Chapter Text
She’s thirteen now, becoming a woman. She knows all about what this means besides philosophically. Her mother had gone into great lengths explaining the changes that would happen in her body. At first it had felt like being dumped into a pool of Lava. But her Mom was anything but passionate. She had made it clear that nothing was to be embarrassed about. That her womanhood was something to be proud of. To celebrate. That the Hearts clan ran on a long line of passionate and strong matriarchs. That they gave and brought life to the world. Physically and spiritually
Bridget like the strong and passionate parts. Not so much the giving live part. Personally, she knew woman gave birth, but it never interested her. Kids were a wonderful thought for the future. But actually having them? It wasn’t her thing. But her mom wasn’t necessarily harping down on that aspect either. So it wasn’t something she spent much effort towards.
She did have to admit that suddenly seeing blood in her underwear one morning frightened her. She felt silly just a couple minutes after. Her Mom had gone above and beyond in preparing her. This was already to be expected.
She even knew what to do. What all the feminine products were and how to do it. It didn’t take long to figure out. And she had told her mom at dinner.
She’d been elated when her mother cheered. Even stating they should throw a party to celebrate.
While not embarrassed about the topic, Bridget had been a little flustered at the idea of all that attention. So she politely declined. But it was nice to see such an outward reaction. Her mother was a busy person. And as Bridget got older she had spent less time with her unless it was for lessons or breakfast/dinner. So it was nice to know she cared.
Anywho. Her period was just one of the signs she was growing up, at least to her mom. Eleusis had started talking to her about different things. Allowing her to witness more Queenly duties. Even starting things with ‘now that your older’
This was what she’d truly been proud of. Bridget had been starting to feel like nothing she could do to please her. She’d felt almost worthless. Her recent failure to arrive at breakfast on time was humiliating at best. She knew mother took their daily breakfast and dinner together very seriously. She only had herself to blame when Eleusis threw her plate down in anger. She flexed her fingers almost unconsciously. Still stinging a few days later after she had to clean up the pieces. Shards of porcelain cutting into her skin
But Bridget would bare it. It was only rightfully so. Consequences had actions. Her irresponsible actions. She was growing up. Couldn’t be stupid enough as to oversleep.
But things were changing. Her mother had summoned her for dinner, claiming it was of even higher importance than usual. Bridget knew she took their meals seriously, but this could only mean she had something very special to tell her.
Her mind wondered, Brain excitedly coming up with all the things she might be announcing. She knew she was being handed more queenly duties, maybe this was a new one? One with more power than normal.
Her palm patted the side of her dress, the comforting weight of her deck of cards was grounding. Something she could channel her excess energy through. Even if she couldn’t exactly shuffle them right now with her injured hands. It wouldn’t take too long though. She was grateful her mother hadn’t taken them away as further punishment for her misdeeds. Eleusis had only done that once or twice before. When she had truly messed up. Wanting her to understand the gravity of the situation.
Either way, she practically skipped to the dining hall, eagerly smiling at her mother, radiant as always.
“Hello my Flower,” Eleusis smiled, “How was your day love? Do your hands still hurt?”
Bridget bounced on the back of her heels, “Hi Mum!! My day was good, thank you for asking. My hands are fine! Only sting a little bit.”
“Well that’s good, the bandages should keep anything from going Keloid. At most you’ll have very faint scarring. Which is something we can easily magic away when you’re older.”
Bridget took her seat, doing everything she could not to address the elephant in the room. She was 13 now and such impatience would be deemed childish.
Her Mother smirked, clearly seeing through her, “I can imagine your in quite anticipation.”
“Oh really? What for?” She feigned nonchalance, giggling afterwards. Letting her mom in on the humor.
“Well if you don’t know I suppose it can way another day.” Eleusis fake dismissed. Not able to hold back her amused smiled as Bridget’s jaw dropped.
“No! No- I mean. Please Mother, I’d love to know the importance of today.”
“Alright then, since you’ve asked so nicely,” firstly the Queen waved over the guards. Having them bring their entrees to them, “I’ve decided on which Secondary school you will be attending.”
You might as well have just told Bridget she won the lottery. She jumped to her feet, hands a flurry of claps despite the pain. To elated to even care, “Oh really! Mother you truly mean that?!”
Bridget had been homeschooled her whole life. Always taught by her mother or numerously arranged professors. It allowed her mother to keep a close eye on her studies. Make sure she was proceeding correctly. But it was terribly isolating. Bridget longed to go to school with other kids her age. Make friends. Have those moments she only knew about from books.
Her Mom seemed to understand her want for people, but reasoned with her that other kids didn’t have the duties she had. They had the privilege to be able to throw their education away if they wanted. Bridget didn’t have that. She had called her lucky. Saying that it was not fortunate to have the opportunity to ruin your life. Bridget could somewhat get what she was trying to say. It still didn’t rid her of her desperation for friend, companionship.
Her mother smiled, gesturing with her hand softly for her to sit back down, “Yes love. I have. I know you’ve been wanting to meet kids your age and I do believe socializing is a good skill to have as our future queen. You need to learn how to talk and interact with people outside of the palace. Learn how to make alliances, although right now they’re more appropriately called friendships.”
Bridget could hardly contain her excitement, felt her mind imploding in on itself, “Where am I heading too?”
“I’ve decided on Merlin Academy, darling.”
“Merlin Academy? But… I’ve been over every school in wonderland, I’ve never heard of that,” she bit her lip in confusion, brows shooting up at the realization, “Wait! Mother, you don’t mean? Outside Wonderland?!”
“Yes my Flower, I know it might sound a bit distressing. But there is more to this world then wonderland itself. And it’s only proper for an up and coming queen to get to know their neighboring lands. To see the other kingdoms and learn societal norms. I do believe this will be good for you Bridget.” Eleusis offered sagely, tone gentle in preparation for any fear Bridget might have.
Bridget herself was nearly overwhelmed with emotions, so visibly elated over the idea of finally going to a public school, but there was an underlying layer of doubt. A subtle fear of traveling so far, to a place she’d never gone before. Wonderland was all she knew. All she’s ever experienced. What if she left and things were too… different.
“When would I-I be leaving Mmother?” She asked, voice much softer now.
The queens smile dimmed, her forhead crinkling, “Well… it depends. How have your lessons gone?”
“M-My lessons?” Bridget was a bit puzzled, understandably, “I’m doing quite well mother. H-high Mmarks in all my subjects.”
“No Bridget, your speech lessons,” Eleusis frowned, “How have those been going?”
Bridget nearly flinched, hands gripping the edge of the table, suddenly interested in the food on her plate, “Um, Well, they’ve been going, well. The Dr. approves of the repeated attendance.”
This doesn’t please her mother, who notices what Bridget’s doing, intentionally or not, “Look at me Bridget. Queens don’t bow in the presence of others.”
She forces her gaze upwards. Willing herself not to shake under her mother’s intimidating stare, “Okay.”
“I feel it is not unreasonable for me to require the representation of wonderful to speak clearly, no? Respond now.”
It took Bridget a second, faltering as she struggled to think of words that didn’t start with any of her trigger letters, “That’s not unreasonable at all. Understandable even.”
Her mother nodded, “Then you’ll understand why it’s important you give a speech tomorrow.”
“A speech? But M-Mother I-I’m not good at those-“
-“Which is exactly why I need to hear you do it,” she pushed on, eyes narrowing, “If you can’t get through one speech without letting the negativity muck up your elocution, then I see no reason why I should send you to Merlin academy. I can’t have you making a fool out of wonderland Bridget. And imagine how bad it would be if they realized my only heir had such an impediment, such negativity? It would make us vulnerable to reproach.”
Bridget felt like she was being split in half. On one hand held everything she could ever dream of. Leaving the palace. Getting to go to school. Making friends. And on the other hand was the only thing she had to do to obtain it. Except the task was currently impossible for her.
“But M-Mum I-“
“Do I need to reconsider?” Eleusis’s flawless brow arching, “I’m happy to relocate you to another school inside wonderland, or even teach you for another few years myself.”
-“No!” Bridget jolted, hands flying out in horror, “No, um. The speech, um. That would be okay.”
She remained frozen, waiting for her mom to call her out, to critique something entirely new. But Mercifully, her mother relinquished, her hunger outweighing the urge to scold her further.
“Well, now that’s settled, tell me my flower, anything interesting happening in your lessons recently?”
Bridget gripped her utensils tightly, forcing her tense body to move, cut pieces of food she wasn’t looking at, and chewing bites she wasn’t tasting, “No. not recently.”
Eleusis might have moved on, but Bridget remained terrified for the remaining dinner. All the way till she lay in bed that night. Eyes wide with fearful anticipation. For she knew she could not give a speech without stuttering. At least; not as long as her current wave persisted
But she needed too. Or else she wouldn’t be able to go Merlin academy. Wouldn’t be able to go to school at all!
She needed a plan. Needed a guaranteed way of making sure her stupid tongue wouldn’t hurt her tomorrow.
It was dangerous, the risk of her mother finding out made her gasp for air. Fingers trembling as she pressed them palm down against her chest. Scrunching her eyes shut and trying to calm her mind. To remind herself that she hadn’t done anything yet. That if she managed to do what she was thinking, everything she could ever want lay right behind.
She would need to talk to Maddox.
…
Maddox hatter was four years younger than her. But despite that they had remained close growing up. His mind wiser beyond his years, helping to bridge the gap between them. No pun intended. It was common knowledge that his father was proficient in the mad and whimsy. As well as any and all sorts of clocks, metalwork, millinery, and woodworking.
However it was the whimsy part Bridget needed at the moment. The two Hatters tended to provide potions and ailments for any problems related to the mind. This was more on the down low. As her mother tended to look down on things like these. Believing them only to be a crutch instead of the actual solution.
Bridget knew so far there was no solution for her impediment, so she might as well take a crutch. Cards, she’d take a knee brace at this point. Anything to keep up the appearance of perfection for one night.
It didn’t take long to find Maddox. He was either in his father’s study taking lessons, showing off his father’s latest work in the streets of the village, or tinkering in the much smaller room the Mad Hatter had manage to secure for him. Endorsing and supporting his passion for invention.
Bridget found his inventions to be quite spectacular. And hoped he kept on with it throughout life. For a birthday gift last year he had made her a contraption that would display all her outfits in her closet, spinning in a circle for easy access and distribution.
Today, she found him in his small lab, not surprisingly working on some machinery.
“Maddox!” She crowed with a sense of urgency, one that went right over his head, “I need you.”
“Why Hello your majesty!” He echoed back with a tooth gapped grin, bowing dramatically, and swiping a hand over the cartilage of his right ear, once, twice, three times.
He was always odd like that. Little mannerisms and patterns that she could not quite decipher. But she knew Maddox couldn’t stop them. She had asked once. And he had mentioned that it came and went as simple as breathing. And to not do them was like withholding oxygen from your very lungs. Uncomfortable and ill timed.
Bridget close the distance, pressing a hand to his shoulder, “Maddox please, where is your father?”
“Bridget?” He asked, brows furrowing, finally realizing she wasn’t her usual joyful self, “What’s wrong? Did something break?”
She blushed, looking down at trembling hands, “No- I-I. I need h-help. Ahem. I need help. Your Fathers help specifically, with um, something whimsy. And…. This needs to stay between us…. Please.”
Maddox nodded, “Follow me, Miss.”
It was a relief. A similar feeling splashing upon her, that he appeared inclined to keep her secret. It was almost like exhaustion. Something bone deep. But she had never been filled with such energy. So much adrenaline it made her jittery. Hands shaking violently and eyes bouncing around in their sockets. Bridget’s jaw hurt from how tight she was clenching it, as she followed her friend too the Mad Hatters workshop. Which housed a man withered with age, but young with liveliness.
The Hatter line was a bit ambiguous with age. They had somewhat of an omnipresent power. Similar to the Cheshire Cat. It seemed to dim through each generation. Bridget could at least name the age of her friend. But the Mad Hatters himself could have been between 30 and 80 for all she knew. He had looked exactly the same for as long as she knew him. But his body was spry. And the twinkle in his eyes never leaving.
He had certainly been around long enough to understand the mind. And how it could go crazy with the simplest of pressures.
When Maddox had brought her to him. She had initially been too embarrassed to explain. Spluttering out barely formed words and nearly bursting into tears.
But instead of shaming her, like her mother so often did, Maddox had took her hand. And gently guided her to the nearby couch. Looking at her with such simple patience, such willingness to understand, that she became overwhelmed by it. Letting out a few tears just because.
The elder Hatter had seemed to understand as well, oddly calm for his normal disposition. Mentioning that he’d brew some tea and be right back. Advising her to relax and take a moment to collect her thoughts.
She’d thanked him as best as she could. Gripping Maddox’s hand tightly and willing her tears to disappear. For her tongue to relax. For her mind to bloody calm down already and understand that she was being silly over nothing.
Maddox faithfully sat beside her. All angles with baby fat clinging to his cheeks. Every so often he’d tell her it was okay. That he was here and that the sky was purple.
She understood his statements, his intentions. And oddly enough the words did have a soothing effect on her. Allowing the pressure in her chest to release. Her thoughts clearing up for the first time since last night.
The Mad Hatter returned a few minutes later. Three warm cups of tea in his broad knuckled hands.
“Whatever seems to be the hatter, youngblood?” He chimed softly, winking to imply his joke.
It did get a giggle out of her, form relaxing even more in the presence of someone so non judgmental, “Thank you… Mr. Hatter. It’s um. A complicated thing.”
“Maddox said you needed help with something whimsy?” His bushy brow twitched in place, lip curling in matching tempo, “And that this shall remain between us?”
Bridget squeaked, cheeks turning red, “I-I mean. Only if you’re willing. I wouldn’t want to put you at any risk or morally tampering.”
“Would it hurt anyone? Is this a matter beyond Maddox?”
Harming people, and his son. Two very crucial no nos in the man’s book. Something Bridget could very deeply respect; “No sir, nothing like that.”
“Then theirs no need to send yourself down the rabbit hole! Anything you desire we can procure for you, within reason of course. Which we both know I means anything from a rubber sole to an archaic warbling bird!”
His flexibility and lack of seriousness was oddly comforting. Bridget was surprised she could laugh at a time like this.
“I-If you please. I um. I need something whimsy to well, temporally subdue my… my affliction.” She admitted with great shame. Feeling her body fold inwards on its own accord.
Maddox remained puzzled, “Your.. affliction?”
She hated to admit it so blatantly, had been trained not to tell a soul by her Mother, but dire times call for dire circumstances. Consequences have actions. It was only fitting.
“My… my stutter,” Bridget whispered quiet as a doormouse, pressing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, “I need something whimsy to fix it. To fix me. At least for tonight.”
There was a subtle change in the room, both hatters exchanging concerned stares, glancing at her in what she could only assume was pity. Or even judgment. Clocks, why wouldn’t they judge her? Here she was, their future queen, admitting to something as embarrassing as a speech impediment. It was a flaw. A mistake. She was defective. They were about to laugh she was sure of it. They’d laugh. Then kick her out, and she’d have to run to tell her mother before they could use this weakness against her and-
“Why youngblood, here you are speaking to us, without as much as a flutter? I don’t see how you could have such a stutter?”
Although rhyming, the Mad Hatter wasn’t wrong. Bridget had barely fumbled since she’d gotten here.
“Oh,” her blushed increased, she wondered if they suspected her to be lame, or worse, a liar, jolting forward with sudden fearful urgency, “I-I-I’m not lying, I p-promise!”
Her stutter returned tenfold, and upon the Hatters receptive, and then sympathetic faces, she buried her own into her hands. Doing everything she could not to cry and drown in a pool of her own embarrassment.
A moment passed where nothing was said. Then, she felt the weight of something soft wrap around her shoulders. Paired with a hand gently placed on her knee.
When she peeked an eye open, Maddox was cracking a small grin, the Mad Hatter sporting a similar non threatening smile.
“Hey, Bridget, it’s me.” Maddox reminded fondly, “I don’t mind that your stutter. And we weren’t calling you a lair. The only thing worse than a lair is a jabberwocky. And your neither of them.”
“Yes yes, my son is often right as pink rain,” Mr. Hatter agreed, his large cap nodding along with his head, “What, I had meant to imply Youngblood, is that while you may falter, you speak clear as water in the moment. Are you truly sure you want to be fixed? Especially when I see nothing broken.”
It was odd to hear someone say that. Bridget squinted at him, wondering if he had lapsed into a moment of psychosis. For surely, one could look at her with all her flaws, and deem her something not able to be fixed.
Could he be making fun of her? It certainly sounded wrong, and it would so unlike him to jest.
He probably misunderstood her. That could be the only reasonable.
“It’s not voluntary,” Bridget emphasized, “I-it ccomes when I least expect it.”
The man nodded, crossing his arms over his chest, “How…. Madly do you want to get rid of this? You know it’s not advised to meddle in the whimsy. It’s only to use with specific care, where nothing else has worked.”
She shifted forward, raising her head, the anxiety he’d say no making her heart rocket, “Wait- P-please, I c-can’t- I’ll do anything, I just, Mu-Mu… I need to be p-perfect tonight. I need too! I-“
“Calm, Youngblood. No one is requiring anything of you.” Mr. Hatter replied formally, intentionally keeping his words precise and clear, to cut in between all of Bridget’s spiraling thoughts.
Maddox gripped Bridget’s arm enthusiastically, “Yeah! Well help you Bridget! Right dad? We can think of something!”
“Of course Son! If it’s whimsy thy majesty requests, it’s Whimsy she shall receive!”
Bridget launched herself into Maddox’s arms, gripping tight and thanking him rapidly, “Oh Thank you guys! Thank you so much!”
“Of course,” Maddox teased with a smile, bowing mockingly low, “What would it say of our employment status to disappoint the heart-line so.”
“Maddox!” His father chastised, schooling Bridget an apologetic grin.
Bridget giggled right along, “It’s okay Mr. Hatter. It’s simply a joke. I don’t mind at all!”
He stood up straight, fixing his cuff sleeves, “Well that maybe so, but an egg is not a bird, and my Maddox is not a jester. We are all things Mad, not rude. Employment is a formal thing, you never want to toe a line with a wanted digit. So please son, if you don’t desire all ten, tease away. “
Sometimes even Bridget couldn’t understand the Hatters riddlish. She knew the basics, but it wasn’t a common language in her part of wonderland. Maddox and the Mad Hatter were part of a small group who spoke it fluently in her region.
Maddox frowned, and although he seemed bummed, apparently understanding his Fathers meaning, “All right Father. If willows bend in the wind. We can still help her with the whimsy though, right?”
“Why of course!” He made a grand sweep of his arm, “Our minds are theirs to pick! Although, Miss Hearts, I do have an idea in mind. I’d need to know more details though.”
Bridget raised an eyebrow, interest piqued, “Really? What do you have? Can it fix me completely?”
“What you ask for is a permanent change. And since it directly relates to the whimsy, and the motor function controls connecting the brain to your mouth, I don’t feel comfortable giving you anything unchangeable. That’s only saved for the worst conditions, and the harshest requirements. Like for instance, someone cursed to tell nothing but lies. The risk is more flexible there.”
“But…M-Mr. Hatter… I-“
-“I have not yet finished my thought Youngblood,” he waited for her nod, although slightly impish, “I may not give you anything permanent. But I can offer… a bridge of sorts.”
She blinked, “Was… that a joke?”
He shrugged, “Unintentional. But nevertheless, still just as clever! You consume Flamingo Milk, correct?”
“Pardon?”
“Flamingo Milk?” The Hatter proposed, “Also known as Flamingo Root milk. Or Pink Marrow Milk? A pink drink typically drunk in mornings for breakfast along with tea or with biscuits.”
“Oh!” She blushed, suddenly remembering the common household beverage, “Pardon Mr. Hatter. Haven’t heard it called Flamingo milk since I was a child. My Mother calls it Marrow Milk, or on occasion, Pink Marrow Milk. But yes! I do drink it. How did you know?”
The man chuckled, gesturing to her hair, “Well, pardon for my impudence, Your Grace. But I know you are not a naturally pinkette. Your like your mother, hmm? Red as a Ruby?”
To be honest, Bridget sometimes forgot that the Milk changed her hair color. And that she wasn’t naturally with Pink locks. Marrow Milk was wonderful in improving immune systems and bone health. But it’s one side effect being it changes your hair color. As with all Flamingo products. It often wore off quickly. If not a couple hours after consuming the drink.
“That would be correct,” she grinned awkwardly, self consciously twirling her vibrant hair, “I forget it does that. Since I drink it so much.”
The man laughed, “It happens to the best of us darling. Maddox here has dressed for his lavender only forget he’s just had some ‘Go.”
“Father! Please!” Maddox groaned, slapping a hand over his face.
“Only teasing!” He smirked, turning back to address her, the edges dripping down till he turned serious, “Now Youngblood. This next part is important. I am in possession of something that can help. But they’re in no way something to be joked around with. These are volatile substances.”
“I understand…. I promise I’ll use them safely.” Bridget assured.
The Mad hatter paused. As if accepting her answer. Before standing and walking over to a nearby cabinet. Grabbing a mason jar and bringing it back.
It was placed on the table in front of her, and her sense of bewilderment was obvious, “Flamingo feathers?”
“Yes your grace! Straight from the source!” Mr. Hatter claimed, “The palace as you know has its own flamingo grounds. All feathers are taken with 0 animal cruelty.”
She nodded apprehensively, looking at the jar as if it would explode at a moments notice, “What… what do they do?”
“Something you may not know, is that Flamingo feathers are a powerful psychotic. They’re most powerful as a whole. Marrow Milk, as you know it. Is made from parts that contain the least amount of power. It’s why you feel next to no change after drinking it. If anything, it might feel calming in the moment. But it’s a microdose if anything, an extremely low potency. Wonders knows we’d never go about having children drink anything drugged.”
Oh. Bridget hadn’t known that. She frowns. Bothered by this information. The Hatter was speaking about this as if it was common knowledge. Yet the only thing she was aware of was the hair changing attributes. Her Mother hadn’t… drugged her, right?
Mr. Hatter was ever perceptive, crouching down next to her, “The percentage is so low, Youngblood. Small enough that theirs no risk of consumption. It’s one of the strongest drinks in terms of bone health.”
She mutely accepted his answer. Not entirely bothered considering her apprehension was so quick to form.
“Flamingo feathers, while also with the ability to turn things pink, numb the senses. While also tapping into the part of the brain that produces cortisol. Do you understand me Bridget?”
“It makes you happy right?” She guesses hesitantly, “Would that… work for me?”
“It could make the stutter… bearable. It wouldn’t eliminate it completely. But common triggers of speech impediments lay in stress. And you, Youngblood, seem extremely so.”
He pauses again, turning his eyes on her, really staring into her soul. Maddox patiently waiting by her side.
“Bridget, my dear, are you doing okay?”
Bridget freezes. Not expecting the question. Not knowing how to answer.
She plasters on a smile to wide for her teeth, “Of C-course Sir. I’m p-perfectly fine.”
“Are you sure, your grace?” The man takes a seat on the other side of her, gazing at her imploringly, “You came to us in such a rush. Inconsolable almost. I… I fear what caused such an outcome might… still be, ahem, present in your life. And I want to make sure you feel okay. Stable. Some could even offer safe.”
Bridget’s eyes bugged out, blood freezing in her veins, Smile dropping in a heartbeat, “What are you insinuating? I am not insane .”
“ No! No of course not Youngblood, I simply meant that whatever your Mother might have said about your stutter-“
“My Mother?! Keep her out of this! Mummy is a good Mum!” She was officially panicking. Jumping to her feet and looking at the two. Their concerned eyes only propelling her internal turmoil, “My mother loves me!”
This was a bad idea. This was a terrible idea. Now both the hatters were concerned about her. They thought she was crazy . They thought her mother… they were wrong. They were wrong!
“Of course, of course Youngblood.” Mr. Hatter had taken to soothing her, like she was a scared wild animal.
She felt like an animal. She felt like a monster.
“Everything is okay!” She yelped. Eyes locating the Mason Jar on the table and scooping it up without a moments notice, “Thank y-you very kindly M-Mr. Huh-Hatter. But I must take this and go, I-if you please-“
-“Bridget! Wait! ”
Bridget flinched violently, body trembling from the loud sound. Never expecting him to yell at her.
Slowly, she turned around, clutching the jar to her chest. Eyes glossy and wide.
She clearly messed things up. She should be apologizing. Throwing herself at his knees. Begging for forgiveness. She let the stupid negativity overwhelm her again. Come on Bridget! What did Mother always say? Consequences have actions!
She wanted to admit fault, but she was frozen. Couldn’t make herself move. Couldn’t make herself speak.
She tried, forgive her, she tried. But all that came out was choked gasps. Cut of syllables and harsh consonants. Vowels slurring together. She felt like she was loosing her mind. Vaguely felt the warmth of saliva pooling, the familiar tackiness as it dribbled out her mouth making her cringe.
The Mad Hatter looked admonished. Honestly horrified if she took a second look. Face paling as he swiped off his hat and held it to his chest, “Y-Youngblood, I’m- I’m so sorry! I never meant… I didn’t mean too-“
“He didn’t mean to yell,” Maddox answered softly, a gently voice to calm the soul, walking over with a pulled out handkerchief and dabbing at the corners of her mouth as if it was nothing out of the ordinary, “Everything’s okay. You see? It’s just me. The sky is purple. The Roses are Red. The Sun follows the Moon.”
She drank in his words, letting her mouth close and allowing her throat to relax once again. She was okay. She wasn’t in any danger. There was no need to wage a war on rosebuds that have yet to bloom.
When her vision finally unblurred, The Mad Hatter was looking off to the side. Brow pinched in forethought. She felt Maddox once again, lower on her chin, and instantly flushed with embarrassment.
Managing a small smile, she self consciously pushed his arm away, ‘Thank you I-I’m good.”
Maddox nodded once again. Pocketing the handkerchief and coughing once,twice, three times.
Bridget quickly wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, face flaming as she refuses to make eyes contact with anyone.
“What I meant to say Bridget, is that Flamingo feathers are powerful. Much more powerful than simple milk. One feather. A splash of pink. And negative feelings are typically numbed a tad. But they dramatically ramp up if you take more than one a day. Not only does it send you manically mad, but theirs… extremely aggressive transformative properties.”
Bridget blinked, “Oh… and by Transformative…”
“Let’s just say your hair won’t be the only thing turning pink. And if you think a stutter is hard, I imagine a beak would be… inconceivable.”
“Oh,” she shuddered at the image, warning clearly heard, “That’s not good.”
“Indeed Youngblood, indeed,” The man finally allowed himself to relax a little bit. Placing his hat back on his head.
“So I just take one?”
He nodded politely, “One and done, as they say. Goes down smooth. And tastes quite delightful.”
She stared at the jar like it was her whole world, “Wh-why doesn’t everyone take these?”
Maddox shifted uncomfortably, his father mirroring, “Bridget… these aren’t as wonderful as you think they are.”
Bridget stared at him, wondering if he’d truly gone mad now, “M-Maddox these could c-cure me?!”
“No,” Mr. Hatter interrupted softly, squinting his eyes in a way that looked undeniably wise, “These are not a cure all, Youngblood. But a stimulant. A temporary solution. One that is not all encompassing. Nor permanent. These are one of the most powerful whimsy forces. But eventually, even flamingos loose their feathers. Nothing lasts forever. These can help you. Yes. But please, if theirs ways to manage this without them, I implore you to-“
“But my stutter,” she cuts off, needing confirmation, “This will h-help it go away? At least for tonight?”
Mr. Hatter hesitated. Almost as if he knew his next answer would mark a long and dark battle within on vulnerable teenager, “Yes…. it might not cure it. But it should make it possible for you to get through the day without as many… stumbles.”
That was all the confirmation Bridget needed. Her jaw cracking from how big her genuine smile was. Launching to her feet and wrapping the two of them in fiercely tight hugs. Thanking them profusely.
If she wasn’t so jubilant. She might have noticed the worried glances the two shot each other over her shoulder.
“Bridget, Maybe I-“
“Thank you again Mr. Hatter! You’ve helped me so much!” She cheers, skipping out of the room. Feeling light as air.
This was it! She was gonna do it! All she had to do was take a feather and her stupid little throat wouldn’t screw up her speech! Her mother would deem her ready for more responsibility, and ergo, more independence. And allow her to go to the school of her dreams!
For once. Things all seemed to be turning out okay!
….
The feather tasted like dusty rose. When she tried one before dinner. It was dry on her tongue, but slid down her throat. She wasn’t sure she liked the consistency but it certainly tasted nice.
As expected her hair changed to a vibrant pink. Giggling in the mirror. It was both normal and a bit odd. Her locks never changed unless it was from Marrow Milk. But clearly there was other options.
The numbness that followed was a little off setting. It started in her chest. A cold persistent that spread to her lungs. Up her spine. Cracking into her esophagus, relaxing the tongue, spiking into her nasal passages, and striking like needles into her very eyes. It was an experience for sure. She felt… more neutral about things. Everything she was previously worried about faded away. Shifting to the back of her head. Not necessarily forgetting. It didn’t erase her memory. But it allowed those worries to become blurred. Like trying to read them through dirty glass.
Originally. The loss of negative feelings scared her. It was jarring to feel anxious one moment. And nothing the next. But then a surge of joy punched its way forward. Coloring her cheeks and making her laugh.
Bridget felt good . Better than she’d felt in a while. No longer did she think about her mother’s words. Or the pressures of being an heir. She simply just existed. And existed to bring joy. Existed to feel the endless train of dopamine.
Clearly Maddox and his Father didn’t know what they were talking about. Things might come to an end, but these were a prime example of a renewable resource! No one would be hurt to retrieve them. And there would always be more as more flamingos are born!
…
When Bridget spoke that night, he words came out clear, with barely a hitch in her syllables.
Her mother had smiled wide at her, beckoned her close and wrapped her in a fiercely loving hug, “Oh my flower. My sweet girl. I knew you had it in you. You see? Once you get rid of those nasty little emotions you have the whole world at your hands! I’m so glad Dr. Teethers been of help to you.”
A small part of Bridget felt guilty for misleading her mother. For not actually being the sweet girl her mother was hoping for. But she replaced it with the yearning hope that once she was at Merlin academy, she’d be able to truly fix herself for good.
Except… that would of course require…
“Mmother?” She asked hesitantly, just barely masking the drag of the M, “Does this mean… does this mean I can go?”
“To Merlin Academy? Well, I do believe you’ve proved yourself capable of more responsibilities! And a future Queen needs to be well rounded. As long as you keep up with Dr. Teether, and receive good marks. I don’t see why not.”
Bridget jumped for joy, pressing a kiss to her mother’s cheek and squealing with excitement, “Oh thank you mother! Thank you!”
“Of course my flower, you earned it,” Eleusis smiled, “Now, technically we wouldn’t have to embark till a month from now, but I’m sure you’ll want some time beforehand to pack and-“
-“Oh Clocks! Yes! You’re so right! I’ll go right now! Can’t forget anything!” Bridget realized with that good type of worry, one that makes you jubilant with every breath, “Oh! Gonna go find the perfect outfits!”
She squealed once again, forgetting about the rest of dinner and running off to her bedroom.
“Bridget!” Her mother called out, right as she reached the door.
Her frame halted, turning around leisurely, an ear pointedly angled her Moms way, “Yes Mother?”
“I know you’re excited dear. But you mustn’t forget where you come from. What do we always say?”
She felt her soul wither slightly. Her lips creasing downwards, “B-But that’s only for when… I’m bad. When the feelings come back.”
Eleusis raised an eyebrow imploringly, “Yes my dear. But how will I know if the feelings come if you’re far away? I need to trust you’ll hold yourself accountable. Now tell me love. What do we say?”
Bridget bit her lip, staring down at the floor. Arms coming to cross her chest protectively, “Mum… are you..”
“If you can’t say it I’ll assume you haven’t made as much progress as I thought. Might need a few more years to really insert you with wonderlandian morals.”
“No I-I can do it,” Bridget cleared her throat, ignoring her vision tunneling in, “I can do it Mother. C-consequences have actions. And we need to follow these actions. Theirs no one without the other.”
Her mother’s eyes narrowed. But she nodded approvingly, allowing her smile to creep around the corners, “Well done my love. I trust you’ll make wonderland proud.”
“Thank you Mother. I’ll make you proud.” she promised. Waving her off, keeping her face aloft and present until she was safely alone in her room.
Looking at the mirror, she felt a disconnect between herself and her expression. Her smile remained. But she let it drop. Watching for a few moments and waiting for someone sort of reaction. Some sort of feeling.
She didn’t. She didn’t feel anything . Instead of the swirling thoughts she knew were welling, almost as if it were a physical effect, she felt numb.
Hands tingling. She poked her index fingers into the corners of her mouth, pulling them up to form a misshapen smile. It looked hollow. But when she let go it stayed. It looked no different. It felt as plastic as it felt. She let it go again without any struggle. Watching her face return to neutral like silly putty.
“Hi! I’m Bridget! Happy to meet you.” She tried to introduce.
It didn’t work. She didn’t feel good. Didn’t feel truthful. It was like she was lying? She couldn’t look bad. Couldn’t embarrass her mother.
She willed her heart to beat faster. To make her earlier demeanor return. Her fists clenched, and with a grunt she plastered on that damned smile once again, refusing to let it fall till she believed it.
“Hi. I’m Bridget! Bridget of Wonderland. I’m so happy to meet you!”