Intertwined

Tumtums on the Brain

I follow Muse toward the house in the distance, the insane laughter getting louder and louder. My mind goes over all the people it could be, but I come to the answer pretty quickly when I see the long, over-stacked dinner table full of teacups, teapots, and dishes piled high with sweets of all kinds.

"So..."

"Yes?"

"The Mad Hatter, March Hare, and Dormouse?"

Muse makes a tiny sound at the back of his throat. "Herman Hattington is anything but 'mad', beauty." He says. "And it's March Hairless and Door Mouse, but the question nonetheless is correct.... in it's own way."

I frown slightly as Muse glances back at me and he spins around, stopping me in my tracks, to tap underneath my chin.

"Ah, that frown. We'll have none of that." He gives me an infectious smile that I quickly catch. "Much better."

I roll my eyes as he turns back around and leads me into the clearing. Well, not so much as a clearing, but a break in the trees where the table sits. Loud banging draws my attention to the end of the table and my eyes widen. The meaning of "in its own way" became clear in an instant.

At the head of the table sits a small man. To say "man" would be slightly inaccurate... He stood barely as tall as my hip and his face... a blank canvas of skin. Occasionally the likeness of his two companions at the table would flash across it like a reflection, but otherwise it remained blank. On top of his head was something I wouldn't have recognized had my grandma Jen never shown me one. Metal frames spouted from his skin to make a device that was used to make hats. A conformateur. I figured that's where the "hatter" part of his name came from.

His companions were on completely opposite sides of the spectrum from the other. The tallest was what I assumed to be the Hare...but instead of fur, he had none at all, pink skin covering his whole body. Which explains why he's called March Hairless. His eyes were completely white, like marbles, giving the illusion that he was blind. It was....unsettling to look at to say the least. The other was the Door Mouse, and the most normal of the group, who was sitting on a saucer on top of a precariously stacked pile of cups, fast asleep. He looked like I expected him to, much to my surprise, curled up wearing a little red jacket.

I take a tiny step back and Muse casts me a sideways glance. "You alright?"

I nod and he leads me towards the table, and as its three occupants notice us, they start to quiet down. By the time we reach the table, they're all completely silent, Hairless' eyes seemingly glued to us.

His jaw works for a second, all three of his crooked, yellow teeth visible. "Looks like the prince has brought us a guest."

The Door Mouse suddenly starts giggling hysterically in it's sleep. "A guest, a guest..." He rolls over and falls off the saucer, landing neatly into a half-full cup of tea. His hysteric laughter increases, bubbling the tea, and the other two join in.

Hattington jumps out of his chair and comes over, grabbing both Muse's hands in his and shaking them fiercely. "The Red Prince, Prince Muse, what brings you to our tea table?" He asks. His voice changes pitches as he speaks, warbling from deep to even deeper and back.

"To our table for tea time! He came for tea with a guest!" Door Mouse chimes in.

The table explodes into laughter and I give Muse a look.

Muse beams at Hattington and motions to me when the small man releases his hands. "This guest is named Astraia," he explains. "I'm showing her around Wonderland and I thought you three would like to meet her."