And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet's wings.
~ The Lake Isle of Innisfree by William Butler Yeats
Tarrant loped up the stairs of the pale castle. He was off to his meeting with Lily, wherever she may be hiding. He wasn't entirely sure where to meet her. Her message had been so vague - something about the gardens by the fountain.
A smile tickled his mouth and caused his emerald eyes to sparkle. Tarrant was almost sure he knew what Lily was up to, and he hoped she didn't get into too much trouble for it with her parents. Sudhir would understand, but Mirana was a bit more squeamish about the whole affair. After her vow of non-violence, it was understandable.
The hatter found himself in the gardens. Instead of going straight to their rendezvous point, Tarrant took the time to enjoy the crickets singing the last notes of their nightly tunes. Dawn had broken through the clouds and the dew was still on the ground. He hummed along with the crickets, unaware of the shadow creeping up behind him.
Not until a twig snapped and a flower gasped, "How indecent!" did Tarrant jerk around, Claymore drawn, and blocked a rapier with a clang. He grinned at the nine-year-old princess who was watching him with grim determination.
"Nice try, Lily," he complimented, "but you should have been a bit quieter to avoid that pesky flower and twig." The pair broke apart from their stalemate and took their positions.
Lily didn't respond to his compliment and instruction but charged him once more. Tarrant blocked her once more and parried her blows away. He was careful with his swings and made sure that the large sword missed her should she ever forget where she stepped. He chided and barked instructions, his brogue coming and going. Tarrant watched as sweat began forming on the young girl's forehead. Her curly, blonde hair was pulled back into a bouncy tail, but it would occasionally whip her face and eyes. Too preoccupied to fix the problem, she would shake her head and gasp for air. The duel should end soon, he knew. Before she exhausted herself too much and before anyone should find them.
With a skilled twist of his wrists, Tarrant sent the rapier flying from Lily's grasp. He twirled and swept her feet out from underneath her with his larger feet. The hatter winced at the 'oof' she exclaimed as her remaining breath escaped her. When his twirl ended, him facing the sprawled-out princess, he held his blade several inches away from her chest. "Admit defeat?" He queried, not even winded.
Lily's lower lip stuck out in her familiar pout, but she eventually shrugged and nodded. Tarrant smiled and sheathed his large blade in the scabbard strapped to his back. He reached out a pale hand and helped the girl to her feet.
"How do you always do that, Tarrant?" The girl asked as she wiped her moist forehead with her arm. They walked along to the fountain that they had originally agreed on and settled by the cool water. Lily accepted the offered handkerchief which she then dipped into the water and patted her face with it.
The hatter chuckled and shrugged. "Well, Lily, I suppose I'm just a bit too much like a cat. Not like Chess, mind you. I don't think I could ever be like Chess. Well, I couldn't be like any old cat either, but it was an expression I suppose. And -"
"Tarrant," Lily giggled and swatted his arm with the cloth, leaving a wet splotch on his suit coat. He mock pouted before leaning down to get a hand-full of water and splashing her pale pink shirt. The princess eyed with a mischievous glint in her eyes, much like the one he was sending her way. The swords were set down cautiously before another battle ensued, only this time it involved splashing each other mercilessly.
Eventually, they were both soaked, but laughing heartily. They lay in the grass and stared up at the sky and it's peculiarly colored clouds. Underland's clouds couldn't possibly counted among the white fluffy things that floated in the air of the land above. No, these clouds were in a constant state of color, like the sun when it rose or set. At noon the clouds were a lovely shade of lavender, while in the morning they were pink, and at night they turned a royal purple. Tarrant especially liked the deep indigo of a cloud full of rain. It reminded him of a ribbon he wanted to attach to his milliner hat when he finally made his greatest creation as a man with his own business - he simply hadn't the time.
"I should practice more," Lily announced. Tarrant glanced at her lazily, taking in the shirt and billowing pants - the garb of her father's soldiers when they practiced. He wondered where she had managed to find one in that particular feminine shade. Most of the soldiers wore varying shades of white or silver, depending on their rank.
"Practice what, Lily girl?" Tarrant questioned.
"Fighting," she answered easily. "I have to be prepared you know. There should be a chess game in the near future, and I plan on beating Bertram!" Lily added heatedly. "Mummy said he would be attending the chess game this year, and I plan on winning!"
Tarrant shifted and rolled to his side to look at the scowling princess. He propped his head on a hand and propped his arm up by his elbow. It was not lost on him that Lily had not ceased her dislike of Bertram. Whenever he visited each year for her birthday, he seemed to torment her mercilessly. To Lily's credit, she remembered the chat she and Tarrant had at the bottom of the old wishing well. She acted as gracious a host as she could, but inevitably, some prank befell the duke and duchess's son, but proof of who the culprit was could never be found. None-the-less, Lily would end up grounded anyway, because her parents were not completely oblivious to the feud between the children.
Now the next big event that the children would be allowed to attend was the chess game held by the White and Black Houses. Tarrant knew that Bertram, a boy of twelve now, would be allowed to participate because he was on the cusp of manhood. The chess game would be his chance to prove his prowess in battle. Lily, on the other hand, was still only nine. She would not be considered old enough to participate until she too was twelve, and that was still debatable because Queen Mirana - now queen after Evander's death two years ago - wished her daughter to take the same vow of nonviolence as Mirana had. The only Mirana would participate in the chess game was because it was, in fact, only a game. A reenactment of a civil war battle fought long ago between the House of White and Black. None-the-less, Mirana would most likely postpone Lily's participation for another three years, which would no doubt bother the little princess who so desperately wanted to prove herself against Bertram - and most likely avoid any teasing on her next birthday.
"Tarrant?" Lily questioned, having rolled over on her side as well to face her friend. "Did you hear what I said?"
"Hmm?" The hatter replied, startled. "Oh! I'm terribly sorry, Lily girl. Was this before or after your plan to win against Bertram?" He questioned sheepishly. Tarrant decided it would be better for Mirana to inform her daughter of the plan for the chess game.
"I asked if you would teach me more," Lily repeated herself, not in the least upset that he had not heard her. She knew he hadn't because his usually emerald eyes turned a hazy color of gray, but wanted to call him away from his deep thoughts.
"Well, I suppose I could do so after tea every day," Tarrant agreed. "That was our old plan when you were little."
Lily blushed and moaned from mortification. "Please don't bring that up!"
Tarrant grinned. "Why ever not? You were absolutely adorable when you strode into your father's sparring lesson with a rapier that was taller if not as tall as you were at age six. All frilly in your dress and your top hat askew on your curly head."
"I'll splash you again!" Lily threatened as she sat up.
"Really? I thought I might - send you for a swim!" Tarrant scooped the girl up in his arms and dangled her over the fountain, enjoying her shrieks of laughter and protestation.
"No! Tarrant," she laughed, "please! I take it back!"
The hatter chuckled and set her back on her feet. "Good. Because you really were adorable, Lily girl." She picked up her rapier in its scabbard and fingered the filigree on the hilt. "I do want to be prepared," she stated quietly. "I want to be able to fight and win."
Tarrant sighed and sat down on the edge of the fountain. "Lily," he began gently, "you don't need to fight or go into battle or anything like that now. You're still young -"
"No!" Lily insisted, turning to look at Tarrant with wide, pained eyes. "I have to fight! I don't want to be weak or just a silly girl like Bertram says I am!"
"You know you're none of those things," Tarrant reminded her. "He likes to say things that aren't true. The truth is, he and other people think they have to fight in battles or wars to prove they're strong and not silly, but," he lifted a finger to emphasize what he said, "it takes truly strong people like your mum to keep peace. Anyone can start a war. Not just anyone can keep peace."
"Seems easy to me," Lily answered. "And chess doesn't seem easy at all. Dad had to explain it several times before I knew all the moves that are allowed."
Tarrant hummed and looked at the fountain. "Well, fighting is like - like water!" He exclaimed as his mind latched onto an idea. "Yes! See!" He pointed at the fountain and the water spouting from the top. "Or better yet," he thought to himself. "Like tea."
"Tea?" Lily questioned skeptically. "Tarrant -"
"Shush," he ordered with a swift wave of his hand. "Yes, tea. Anyone can pour a cup and some tend to overdo it - too much tea will overflow or too fast and it'll splash all over the place staining the linen or scalding people. Now an expert tea pourer," he explained, "knows to pour with a steady hand and the best of the best experts know how to make the tea perfect by adding one single drop." Here, Tarrant plucked an acorn top from a pocket in his coat. He scooped up water in the little 'cup' and began to tip the acorn top until a small drop formed. Lily's gaze followed his slow, steady hands. With a slow dip of his arm, the drop fell and hit the water. "A drop of peace," Tarrant declared, "is difficult to control. It takes slow, steady practice to make it just right. But when it hits the surface, it doesn't make a mess or hurt anything or anyone."
Tarrant blinked several times and frowned. Had that idea worked to explain things? He hoped so, he wasn't very good at this sort of stuff. He looked at Lily to see that she was staring intently at the place the drop had fallen.
"Will you keep peace like Mum, Tarrant?" She asked thoughtfully. "Because you're strong too. Strong like Mummy and Daddy."
"I suppose," Tarrant stated. "I only learn to fight because it's tradition for Hightopp men to know how to use a Claymore."
Lily looked up at him and smiled. "I still want to play chess, but I bet I could make drops of peace a whole lot better than Bertram."
The hatter smiled and handed her the acorn top. "I'm sure you could."
Author's Note: I apologize for not writing more, folks! I've been incredibly busy the past couple of months (or year, I'm not even sure how long I've been away). My senior year in college was a bit difficult - on top of wedding planning. Then said wedding took place this summer, and then there was the honeymoon and moving into our apartment. Then student teaching started... now I'm moving into a house...
I know, excuses, right? Well, the good news is, I've been writing a little more to de-stress on the weekends. I thought I'd submit today since I had some free time. I have this chapter and the next chapter typed up. We're coming a little closer to the end of this story. There will be a sequel! :)
Thank you to all for your patience and understanding.