figured something that Wishes and I failed to see, do what we could not beneath the vigilant eyes of the kingdom," he bashfully admitted, "I agonized over that thought for months; we tried to avoid it until it was the only option we could think of… because it was the first time in my adult life that I felt that same kithood faith for a better tomorrow. I think… I see it now," he then said, trying to hold her paws through the cage, "You are the bravest of us all."
The sun faded as Lovey held his paw as best she could, feeling it slip away into the night until the jailer came to light the lantern and reveal that she was alone. Time had passed and the kingdom outside grew agitated, from all that she could discern… her keen hearing caught news from the guards and her honeyed words pried gossip from their lips. Riots broke out, from the palace to the Iron Bridge, and were quelled as predators large and small, and friends thereof were arrested for conspiracy of heresy. It happened with alarming frequency that a new shifty was brought in to substantiate their claim that Lovey had taught them to read and write… and though she'd never seen them before in her life, she confirmed it and slyly befriended each that was brought before her; indeed, her sins in the eyes of the Blessed Court mounted higher but still, no one else accepted the blame.
"Only I."
"Lovey?" The voice was soft and sweet, strumming her heartstrings as though it were a harp.
"Lovey!" The voice was strong and coy, filling her sails with a tailwind.
She sprung awake in the gray morn and rushed to the bars, tears cascading around her smile as she grasped a finger of each fox on the other side. "Piberius! Trudy!" Lovey delighted, "Forgive me my drab appearance but how uncouth to drop in uninvited!"
Piberius and Trudy held back their own tears as their fingers rubbed her paws, even touching the very pads of their noses to her. "'One must make do with what one has, no matter the circumstances'," Piberius teased.
"Is that not what it means to be a Hopps and a lady?" Trudy tacked on.
"I shan't have my words thrown back at me by a scallywag, much less two of them," Lovey (playfully) rebuked and shared in the chuckle, "Oh, Stars Above, I have missed you both… I surely missed the ceremony, much to my utter dismay… It was always a fancy of mine to see a Chronicler wedding, I hear they are so festive."
"Oh, Lovey…" Trudy tsk'd, "All this time in the company of foxes and you still think everything requires some ceremony or other."
Piberius dramatically (but kindly) sighed at her momentary confusion. "It's quite similar to the Chronicler faith - in fact, that's surely where we go it from - that if we exchange our vows in the presence of one whom we both trust above all else, then we are mated for life," he said and continued as Lovey's eyes grew brighter, "It was the night you followed Trudy down those steps… granted, we did not know you were eavesdropping," he assured her blanching flinch.
"We smelled you there afterward," Trudy confirmed and grasped her mate's paw, "but what we said to each other that night… was all true. And you witnessed it."
"So… I married you…?" Lovey realized, quite beside herself as he looked between the tod and vixen, "Does that make you… Mr. and Mrs. Savage?"
Mr. Savage nodded as he pulled something from his coat pocket. "Much to your further delight, we would like to make it official in the eyes of the Blessed Court," he mused with such a grin, "Even if it is only written on one of your music sheets."
The rabbit gasped and covered her mouth as he unfolded the familiar paper with a familiar script… but unfamiliar content. It was a marriage certificate for "Capt. Piberius Savage" and "Trudence Hopps", already signed by Diocles Hopps and notarized. "Daddy, he…?" Lovey asked, gawking in starstruck wonder at the parchment.
"It was truly a whirlwind, Lovey, Diocles adopted me as a daughter and then handed me over in matrimony on the same day… almost the same hour! He insisted on it," Trudy revealed, "said that 'Forestdwell and rabbits everywhere had a long road ahead of them and that it might as well be a Hopps to take the first step'. But…" Trudy also mused, her grin far more reserved as her mate pulled out a quill, "seeing as how this is a Chronicler mateship, we will need the signature of our trusted witness."
So overcome with joy was Lovey that it hardly crossed her mind when Trudy pulled a key from her pocket and unlocked the cage, simply accepting the quill and quickly reading over the certificate (as is prudent when signing one's name). Tears filled her eyes once more (and a handkerchief provided by her dear vixen) as she looked up to the solemn tod in reverence, "It would make a terrible song, Pibbers, but this is one of the most beautiful bits of legal writing I have ever read." Her name graced the bottom next to her father's and beneath her foxes', feeling serene as she knelt on the floor beside the certificate. Lovey then realized she was on the floor beside her cage and inquired either fox with astonishment.
Trudy giggled and held up a jailer's key. "A lame kit could have swiped this; the guards might as well be wearing pots over their heads," she coolly boasted, "You unlocked my chains so I thought to return the favor."
Piberius blew on the ink and folded up the documentation for him and his mate, tucking it away with the quill. "Now then, we've all got our wits about us so let us escape while the window is still open-"
"No."
Sly eyes stopped and stared, exchanging brief bewilderment of the rabbit's denial.
"But Lovey… you're free," Trudy begged, "we knew we could not convince you so we tricked out of that cage, to escape with us."
"There is a ship ready to sail with the morning tide," Piberius continued, though his confidence waned as Lovey implored him, "A few of us are ready to flee to safe harbors, including Sasha, the Turntides… a new life awaits us across the sea, in a village north of Liondon. A cousin of mine can… give us… sanctuary…"
"I cannot," the rabbit weakly protested, "thank you both for risking so much to save me but… I cannot run from this… if I do, then all those small predators who put their faith in me will be abandoned. All that I have done would be for naught if I do not face my punishment. I applaud your cleverness," she added, holding either paw to comfort their stricken faces, "and wish you both a safe journey to your new lives… my sole regret is that I cannot yet join you."
Piberius looked to Trudy and she to him before he offered, "Then we will stay in Forestdwell," and then scoffed when she denied it, "And why not? I have survived worse and might very well be paramount in some manner of heroism."
"As though I would simply leave you to hang!" Trudy agreed, placing both paws around Lovey's.
Those silver paws were then touched with the pearlescent tears of the rabbit, her face upon them. "Truly, I could not ask for better friends… but to know that you are both safe and beyond Their clutches would be my dearest wish fulfilled. I can face my punishment knowing that you cannot be used against me," Lovey explained as best she could, "Please, forgive this selfish plea… go, have faith as I do, that this will end for the best."
Trudy choked and recovered. "You ask a harsh thing of us, Lovey," she said but embraced the Silver Belle with all her might and Piberius was soon to join her, "but we understand. There will not be a heart alive in this world that does not know about all that you gave for us."
"I wish it does not come to that," Lovey truly believed, "but I am ready if it does." They embraced a moment longer… until the rabbit spoke up again. "Trudy…?"
Either fox chuckled as Trudy corrected her posture and pulled back her coat, revealing the kit-and-kaboodle that the rabbit's paws had found. "A surprise for when you got on the ship, but now will have to do." The unintelligible blathering which followed - uncharacteristic of Lovey - proved remarkable not only in its enunciation but just how sufficiently her ladylike composure surrendered to utter girlishness.
"We figure he'll have Gus and Ellie's kit to grow up with, at the very least," Piberius reported as the rabbit loved upon the rounded belly of the expectant mother, "Should be leaps and bounds for future fox-wolverine relationships."
"'He'?" Lovey adored, "A son for certain? Have you decided on a name?" she then probed when it was confirmed, as determined by Trudy's intuition.
"I think 'John' or 'Robin' would be excellent choices, classic names for any charming tod," Piberius recounted, resting a paw upon his mate's stomach.
Trudy hummed and scratched under her mate's chin. "It is my understanding that the firstborn is named after the father, in some manner or other," she teased.
Piberius reviled (despite the attention to his jaw causing his leg to kick), "A nonsense tradition, truth-be-told. Who would ever name their kit 'Piberius'? Awful name, really," he ranted, though his audience had already heard it before and it amused them no less, "I only got it because my two older brothers got the better choices of the family while I was stuck with some roustabout uncle on my mother's side."
"Well, I love the name but we'll see what fate has in store for us," the vixen decided and as the frivolity died down, she addressed their trusted witness with barely restrained sobs, "We truly cannot convince you otherwise, Lovey?"
She shook her head, likewise only just maintaining her countenance. "You know the law as well as I: because I stepped forward to take the punishment for another, any escape on my part would only return it ten-fold for whom it was originally intended. True, I might be the first rabbit, the first non-predator in all of recorded history to invoke it… but invoke it I did," Lovey extrapolated, "So now… I place my faith in the hearts and minds of the very kingdom of Forestdwell and all her denizens, that they might see the error of an unjust law before I am set to hang for my 'crimes'."
Indecision was never a failing of the Silver Belle's and both her foxes knew it… Their tears could no longer be held as they embraced one last time… and the most terrible of all… Piberius was forced to lock up the first rabbit he ever let into his heart… and without a doubt, his dearest friend.
Perhaps it was an omen of amazing fortune, that kit in Trudy's belly. Perhaps it meant that Lovey's path would turn out for the better… that she might get to see that young kit and help raise him, whoever he turned out to be. Though she was alone again as the day began anew, Lovey felt a sliver of hope shine with the waking sun… Perhaps there need be no more lives taken by an unjust law, from the palace to the Iron Bridge… Perhaps she would be the last to ever stand trial for it… Such a prospect heartened Lovey, that she might close that wretched door and lock it for all time. She need only be the final mammal to face whatever punishment was decided for her.
"Only I."
No voice came in the dead of her sleep… only the soft clink of a stirring spoon.
Lovey slowly rose to the rich smell of brewing coffee, cream, sugar, and frosted cakes. She started, wondering if she might have dozed off in the middle of a visit at the Hopps Estate but discovered that… no, she was still in sackcloth, still in her cage… and that no one informed her that she hosted a guest. Any reflexive plea for forgiveness was immediately stifled by the presence of a beige rabbit, whose gray coat was hanging on a nearby hatrack.
He (she?) sat quite comfortably in their cushioned, snakeskin leather chair with an extended back designed specifically for the long ears of a rabbit to rest upon. Another rabbit had refilled her (his?) cup with hot percolation and casually walked through the open door of her cage as… They poured some cream, provided by a tray on a nearby end-table (which was of a cute, modern design). There was a crew of rabbits just outside (including a stenographer), along with some wildebeests who were all doing some manner of business… there was even a small band softly playing some common, delightful piece that Lovey was quite sure she recognized (and could name, if bothered to).
"Good morning, Laverne," They plainly said, affixing a bookmark before closing their reading material to express the utmost courtesy, "Might I interest you in some coffee? Tea? These cakes are delicious, do try one." Their smile was stale and etiquette forced, as though capable of presenting nothing else than a façade, eroding them until all that remained was the husk everyone else saw.
"Thank you," Lovey responded, sitting as straight and tall as any lady of the King's court, "but I would rather have your name; you have me at a disadvantage, you see."
They considered it for but a fleeting moment. "No," was the simple answer as They continued munching on a cake, "my name is irrelevant. All that matters is that you understand what you've done and that you are in the wrong."
Unkempt brows arched over purple eyes as the attached head canted in rapt incredulity.
"Which is a shame, really," They continued matter-of-factly, "a rabbit from a merchant household rising to such prestige as to have turned the king's head with her song… you'd have been a powerful asset."
"My song has reached many ears, hasn't it," she idly mused.
"It is the sole reason you still breathe. Now," They said, "don't misunderstand this meeting, Laverne, this is not a 'last chance' but an ultimatum-"
Silver fur bristled as Lovey's leg flexed to prevent it from thumping. "'Comply or else'? I do not doubt your power and influence, whoever you are or represent," she reviled, the music outside her cage undeterred, "but we Hoppses are not so easily intimidated. Surely, you had some paw to play when the kingdom took everything of ours? Everything we scratched together after Captain Redbeard's curse?" The Steel Horn huffed quite haughtily. "The Estate, our ancestral home, stolen out from under us in some vain attempt to dissuade me… We are only a few dozen who remain, crowded into a hovel on The Burrow's border by the pity of those still accepting of us, yet still, my family and I defy you."
They sipped. "Accidents happen all the time to the Unfortunate, warren-collapse chief amongst them," They coldly reported and then set their coffee down, "but besides the point. You are ignorant as to what is really happening in the kingdom. Shifties tear out their own eyes for you and even lop off their own paws; some bleed out in the streets or catch an infection in this pitiful attempt at rebellion. All that remains is to clean up the mess." They shrugged. "Honestly, we could not have asked for a more bolstering demonstration than this. To top it all off, your intimate circle of rabble-rousers has already fled to some backwater hamlet; if need be, extermination is easily accomplished with our only quandary as to whether it is quiet or not. No," They said and repositioned how they sat, "what we want from you is to elaborate on how you affected Bag-o'-Bones that night on the Willowbranch."
Lovey was genuinely stunned such that she couldn't hide it from her interrogator. "This is about Hector?" she found herself asking aloud.
Their eyebrows also arched incredulously before sighing, paws folded on their knee with a smack of their lips. "Captain Redbeard is our mad dog and has been straining his leash ever since. We cannot get a clear answer as to why he ravages the world in broad daylight and quite frankly, his tantrum wears on our resources and patience; were he not such a tremendous investment, he and his abominations would be at the bottom of the ocean long ago. But…" They sighed again, "as it is, you are the only other mammal in the entire world who can reliably detail the events of that night, so… here we are."
Silver and beige studied each other for a solid minute.
"You said this was an 'ultimatum'," Lovey finally said, "so what shall I get out of this, were I to truthfully answer?"
They chuckled… a hollow attempt at laughter. "Not your life, if that was your concern. No," They said, "you shall hang and be mourned the minimal length of time for a rabbit of your station and former prestige; not remembered as the 'Silver Belle' or the 'Steel Horn' but only as…" They snapped their fingers to point at the stenographer, "'Loony Laverne', there we are; make note of that one, it's rather good. Oh, maybe there is something we can do with her association… consorting with foxes, yes, that's the ticket."
"I am still quite alive," Lovey interjected.
"No," They dismissed in reclining languish, "you are dead. Your body shan't nourish the soil but be cremated, the ashes scattered to the winds amongst your precious, departed shifties. The name of 'Hopps' is still an old one, though, can't have that go to waste," They considered, "Some other rabbit families can marry into it, build it up again; fairly simple stuff, really." They grinned. "So you see, Loony Laverne, you are inconsequential… but after you recount what happened on the Willowbranch, truthfully, you might possibly be remembered as the 'Silver Belle' who… tragically fell to the sly influence of foxes, even though she gave her very life and heart to share a bit of her Fortune with them. You can even be laid to rest in the gardens of Primrose Court, alongside your ancestors, while the Hopps Estate flourishes anew. Let us also promise not to regrow your family as slave-traders for the nobility, should you comply."
Dainty paws wrung the hem of her sackcloth… and then smoothed it out. "I am sorry but I simply cannot abide this any further," Lovey then said with only a momentary glance to her 'guest' before pivoting to address the band, "Excuse me? Excuse me, yes, please forgive my interruption," she then continued when the playing paused, some looking to Them for direction, "but… ohh… 'Second Violin', would you be so kind as to tighten your D-string?" Lovey requested, "I fear it is a bit flat in an otherwise beautiful performance."
The second violin looked genuinely concerned and tuned their instrument, testing it with a soft pluck.
"A little more," Lovey guided, "like this." She sang a single note and the violinist adjusted to match the sound. "Perfect," Lovey commended and so the violinist beamed (as adjacent bunnies nodded their agreement), "Let's pick it up from the sixth bar if it's not too much of a bother? I do love that part. Now, everybunny, with 'First Violin'; 'Cello', in c-minor, please," she instructed and so they flipped a page back, awaiting the thump of her foot to start them off.
They quietly fumed. "I was warned about you."
Ever the clever rabbit, Lovey returned her attention to the exchange. "Rest assured, I am quite harmless. And I do apologize for ignoring you but music so rarely graces this drab place that a slight correction was imperative to its appreciation," she offered, "As to your ultimatum… why are you doing this when you, quite clearly, have the means to work towards a better world? You, whoever it is you work for… why do you wrench chains and heartstrings in so ironclad a fist?"
They scoffed and sipped. "Because it is for a better world and always will be, no matter how many times self-righteous types like you ruin everything with your misguided heroism," and then set their cup in its saucer, "We are but humble administrators ensuring that laws are kept, quotas met, and bureaucracies maintained; that history reflects what is correct, for future precedence."
"Just what is Hector to you, to accomplish such lofty intentions?"
"Captain Redbeard is… a boogierabbit, to strengthen the fear of the dark… a common enemy, if you will," They mused, "Like us, he is the 'necessary evil', doing what good mammals cannot and should not."
"But… all those lives he takes… ruins to sate his bloodlust…?"
"Necessary sacrifices for the greater good," They assured with a patronizing flick of the wrist, "It's a delicate balance but as a whole, everyone is kept either happy, purposeful, or… both, in some cases."
"'Happy'?" Lovey argued, "Mammals are kept in subjugation! Slaughtered in untold numbers!"
"Only what is necessary," They sighed, "Perhaps it is better that you weren't conscripted, the influence is on you like a stink."
Her heart fluttered and nerves steeled. "The sly influence, you mean?" she aloud wondered.
Languid brows arched again but over bored, rolling eyes. "Shifties are such a nuisance, we've tried for centuries to pin them down - sparing successes, mind you - but they always prove… unpredictable; foxes especially and especially to rabbits," They reviled and shuddered, "We almost eradicated the worst of them, too… but, as you know, it's nigh impossible to kill a fox unless they give their life. Redbeard had it down to an art so we simply cannot lose him quite yet."
"Of course," Lovey coyly answered and relaxed the slightest bit where she sat, "and since it does appear that we are conversing, perhaps it is proper to use one another's names… Wouldn't you agree, Ms. Midgett?" Coffee sprayed from mouth to cup as the beige rabbit gawked angrily over its rim, the band outside abruptly stopping as she grabbed a napkin to wipe her face. "It was no great leap of logic, ma'am, my hearing is exemplary and I can discern a female voice from male, no matter how well you hide it."
Ms. Midgett stammered. "Y-You… would… how…"
A piece of invisible lint was picked from Lovey's sackcloth. "I am well versed in rabbit heraldry, spanning centuries, and there is one family who claimed such a rationalizing moniker as 'necessary evil'; who bred rabbits for slavery and the Black Sheep Market during the darkest times in history… the cursed lineage of the Midgetts. More to the point," she continued, "that night at the Gaudere is etched into my memory, replaying every night until I can fall asleep… so I see that rabbit who presented the lion and know his face… while you were the doe who poured my beverage. Why you deemed it necessary to flaunt that authoritative gray coat in some attempt to fool me is the only confusing part of all this.
"So, that night on the Willowbranch," Lovey recounted and waited for the stenographer to recover, "I can say with certainty that Hector fell deeply in love with me… and it tortures him… tortures us both. He wrote me letters… beautiful prose of a soul who knows only darkness and hate… who seeks absolution, rest… but you keep him as a monster, to control others with fear." The Steel horn scoffed and sat so tall that she towered. "I had never given it credit before but those foxes you despise so much tease me as an 'alpha-rabbit'; utterly absurd, of course," she half-mused, "but I cannot help but wonder if I am Hector's alpha." She then stood over the cowering beige rabbit, filthy and garbed in sackcloth but regal. "…Am I your alpha?"
The teacup rattled in her paws as she stared up at Lovey… longingly… unable to tear her eyes away…
"What is your name?" Lovey kindly asked, leaning forward with a presented paw and beaming such an angelic smile that it reflected off her beige fur. Their fingers nearly touched and her lips nearly spoke… but then the world clattered and quaked in a terrible racket, sending both rabbits off their feet.
One of the wildebeests had struck the cage and was looming over them both, contemptuously awaiting their reactions.
Ms. Midget looked up, remembering how she leaned forward to grasp the offered paw and then was thrown into Lovey, holding each other on the cage's floor. They shrieked, vaulting back as though the silver rabbit had caught fire, hopping after stepping on a piece of the broken cup which shattered on the floor. Disheveled fur was smoothed and the gray coat wrenched off the hatrack, cold daggers glared before They hissed, "I will watch you choke and swing."
Lovey lifted herself as best she could, re-establishing line-of-sight. "Then you will lose Hector. I am the only thing in this whole world that keeps Forestdwell safe from his rampage… and he will throw himself upon this kingdom's spears… Too many lives will be lost to his terror as the navies of the world battle his armada… Please," she then begged, grabbing the gray coat before it was whisked away, "if you can rescind the law for which I hang, pardon all who are guilty of it… then maybe I can speak with Hector, quell his bloodlust?"
Their features hardened as the coat was yanked free to exit the cage, the chair, broken cup, and all else gathered up in departure. "You are a very sly bunny, Laverne Hopps. It would be easy to allow even one of King Wapitius's pardons for your life to see the light of day… the only thing easier is preventing them," They snarled, affixing their coat, "Bag-o'-Bones will fall in line once you are gone and any shifty or mammal who dares deviate from our established order will be annihilated. No Tenets from 'past kings' in the Stars Above; no 'quick and clever' Aslan whispering to his Chroniclers… only us, who know how things should be. Fortuna Regenta."
"Fortuna Regenta," those outside repeated.
And then They were gone.
The jailcell was empty… and it seemed that the whole world was, too, as the day continued on with or without her regard. A final chance had come - one she had not even known was possible - but despite her cleverness, it was for naught. So… all that remained was a dying wish known only to whatever Star Above heard her wringing heart…
"For years, they heard my voice; today, let them listen."
Tears for a Sunset
All of Forestdwell gathered at the Iron Bridge, where the worst heretics hanged for their crimes. Scaffolding erected on the level above the foot traffic… where her gallows were visible in the fiery light of a sinking sun. Large mammals stood on stone walks and wood planks; smaller mammals stood atop the canopy frames and outcroppings. A three-way war of emotions waged amongst the populace between indignation, shame, and despair… many who supported her had forgotten her… many who suffered from what happened during the riots hated her…
It seemed that after her closest supporters fled the kingdom, the only ones who remained that still loved her were less than two dozen Hoppses. They stayed on the outskirts of the spectacle to see their cherished Lovey hang for an unjust crime… Otto snuck closer… Though unable to reach her, he wanted to see her one last time… even if she would be covered in filth and regret… he knew she was a good bunny. He knew, even if gossip and slander were thick on the lips of all who gathered to see her hang and justice exacted…
His and many other ears perked at the approach of an armored carriage, one transporting the most dangerous mammals in society… surely, Lovey would be inside. It came to a creaking stop for a guard to open its door… and out she stepped…
And oh… how she shone…
The kingdom, it seemed, had not seized all of her property… the gown which was ordered those years ago for the Gaudere remained "in transit" and so never in any one mammal's possession, somehow snuck onto her between the prison and gallows… but there it was, the grandest, most beautiful dress for a bunny to wear, one meant to hold an audience with the king himself… A lily-white dress with lavender accents and silver filigree lace that bounced and swayed with each step, cut low upon her chest to show her treasured carcanet - Tears for a Sunset - resting below her neck… No sackcloth-heretic was she… but the Silver Belle that everyone knew… that everyone loved…
Four guards marched astride her as those of Forestdwell were struck dumb and mute, her tiny form escorted, it seemed, to the wooden steps… and when the dress proved a great hassle (as it was meant to stand upon the stage), a guard even helped her up on the platform… The operatic gown billowed its subtlest in the bare breeze, and as she took her place beneath the noose - her paws uncuffed and folded before her, as a lady should - Lovey resembled a deity… with her silver-powdered makeup and gentle emphasis to every feminine feature on her face, the tiara around her head and curved decoration up her ears… It was as though she were crowned with pearlescent antlers and framed in magnificent wings…
For a brief moment… Lovey stood above the awed, wonderstruck crowd as it dawned on them just who, exactly, they sent to the gallows… whose neck that the executioner cinched a rope around… and yet… seemed confused as to why it happened…
They began to weep… and wail… and protest in despair for their cherished Silver Belle… and she cried with them, try though she might to keep her chin aloft as tears trickled down each cheek to splash upon her glistening opals… Even the executioner choked beneath his black hood, paws falling from the lever… And the crowd gasped as Lovey hurried to him and though the tips of her ears barely reached his shoulder, she attempted to prop his arm back into position.
"We are where we need to be when we need to be," Lovey said, her soft voice echoing across the sound… and the executioner nodded, clawed fingers gripping the lever as best he could. He seemed to ask something which she then considered, returning to the trapdoor… and gazed across the western sea, "I thought myself ready for such a thing as this but… if I may… I would like to watch one last sunset…"
Some… many collapsed to their knees and wondered, agonized as to why she was to hang… The orange-red light faded but before it could, Otto cupped his mouth and tried to sing, his voice hoarse from crying and drowned out by every other sobbing mammal around him… And then it happened, as such things often do, in an instant: another voice echoed across the sound, loud and clear and majestic… His ears swiveled to find its source…
He recognized the voice! And such a magnificent, powerful voice that Otto wished he could see where he stood… it was Mr. Pibbers, singing "If You Would Come With Me" as though the whole kingdom were his audience… there were other voices, all joining him in their own way, in their own key, in their own harmony… all singing for Lovey…
Her eyes opened and blazed with a heartfelt glory, grasping her heart and gushing with a radiant joy as she marveled, "Can't you hear them? It's beautiful." Soon, the crowd came to hear it as well… and soon, many joined… even some of the guards sang though they might not understand why… The light traveled down her rope as she settled back on her heels, paws folded at her waist as she beamed such a smile that it outshone the sun. Lovey breathed, listened, and then said, "I am ready."
The song stopped.
The rope, taut.
The church bells mourned.
Thousands… upon thousands of glistening eyes watched from the inky shadows, watched the prey who had gathered on the Iron Bridge… and then they were gone.
The lanterns were lit.
The crowd lingered.
The night grew cold.
Otto returned to his family. His family returned to their hovel. The kingdom continued on… as the song echoed in every heart from the palace to the Iron Bridge.
Hopping ahead…
Judy almost couldn't read the diary's final entry… needing Bo to finish it as she fought every instinct to throw herself upon her dear grandfather and hug him… Oh, Pop-Pop, she adored, simply unable to speak, it must have been so terrible for you but you recovered her diary… Maybe it was smuggled out when she changed into her gown… Truly, you are amongst the bravest bunnies to ever live, Pop-Pop… Lovey would be proud!
"He even a saved newspaper clipping," Bo remarked, taking great care to unfold the pressed piece of media from the last century to confirm that it, indeed, said:
LAVERNE HOPPS TO HANG FOR HERESY
"He was there," Judy managed to say, gazing at the back of Pop-Pop's aged head as he nodded off in his seat, "and Piberius returned! Did anyone else, I wonder…? And what happened afterward? Ohh, if only we could know!" Her arms were soaked from drying her eyes so much and her sinuses were an absolute mess, but still, Judy's heart was practically a hot-air balloon with how big, warm, and lofty it felt. So, she busied herself with gathering up the scraped-clean chili and ice cream bowls while Bo - ever-so-carefully - secured the delicate proof of history erased.
"I know a publication history nerd from my online message board who can authenticate this clipping," Bo said, "it'd have a very specific parchment composition, among a dozen different ways to pinpoint who printed it when and where. With any luck, they won't be in league with that Them!" he joked.
Laughter was shared between the two of them… but only the two of them.
Graham sat aghast, paws trembling as he gripped the air. "Is that it?" he quietly demanded, vaulting and nearly wrenching the White Book open to skim its final pages, urgency gaining in his voice, "That can't be everything, there should be more…"
"Whoa, cool it!" Bo pleaded, practically diving as the diary flung from his cousin's clawing clutches to allow for his skull to, instead, be wrung, "Aren't you OCD about this sort of thing? Throwing around priceless artifacts like they're a dime-a-dozen…" the history buff grumbled.
"Useless, useless," he ranted under his breath.
The stacked dishes were guided to one paw while the other braced her hip, the first in a chain of disapproving gesticulations. "What's gotten into you, Graham? I get that you've got questions - I've got buckets of them - but the only one who can answer them is Pop-Pop, and as I said, it's a miracle that we got as much out of him as we did." And why are you being so guarded around me? I thought we could be wholly open with each other, she huffed.
Coffee-spotted ears sprung and pointed at one Hopps and then the other, he then looking directly at Judy. "Yes, yes, a thousand apologies…" he said, correcting himself, "So you… recovered his memory?" he considered, a dark excitement filling his features, "Perhaps you can do it again? Or tell me how you did it."
"That was a fluke," Judy argued with a roll of her eyes, "Getting more could take… weeks of professional therapy." Though I can definitely see now why he confused me for Trudy, it almost felt like Lovey was talking about me in some of those entries. I wonder if that had something to do with my being named 'Judy', aside from being named after Aunt Judith… or was it Uncle Jude…?
"Yeah," Bo agreed, "we don't even know who you would sound like, Graham, if anybunny at all."
Graham's ear pointed at his larger cousin. "'Sound like', you say?" he quietly inquired over his shoulder, sauntering past the yawning centenarian on his way to the door, arms folded as he idly scanning a bookshelf near there, "From Otto's past, you mean."
"Apparently, he confused Judy's voice for Trudy's because he didn't have his glasses," the chocolate bunny continued, directing attention with the book before catching himself and tucking it under an arm, "thus, the name mix-up."
"Let's call it a day, I'm bushed," she suggested and rolled her shoulders in a shrug before using both paws to hold the bowls, And, I think we've run out of viable excuses to stay holed up in here. We'll be up all night explaining this to the rest of the family.
"No," the butterscotch rabbit then said and with a frightful heave as he wrenched the bookshelf from where it stood to crashin front of the door, "Noone leaves until I get answers!"
Author's Notes:
"Vernal Husband" references the Stag or Elk from the finale piece of "Fantasia 2000", originally hinted at earlier in Loyal (e.g., "His spanning antlers"). He is a deity in this Zootopia world revered by antlered ungulates and this is his most common name; the name itself is derived from the Stag's animator, Ron Husband, and the Stag's association with the "Spring Sprit", i.e., "Vernal Sprite".
"I thank you, Miss Lovey" is the same note that Big Gid gave to Lovey in Brave, chapter 1.
["Oh, simply marvelous!" Lovey gushed and clapped her dainty paws.] While not intentional, this is reminiscent of how the Sultan reacted to Prince Ali's procession in the movie "Aladdin" and the degree of sincere exultation to how Lovey felt is comparable.
It is worth noting that the noose at the end of the guard's rod is made of snakeskin leather.
["…a village north of Liondon…"] is a subtle nod to Nottingham and Sherwood Forest from the movie, "Robin Hood".
["…friends and family… heartstrings cut to destroy their spirit…"] This should sound familiar to what Chester Vandersnatch explained to Jackie back in Loyal, chapter 13.
[It was as though she were crowned with pearlescent antlers and framed in magnificent wings…] This describes a creature from Germanic mythos called the "wolpertinger", a bunny with antlers and wings, that for the sake of this story is a deific figure in rabbit culture. The reason for this is that birds are considered divine, by-&-large, and antlers analogous to crowns, ergo a winged and antlered rabbit would be a mythic figure to a historically subjugated species.
Thanks for reading and reviewing!