Origins: Trixie Hatter

A clock-maker by profession, Richard Hatter was the sort of person who was often so ensconced in his own work that he’d begin a project and look up to find that two days had gone by. He was also the sort to be distracted easily and thus have at least a half dozen projects in various states of being worked on at any given time. About once every other month, Richard would suddenly feel the urge to leave his workshop and temporarily abandon his clocks to go out and wander the countryside. He could be gone for days or even weeks at a time, and half the time came back with the dazed sort of look in his eyes that said he’d been led astray by the Fey and just barely gotten away with himself intact. A lot of those who were marginally acquainted with the man would argue that he probably lost a little more of his sanity, but their opinions were neither here nor there, and Richard never paid them any mind. A customer came into the shop one day, requesting a pocket watch of the finest quality and that would bear a design that had never been seen before. He needed it by the end of the month, but would pay a handsome fee if the job was done to his liking. Richard accepted the challenge readily and set to work on this newest project straight away. The mechanics of the clock were child's play, if a little more innovative than his previous clocks, and he had its inner workings ready to be set in a casing within a few days. But what to do about the casing itself? Richard’s usual designs were creative, no doubt, but they all had similar elements to each other. A person always knew the work of Richard Hatter when they saw it, even if they weren’t familiar with the piece. To create something truly unique was the first real challenge to the man’s talents that he’d experienced in a very long time. Perhaps it was time for another excursion. He still had three weeks to finish the piece, he had time. With a bag stuffed with gear on his back and his favourite walking stick in hand, he set off into the wilderness. The woods that bordered the city were absolutely filled with Fey. They lurked in every shadow and under every root. Richard was familiar with this, and most of their tricks. He stayed on the path lest it be swept away from him when he wasn’t looking. Time was not something he could afford to waste on this trip. It was never the Fey that gave him any real trouble, though, despite the fact that he was easy faebait at the best of times. A bit of iron around the neck and a pocketful of salt was usually enough to keep Them from causing him any harm so long as he didn’t go looking for Them. He knew how to deal with the Fey. It was the Others that confounded him. On his journey he came across a small lake that fed into the brackish river that led to the ocean not all that far away. It had been a long hike, and Richard opted to dip his feet in the water for a little bit. The warm sun and the cool water made him dazey. A little nap couldn’t hurt. They Fey couldn’t stand the salt, so he must be safe here. That was when She appeared. Ethereal was the popular word to use for creatures like her. An ever shifting form that did not know stillness as water seemed to perpetually run down her body like a waterfall. Eyes as deep as a bottomless pool. Every detail was so fine yet simple. A nymph; the lesser water spirit. Richard awoke to see her watching him, just out of reach. The moment he moved, she slipped further away and down into the water like a frightened minnow. But she did not vanish. Richard found himself talking to the mysterious aqua woman, hands gesturing ever more emphatically as he told her stories of his adventures in the forest and growing up in his father’s hat shop. And she listened. She eased out of the water bit by bit, fascinated by the strange human’s tales. Humans did not come to her lake often. She loved to hear what new wonders they had created in the interim. Nymphs are a dangerous creature to stare into, however. Their eyes draw a person in like a void and it can be days before one escapes their clutches, if they’re lucky. Richard Hatter, however, was special. Becoming lost in something was the normal state of things for him. The final evening calls of a blackbird pulled him out of his reverie, and he bid the nymph adieu and ran off back to his home before she had a chance to call him back. Richard returned to his workshop with new inspiration. He completed the commission in record time and his work was applauded amongst high society. Requests for watches with the same watery details as the first came pouring in, and Richard did his best to fulfill them. Business waned, though, as often happened when the Winter months began to creep in and the upper classes turned their attentions to other matters. Things returned to normal and Richard proceeded with his signature work once again. Springtime brought new commissions for new watches, and Richard suddenly found himself unable to create the uniqueness that his watches had held. Perhaps another visit to that lake was due. The nymph had seemed to enjoy his company. Trips to the lake became more and more frequent. It was a long journey, but the excited look she gave him whenever she saw him coming through the trees made everything worth it. She never spoke, but he could somehow understand her wordless responses to the things he said and did. She could not be blamed for what happened one Spring day. She was only acting on instinct. He waded into the water a bit too far and lost his footing, so she rushed up to catch him, pulling him into the water instead. The more she tried to help him up, the more she wound up dragging him down. When they finally broke free of each other and Richard was able to reach the surface again, she hid at the bottom of her lake in shame. It was a wonder he came back after that. She thought so anyway. It was a good thing, though, because when he returned, she handed him a tiny baby girl with wispy blue hair and eyes the colour of the sun reflected off the water. She worried how he would react, that he might reject the child. It was with joy and relief that she watched his face light up at the sight of his daughter.