Fluffy Bunny Tea Party
They were behind his sister's downfall. Now he's out for his revenge.
Dorian’s spoon swirled around and around as he let the inane chatter of the others drift over him. Rabbits they were, or bunnies as the banner above him proudly declared.
A fixed smile graced his own fluffy face as he pretended to listen. He selected a finger sandwich at random to politely nibble upon. His mind wasn’t even on the fair however, instead it was drifting back a year.
“Come on, it’s a tea party! What could go wrong?” his sister had insisted. There would be people there, so of course there was plenty that could go wrong.
He had stared into Hattie’s velvety brown eyes, framed by soft gray fur. Her husband had of course found some excuse not to go, for that at least Dorian couldn’t blame him. Dorian himself hadn’t wanted to go either.
The second her nose started twitching irritably, and her teeth started softly grinding, he gave in. He always did. Hattie was his baby sister after all.
A soft voice at his elbow, almost a whisper, interrupted his thoughts, “Thank you so much for coming. The Fluffy Bunny foundation just isn’t the same anymore.”
He gave the chipmunk server the barest hint of a nod, not daring to acknowledge him more than that.
As their tea was refreshed, and the snacks replaced, his thoughts turned back once more.
It really had been fine at first, his sister had the prettiest and flooffiest dress. She’d almost looked like a butterfly in lagomorph form as she flittered about from table to table. Hattie even got him to have a bit of fun as she introduced him to this person, or that one. To her best friend, and her worst enemy, all the while dishing juicy gossip between tables. All of which hadn’t mattered in the end.
“Does this tea taste funny to you?” the rabbit to his right softly asked, jolting him out of his reverie.
“No,” he glibly lied, “perhaps you’re coming down with something.”
“Huh, maybe,” she muttered in confusion.
He’d already stopped paying attention, readily dwelling upon that which could not be changed.
It hadn’t been until near the end that things went wrong.
The fundraiser display had a slide show that played on repeat. He still wasn’t sure who did it, but that day instead of the charities they had been shilling for, or the local schools that they had helped in the past year…
Hattie with a pretty green snake girl, someone his angelic sister had befriended at the soup kitchen. They were candid shots, of the two of them listening to music together, reading books together, and even shopping and gossiping together.
All had been displayed in a manner to paint a picture that wasn’t true, and even if it were, why should it have mattered? Hattie, after all, had spent much of the event pointing out with a giggle who had been sleeping with whom. Including mentioning with a wink, who exactly was likely to be keeping her husband company.
Hattie had gone still and quiet. The skin of her ears paled as whispers and accusations sprang up.
His own fur had puffed up and his ears rotated backwards, as he prepared to take on each and every one of these vermin that dared to scold his sister.
Oh how he still regretted listening to his sister that once, as she begged him to not make a scene and take her home.
He still didn’t know for sure who’d taken the pictures, but he was sure that they wouldn’t bother anyone after this night. Nor would the rest of these homophobic, xenophobic assholes.
A remark from across the table caught his attention. “It sure is nice not having the stank of snake this year.”
Faking it for all he was worth and feeling like he was dying a little more inside, he laughed along with the others at his table. Although, perhaps, his laughter was a little brittle.
That brittle edge all but evaporated at a soft, nearly suppressed groan of pain from the next table over.
Smiling, he took a sip of his tea. It did taste a little off, they might’ve gone a little overboard. He was sure he’d be fine though. He had after all been getting used to the poison ever since he and his sister’s friends in low places had hatched this plan.
His eyes grew misty, as he pondered on the thing that had driven him to this point.
It hadn’t even been a month after that ill-fated tea party that his sister’s husband murdered her, and then got away with it by claiming it as an honor killing.
The only thing that had prevented him from futilely trying to take down the bastard by himself was Hattie’s friends getting to him first, and whispering of better ways to take him down.
Plots of nightshade from that husband’s own garden, and bribes and letters left in just the right places.
His eyes swept the current tea party. Funny, he didn’t see Hattie’s closest charity buddy here. He already knew his brother-in-law was skipping the party due to “grief”, so he didn’t even look for him.
He hid his malicious smile behind another sip of tea. If she wasn’t here, then his lamenting “brother” was surely with her, which would just make planting the evidence all the easier.
And those that mattered, would also notice the absence.
Allowing the pain to unfurl from his belly, he dropped his cup with a gasp, around the same time that shouts and high pitched death screams were springing up around the room.
Dorian’s vision flickered with white spikes of pain, as he soundlessly slumped against the table. But he wasn’t scared. Even if he died, he was sure that the two that escaped this net, would be snared in the next.
… Besides, Hattie was his baby sister to protect. Any way he could repay that failure, he would.
AN: In addition to my SO who helps with all my work, thanks Anthrodisiac for sparking the idea, and for all their help in stretching it into a full length story and pointing out points of confusion.