As It Began

AN: It's been years since I've written anything and I'm hoping this will get me going again. This may be a one-shot deal; still deciding whether I can make the committment to expanded this. The story is certainly there. Set prior to the movie. If you ship Alice/Hatter this is not for you. In my head, the White Queen's appearance differs from her appearance in the movie. If you care to see what I see, visit my deviantart page (link can be found on my profile). Click on gallery. I've done my best to proof reread, but please feel free to let me know what I've missed (just don't be a Bandersnatch about it lol). However, I'm obsessive-complusive about re-reading my stuff to correct errors so as you read this, I'm probably in the document manager making corrections. Hehee. In some places, paragraphs are structured in a way to make a point, though I try not to deviated too far from standard form.

All standard disclaimer apply: Disney, Burton, Carroll, etc.

Dirge of the White Queen

An ode to our beloved Queen, may she one day return to power

Once upon time there was a pretty little princess of a strange, strange land who was very, very good and very, very kind. Heir to the throne was she, but she spent her days carefree, playing in the gardens with a strange, strange boy- the son of servants in her parents' court who made strange, odd toys that mooed and quacked and clicked and clacked. They danced all day by the babbling brooks, told secrets, and discovered new fairy lands in the flowers beds. But then one day, her dear friend went far away; his parents no longer served in her parents' courts.

The pretty little princess grew taller and kinder, and older and wiser. She spent her days learning practical things that a queen should know, shut away from the strange, strange world, with only tutors to lecture about rules and responsibility. And the pretty little princess now rarley smiled. When she had no duties, she just sat in her room with a sad, sad stare.

A new attendant arrived in her parents' court one day. He was a strange, strange man; stranger than strange he was down right odd, but he made the most beautiful things to wear. He worked in seculsion and was rarely seen, but soon he was an associate of the King. Strange, Strange was the way he had to make the monarch laugh, which a very difficult, very hard thing to do.

The pretty little princess one day came to his quarters, curious and bored, tired and sad. She hid behind the door and watched him work in a flurry, a frenzy, a very mad way with scraps flying here and chunks flying there. She wasn't quite sure how he discovered her cover and threw the door shut. A bit frightened, a bit scared of what he might do, she wasn't prepared when he simply just stared... And smiled.

Then one day, just he as promised, he came to make her pretty things. In his creative furor, something fell from his wrist- a bracelet of acorns, odd bits, and strange bobs. As the pretty little princess reached for the trinket, he stopped and watched curiously as she simply just stared... And smiled.

Somehow, someway, her childhood best friend had found her again.

The Queen and King began to spend more and more time away from the castle, in other strange realms, for very long extended times, and the pretty little princess could not be left unchaperoned; it was not proper! So the childhood friends, they plotted and planned and schemed and prayed until her father appointed her dear friend as her guardian, her protector.

Routine wasn't to change simply because the Queen and King were away, but instead of studies and duties and boring old things, they danced and ran and they laughed and dreamed...

All too soon the pretty little princess became the age when she had to choose between a noble knight, a prince in white, or her childhood best friend.

Did she marry for love or did she marry for duty?

The pretty little princess she made her choice, but, oh, how she's suffered ever since.

She could never tell a soul her choice, not now, not yet, but when she was Queen, there would be a New Order, no need for hiding or lying, all would be seen. But the old Bishop, he warned before he joined them matrimonially, that their journey would be daunting and not at all smooth. Impossible absolutely their union would be. She laughed at the notion; impossible was possible in this strange, strange land if you only believed. But the old Bishop, with grave, sad, eyes, slowly shook his head. "I've seen it before in the past. Before you were many who believed the same things, but it never would last."

"My father told me," she did reply, "to choose a King based on the size of his heart and the strength of his character. My choice I have made is much better, far wiser that the one my Mother made for me." And the Bishop's words fell to floor, trampled underneath dancing feet.

And the pretty little princess was quite content to pass the days playing house with her childhood best friend.

Her days were spent masquerading as an eligible woman who became engaged to a knight whom some called a knave. She was a proper princess so good and kind who was never disobediant and never lied while her childhood best friend stood by her side as her guardian and chaperone, her protector and guide. Clandestine in shadows, through small trickeries and tiny white lies, she danced as little wife to her dear, sweet friend.

So short was the time that the childhood friends played for the Queen became ill and the King gravely injured. And instantly, the pretty little princess became the pretty little Queen of a strange, strange land. She stood before the kingdom at the grand coronation, unprepared and confused, not sure what to do, for her monarch lessons she'd shunned for merriment's sake.

The mantle of Queen she bore choked her soul; weighted by a burden she never wished to bare. But bare she must, duty now called: The charter set forth centuries before dictated that she had but one destinity that could ne'er be changed.

And her childhood best friend continued to loyally, diligently serve his furtive bride, waiting with joy for the promised New Order where a Queen could marry her equal in character regardless of his birth.

That New Order never quite came for in the anguish and confusion of the former monarchs passing, the pretty little Queen's virulent and jealous Sister discovered the secret and used it against her.

It happened so fast-with the Kingdom surrounded, her Sister proclaimed her unfit to rule, called her uncaring and selfish with no thought for the people and the Sister, she stripped the pretty little Queen of her crown. All that was white was now swarthed in red.

And what of her childhood best friend? He was labeled a traitor, a thief, a seducer, and worst of all, mad. Banished forever he was from the court, and his ties all severed from the pretty little Queen.

And that strange, strange land with its odd, odd denizens was plunged into rouge darkness. Not even an ember of hope remained.

Much Time has past leaving the pretty little Queen all alone with her regrets. The burden grows greater with each passing day as the laments of her people grow louder with more despair. Her head bows low and her eyes are bluer now than before. Her frail hands sit folded her lap with her left hand on top. She stares with sorrow at the bracelet round her wrist made of bobs and bits of very odd things and the slender silver band that encompasses her third finger- both made by her childhood best friend.

And so as the pretty little Queen awaits the day when she must return to take back her throne, she wonders and worries, that if victorious would she again have to choose between a noble knight, a prince in white, or her childhood best friend? And if she did, what would she do? Would she make the same choice? Would it all end the same? In the same very awful, very terrible way?

Pretty little Queen, her expression never changes. Features etched with meloncholy, the tears have since ceased falling like rain.

Pretty Little Queen, her expression never changes...