I do not own Syfy's Alice.

I do not own Hatter. Shame.

Tales of the White Knight

Chapter 1: Wherein I Meet Just Alice (and her Vassal)

I strode through Forest of Wabe, on the hunt for the elusive and mighty Jabberwock. Many a time had I hunted this creature and today! Today I would obtain my prize!

I perceived the Jabberwock's bellow from a distance away and felt the ground shake with his ire. Skillfully silent in my fine mail armor, I snuck my tall, lanky frame through the wood. Coming upon the Jabberwock from behind, I beheld with dismay the great beast rear its mighty head back and roar again in distress, stomping away from my clever contraption.

No! The plan was foolproof! It couldn't possibly have failed! (Again.) There must have been an unexpected occurrence!

I approached the location with righteous anger burning in me and beheld . . .

"Vermin! Saboteurs! Anarchists!"

How dare they? To have so willfully overthrown my brilliant plan! The Jabberwock remained free! Again!

"I was this close to catching him!"

Well, maybe not quite. Bit more space between the hands then.

"This close!"

"Degenerate bag-heads!"

Oh, I was in quite a terrific fury.

Who did these people, for they were indeed people, think they were? A young dark-haired maiden in a blue dress and purple coat and a young suspicious-looking fellow with dark, shifty eyes.

I continued my righteous verbal assault as they escaped my apparatus and stood before me, very nearly trembling in fear at my justified tirade.

"Subverters! Pig-pushing flecks!"

Okay, that one was unintelligible.

I searched my sophisticated vernacular for the most offensive comment I could muster, my hands clenched in frustration.

"Bug bashers!"

There! That should do them properly!

The maiden appeared flustered, and of course, why shouldn't she be? Deterring what would obviously have been a glorious victory in the face of the elusive Jabberwock. She had every right to be flustered; served her right.

The young chap with her was surely of little importance to me. He was clearly a vassal of some sort and therefore did not warrant my attention.

The maiden recovered her wits somewhat and spoke. Using such low and base dialect to inquire as to my identity concerned me of course, but I graciously forgave her falter and moved forward.

"I am a knight," I declared dramatically.

I approached them with all grace and dignity before landing myself in a hole with an unceremonious clank of armor. I now appeared shorter than they and had lost some of my bluster and nobility.

Blast.

Recover, Charlie. And speak, Brave Knight!

"The White Knight to be precise. Sir Charles Eustace Fotheringhay Le Malfoy III."

I spoke my illustrious title with such gallantry that I drew a deep, proud breath at the end just to take an extra moment to savor the deliciousness of it.

Ah, I was quite aware of my striking presence, even right down to my neatly curled moustache and beard. Took hours to curl it properly, I must say.

They were visibly speechless and stunned. No doubt in awe to be in the presence of one as distinguished as I.

And now, for some decorum on their part.

"Who are you?"

I eyed them closely so that no falsehood may escape their lips.

The maiden spoke first.

"I'm . . ."

She seemed hesitant, but why?

". . . Alice," she finished.

"Alice?" I peered closely at her. "The Alice?"

It couldn't be. I repeated it again, looking closely in her blue eyes for a deception. Surely not.

"No," she answered, clearly uncomfortably with our proximity.

Must be my natural musk, the exotic allure of an adventurer. I must needs be wary of that in the future so as not to make her discomfited. 'Tis only befitting knightly behavior.

"Just . . . Alice," she concluded, quite unsure of herself in the presence of such a proud and noble man.

"Just Alice." This warranted great consideration. "Ehh."

I turned away muse this over, perhaps even consult the Oracle. Just Alice's vassal, whom I had up to this moment completely ignored, chose this inopportune moment to speak.

"I thought you guys were all wiped out years ago."

Impertinent child with his messy hair and common tongue! How dare he interrupt my musings?

I dealt with him directly, laying him low with barely a glance.

"Well, you thought wrong! As you can see, I am as fit as a butcher's dog."

I smiled confidently, slapped my sides in illustration, and barely stifled a cough.

Blast twice.

Just Alice, bless her innocent soul, posed a most unthinkable question.

"Are there any others like you?"

I smiled kindly while turning away from her folly.

"Certainly not. I'm a one-off! My Nan used to say that if I were the only eligible bachelor left in the world . . ."

I leaned over to retrieve the Royal Shovel, having yet to master the ancient knightly art of telekinesis.

". . . there wasn't a warthog or wallflower who'd polish my escutcheon."

I laughed grandly at the memory.

Ah, my dear Nan, what a sweet woman. Fine with pies, quick with a joke, and wielded quite an arm when swinging her broom at my head.

Just Alice did not respond favorably to my humorous account. How very unfortunate that she possessed no sense of humor.

"No, I meant are there any other knights in these woods? Your . . ."

She appeared to hesitate.

Clearly, she did not possess a gift for words and language as did I. More's the pity.

". . . comrades in arms," she concluded.

I huffed in amusement.

"Heavens, no. Are you mad? We were all wiped out years ago."

Ah, then again, perhaps she did have a touch of the comic. Jolly good!

The vassal spoke up again. Him with his jaunty hat and that silly shirt.

"You dug that pit on your own?"

His doubting words cut me to my very core. Just because he was a young rascal he thought of me as infirm.

The insolence! The disrespect! What an upstart little brute!

Dropping the Royal Shovel, I advanced upon him in a righteous anger.

"You think I'm too old! Well, let me tell you something, Nug-Face! Youth is vastly overrated!"

There I'd said it! I could take him any day! Him with his pinstriped purple pants and his shiny finger rings! Thought he could insult me because of my white beard and achy joints!

"I may have put on a few years, but I'm crafty!"

As I advanced, the aforementioned Nug-Face backed up in alarm. As by rights he should be alarmed! Did he not know who he was in the presence of?! The White Knight!

Just Alice moved back with him.

Ah, poor, sweet child.

Ready to defend him in a moment's notice. How misguided she was.

"I have a very inventive and calculating mind, stacked high with groundbreaking, state-of-the-art ideas! I invent all sorts of things!"

Ah, yes! These uneducated children had not yet bore witness to some of the more genius of my inventions. I daresay I felt a touch of sudden glee. Other humans with which to share my wonderful ideas!

"The Beehive Mousetrap, for instance!"

How delightful! Certainly a treat for them as well as myself. It had been quite some time since . . . well, anyway . . .

"This here 'pit' as you so rudely call it," I turned again toward the fruit of my many days of labor and then back to them, rampant in my discourse. ". . . is my third attempt at the Gravity Assisted Snare Mark IV!"

Ah, yes. Such a noble title for such a brilliant invention. I stood tall with pride, certain they would awe once again at my accomplishments.

I turned away from them yet again, desirous to commune with the forest and all the creatures in it. Holding out my hands to feel the spirits and, perchance, commune with the Oracle . . .

". . . have you survived?"

Thetan's Ghost! The vassal again?

"Hmm?"

Well, the lost boy was indeed in need of a properly wise person of the forest to guide him, was he not? I suppose I could enlighten him in regards to the, um, er . . .

"Oh, yes. I'm a Knight." There that explained it. "And an inventor, as I've said."

Lest he forget.

Interested in reading more? Please let me know so that muse stays . . . well, museful. ;)

Thanks to Nocturnal Elle for your support and review! You're fantastic!