So, the much anticipated arguement chapter. It's not so different as you might expect, sorry. I did change it a bit, but I loved Hatter getting angry at Alice, so pretty much all of his yelling at her is still in there. I tried to justify her pigheadedness, though, so I hope you guys like what I did with the scene. The beach and Charlie's tale were my favorite parts of the movie, so its nice to have them both in the same Chapter. Hope you enoy it.

"Alice? Come on, Alice!" Someone was calling her name, some one she really wanted to go to. It was so dark and warm here, so peaceful. If not for that person with the heavenly voice, she'd be perfectly content to stay right where she was. Even if she didn't know where she was.

"Open your eyes!" She wanted to, wonderful voice, but it was so hard. She just couldn't find the strength. Someone kissed her, but whoever it was wasn't very good at it. Or maybe it was because she couldn't kiss back? Whoever was to blame, it was a terrible kiss and made her feel like she was choking, suffocating. Drowning.

"Dammit, Alice, open your eyes and look at me!" The world rushed back in a cold burst of pain in her chest. Alice coughed, water sputtering up out of her mouth, some of which went right up her nose and down the back of her throat, defeating the entire purpose. "Oh, thank you," Hatter breathed in relief as she rolled to her side, spitting out half the lake. He rubbed her back and pulled the wet hair from her face, which was sweet, but did nothing to stop the clawing agony in her chest and throat. Soon, she was coughing up only air, which didn't feel any better, but was undeniably a good thing.

He shifted behind her and pulled her back. It wasn't until he had the girl resting half across his lap that she realized how hard and sharp the gravel shore of the beach was on her bare arms and legs. He fussed over her, brushing back hair that didn't need brushing back, running his fingers over the skin of her face, neck and shoulders. She was finally able to obey his command and open her eyes, looking up at him. It took a moment to focus properly. He looked so different. For one, the man was soaked. His hat was gone and, even wet, his hair ran wild, curling away from his head against the weight of the water. A couple of his long bangs hung almost into his eyes, though not quite. But it was his expression, the look on his face that had her taken aback. So much so, in fact, she had to reach up and touch it.

"Hatter…"

"That's right," he nodded, leaning his face into her touch just a bit. "You had me so scared. I thought I'd lost you for a second there."

She knew that already. She could see it in his eyes. "Sorry," she rasped, throat raw from coughing. He laughed at the absurdity of her apology.

"Not your fault," Hatter assured her. "Just bad luck." He spent a long moment just staring down at her as Alice breathed, trying to will the strength back into her limbs. She flexed her fingers only to find she was still holding onto his hat in a death grip. She lifted it to hand to him, which brought an incredulous smile to his bluish lips. Come to think of it, she was freezing. Along with that realization came the shivers she'd grown to hate so much the previous day. Two dunks in the lake in as many days? She was definitely going to catch a cold.

The man took his hat and set it aside, gazing down at her with a soft expression. "Are you okay?"

She snorted, though that hurt her nose. "No, I'm not okay, you ass."

He laughed again. "Right, stupid question. As much as I'd like to stay like this for the afternoon, it's not safe here. Do you think you can stand?"

She nodded, though she wasn't sure at all, and let him help her sit up. Once upright, she did feel a bit better. He got his feet under him and wrapped her arms around his neck, then stood, taking the majority of her weight on himself. After a tentative few seconds, Alice found her legs to be quite capable of supporting her. Her hands slid down to rest on his forearms, just at the crook of his elbows. Okay, so far so good. She then made the mistake of glancing out at the lake and the reality of what had just happened hit her. The crash could have broken her neck. She had gone under and blacked out and, if not for Hatter, she would have died.

"Whoa!" He caught her again as her knees gave out, pulling her against himself. "It's alright. It's over. I've got you." She leaned against him, wanting to cry but wasn't able. She hurt everywhere and felt so weak and he was so strong, so solid. "You're okay."

But she wasn't okay. She was far from okay. She was cold and hurt and in a world that wasn't her own. She was lost and scared. She was being hunted and shot at and putting her friends into the same deadly situations. She had been betrayed by the man she thought she could love. No, Mr. Hatter, Alice Hamilton was a damn sight away from okay.

She pulled away from him and at first he didn't let her go. "What's wrong?"

"You said we aren't safe," she responded. It wasn't a lie, it was what he said.

"Alice-"

"Oh God," she gasped, just remembering - and she was going straight to Hell for taking that long. "Charlie." Hatter released her then and she turned, looking up and down the rocky beach. "Do you see him?"

"He was wearing all that armor…"

She stared at him, not understanding, not letting herself understand. "We have to find him."

"Alice-"

"No!" she snapped, not allowing him to say what she feared. The White Knight had not survived the Queen of Hearts massacring his brothers in arms just so he could die crashing a fucking flamingo into a lake. No! She spun away from the man, heading down the beach, away from the tree line. Snatching up his hat, Hatter followed after her. She started calling the old paladin's name. She had to find him. "Charlie!"

"If he's made it, there should be some tracks," Hatter pointed out.

"It's gravel, you don't make tracks in gravel," she retorted shortly, not looking back at him. "Charlie!"

"We're sitting ducks on this beach," he insisted. It was true. If any of the Aces flew by, they would be easily spotted. She didn't care. Apparently working out that he wasn't going to get her off the beach unless he dragged her, Hatter decided to address more important matters, perhaps thinking it might remind her of the reality of their situation. "Where's the ring?" Bad choice.

The ring. The fucking ring. All anyone cared about was that stupid ring! Maybe Tolkien had visited Wonderland and that's where he'd been inspired to write his Middle Earth books. She wanted to melt the thing down, smash it to pieces, just destroy it in the most violent and permanent way possible.

"Safe." She said the single word to keep herself from just telling Hatter to go fuck himself.

"Where?" Oh, he was pushing his luck. She ground her teeth together and kept walking. "You still don't trust me after I just… I risked my neck getting you out of there!"

"Yeah? And why did you risk your neck?" It had nothing to do with trust. Just let's be real, man, it wasn't for her.

"Unbelievable!" he scoffed. "Why are you being so ungrateful?"

Okay, that stung a little, because it was true. She was being ungrateful, but it was justified, wasn't it? Being regarded as less important that a piece of jewelry was cause for a bad attitude, right? "Look, I don't blame you." She didn't. Didn't mean it didn't hurt. "You're people need you and that ring could make all the difference."

"Is that why you think I did this?" He asked, growing angry himself. "So that I could get my hands on the ring?"

She turned on him, furious. "Didn't you?"

"Of course, not!" He sounded insulted and a bit surprised she thought it of him. A little kernel of doubt formed in her mind, but she pushed it roughly aside.

"You telling me you don't want the ring anymore?"

He stopped, struggling for words. "That's not what… That's beside the point."

"That's what I thought," she started walking again.

"Alice-"

"Look. I know you won't just abandon me, so don't think that's it," she assured him. He was a man of his word, after all. She was angry, but she really did trust him, after a fashion. He would do everything in his power to get her home - whether it was what she wanted or not. "But I can't leave until I find my father."

"Your father?" She'd forgotten Hatter didn't know what Jack had told her, given her. The watch! Her hand flew to her arm, afraid she'd lost it in the water. But no, there it was, the metal a stark contrast to her skin. She turned back to face the man.

"He's here." Poor Hatter looked hopelessly lost.

"I don't understand."

She pulled the watch off, holding it before her like a talisman. "Jack slipped me his watch." She hurried back to him, flipping the timepiece over to show the engraving on the back. "See? R.H. Robert Hamilton." Then the front again. "It's stuck on the exact date he disappeared, March twenty-third. That's what happened to him. He's in the casino somewhere." The girl looked up, face alight with hope and happiness and what she saw in Hatter's eyes just about broke her.

"He's lying," he told her, flat out. She had to turn away from him. It wasn't a lie. It had to be true. "It's just a watch, Alice. It could be anybody's."

"I remember this watch," she insisted.

"Do you, really?" he challenged.

"Yes." But her voice gave away that she wasn't so sure. She thought she remembered it. She knew she'd never told Jack about her father wearing a watch like this. "Jack took a big risk passing this to me," Alice said. The fact that he'd done so added credibility to his claim. He wouldn't have taken the chance at being caught unless it was of great importance.

"And you believe him?" Hatter asked, shocked by that fact.

"Why wouldn't I?" She knew why she wouldn't, why she shouldn't, but forced the truth down under the weight of her desire for it to not be so.

"Because he's lied to you about everything," the man voiced her own thought out loud, using it against her. The words sent a fresh spike of pain through her heart.

"He had his reasons." God, that sounded pathetic even to her, but she had to hold on to it. Had to believe that everything Jack had done could be explained. Jack Chase was a house of cards; if one fell, the whole thing toppled and her father was on the very top card.

"I'm stunned," Hatter declared. "Why are you even defending him?"

"Because he's trying to help me," Alice insisted.

"Really? Well, let's just think about that," he caught her in two strides and spun her to face him, eyes flashing as he spoke. "He took the ring from his mother, he gave it to you, why? It made you a target, Alice!"

"He didn't expect me to follow him." That much was definitely true. Wasn't it? Or was it? It had to be. "I screwed up bringing the ring here." Of course, he'd left the ring in her apartment, thinking it would be safe, and then she'd gone and brought it with her, almost landing it right back in the hands of the Queen. His mother.

"And he blames you for that?" Hatter asked in outrage.

"No!" She answered quickly. Too quickly, because hadn't he? Had he? She didn't know. It seemed like he might have. "Not exactly." She turned again, walking away from him. He was the voice in her head given form and free will and she couldn't silence him; her only option was escape. Or give up on Jack and, in doing so, give up on her father.

"Why's he even going around pretending to be someone else?" Hatter kept up with the hard questions she did not want to answer.

"He's hiding from them." It was the only explanation. Not the only explanation, but the only one she would allow herself to think of.

"Why?!" Hatter shouted the question.

Unable to take it anymore, Alice whirled on him again. "I don't know!" she cried. He backed off, just a bit, just enough to let her breathe. The way he was looking at her, she wanted to cry. Before she could stop herself, she told him the rest of the truth she had learned about Jack; her Jack. "He's engaged. To a Duchess."

Hatter nodded, completely unsurprised. "So, he's two-timing you." It wasn't a question, it was a statement of fact.

"I don't think it's like that," she said weakly. He was two-timing the Duchess with her. And God, she felt weak and stupid. The look on Hatter's face made her ribs feel like they were cracking. He looked so disappointed in her and it killed. It crushed her more than anything Jack had done, some how, that she had let him down.

"And now, all of a sudden, he tells you that your father has been in the casino all this time. Does that not seem a little bit fishy?"

"What do you mean?" But she knew what he meant. Knew before he even took the breath to say it.

"It's not a coincidence." And he was right. There was something going on with Jack that she didn't understand. And the reason she didn't understand it was because he had lied to her. Hatter was absolutely, unequivocally correct. And she still couldn't let it go. What did that say about her?

"Heeeey, nonny, nonny…" Alice blinked, thinking she must have gotten water logged or something. Maybe she had a concussion, because she was hearing things. "The wind and the rain…"

"Do you hear that?" Her heart leapt into her throat, afraid all that had happened that day had made her snap and her willingness to delude herself had taken on a life of its own.

"The wind and the rain…" She spun towards where the singing was coming from and saw smoke curling up from beyond a bend in the shore.

"I don't believe it," Hatter said. It was all the confirmation Alice needed. She was off and running almost before he finished the sentence. Only one crazy old knight around sang that obnoxious verse over and over again. She could smell the scent of burning wood as she skidded on the gravel, taking the turn too sharply in Hatter's borrowed boots.

"Heeeey, nonny nonny…" There he was, in his white long johns, sitting in front of a fire, holding a gauntlet on a stick over the flames. The rest of his armor was propped up around the little blaze in true Charlie fashion, neatly hung on quickly constructed racks and stands. He really was quite handy.

"Charlie!" she called his name happily. He was alive. He hadn't died, not because of her or anything else. The White Knight looked up and when he saw Alice running towards him, a huge smile split his face. He stood, dropping the glove.

"Thank Vilnius!" the old man exclaimed, opening his arms wide. Alice rushed into his embrace, throwing her arms around him and squeezing him tight. He was crazy and ridiculous and she'd only known him for a day, but she couldn't imagine him winking out of her life just like that. "I was just about to go back into the water and look for you again."

He had gone back into the lake to search for her? Her bottom lip trembled a little. "Charlie, I'm so sorry I dragged you into this mess."

He gave her a little extra squeeze. "Pish tosh!" he snorted gently. "You didn't drag me into anything, dear girl."

"How did you get to shore with all that armor on?" Hatter asked. They parted and Charlie scoffed at the question.

"I'm a knight," he told the younger man as though it were obvious. Well, he had told the younger so once already.

Hatter shrugged, a hint of a smile lingering at his lips. He put his hat on and adjusted it as Charlie tried to guide Alice into his seat by the fire, then readjusted it. When that didn't satisfy him, he took it off, ran a hand through his wet hair and resettled the hat on his head. "We need to get off this beach before we get spotted. We'll go back to the Kingdom and figure out what to do then." He started towards the woods.

"No," Alice said, stepping from Charlie's grasp and bringing Hatter up short. The dark-eyed man paused, probably counting to three before turning to hold his temper.

"No?"

"Look," she began, looking to both men and silently pleading with them to understand. "I really am grateful for what you did, getting me out of the casino, but-" and this wasn't going to go over well "-I have to go back."

Charlie gawked at her like she was insane and maybe she was. Hatter threw up his hands and spun away in frustration. He tuned back to her and stalked closer as he demanded, "Why are you still hooked on Jack?"

"I told you - my father. Jack was trying to help me," the girl repeated what she'd said not two minutes before.

"Really?" Hatter challenged. "Because it sounds to me like he was using you."

"And you're not?" Alice fired back and immediately regretted it. It was a low blow and entirely false, but she couldn't help herself. The man was trying to destroy the only hope she'd had of finding her father in almost fourteen years. It was a mistake in more ways that one as she could see her image in his eyes change. One more disappointment.

"No more than you're usin' me," he replied. She felt like he'd slapped her. Because it was true. She had been using him. Holding the ring over his head to get him to do what she wanted, play by her rules, even when she knew better. "Don't you care about what's happening here?" he asked, pointing out her outright selfishness. "All the people's lives who are getting ripped apart by the Queen?"

"I do care," she protested plaintively. She wasn't self-centered and heartless. It ached for him to think that of her.

"Then give the Resistance a chance," he urged vehemently.

""What, go running back to Dodo?" She could never face that awful man again, no matter whose side he was on. The thought of asking him for help was repugnant. "They don't care about me. I'm just another oyster to them."

"One arm of the organization, that was," Hatter insisted. "If we get to the top man, he'll help us."

So, it was "us" again. Somehow, that made her feel a little bit better about the whole situation. "You know him?"

"Yes," he confirmed confidently. "No, not exactly." Jesus Christ. She almost face-palmed, but he quickly added, "No one knows his true identity, but he goes by a code name: Caterpillar."

"Of course, he does." She shook her head, scrubbing her hands against her face. Fucking Wonderland. Hatter took hold of her wrists and pulled her hands away, leaning down so they were eye to eye.

"Give me a few hours. I'll slip back into the city and I'll make contact." He let her go. "You can.. You can stay with Charlie in the fortress. You'll be safe there," he told her reassuringly. The elderly gentleman nodded his whole-hearted assent. "If I'm not back by nightfall, do it your way."

What he didn't know was that her way was his way. She knew he was right, he'd been right from the first. She nodded. "Okay."

"Okay?" he repeated, just to be sure.

"Yeah."

"Okay," he nodded, relieved. Turning to Charlie, "Get your gear and get going. The Suits will be all over this beach soon." The knight nodded. Hatter gave Alice one last look, then headed off down the beach.

"Hatter!" Alice called after him. The man stopped and looked back questioningly. "Be careful."

He smiled. God, what a jackass. "Aren't I always?" And he was moving again, further away, around a bend and gone.

"No."

"No?" Charlie inquired from the stump he'd sat on to don his socks - which, absurdly, were black. Alice shook her head, eyes still on the spot where Hatter had disappeared.

"He's not always careful." Not when it came to her, anyway.

Alice had offered to carry some of Charlie's heavy armor, since he was just as cold and wet as she and quite a bit older, but he insisted he was fine. It was late afternoon when they finally reached the Kingdom of the Knights. Until she saw the empty corral, the girl had completely overlooked how her rescuers had even gotten to the casino.

"Charlie, where are the horses?" she asked, concerned. The man waived off her concern.

"Percival and Guinevere know their way home," he assured her. "When it starts to get dark, they'll return." She should have guessed the White Knight would have a few more tricks in his bag.

The girl was hungry, but couldn't eat the food her host offered; she was tired, but could not sleep. Too much had happened, too many thoughts raced through her mind, emotions through her heart. She had been such a fool with Jack. Letting herself get so wrapped up in him. When something is too good to be true, it usually is. She knew that, but he had been so damned charming, so attentive of her. And he'd been lying through his perfect, white teeth the entire time. She looked down at her ruined dress with a new sense of disgust. How could she have been so blind?

She was just as bad as Jack in some ways, pretending to be something she wasn't. The dress, not that it wasn't pretty and not that she didn't like it, wasn't really who she was. She didn't often wear dresses. She didn't wear blouses and slacks and heels and make-up to go to the grocery store. Alice Hamilton wore jeans and t-shirts, things with bright colors. She gravitated towards the whimsical and fun. And, to be perfectly frank, if she wanted to get a little fancy, her style would never have run towards airy summer frocks and business chic. She had done this for Jack, to be the kind of woman he wanted, because he was the kind of man she wanted. Sweet irony.

"Charlie, this might be a stupid question, but are there any clothes left in the city I could borrow?"

The knight had just looked at her for a moment and she thought maybe she had said something to upset him without realizing it. Then, he smiled widely and scampered off into the ruins, calling for her to follow him. He brought Alice to a large building that reminded her of a cathedral. The roof had caved in in places and a large part of one wall was missing, but this damage had been repaired. She couldn't imagine how long and hard Charlie had worked on fixing this structure and quite admired the man his persistence and dedication. When he opened the door and motioned her inside, she was floored.

Her first impression of the building as a cathedral seemed to play out, as the inside was just one great, huge hall. The hall was filled with racks and racks and tables of clothing, the walls lined with boots and ladies' slippers in all sizes and colors she could imagine. Silent with amazement, the girl walked among the racks and tables, running her fingers over beautiful gowns and fine vestments. Some of the cloth would have been too fragile to lift from the ravage of time alone, but everything was pristine and perfect. Every button shined, every leather boot soft and supple.

Beyond the vast collection of garments, something shined in the light that passed through what remained of stained glass windows. The girl made her way down the center of the hall, where an isle had been left open between the racks. At the far end of the building, neatly organized and beautifully polished were of suits of armor, well over a hundred of them. Swords and lances stood in wooden brackets, maces and morning stars hung from pegs on the walls. Not a speck of dirt, not a spot of rust or tarnish dared sully the perfect luster of the pieces. Alice stood and stared, awestruck.

"Oh my God, Charlie," she breathed. He stood beside her and chuckled.

"You should see the second floor."

The girl gawked at him. "There's more?"

"Oh yes. Every helmet and boot, spaulder and grieve," he nodded. "Every sword and dagger in the entire kingdom is kept within these walls. It wouldn't do to have left them to the elements. It would be an insult to the gallant knights of the realm."

"Is this what you do out here alone every day? Sit and polish boots and armor?" She was astounded and… touched. She didn't need to ask to understand that this was how the White Knight honored his fallen brethren, keeping their memories through the only thing that remained of the great paladins - their armor and weaponry.

He snorted. "Oh heavens, no!" Chuckling at her silliness. "Only on Tuesday and Sunday." Quite a character, that Sir Charles.

"Charlie, I can't take any of this," Alice protested. He would have none of it, holding up a hand to silence her denial.

"Nonsense. What tribute does it pay the brave men and women of the Kingdom to have these things go unused? They may just as well have been laid to rest in the ground," he proclaimed. His voice was slightly thick and he swallowed before going on. "Tis a far better way to honor them, to put these, their treasures, to good use. So that they may be remembered and live on through them."

The girl nodded, blinking back the moisture in her eyes. "You're a wise man, Sir Charles," she told him. The old paladin actually blushed, his scalp turning pink under the tousled wisps of white hair.

"Come, let me show you something." She followed him to a table laid with clothing. Beside the table stood a rack hung with dozens of beautiful dresses. "These are the vestments of Sir Miranda, one of the fiercest lady-knights in the history of Wonderland."

"There were female knights?"

"Oh my, yes. Why shouldn't there be?" he asked, perplexed.

"In my world, only men could become knights," the girl explained. "Only men of noble blood."

"Well, yes, one must be noble to be a knight."

"No, as in descended from royalty." The old man balked.

"That's ludicrous. The line to which one is born has no more to do with the nobility one's a heart than the color of one's horse," Charlie proclaimed sternly. "A knight is such because of their deeds." His face fell then, but before she could ask him what was wrong, the man rallied. "I am certain Sir Miranda would be honored if you would wear her raiment, Alice of Legend."

Alice shook her head, laying a hand on the man's arm. "Charlie, I am not the Alice of Legend. I'm-" She almost said "Just Alice" again, but caught herself. "-a normal girl who fell into Wonderland by accident. I didn't come to right any great wrongs. I wouldn't even know how to go about it if I had."

"Was Alice Liddell so different?" She had no answer for that and looked away with a sigh. He was going to be so let down when he finally realized she was nothing special. "Regardless, I give these things to you to do with as you will. And," he added with a crafty little quirk of his lips. "You would do well to remember it is a great insult to refuse a gift freely given."

Well, he had her there. She couldn't help but smile. He was a wily old coot, that's for sure. Turning to him, she curtsied dramatically. "Thank you, good sir." The knight bowed in return, the mischievous glint in his eye assuring her he was in on her little jibe.

Turning back to the table, Alice could see why Charlie had chosen these clothes. Sir Miranda's tastes had run towards shades of blue and silver, colors that would bring out Alice's own blue-gray eyes. Every piece was just beautiful, the dresses some of the most exquisite the girl had ever seen. Those gowns were far too formal and delicate for her to wear, especially given their current predicament. The other clothing, leather trousers and various tunics and blouses, intricately embroidered doublets and vests, these were things that would stand up to all the trouble she got herself into.

Sorting through the offerings, Alice chose a modest tunic woven of some wonderfully soft, and light, yet strong material. The cloth had been dyed a pale, smoky blue and silver threads had been used to carefully stitch embellishments at the short collar and cuffs. Looking closer, she could see that the embroidery depicted dragons breathing fire. The flames, she noticed, shifted the further from the beast they flew, turning into strangely shaped… flowers?

"Charlie, do you know what this pattern means?" she asked out of curiosity. The old man bent close to peer at the images.

"Oh, the tale of the flame lily," he nodded with a little smile. "Many years ago, the forest faeries were celebrating the vernal equinox, the first day of spring. The Great Dragon of winter was angry at having to relinquish his hold on the world to his brother, as usual, and decided to spoil the fae's merriment. He bellowed and spouted fire, threatening to burn the whole forest down." The girl listened enraptured by the story.

"Well, the magic of the faeries was no match for that of a dragon, so they could not stop him. But," Charlie's eyes twinkled as he touched a finger to the cuff Alice held. "They could transform the flames. And so they did, turning the deadly fire into the most beautiful blossoms in Wonderland. These flowers are known as Dragon's breath or flame lilies and bloom every year on the first day of spring, even if the snow still falls."

"That's a wonderful story," Alice said, smiling. He nodded.

"Isn't it? A powerful lesson, as well." His finger tapped the silver flowers. "Even if one is not so powerful as their opponent, one can still be the victor."

It was then that Alice realized Charlie wasn't crazy at all. He spoke and dressed and behaved differently than she, but he was sharp as tack.

She took the tunic and a pair of terracotta colored leather britches, along with a pair of socks and a thong to tie back her hair. It took nearly twenty minutes to find a pair of boots that fit, fortuitously enough almost the same hue as her new pants. The White Knight also gave her a dagger to wear on a belt at her hips. Alice almost refused it. Knives were only effective if you used them to inflict the most damage possible (i.e. death). Anything less and the blade was more of a hindrance than an asset and she didn't know if she would be able to go through with something like that. The girl accepted the weapon, but was fairly certain she would not be wearing it.

Together, the two went back to Charlie's camp and Alice, armed with needle and thread and a pair of wickedly sharp tailor's shears, sat by the fire on a large animal fur and set to altering the garments. Sir Miranda was a bit taller and larger than she, herself. As she cut and sewed, Sir Charles's soft singing a pleasant background noise, the girl imagined the dashing lady-knight wielding her sword in battle and vanquishing all foes. She wondered what the woman had looked like and was about to ask when her friend (for he certainly was) spoke up.

"How old were you when your father disappeared?" He asked gently.

It wasn't her favorite topic of conversation. Thinking about her father was a painful, frustrating activity that left her feeling sore and angry. But, Charlie was her friend and so, she would answer his questions. "Ten."

He nodded sympathetically. "Must have been quite a shock."

Alice licked her lips and swallowed the tightness in her throat with a shrug. "Yeah. You know how kids are. They blame themselves for that kind of thing." Talking about it like it had happened to someone else was always easier. The paladin's eyes slipped from hers, taking on a far off kind of look, filled with sadness.

"Charlie?" she called softly in concern.

"I was ten once," the elderly man said, still staring off into nothingness. "I was ten when the armies came."

"The Queen's armies?" She asked, stunned. Alice Liddell had brought down the Queen's rule a century and a half ago, but her majesty had defeated the Red King even before that. "But that was-"

"Almost two hundred years ago."

"Oh my God, Charlie." How was he still alive? That wasn't possible. In her world. In her world, people didn't live that long, but she had to remember this was Wonderland. He'd been alone for two hundred years.

The knight went on. "I was one of three squires to the real White Knight." The real knight? She didn't understand, but did not interrupt, letting him go on at his own pace. "My job was to carry the great lance. But when it mattered, when I was needed most… I lost my nerve and I ran."

Poor boy. She thought of a small, frightened child, faced with a massive army. How could he not run? Charlie hung his head in shame and all she could see was that little boy, all she wanted to do was hug him and tell him he had done nothing wrong, that it would be alright. But obviously, it hadn't been alright. The man before her started breaking up kindling and tossing the small sticks into the fire pit to give his hands something to do.

"I hid for three days," he continued. "And when I came out… everyone was dead." Oh, God… Her heart broke for him. She couldn't even imagine something so horrible. "Even the magnificent Red King up there on his throne." He motioned towards the once grand stone seat. "At first, I wished I'd died with them."

Oh, Charlie, no. She almost got up, but he kept talking and she let him. "But, after a while, a deeper feeling took over. I… I wanted a second chance. I wanted to avenge them. So, I stole the White Knight's armor. His name… his courage." He drew a shaky breath, hazel eyes shining now. "And I waited for the right time." The man looked at her then and smiled gently. Smiled through his tears. "When you showed up, I knew the right time had finally arrived."

She couldn't say anything passed the lump in her throat. He nodded and sniffled, turning to reach for more kindling and quickly wiped his eyes. Pushing the clothing aside, Alice stood and went to him, wrapped her arms around his shoulders before he could turn and stop her. He laid his hands on her arms, leaning his head against her shoulder. Tears slipped from her eyes as she struggled to find something to say, anything to ease his pain, his guilt. He was ten, a boy. How could anyone expect a child to go into battle? It was inhuman.

"You are a brave and noble knight, Sir Charles," she insisted, voice quavering but resolute. "I believe in you." Then, as her voice failed her, on a whisper, "I believe in you, Charlie."

The fairy story I stol from an episode of Food Network Challenge: Cupcakes. Originally, it was just about a dragon crashing the fairy party, but I changed it a bit. I don't remember the name of the woman who made the dragon/flower cupcakes or I would give her proper credit. Sorry.