Author's note:

I'm back! Now, who missed me? *glares at everyone, daring them to say they didn't* All of you missed me? Awh, how sweet…

While writing the beginning I was obsessing over different colours, which is quite apparent in the descriptions. And this chapter is also the first one to be dedicated: It's dedicated to my friend OhMyTott, because she makes me laugh, and also to The Mad Hatter Rap, which I listened to while writing most of this. Enjoy! (or else…)

6. Silver Clouds

Weather in Underland could be strange, changing from one minute to the next. Isabel learned this while walking in the Tugley Swamps. Not more than ten minutes earlier, the sky had been a bright blue, almost turquoise, with some swirly pink clouds by the paler horizon. It had been quite pretty, actually. Not like now. Now the sky had darkened to a velvety lapis lazuli, streaked with silky silver clouds.

"Oh dear, it looks like rain." came the judgement.

Isabel was proven right, within a few minutes time, a heavy drop of rain hit her face. It bravely clinged on to the tip of her nose, only to plummet towards the ground. This, the first drop, was soon followed by others, all a beautiful shade of lavender. Giggling, Isabel stuck out her tongue, waiting for a drop to land on it. When one did, her eyes widened in surprise. This rain was nothing like the rain at home. It tasted somewhat like strawberries, and also of something else, something exotic, like the fruits that grew in China.

"Curious…" Isabel whispered, half expecting something to reply "Curious indeed." No one did reply, so Isabel said it herself.

The rain kept on falling, more and more, until Isabel was soaked in lavender drops. She realised she couldn't keep on standing out in the rain, she would get a could, and decided to take cover in the now abandoned windmill that lay not far from there.

Tarrant's eyes was a greenish blue in worry. Why hadn't Isabel gotten back yet? It was getting quite dark outside, soon it would be too dark to find the way at all. Had she wandered off in the wrong direction and lost her way? What if something had happened to her? He didn't think he could bear it if something happened to Isabel, because he was her father, and fathers was supposed to be making sure their daughters weren't harmed, right?

"I'm frightened, Alice." he whispered. "What if she's terribly hurt, or- or dead?"

"You mustn't speak like that!" Alice cried. "I'm sure she'll turn up any minute, fit as a fiddle."

"As a fiddle? That isn't good, children shouldn't be fiddles, fiddles aren't made out of fiddles, are they?"

"Well…" This was all Alice could say before Tarrant got into a rambling fit.

"Or are they made of children, I don't know. Can you make them out of cats? Because if you can, there is a very specific feline, I'd like to turn into a fiddle, or a hat. No, not a hat, he doesn't deserve it. But if he did, would the hat have evaporating powers? And-"

"Tarrant." Alice stopped him with a warm smile.

"Pardon…" Tarrant said with a meek smile.

"Stop apologizing." Alice leaned in on him, and planted a faint kiss on his pale cheek.

Isabel couldn't really understand how anyone could ever have lived in such a place as the windmill. It was drafty, there was a big hole in the roof, and Isabel was almost sure she'd seen a grey rat scramble across the blackened floor. Could this really be the place her father had lived up till recently? How could someone as colourful and happy as him have lived in such a daft, colourless place? She realised she'd probably have to stay in the windmill quite some time, and that she could just as well have a look around it.

On the bottom floor was only one room, the kitchen, filled with different foods in different states of decompose. Isabel wrinkled her nose at the smell, and decided to leave this room as soon as she could. Instead, she walked up the crooked stairs to the upper floor, divided to three separate rooms. One which was a strange blending of pink frills and miniature weapons. The second of the rooms was even stranger, turned completely upside-down, when Isabel entered it, she fell straight up in the ceiling, then having a tough time trying to climb out again.

Lastly there was the room that had belonged to Isabel's father. There was scraps of fabrics piled up to the ceiling, in some sort of pattern none but the Hatter himself could possibly understand. There was blue fabrics and red fabrics, and also some different fabrics without any colour at all, not even white, more of a transparent non-existent, but still there somehow. Isabel ran her fingers over the smooth surface, wondering over how a fabric like this could be made. Wanting to feel the fabric on all her skin, Isabel wrapped herself in it.

She walked over to the mirror to see how she would look, but there seemed to be something wrong with it, for she couldn't see herself in it.

"Stupid mirror." she sighed.

Then she looked down on herself, perhaps she'd be able to get an idea of how she looked, and couldn't help but gasp. She wasn't there anymore! She could feel her body, but she couldn't see it. Horrified, she threw it of, glad to see her legs and such reappear. There was a sudden rush of cold air, and Isabel found herself staring into a black eye and a black eye patch, shaped as a heart.

"Hello." the man said with a false smile. "What have we here?"

Author's note:

Now this chapter has reached its end. There might be another one a little later, but I'm not at all sure of that. I guess we'll just have to see. Apart from being the first chapter with a dedication, this is also the shortest, or so I think…