Arthur surveys the lavishly filled table, laden with sandwiches, shortcakes, and many mismatched teapots.

"Have some tea," Ariadne offers from the head of the table, holding out a teacup with rain falling from a cumulus cloud and a schooner knocked around by waves of pu-erh tea.

"Through the Looking Glass seems more your style," he comments, but takes a seat next to her, and watches her grin when he gently clinks a less stormy cup of Dragon Well tea against hers.