Notice: Another chapter without a song! Don't fret, music lovers! There will be more music later! Presenting…
Chapter V: Welcome to the Tea Party
Tarrant was getting worried. His eyes were as purple as plums with it.
It wasn't Alice he was worried about, for once. Or the White Queen. Or his next hat design. Or even Time. Strangely enough, it was Mallymkun he was worried about.
He knew he shouldn't have been worried; he knew the dormouse very well. She was very capable of taking care of herself in a scuffle, duel, or other such situation.
It was her emotions she couldn't control. In that way, he and she were very much alike. The real difference between them – besides, obviously, size and species – was that Mally was just a tad more capable of honing her emotions, keeping them on track, whereas the Hatter could never slam the brakes fast enough to prevent a crash. This was why they got along so well; when Mallymkun cried, so did the Mad Hatter. And when Tarrant was overexcited or angry, it was usually the dormouse who brought him back down to earth.
The March Hare was worried, too. And he didn't need mood-ring eyes to show it or a changing voice. Thackery had always been more physical than Tarrant or Mally in his expressions. Right now, the Hare was sipping from a teacup, eyes constantly darting in the direction Mallymkun had gone. He jumped and jabbered wildly in Outlandish at every noise, and softly whimpered. (This was about every 12 seconds.)
Neither had spoken at all since the dormouse had left the table. She didn't look at either of them, and her voice was a growl as she said, "I need some practice." She seemed most upset, but the Mad Hatter couldn't fathom why…
His eyes darkened.
Yes. Actually, yes, he could fathom why.
It was that slurvish guddlers scut of a slurking shukm juggling cat. It had to be.
Tarrant had very good reason to be upset with Chessur. He and the cat had been friends almost as long as the Hare and the Hatter. But after the Cheshire Cat fled the horror of the Horunvendush Day, he felt his temper rise each time he glimpsed the feline's ever-lasting grin.
Now the mere thought of Chess made Tarrant angry. He couldn't BELIEVE the feline's deception! Did his treachery know no bounds? He'd known about the promise he'd made to the dormouse following the destruction of Hightopp's Land. And now he'd tried to kill her. He'd abandoned her, he'd sworn to watch her, and now HE'D NEARLY KILLED HER!
Tarrant's eyes reddened. If he ever saw Chessur again, he'd strangle him. Slowly.
"Hatter!"
"I'm fine," he mumbled, and then realized it had been the March Hare who'd called to him. He looked up and noticed the Hare dancing in his chair, laughing wildly and pointing.
Confusing…
The Hatter looked out in the direction Thackery pointed and smiled. Mally was returning from the Tulgey Woods. He smiled a bit wider at the sight of the gray dormouse in the blue suit and hat that followed her.
A guest…
"Get enough practice, Mally?" he asked as the white dormouse hopped up onto the tea table, her companion following closely.
"Yes. Yes I did, Hatter."
"Yer late!" shrieked Thackery, and tossed a scone at the white rodent, who ducked the flying pastry almost by instinct.
"Sorry, Thackery."
"Yes, yes, and who's your friend?" asked the Hatter, gesturing at the darker dormouse as he took an empty cup and poured some tea.
"Allow me to introduce myself," said the other dormouse – a male – in a voice so soft it cut the air like a knife and butter. "My name is Russehc. A humble dormouse from Tulgey Woods. And you, sir, are Mr. Tarrant Hightopp, the royal milliner?"
Tarrant stared over the rim of his cup as he took a drink.
"I am. How do you know me?"
"I didn't, sir. I only guessed when I saw your hat. That, and Ms. Mallymkun invited me for tea and mentioned you would be attending."
The Mad Hatter looked over at Mallymkun quizzically. She didn't look back. She filled a miniature cup with tea and added some cream.
"He said he knew Sussen."
Tarrant gaped. Sussen? As in Sussen Hightopp? His older sister, who'd specialized in hats for smaller animals and had had a knack for poetry?
"Sussen?" he asked of the male dormouse.
"Yes, I think so. May I sit down?"
"Oh, but of course!" said Tarrant. Russehc sat down on the table, and the March Hare handed him a tiny teacup, taken from a child's play tea set.
"Anyway, Sussen was the name given to me by the lady who gave me this," he said, tapping the brim of his blue derby hat. Tarrant eyed him suspiciously.
"May I see it?" he asked Russehc, who shrugged and swept the derby off of his head with a flair, twirling it between his fingers as he held it out to the last Hightopp.
Tarrant carefully took the hat, hooking it on his ring finger as he inspected the miniature piece of headgear. The stitching…the quality of the cloth…the design…the tone of the blue color…
He smiled, both with fondness and with pride. Sussen's work or not, the hat was most definitely a Hightopp creation. He gave the hat back to Russehc, who smiled a charming grin and flipped the derby gracefully onto his head between his ears.
"It's good to meet another fan of the Hightopp craft besides Mally, Thackery, and of course, the White Queen," said the Mad Hatter with a grin that revealed the large gap between his teeth.
"Mr. Hightopp, you flatter me. I was only a customer of your relative…"
"Sister!"
"Your sister, then. I knew her only as that. A customer. I'm sorry to say I did not have the doubtless pleasure of knowing her personally."
"That is of little consequence or difference to me," said Tarrant, with a shrug. "And please, Russehc, call me Hatter! Or Tarrant. Everyone does. By the way, you've yet to drink your tea!"
The male dormouse nodded and took a drink from his cup. He licked his lips slowly.
"Quite tasty! Who made this tea, if I may ask?"
The Hatter and the other dormouse both pointed at the March Hare, who smiled crookedly and nodded exuberantly with pride. Russehc smiled again.
"You make very nice tea, my good sir," he complimented.
The Hare giggled.
"It's green!" he shrieked, and threw his own cup into the air and catching it with his other paw. Russehc turned to Mallymkun.
"Is he always like this?"
"Most always," replied Mally, without looking at him, and then added in a slightly darker, and definitely more suspicious tone, "Strange how you'd know about me and Tarrant, and not about Thackery?"
For a second, Russehc did not reply or respond in any way. Then he gaped, as if something had just struck him.
"'Thackery?' As in 'Thackery Earwicket?' The March Hare who, upon the Frabjous Day, defeated forty Red Knights using nothing but a soup ladel?"
"Th' saime! And it wus forty-five!" said Thackery, bowing in a comical manner that caused his ears to fall over his eyes.
Russehc bowed back.
"How honored and delighted I am," he said, his voice so small and modest it was barely above a whisper. "To be taking tea with three of Underland's greatest heroes."
Thackery blushed. Tarrant smiled proudly. Mallymkun just shrugged.
Russehc raised an eyebrow in her direction.
"Pardon me, madam, but I couldn't help but notice that you've generally stayed out of all conversation thus far, and you DID invite me here yourself."
Mally shot Russehc a glare and mumbled something vile under her breath, breaking off a bit of a scone next to her.
"Do excuse her," said the Hatter, apologetically. "She's been having…cat troubles…"
For a brief second, the Mad Hatter's eyes were orange, but quickly became green again.
"Oh, I see…I think…actually, and call me crazy if you wish, but I don't really mind cats."
Everyone at the party stared at the smoke-colored dormouse.
The widest eyed was Mallymkun.
"You don't?" she asked, shocked.
"Well, it isn't that I like them…I mean, they're always trying to eat me! But, really, it's more that I understand them. See?"
Mally shook her head, as did the Hare and the Hatter. Russehc cleared his throat and explained.
"Well, you see, they only attack me because they're hungry, and, as a rodent, I am a primary source of food. So, really, I understand that they attack me not because they're cruel or evil or twisted…they're just trying to stay alive. Get it?"
Tarrant shrugged. Thackery mumbled something that sounded like "snoot-floot" under his breath and nodded. Mally looked rather uncomfortable.
"What about their… 'games?'" she asked, hesitantly, nearly vomiting the last word. Russehc seemed to take no notice and rolled his eyes.
"It's in their nature, I believe, madam. Sort of the way a child plays with its food before eating it."
Mally suddenly was standing, her face red as a ripe tomato. The Hare and the Hatter shared a glance.
Oh, dear…
"Are you defending them?"
"No. I'm nothing more to them than something to fill their stomachs. All I'm saying is that I don't blame them for trying."
"But those games! They torture the poor…er, us! They give us hope and shatter it! They let us breathe and then rip out our lungs! They snap our very minds! How can you…?"
"Mally!" hissed the Hatter, eyes pale.
The dormouse jerked to a stop, swallowing thickly.
Well, this is an interesting twist, thought Tarrant, and gazed over at Russehc with an apologetic look.
"I'm sorry, Russehc, but I think it would be a good idea if you left about now. Feel free to come back though anytime."
"I shall," said Russehc, and then turned back to Mallymkun.
For a second, his eyes seemed to change color from dark to bright blue-green, but when she looked again, they were still the usual black, beady eyes of a dormouse.
"I'm sorry if I upset you, madam. I hope to see you again."
And with that, the dark furred dormouse left, scuttling away into the woods.
For a second, Mally just watched him go, but when he disappeared behind a bush, she called out, "Wait, Russehc! Hold up!" and tried to follow. She turned the bush…
Russehc had vanished. Not a trace could be found of the dormouse anywhere.
Mally looked around, cautiously, and then made her way back to the table. The Mad Hatter and the March Hare both looked at her with concern and puzzlement.
"What wus awll that aboot?" asked Thackery, curiously.
Mally didn't reply. She didn't say a word. Not a word.