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Two of Hearts	By : HalfUnderwater Category: Titles in the Public Domain > Alice in Wonderland Views: 1652 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work fiction, based on the Alice in Wonderland book series.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Chapter Two

Welcome Home

After several hours of travel, the gilded carriage was ascending a large hill, following a tree-lined, lantern-lit path that circled around it. The path led up to a ring of tightly-packed gravel, which circled the fountain in front of the Orington residence. The manor itself was a veritable white-painted mansion, with six pillars stretching to the roof four stories above them.
Hare could not believe his eyes. Sure, his new master appeared wealthy, with his satin coat and leather boots and pristine white-gloved hands, but Hare would not have predicted wealth like this. Most families saved for years to afford a Serviteur to assist them with their work, and many times it was a farming family that needed help in their fields. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine ending up in a place as wealthy and prestigious as the Orington estate before him. It made him a little weak in the knees with worry.
"Welcome home," said Elk, watching Hare's reaction to his first sight of the enormous mansion sitting before them. He climbed down, helping the newly-trembling Hare from his seat before opening the door for the Oringtons. "Bow to your masters," he whispered in reminder, and Hare did so eagerly.
Mr. Orington descended first, giving a nod to acknowledge Hare's bow, the presence of which surprised him greatly. He hadn't expected even that much of the last-place hare, who watched him as he approached the main door. Just before Mr. Orington reached it, a large black dog servant appeared, taking his traveling bag from him and bowing low as he followed him inside.
"His manservant Doberman," said Nathaniel, watching the wonder on Hare's face as he climbed down. Hare, shocked by the sudden appearance of his master, rushed forward without bowing.
"Bow to your master," insisted Elk, perhaps a bit rougher than he should have. Hare flinched hard, closing his eyes and tugging his ears over them, expecting a rough beating for the infraction.
"Oh, give it a rest," snapped Nathaniel, feeling a strange twinge in his chest at the creature's reaction. He gave Elk a glare as he set his hand on Hare's shoulder and gently guided him toward the door. "No need for that nonsense. He's got enough on his mind."
When they stood on the wide marble terrace inside the pillars, Nathaniel stopped and turned to his new manservant.
"Don't let Elk get to you. He's kind, but painfully traditional. Are you doing alright?"
Hare blushed under the direct hazel gaze, fidgeting with his hands and feet and managing to stammer a quiet "yes" in response.
"Good," smiled Nathaniel, turning toward the door. "When we go in, there will be a very nice Housepet to take you to the dormitory and get you dressed in 'proper' clothes." He laughed as he said this, rolling his eyes. "Father's orders. But anyhow, her name is Dormouse, and she's lovely. You'll feel very comfortable in her care."
Hare followed Nathaniel's gaze to the door and it immediately opened, revealing a beautiful tan mouse with wide black eyes, dressed in a gown of soft pink fabric.
"Dormouse," said Nathaniel affectionately, and he reached into his traveling bag, producing a small wooden box. He opened it and handed it to her, smiling at the look of joy on her face.
"Oh, Nathaniel. Hazelnuts! You shouldn't have!"
She pressed her nose into the box, smelling them deeply as her eyes fluttered closed in delight.
"Well, I couldn't help but pick a few for you. We passed by an orchard on the way to get this fellow. Dormouse, this is Hare, and I was hoping you could show him to the dormitories. Hare," he said, turning to his new manservant, "this is Dormouse. She helped to raise me when I was young."
"It's nice to meet you," squeaked Dormouse gently, reaching for Hare's paw and leading him to the huge spiraling staircase. "Come with me. This is a lovely place to live and we'll get you all settled in. You'll start helping your new master in the morning. Tonight is a time for rest and sleep."
Hare had never climbed so many stairs in his life. Technically, he had never climbed any stairs in his life and though he knew the concept, the practice of it rendered him a little nervous. For instance, what if he tripped and fell down all of them? They were arranged in circles. If he fell, he would likely keep falling and falling until he reached the very bottom! Just the thought made him wobbly.
"My, you are quite a bit more fretful than the typical new servant, aren't you?" said Dormouse, and she took his arm to gently steady him.
After four circular flights leading up four stories, they reached a thick mahogany door, which Dormouse tapped at gently before opening. The room they entered was dimly lit with paper lanterns that hung above two long rows of beds. They all looked plush and warm, with small metal plaques bearing the names of the Serviteurs who slept in them. Half were there now, drenched in dim light from the sunset that filtered in through the shaded windows. Upon seeing them in their beds, Dormouse rang a large bell that hung upon the wall. One by one, the sleepy creatures sat up and rubbed at their eyes before standing and choosing clothing from trunks stored under their beds. They dressed in silence together.
"This is the night crew," Dormouse explained as she led him down the small row between the beds. "They work from sun down to sun up, every evening. The day crew should be coming in shortly to rest."
They continued walking past the rows of beds, where a large living area began. There were couches, plush chairs, books, and games, all for the enjoyment of the Housepets.
"Each creature who works a shift also gets an hour or two of break each day, depending on their job. Some creatures enjoy spending it here. Now, you are not on a shift. As a manservant, your job is considered a round-the-clock one. You will sleep here," she said, climbing a small ladder to a lofted area where only four beds were arranged. "This area is for on-call Pets. I sleep here, in the red bed, as I'm in charge of all Housepet organization. Master Orington and his wife have their personal servants as well. I believe you saw Doberman when you arrived. He has the blue bed there. Mistress' maid is Antelope, and she has the pink bed there. I could not guess at your favorite color, but I assigned you the green bed in hopes that you would like it."
Hare was feeling a little teary at the hospitality of the kindhearted dormouse, and he walked over to his bed, pressing the foot of it gently. The green blanket was plush and soft, the mattress cushioning his hand.
"I...this is for...me?" he asked. Matilda had beat into his head from day one that he would be sleeping on cold concrete in a moldy basement, so he could scarcely believe that such good fortune as a clean, soft bed really existed.
"Many are shocked, when they arrive here. Master and Mistress treat their servants very well, Hare. You are lucky to be here. Now," Dormouse said, turning to the large chest of drawers before her. "What size clothing do you wear?"
Hare had never been embarrassed about the shabby, threadbare state of his clothing before, but he suddenly flushed a bright pink under his fur and crossed his arms over his chest.
"I've never exactly been told," he mumbled, looking down at his thin body.
"Well, you look to be a small size to me. Let's try this one," she said, handing him a white shirt with no sleeves to it. "It's to go under your vest, you see, so that it doesn't irritate your skin. Here, try this size for a vest, and this size for trousers."
Hare slipped the shirt over his head, trying to look knowledgeable about the crisp, fancy design, but his head was stuck through the hole for his arm, and it wouldn't come free. He was afraid Dormouse would mock him and tease him for his stupidity, but she simply reached forward, slipped his head clear of the shirt, and rearranged it until it fell correctly on his chest.
"There," she said with a smile, helping him into his teal and gold vest. It was much like the one Elk had been wearing and Hare was quite enamored of it, running his fingers along the soft velvet.
The trousers looked simple enough, but he got them on backwards and once again had to be aided by Dormouse, who patiently helped him stand steady as he slipped his feet through the legs. When they were on, she showed him how to fasten them around his waist and pull his tail through the small hole in the back.
"Dashing," she said happily as she chose a few more items from the drawers and arranged them in the small trunk made for Hare's belongings. "Now, here are your working outfits, and here are your nightclothes. No need to be worried here, Hare. Nathaniel is the loveliest human I have ever met."
Hare's ears perked up at this, and he suddenly remembered what Nathaniel had said: Dormouse had raised him. That being so, she must know an awful lot about him.
"Will you tell me about him? The only humans I've known are M-Matilda and her husband," he said, flinching at the simple mention of her name.
"Is she still as miserable as she was when I knew her? Awful woman. Dreadful, really."
"Yes, still dishes out beatings more commonly than meals."
Dormouse shook her head at that sadly.
"Well, Nathaniel is nothing like that. We're not technically allowed to speak about our masters when they are not present, but I can tell you that he's very kindhearted. He has, on occasion, been driven to protests on our behalf. He's half the reason the shift workers get a break during the day! At a very young age, he used arguments about efficiency of work, benefits and costs of schedule change. It has always been remarkable. I think you'll find him to be a very caring and understanding master, though you are, of course, encouraged to form your own opinion. He'll be requesting your aid early in the morning, I would suppose, by pulling a rope in his quarters. This will trigger the bell next to your bed, here, and you will get up to assist him. As tomorrow is your first day, I will show you to his room."
Hare gave a sheepish, nervous smile, wondering if he was dreaming. He had never thought to wish for something as magnificent as this place, such a wonderful guide, and so comfortable a bed. Having tried on his daily clothing, he slipped it off and changed into his nightclothes: a gown of soft blue and warm, fuzzy slippers. He promptly crawled under his sheets and sighed in delight at the plush mattress cradling his body, which had not been properly stretched out for months.
"Thank you so much, Dormouse," he mumbled, half asleep by the time his head hit the pillow.
"Sleep well, Hare," she said with a smile, tugging the small string on the lantern above his bed and drenching him in darkness.
From below, he could hear the rustle of many Pets coming in from their shifts, talking and playing games together as the others shuffled off to work. It was the sound of living in a house. It was the sound of a possible future. It was the sound of not being stew.

----------

Hare was jolted awake by the impossibly loud tinkling of a little bell above his head. He watched it flicking back and forth a moment with sleep-heavy eyes before he fully remembered what it meant. When he did, he darted out of bed so quickly he nearly fell flat on his face.
Antelope, who was sitting up in the bed across from him, gave a soft chuckle as she turned the page of her newspaper.
Hare ducked down below the side of his bed to gather his wits again, but he was already shaking. This was the first day of his new life, the first day of real work. It was the only time he had ever been worried about how abysmal his testing scores were. He had failed everything—from bathing a master to dressing a master to being able to stand still. But then again, he had never had a real motivation to do well. He reasoned through it as he dressed. It was obvious that the fear of punishment only made his performance worse, but he had no fear of that now. His new master had tossed his whipping rod away, into the pond by the little houses. And he didn't seem like the whipping sort anyway. Hare remembered every kind thing that Nathaniel had done for him. There had been dozens, though he had only spent a few hours time with him.
He would be good at his job, he resolved, not for fear of punishment but for Nathaniel, for someone he respected.
With that resolve strong in his heart, he straightened up, smoothed out his vest, and walked carefully to the door. Dormouse was waiting near it with a smile, and she showed him to Nathaniel's quarters on the fourth floor.

----------

Nathaniel groaned loudly at the ringing of the bell. Though the sound was far away, it was loud enough to be rousing, and he buried his head under his pillow, trying to block it all out. Unfortunately, it was quite incessant and he finally tossed his pillow away, yawning widely as he sat up, rubbing his sleep-weary eyes. He startled as he realized he was not alone, adrenaline rushing through him momentarily before he identified the intruder. His father's servant, Doberman, was standing at the bell's pull-string, yanking it over and over again.
"Your father has instructed me to wake the new Hare for you," he said stiffly, only falling still when the bell's tinkling ceased. Hare must have indeed been woken by the racket and had covered the bell to stop its horrible chiming.
Nathaniel could never have summoned his Pet like that, and his nose wrinkled in disgust. His father must have known this. In the carriage on the way home, he had gotten an entire lecture about the proper treatment of a Pet, including a stern way of speaking, commanding instructions, and punishment for even the slightest indiscretion in order to break bad habits. For most of it, he had stared out the window with an icy gaze, arms crossed over his chest to indicate his level of disinterest. That hadn't pleased his father, he supposed, and that was the reason for Doberman's presence.
"Your father," the dog continued, "would also like to remind you of your new duties as a master. Do not disappoint him. Good day, Nathaniel Orington."
The Pet turned on his heel and marched toward the door, opening it just as Hare knocked, and sidestepped him rudely to leave the room quickly. The young hare stood in the doorway awkwardly, unsure what to do with his hands, overwhelmed by the fact that his future stood just across the threshold, a mere step away. Nathaniel leaned back against his headboard, rubbing the back of his head and yawning again.
"Good morning, Hare," he said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He, too, could feel the awkwardness spreading through the room, paralyzing both of them with uncertainty. Was Hare supposed to get his clothes, or just stand there? He knew what his father would say, that if Hare didn't do what was expected of a manservant automatically, he needed to be corrected with a snap of the whipping rod and made to do as he was told. Nathaniel opened his mouth to command this, but then frowned in confusion, standing as the nervous rabbit stepped in. His father's way was not his way. He had grown in the company of the creatures and knew them to be beautiful and complex, not at all to be mistreated. All thoughts of commanding Hare to do anything fell out of consideration. The door slipped closed behind the hare's little cotton tail and shut with a soft click. Hare's fingers were shaking and he held them behind his back, grasping them tightly to keep them still, instantly worried that the frown on Nathaniel's face was caused by him. He flinched at the thought, his thin body trembling automatically at the memory of the beatings such an expression often brought with it.
"How did you sleep?" mumbled Nathaniel, hoping to comfort Hare by drawing him out of the nervousness they were both wrapped in.
"I s-slept well," Hare managed. "Really well. It was the most restful and comfortable night of sleep I've ever had. Thank you," he said, only then remembering to bow. He bowed so low his ears brushed against the floor. "Did you s-sleep well, Master Orington?" He dared to look up then, just a little, pink eyes gazing nervously upward.
Nathaniel chuckled and shook his head.
"I did, Hare. The first order of business today will be trimming those ears!" he said with a genuine tone of teasing in his voice as he slipped on a pair of white gloves. "We can't have them brushing on the floor each time you bow."
But joking as it was, the prospect obviously horrified Hare, for he frowned and let his ears flop down behind his head.
"Or, you could just not bow anymore. Ever," said Nathaniel seriously, removing a pair of loose, dark red trousers from the drawer of his ornate mahogany chest. He wobbled as he slipped them on. "Let's go with that option. Seriously, Hare, I'm not 'Master,' not 'Sir.' Call me Nathaniel. Or Hatter; that's what Grams calls me, anyhow."
Hare stood there for a moment, dumbfounded as Nathaniel chose a white tee and donned his slippers.
"You...you mean it?" he asked, blinking. For a moment he wondered if he should be offended, if Nathaniel was being kind because he thought Hare couldn't do his job, now that it came down to it. But he had spoken with such a kind voice, such a genuine smile, that Hare could scarcely doubt his sincerity.
Nathaniel approached him then, his hair still messy with sleep, its soft waves gently tousled.
"I mean it," he said as he passed, waving at Hare to follow him downstairs. "Do you need any more blankets up there in the dormitories? Pillows? I bet you didn't get much at Matilda's cottage."
"I couldn't ask for anything more. It's lovely there, Mast...er, Nathaniel. Nathaniel," he said, as if testing the word on his tongue. "You've got a nice name..."
"Got it from my mom." Nathaniel laughed as if it were the funniest thing he'd ever said. Hare certainly thought it was, and he laughed into his soft paws as he covered his smile with them.
Smiling. He was smiling! A day ago, he was destined for stew, with no hope of being saved. Today, he was at his master's side, smiling with glee. Hare followed after him, intrigued. He was curious about everything that made up Nathaniel's world, all the simple things like what he ate for breakfast and what he did during the day, who he knew and what he spoke of behind closed doors. At the moment, though, the only closed door Nathaniel was heading for was the kitchen, where he could stop the growling noises of his stomach, and Hare gladly followed him.
Hare didn't realize there was a way to slam a door open, so he was surprised when Nathaniel managed it. The two of them burst into the room, but there was no one on the other side to be surprised. Nathaniel plopped down at the small table in the private family dining room. For being so rich, the small quarters were rather quaint. A plain white tablecloth rested on the smooth, dark wood and a crystal vase of wild daisies was displayed in the middle.
Nathaniel puzzled over the fact that Hare just stood there, staring blankly at him as he settled into his chair. It was only then he remembered that Pets were supposed to stand near their seated masters or sit at a special hidden table of their own. There was a hidden table, in a small room through a sliding panel in the wall, where Pets were to eat. Nathaniel frowned, once again at odds with his father's direct instructions. Mr. Orington would never approve of Nathaniel so blatantly disregarding the norms of his very culture and home, especially so early into owning his first Pet, and he was sure Hare had been taught "right" and "wrong" at Matilda's awful cottage. But it just didn't seem right, keeping him apart.
"Do you want to sit, Hare?" Nathaniel asked, gently pushing a chair out with his foot. "I usually like cereal with berries in the morning. Is that okay, or would you like something else?"
Hare just stared, dumbfounded, only managing to move toward the chair after a few moments of reverent awe.
"R-real berries?" he mumbled as he set his fingers on the soft tablecloth, letting the texture slide against his skin. "I've never had anything but nutrient-enriched gruel, to be honest. Why are you treating me so..." Hare paused, thinking of the word. "So equal? I'm not equal. You could squash me like a bug, or hire someone to do it if you're squeamish, or, or..." He pursed his lips, looking down into his lap, unsure what to say. Everything about the morning was unnerving, in a sense.
Nathaniel flicked his hand in the air easily, as if waving off the question.
"See, I need a Pet to squash my bugs for me. If I treated you poorly, you'd refuse to squash said bugs, then there would be an infestation, and I'd be covered in bread&butterflies, rockinghorseflies, and the like. So, I treat you well so you will squash them, when the time comes," and then, as an afterthought, "Yes, real berries."
Nathaniel was smiling, hoping the joking manner of his response in no way detracted from the true meaning of his words. He disappeared into the kitchen looking for Owl, the head chef that typically prepared his morning meals. He was nowhere to be found as, due to Doberman's wake-up call, it was much earlier in the morning than usual. After rifling in the cupboards for a moment, he found the jar of handmade bran flakes and scooped a fair amount into two bowls, topped them with chilled berries from the icebox, and poured a modest amount of milk on top. It was lucky he had promised cereal instead of pancakes and eggs because, truth be told, cereal was the only thing he could make aside from toast.
"I've had lots of practice at squashing bugs," said Hare when Nathaniel reemerged. "I'm very good at it. Very dependable."
Nathaniel smiled, setting the bowl in front of him and handing him a golden spoon.
"That's good to know. I'm sure there will be all sorts of monstrous insects for you to deal with."
But by that point, Hare was no longer listening. He was holding the spoon, staring at himself in the back of it and then glancing down at his cereal, back and forth. It was evident that Nathaniel had prepared the cereal himself, and he could tell from a small nibble of the spoon that he was about to be eating with pure gold—two things he had never anticipated for a life that was supposed to be short and miserable.
"This looks so lovely, Nathaniel..." he whispered as his master took a seat beside him. But Nathaniel shook his head as he gazed down upon the sloppy presentation of berries and brown cereal.
"Owl would have decorated it with mint sprigs and arranged the berries in some enticing way," he said as he dug in, playfully tossing a napkin in Hare's direction. "But next time, you will prepare it. We'll take turns when Owl is away."
Just then, the main door swung open to reveal Mr. Orington. He stood there for a moment, wearing an expensive velvet robe, his arms folded over his chest. Owl stood obediently behind him.
Hare's very first bite of cereal was perched precariously on his spoon, and his fingers shook so badly that it clattered to the table, spraying little droplets of milk and flakes of bran onto the pristine tablecloth. A furious blush worked its way to his cheeks.
"Good morning Nathaniel, Hare," said Mr. Orington firmly in his deep, authoritative voice. He nodded to both of them, but his subtle scowl revealed his intense displeasure at Hare's place at the table.
"G-good morning, Master Orington," said Hare carefully. He averted his eyes, lowering them automatically in submission. Perhaps he had no reason to fear the man, but he saw the scowl. It was directed straight at him. "I hope you found peace in your slumber last evening." It was something cold and thoughtless that Matilda had taught him. He was hoping it would placate the man.
"I had a lovely evening. Thank you," he said coldly, though he appreciated the respect the comment showed. He considered for a moment mentioning the proper place and food for Pets at mealtimes, but he kept his mouth shut. He was not surprised that Nathaniel was so openly mocking the system upon which society was built. Nathaniel was nearly a man, would soon have a family of his own, and could be coddled no longer. Society would correct him on its own. And, aside from that, it wasn't worth the fight that would ensue. So instead, Mr. Orington simply said, "Nathaniel, show Hare around and make sure he understands his duties."
With that, he marched to the kitchen with Owl following quickly after. Nathaniel stuck his tongue out in a very childish way after his father.
"Do this, Nathaniel. Do that. Go there," he said mockingly, borrowing his father's impersonal, self-important tone. His nose was wrinkled for a moment in annoyed disgust, but his face softened as he dug his spoon into his cereal once more. He handed Hare's spoon back to him as he took a bite. "Eat, Hare, and I'll tell you your duties from here."
Hare leaned a little closer to Nathaniel, sensing instinctively that he would protect him if anything bad were to happen. He'd protect Nathaniel too, if he ever got an opportunity to do so. He was delightful, really, more than Hare had ever thought of hoping for back in the dreary valley where he was raised.
He lifted the spoon carefully to his mouth, a single flake of bran and a single berry perched there in a puddle of milk. He slowly leaned in and took his first bite of real food. The perfect crunch of the cereal, the coldness of the milk, the way the berries squished so easily in comparison, everything joined in a whirlwind of flavor that nearly knocked him from his chair. But then suddenly Nathaniel was talking about tasks, and though he was using a snide, sarcastic tone, he made it sound impossibly difficult.
"...a huge, scary list of backbreaking tasks that only a fuzzy creature could handle," he was saying, gesticulating with his white-gloved hands.
"I fear I'm not very strong..." Hare murmured, looking into those patient hazel eyes. "But I'll do my best. I promise. What are they?"
"They are as follows. One," and he held up one finger. "In the morning, you are to make sure I do not leave the room without pants. My father despises that. But on that note, I suppose it would be alright once in a while. Two: During the day, when I am away at school, you are to help the others in the house. I know that it's not the most enjoyable task. It may consist of chopping carrots or folding laundry, but I have already informed Dormouse that you should get a fair amount of rest during the day. During that rest, you are to eat any food you see, look at any books you find, nap, or anything else you please, such as going outside and playing. Three: When I return from school in the afternoon, you are to stay at my side and do whatever I tell you, which will consist of laughing at my bad jokes and not telling my parents when I sneak off and cause mischief. And finally four: At night, you are to have pleasant dreams. If they are not pleasant, you are to report to my room so that I may comfort you." Nathaniel smiled, taking a big heaping spoonful of cereal and berries and speaking around it as he crunched. "How's that? Any requests?"
Hare beamed, laughing at the silly list of chores. Nathaniel was so friendly, so smooth and suave and confident. Hare felt like a better person, just for having known him a few hours.
"I'd be happy to help the other Pets, but...I want to cause mischief too," he mumbled, smiling a silly little smile up at Nathaniel. He crunched at his cereal and drank all the purple, berry-stained milk when it was gone, his stomach aching from fullness.
Nathaniel raised his eyebrows, taking a slow gulp of milk.
"Oh, you do? And here I thought I bought a docile white Pet, not a partner in crime." Nathaniel stood, smirking.
"I'll be a wonderful partner in crime. I keep very good secrets," Hare mumbled, following suit. Nathaniel reached for the empty bowls, but Hare snatched them up quickly, nearly falling over in the process. He liked the thought of helping Nathaniel. "Show me where to put them?"
It was then that Mr. Orington reemerged from the kitchen, a small ferret Pet carrying a tray of food after him.
Nathaniel placed his hands on his hips, face mock angry as he turned to Hare.
"AND THAT IS THAT," he shouted at Hare, giving a wink and gesturing madly toward the kitchen. "NOW GO BUILD ME A PYRAMID, PET!"
Mr. Orington opened his mouth to say something, but as he surveyed the situation, he decided against it. He only barked out a flat, "Have a good day, Nathaniel," then shook his head and left.
"Build you a pyramid of what?" asked Hare innocently when he was gone, following Nathaniel toward the kitchen with the bowls held preciously against his chest.
"Of marshmallows. Build me a pyramid of marshmallows and chocolate," he responded, but his tone was sad, and he leaned against the wall next to the kitchen's door.
"Your father doesn't understand you very well, does he? Does he always disapprove so much?"
Nathaniel closed his eyes and folded his arms over his chest.
"He doesn't even yell. He just talks with all this authority in his voice. He just talks at me," he said, and Hare wasn't imagining the wounded tone he heard behind Nathaniel's words. But his face hardened slightly as he shook his head and led Hare into the kitchen, pointing out where to put the dishes. "I never really understood before, you know. But now I do. Your kind are just like mine...with funny ears."
"And funny tails," Hare added as he dropped the dishes carefully into the designated sink. "Funny tails, too. Anyhow, I'm going to work on your marshmallow pyramid when you're away at school. I'm going to get chocolate everywhere. It will be messy."
"Be sure to tell them it's a task directly from me," said Nathaniel, brightening a little at Hare's idea of turning the joke into something tangible. "For now, let's go explore."

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The long halls of the Orington estate held many stories, and as Nathaniel led Hare along, he told him the interesting bits. The manor itself was built a few decades ago by Nathaniel's grandfather, who had risen to an unheard of social status with his import-export business. He had been a peasant with aspirations, carefully building his dreams from the ground and making success his own. Hare, though, was more interested in how Nathaniel related to his childhood home, and they spent a good amount of the afternoon investigating the places Nathaniel had hidden when he was younger. There were a great number of them—behind tapestries, in large closets, in service corridors that had fallen into disuse. One such corridor ended in a small room plastered with maps and strewn with musty pillows.
"Did they teach you anything about Wonderland when you were raised?" asked Nathaniel, sliding his fingers over a worn map of the city.
To Matilda, knowledge was power, and power in the hands of a Pet was nothing but dangerous. Hare shook his head.
"Well, step over here, then."
Hare approached the large piece of parchment plastered to the wall and cocked his head slightly to the side, trying to make sense of it all.
"This is the capital city, you see, where we are now," explained Nathaniel gently. "It's a view of the buildings, from above."
Hare leaned in closer, peering at the little sun-bleached lines and symbols carefully drawn there.
"Oh!" exclaimed Hare as the images resolved into tiny buildings and roads. "Like we're flying above the city. Like birds!"
"Yes. And that bird would see us here," he said, touching one of the largest manors on the map. "In the House of Spades."
With great patience, he pointed out the southern mountains, the ones they had come through on their journey to Wonderland's capital on a long, winding road. He showed him how each district of the city had the shape of a card suit—Diamond to the south, Club to the east, Spade to the west, and the Royal Suit of Hearts to the very north.
"Each House sees the world a little differently," said Nathaniel as Hare leaned in to examine the houses. "Diamond citizens are very concerned with the appearance of wealth. To live in the manor there is to live nearly as plentifully as the Queen herself, to which she sometimes takes offense. Club citizens are most concerned with social affairs. There are three main manors there, and even you lack enough ear to hear all the gossip that exists between them. Spade citizens prize hard work and complex business tactics, and tend to profit well from them. And the Royal House, which prizes power...Well, I'm sure you've heard the horror stories there."
Hare knew card suits all too well himself, but in a different context. Once, Ostrich had stolen a pack of cards from a visiting baron and all Matilda's Pets had made up games to play with them at night. But then, as Matilda had promised that any joy would invariably end, Ostrich was hanged for her extreme disobedience. Hare's ears fell across his eyes in sadness at the memory. Nathaniel, who believed him to slump in sadness about the horror of the Royal House, gently wrapped an arm around the Hare and roused him from the state with a gentle nudge.
"And you're from here," he said gently, moving to the next map on the wall and pointing to a clearing in the vast forest. "See? Here is the capital, and here is how far we had to travel to have the good fortune of getting you." Nathaniel's white-gloved fingers traced the winding road far to the east. As Hare examined the little clearing, he realized that had anyone managed to escape, there was truly nothing but dense forest in store for them. The capital was closest, and even that was through the mountains. Matilda had been right when she told them escape was a futile attempt.
"Is this all of it?" he asked incredulously.
"All of what?" asked Nathaniel, looking down at the disbelieving Hare, amused.
"The world!"
Nathaniel laughed kindly at that and guided Hare onward, to a map of the whole of Wonderland, where the sprawling city was the size of a pea, and where different shading indicated the use of the country's land. The coast was good for fishing, the riverbeds good for farming, the mountains good for mining, and the other large dots represented the industrial centers of the Queendom. Hare stumbled forward, placing his hands on the map, sliding them over its worn surface.
"And even that is only the Queendom," said Nathaniel, unrolling a much larger map. "This is the entire world. Here's Wonderland, see? This island here. But there are others as well. Fantasyland is here, just across a little water. Farther off are Orientatum and Indoninja. And this one," he said, pointing to a large, ill-defined mass of land to the far west, "this one is Neverland, because no on has ever been there."
"If no one's ever been there, how do you know it exists?" asked Hare astutely.
"People have sailed around it, but no one has ever set foot on it, you see. Word is, it'll become Heartland, after the Queen, once it's been properly explored. Unless it's dreadful. Actually, especially if it's dreadful."
Nathaniel couldn't help but chuckle at his own statement, and he soon broke into good-natured laughter, but Hare just stared up at him looking a little bug-eyed.
"You look like you swallowed something poisonous," noted Nathaniel, raising an eyebrow as he turned back to the map, rolling it back up carefully.
Hare had a hand clamped over his mouth.
"You...you spoke ill of our gracious ruler, the Queen!" he exclaimed in a vehement whisper behind his fingers, not wanting anyone to hear, though they were quite alone. "Is that...allowed? Are you allowed to do that?"
"You, having such reverence for the Queen!" Nathaniel spun on his heel in shock, map still in hand. Hare cowered, for its heavy, thick parchment could be used as a weapon against him quite easily, and his master's tone conveyed an unprecedented amount of disgust. "Who do you think approves the zoning for that awful place you grew up in? They've trained you to praise the queen, the vicious queen who not only ignores her subjects, but encourages their blind submission at any cost!"
Nathaniel was going a bit red. Hare stared up at him, his eyes hard and shining and frightened, trembling under such a sharp and direct burst of words. He nervously took a few steps back, tripping over his feet clumsily and falling into a pile of pillows, sending a cloud of dust into the air. He was terrified of Nathaniel's anger. But inside Nathaniel, it wasn't really anger. It was surprise—deeply-rooted astonishment. He had been certain that a deep-seated hatred for the tyrant queen was something they would certainly have in common. He had looked forward to finding one other person in the entire world with whom he could share that conviction. But perhaps he was expecting too much of the poor hare, who had just that day been given a chance at a future. At any rate, he realized he must have looked fearsome to the poor creature, and fell silent, dropping his hands and taking a few calming breaths as he let the map clatter to the floor.
"No, Hare," he said gently, shaking his head. "No one is permitted to say such things. But they should be. And it's why I do."
Hare was still trembling nervously as he gazed up at his master.
"I know what she's d-done, how evil she is. I've just never met anyone like you before. I've never met someone who isn't afraid to say w-what they really think of her," he mumbled. His eyes appeared to tear up for a moment and he crawled forward, wrapping his arms around his master's knees and pressing his face into the leg of his expensive trousers. "Forgive me, for speaking out of line."
"Hey, now," said Nathaniel reassuringly as he reached down to help Hare back to his feet. "You can say whatever comes to mind. You're allowed to, with me. Just don't pretend to respect that fat, moldy joker of hearts. Don't pretend anything. Now, what do you say we go look around a bit more?"

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The sun was setting, coloring the Wonderland sky bright pinks and oranges above the tall trees of the Orington estate. Nathaniel and his hare sat under the largest one, relaxing in the soft grass as night began to spread its darkness over the bright colors. They had spent the day in further exploration of the estate, even sneaking into the manor's basement warehouses where the Orington Import-Export goods were kept and dodging the busy Housepets hauling boxes around. In one room they had found a wooden chest of old hats and Nathaniel tried them on, trying to find one like the family heirloom his grandfather had worn. When they failed, for nothing could be as simply elegant as the late Orington forefather, Nathaniel showed Hare to the large gardens. There they spent the afternoon exploring the paths and small forests, admiring the extensive flower gardens with their sculpted bushes, and picking choice flowers for the bouquet on the dining room table.
"How did you like the mischief we got into today?" asked Nathaniel lazily as he wove a long blade of grass around his fingers. His white gloves were already tinged a light green from the action.
Hare leaned back against the thick trunk of the tree and watched, trying to imitate the soft and graceful movements of Nathaniel's fingers as they kept the blade moving, flowing around each finger as if by magic. His only got tangled.
"Sneaking into the basement, you mean?" he asked as he tossed his kinked blade of grass aside and chose another to try, plucking it from the earth. "I thought it was very exciting."
"Would more severe mischief be exciting?" Nathaniel asked, reaching over and weaving the grass properly around Hare's shorter fingers.
"By extension, it would be more exciting," said Hare, furrowing his brow in concentration as his master moved his fingers for him, showing him how it was done.
"Then there's one last place I should show you. It should be dark enough by now."
That got Hare's attention, and he looked up at his master with his soft magenta eyes as the grass got tangled once again. Nathaniel laughed softly and slipped the grass away, letting it float to the ground as he stood, tugging Hare gently with him.
"We're going to have to be quick," said Nathaniel, turning toward the north and squinting into the distance. He began a brisk jog and called back to Hare gently, "Stay close."
Hare smiled, jogging quickly to keep up, bounding across the forest floor. He picked up speed, but still his master was slipping farther and farther ahead of him, and he was struggling to keep him in sight. When Nathaniel realized the only footfalls he heard were his own, he paused and turned around, surveying the forest.
"Hare!" he called out, retracing his steps. He found the little ball of white fur panting and out of breath, obviously unaccustomed to so much exercise. Nathaniel remembered the tiny little house where he had been kept, with barely enough room to stretch, let alone run.
"Here, hold on," said Nathaniel gently as he lifted the Pet and put him on his back, perfectly willing to give the tired creature a piggyback ride as he darted northward once more.
Hare couldn't help but let out a soft laugh of exhilaration as he clung to Nathaniel with all his might, nestling his cheek into the warmth of his soft shirt and watching the trees fly by. They soon came to a field of thick teal wheat that stretched all the way to a far-off tin-roofed barn. During the day, many Pets were working it with careful hands, tending to stalks, spreading fertilizer, and checking soil composition. At night, it was left untended, and Nathaniel didn't hesitate in darting into one of the long rows and racing toward the barn. Hare stuck his hand out, laughing in glee at the feel of the stalks rushing past his palm. Normally he would have been frightened of punishment for such a sound of happiness, but he was beginning to see that Nathaniel was nothing like the others of his world. He seemed truly one of a kind, and he realized then that from that moment on, the only person he would respect with the reverence of royalty would be his new master.
They arrived then, Nathaniel slowing to a walk as the large building loomed in front of them. The metal of its roof was reflecting the moonlight in a soft white glow.
"It's kind of scary in there," said Nathaniel as Hare slid to the ground. "I'll hold your hand."
Hare smiled as Nathaniel's warm gloved hand enveloped his own, which was slightly chilled from the night air. The two found an unlocked side door, which allowed them to slip into the barn. It was impossibly dark inside and Nathaniel found his way around through touch and memory alone, evading bags of fertilizer and shelves of equipment. He eventually led them to a wooden staircase, and after a few mishaps on Hare's part, they made it to the second floor. An electric lantern was within reach, and even its dim light momentarily blinded them.
"So many spots in my eyes!" groaned Hare, laughing as he blinked to clear his vision.
There were long tables on the floor, stretching as far as the soft light would shine to show them. Something was piled upon them. Whatever it was, they were delicately covered by squares of gold satin fabric. Nathaniel ducked under the closest table, motioning for Hare to join him, and as the small white hare took his place at his master's side, Nathaniel reached up and slid his hand under one of the fabric squares. It soon reemerged holding a pink teacake filled with peach crème.

"I bet you never had these in the cottage," he said with a self-satisfied smirk as he broke the cake in half, offering some to Hare. The crème oozed onto his glove.
Hare's eyes widened as he took his half from Nathaniel's waiting hand, sniffing it thoroughly, taking in every scent he could.
"I've never seen anything like this before," he gasped, his fingers brushing tenderly over the pastry. "Is this...this entire bit for me?"
Nathaniel smiled a little wider as he took a bite of his half.
"Technically, they're for a party my father is having in honor of the queen tomorrow. But you know how I feel about the queen, and I believe it to be your right to nibble on all the teacakes your little heart desires, stealing or not."
It felt like an epiphany to Hare. He was meant to be here, he was sure, disobeying the queen, touching a teacake he wasn't meant to touch, and when he bit into the sweet little pastry, he let out a soft moan of surprise. His eyes fluttered shut and his ears drooped over them, his body going half limp against Nathaniel's side as the flavors assaulted his tongue. Never before had he had this experience. He had been raised on gruel—only gruel and coldheartedness—for as long as he could remember. But now there was cake in the world, and there was Nathaniel. Now things were looking up.
Nathaniel saw the glimmer in Hare's eye as he ate the peach crème, the same glimmer he saw whenever his father made a sale, whenever the house tailor sewed a seam, whenever his grandfather had finished a clock, rest his soul. He could tell beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was Hare's true calling in life, a place he would excel without question. Nathaniel was inspired, mad with ideas. He began rushing about, grabbing all different treats: a chocolate raspberry eclair, a honey lavender puff, a mint julep turnover.
"Try this!" Hatter said over and over, placing a morsel in Hare's paws and darting off to find another. He had piled about twenty treats in front of him before he was struck with an idea. "Wait here!" he said, leaving Hare under the table with the treats, running toward the back of the room.
Hare, who had never seen such fine food in his life, was tempted to gorge himself on the veritable feast that Nathaniel had laid in front of him, but he restrained himself, knowing somehow that all the sweet, beautiful goodness would make him ill if he overindulged. He nibbled softly at each one, distinguishing differences in flavor and naming them in his head, trying to keep them straight. He wondered at the happiness he saw in his master's eyes. When he darted away, Hare began to feel a little nervous. What if he was caught there alone with all the illicit pastries? But he trusted Nathaniel would be back for him, so he remained under the table, carefully examining the plethora of tarts and pastries, sniffing and tasting and feeling them, and waiting.
A few minutes later, Nathaniel returned, holding a cup of hot liquid. He held it out to the hare, sitting close.
"Taste this," he said as Hare carefully leaned in. "It's the purest form of tea. It's a black tea made with the freshest herbs and spices, imported from Orientatum."
Nathaniel watched closely, hoping his inkling was correct. He had a world of fancy teas to choose from, all destined for the Queen's private store, and he ended up choosing the purest and most natural for the Housepet's first taste.
Hare leaned in, letting the steam drift to his nose, taking in the sharp, pure scent of it. His ears twitched in response and he nibbled on the porcelain for a moment before placing his hand over Nathaniel's, steadying the teacup and taking a small sip. Again, flavor accosted his tongue, and he could feel the warmth of it in his stomach, heating him from the inside.
"Oh, Master Orington," he gasped, indulging in another sip. "This is lovely. This is tea, you say? Are there different teas, like there are different pastries?" He turned to the small array of pastries in front of him and sniffed delicately at each one, eventually lifting the chocolate raspberry eclair and dipping the edge of it slightly in the amber liquid. "Tell me...do I understand this correctly?" he asked, holding the dipped pastry to his master's lips. "These two should be paired. It's like...the bird and the nest. The seed and the field. One brightens and molds the other, so that both turn out better for having the other with them. Perhaps like me...and like you..." Hare looked down then, a wild blush having consumed his cheeks, for he had never made such a long and metaphoric speech in his life. But the pastry was still placed at Nathaniel's lips, ready for him to taste.
Nathaniel listened in wonder, blinking, smiling at the beauty and depth of his hare's natural inclination toward the art of flavors. He leaned in, taking a nibble of the dipped pastry, and his eyes widened with surprise at the way the flavors did exactly what Hare had described. They were greater together than either one was separately.
"You will make a great pastry chef one day. Do you understand?" he asked, his eyebrows raising in his surprise. "You are the brightest Housepet I've ever met in my entire life!"
Hare's blush only deepened. He leaned against Nathaniel and found an encouraging hug waiting for him there. He felt safe and warm in a way he only vaguely remembered from the first week of his life, when he was allowed to nestle into his mother and live from her kind and gentle nourishment. Hare could feel his modesty overtaking him, though, and he mumbled, "But there are so many Housepets, and all so good at their work. Surely I'm not the very brightest. I was nearly stew so many times in the cottage. But I'm glad to have made you happy tonight. I'm happy too. I would love to learn this, to make these beautiful pastries, to prepare tea to perfection. This is beauty...". Hare lifted another teacake and licked tentatively at the frosting. He got some on his nose, and Nathaniel snorted in amusement before wiping it off.
"You know, I get lonely in the manor. My parents have passed me off to others since the moment I was born, and the Pets are often too busy with the business to explore the grounds and pick flowers and taste treats with me. I'll get Owl to teach you all he knows about treats, as long as you promise never to let business keep you from being my friend."
Hare could sense a note of hurt in Nathaniel's tone, could see the tiny signs of worry as they crept their way onto his warm features.
"You will never have to feel lonely now," Hare said, stifling a yawn. His ears flopped down, falling to the sides of his head in sleepiness. "I never thought I would get to have a friend. I promise you as long as I live, you will be my first priority, and we shall always be friends."
Nathaniel helped to haul the sleepy Pet up, wrapping an arm around him to steady him as they trudged down the stairs and back toward the manor.
"One day, when I have my own place, would you mind making me tea? Your ability to combine those flavors amazed me. I'd love to wake up to that," he said as they followed the forest's winding path.
They were soon at the flower garden, growing ever closer to the large house.
"I would be honored to make tea for you," mumbled Hare as they ascended the large staircase together. He bowed as they parted ways, but Nathaniel just laughed and reached out to set him upright again.
"Get some sleep, and come find me when you wake," said Nathaniel with a gentle, sleepy smile.
Hare donned his nightclothes and climbed under his blankets, immensely thankful for all he had been given that day. Not even two days ago, he had been a beaten prisoner. Now, there was an opportunity for something better. His mind wove the possibilities into a crazy dream as he drifted off. There was a long table piled with plates of sugary pastries, lined with pots of every tea there ever was. And sitting at the head of it, dressed in a splendid hat, was Nathaniel.
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Two of Hearts