Is there anything that you guys really want to see happen? I'll take suggestions with an open mind :D Did you know a Hightopp and Mira are actually best friends? But…which one?

Title- A Raven and a Writing Desk

Summary- Mirana is a sweet (but sickly) little girl. Tarrant is the Royal Hatter's son and apprentice. What could they possibly have in common? Well, much more than either of them thought.

Disclaimer- **sigh* I don't own these wonderful characters, the books they're in, or the movies they're in :P why do you keep asking me? It only reminds me that I can never own them…

Chapter 3: Changes

"Falling ill is not something that happens to us, it is a choice we make as a result of things happening to us."—Jonathan Miller

Mirana, 8 years old

When Mirana had first gotten a - 8 years old and one month- she knew her body didn't have a normal response. She had woken up, soaked in a cold sweat, and 2 in the morning. Her body was hot, as well as her head, and she was dizzy. When her mother touched her skin, she said it was ice-cold. Mirana was uncomfortable to an extreme. She wanted to crawl under her blankets for comfort, but she got too hot and had to sit in front of a fan. She ended up in the kitchen in front of the open ice-box. Her mother had come and near dragged her back to her room, telling her they'd see the doctor in the morning.

By the time the doctor had seen Mirana, she had only gotten worse. Her skin now looked waxy like she hadn't eaten for a while. He eyes were sunken as if she hadn't slept, which- in fact- she hadn't. Her skin had actually gotten even colder. Whenever she touched something, she flinched. To her, everything was burning hot. She got a little lesson from Racy about how hot and cold are relevant terms. Mira dressed in her lightest dress even though it was winter, and headed down to the infirmary with her mother.

"I don't know what's wrong with her. She has a body temperature of 90 degrees- that is far too low. She should've frozen to death!" Mirana's eyes grew wide. 90 degrees! Amazing! She had been told that normal temperature was 98.6 degrees…or was it 96.8? What does it matter? she thought to herself, At least I'm still alive.

"Will…will she be okay?" The doctor shrugged his shoulders and went on to his next patient.

Well, Mirana did not get better- but she didn't get worse. She did get used to having the symptoms she had as time wore on. She wore light clothing and kept her hair pulled back in a way that looked just right with her black hair. Her closest friend, Tarra Hightopp, kept her company on days when she was too weak to get out of bed. She spent her days in the kitchen, baking, in order to keep herself from over stressing. Baking had always calmed her down and Tarra said she could take the extra food home to her family.

"You should bring your family here! Yes, yes, that's a wonderful idea! I'd love to meet them and, oooh; we could have a tea party and everything! Come now, Tarra, they can't be that bad."

"You'd be surprised, Mira."

"Then bring only two of them, but please, I'd love to meet them," insisted the young girl. She was only 8 and 2 months, but she acted much older. Her mother called her 8 going on 18. She was very intelligent- she spent her spare time reading in the Great Library. She knew things she wasn't supposed to know and she read things she wasn't supposed to read. Of course, this made her all the more excited to know them!

"Fine- tomorrow afternoon. But I'm not going to promise you that they'll behave…correctly." And with that, Tarra left home. Mira finished baking her sugar cookies, iced them, and set them out to cool. She went through the castle, searching for her baby sister. The little girl was just over 2 years old and was the most adorable thing in the world! When she finally found her, she swooped her up and spun her around.

"Good afternoon Julia! How are you, baby?"

"Imma big girl, Miwa! But I'm guwd." Mirana smiled. She would bend over backwards for her little sister- and her elder.

"How about we pay a little visit to Iracebeth?" The little girl bounced excitedly in her arms, nodding and grinning. They skipped down the hall all the way to the dining hall. Inside, Iracebeth was having lunch with that boy who worked in the stables- Illosovic Stayne. Racy was leaning on her elbow, giggling like an idiot. When the two younger girls opened the girls, Racy glared, and then motioned for them to sit and have lunch.

"Good afternoon. You must be the friends Iracebeth was speaking of." Mira cocked an eyebrow at Racy and smirked.

"Well, of course! We're the best of friends, now aren't we Racy?" The elder girl glared at her again, then picked Julia up and sat her on her own lap. She fed her little pieces of sandwich, and then tried to give her some tea.

"Stop!" Mira shrieked. Iracebeth froze, Stayne stiffened, and Julia covered her ears. Mirana grabbed Julia out of Iracebeth's arms and continued to yell, "Don't you know what tea does to children?"

"No, in fact, I don't," she stuttered back.

"Do you realize how hyper she could get? And then the depressed feeling she'll have when she crashes?" Mirana ran out of the room, forgetting about lunch, and dropped Julia off with her mother. She kissed her sister on the nose and headed off to bed- she was feeling a little light-headed.

The next day, Mirana lie in her bed, not bothering to get up. She felt like she was baking in an oven, but she couldn't truly lift her arms enough to move her blankets off her body. So she waited for Tarra until that afternoon, when she arrived with her brother and sister. When Tarra entered the room, Mira heard her tell them to wait a moment. She rushed inside and wiped the perspiration from her friend's face.

"How long have you been under this blanket?" she exclaimed. Mirana smiled weakly, her eyelids drooping over half her eyes.

"Since this morning. I'll be fine, honestly. Just get them off me." Tarra quickly whipped the blankets off the entire bed and folded them in the corner. Eventually, she did bring her siblings in. Mirana ogled at the boy standing timidly at the door. His hair was bright orange and he wore a ripped up top hat. In his arms, he held a little baby- no more than 8 months old- and was letting her suckle his finger.

"Mirana, this is my brother and sister- Tarrant and Nennie. Tarrant, this is Mirana of Crims, my best friend." Tarrant stood frozen, his eyes going from silver to blue to green to silver again.

Just seconds ago…

Tarrant, 8 years old

He stared at her tiny frame lying on the large mattress. Her hair was matted against her forehead with sweat and her cheeks were bright red, but she looked very pretty to him anyway. Her hair was a very dark brown and her skin was paler than his own (besides her cheeks, of course. Those were getting redder by the moment). Tarra kept looking back and forth between them, trying to figure out what they were doing. She mouthed "Okay…" to herself and went to help Mirana sit up. She leaned her friend's body against the wall behind her and pulled her brown hair into a ponytail behind her head.

"H-hello, Mr. Hightopp," whispered Mirana, exasperated from moving.

"Hello, princess."

"Please, just call me Mirana."

"On one condition, Mirana." He smirked and Mira furrowed her eyebrows.

"And what's that?"

"You call me Tarrant, not Mr. Hightopp. That is- excuse me, was- my father." He cast his eyes downward, composing himself, and looked back at her with a huge gap toothed grin.

"So when do I start?" he asked.

"Start what?"

"Being your friend."