A Glimpse at Fan Fiction

A light rain tapped against the high windows. The white-grey clouds blanketed the countryside as far as the eye could see. The weather was less than pleasant, but showed no signs of any impending storm. Essentially, it was a lovely English summer.

On the other side of the rain spattered windows, the little salon was warm and dry thanks to a well-tended fireplace. Two young women were preparing to sit down for an afternoon tea. Both were young adults. Both were beautiful with blonde hair and blue eyes. Beyond that, the two seemed markedly different in small ways.

The hostess wore a blue dress with long sleeves that seemed unfit for the warm weather. Likewise, her hair was lovely, but little more than a style of Parisian bob not common among proper English ladies of the late nineteenth century. She had already taken the tea serving from the servants and sent them on her way. She seemed very focused on maintaining a proper demeanor, but she kept her eyes averted from her guest. There was a nervous quality to her that seemed to contrast with the high station she clearly was born to.

“Milk and sugar, Captain?”

The guest smiled sweetly and tried to meet her gaze to no avail. She wore a dress of rougher material. It was clearly a lady’s riding outfit, though she had arrived with no horse. She had also arrived alone and carried herself in such a manner that servants had immediately begun whispering about how odd she seemed. Even more unusual than her hostess’ bob, this woman wore her hair long, but shaved nearly to her scalp above the right ear. Yet she exuded a calm and confidence that threatened to put all nervousness out of the room.

“That would be lovely. Thank you, Miss Kingsleigh.”

“Please, just call me Alice. Even the servants have never called me by my father’s name.”

Alice poured tea with all the proper protocol and form of a lady of station. Then she carefully handed the serving to her guest.

“Well, Alice, if we are to forgo pleasantries, let us leave ‘Captain Greyhope’ to the servants. Just called me Dwen.”

“An unusual name. Oh… but lovely to be sure.”

Somewhat flustered, Alice sat down opposite Dwen and took a moment to smooth her dress. Still trying to avoid direct eye contact, she tried to take in more of her unexpected visitor. Dwen was breathing in the steam from the tea, but smiled in such a manner that Alice could not quite sort it out.

Many people smiled at her with the sort of dismissal or contempt normally given to social pariahs in polite society. No one said a word of actual contempt, of course, but compliments were rapid and rehearsed. This was not the sort of smile that Dwen wore now. Alice had long questioned her ability to read people around her, but if she had to guess, she would say her guest was… excited?

After a tentative sip to find the tea still just a touch warm, Dwen set down her cup.

“I apologize for the unannounced intrusion, Alice, but I found that our meeting had to happen sooner than later. Once my associate, Mr. Davies, uncovered news of your past experiences, I knew there was much we could learn from one another.”

Alice tensed. Under the table, she clenched small hands into smaller fists. A childish urge to sweep the tea set off the table was barely quelled by proper upbringing. She unclenched her fists before standing up and taking a few tentative steps away. When she looked up, she found herself standing in front of the tall mirror that sat against one side of the salon.

She froze. Her heart fluttered slightly with old panic. She locked eyes with the Alice in the mirror and found she did not like what she saw. She cast her gaze back to the floor.

“I understand if it is a delicate subject,” said Dwen, “but I assure you the matter is important.”

“So you are some kind of journalist then? Perhaps sent to interview me and make a mockery of my Lord Father in Parliament? Haven’t you people done enough?”

“I promise you I am no journalist. And the only thoughts I have of your father are unkind ones for the way you have been treated.”

Alice glanced over at her wrist and saw that her sleeve had ridden up slightly. Deep red ligature marks remained on the exposed skin. It had been years since they had regularly restrained her, but those marks refused to heal. She quickly pulled the sleeve back down over her wrist.

“Then what is your profession, Captain?”

There was bitterness in the use of the rank Dwen had given upon her first introduction, and Alice regretted it immediately. Still, she found herself transfixed to her spot on the floor in front of the mirror; that mirror…

“My profession is… complex. For our purposes, let’s think of me as an editor of very specific types of work.”

“And what type of work might that be?”

Alice’s reply was flat. Her mind felt elsewhere, even as she reflexively continued the conversation. Without much thought, she stepped up to the mirror and reached out. Her hand hovered over the glass and she found herself afraid to touch it again. She was afraid of what would happen; of what truths she would have to accept.

“Let’s call the work I do, well, fan fiction.”

The term was entirely unfamiliar, and it pulled Alice away from looking glass. She did not entertain the idea that her reflection had smiled at her briefly as she turned away. Once she did, the pull of the mirror let go and she hastily returned to the table.

“I am unfamiliar with ‘fan fiction’, I’m afraid.”

“In fan fiction, you put your own spin on someone else’s story. They might, for example, tell a tale where Shakespeare’s young lovers got a happy ending and fled fair Verona. Sometimes, the new story is just wish fulfillment on paper.”

She wasn’t sure why, but she was fascinated by the words coming from Dwen’s mouth. So much so, that she had actually made eye contact and leaned forward to listen with intent.

“And what are the new stories the rest of the time?” Alice asked as she bit her lip in anticipation.

Dwen leaned forward and matched the young lady’s gaze. She smiled.

“Actual wish fulfillment.”

Dwen let the answer linger. She opened herself to Alice’s scrutiny. In those dark blue eyes, Alice found no duplicity. Indeed, something about Dwen’s eyes spoke of wisdom and truth beyond anything Alice had encountered. At the very least, anything she had encountered in England.

“Alice, I can’t believe I finally get to say this, but I need your help getting into Wonderland.”

There it was; the word that had ruined everything. Alice jumped back away from the table. This time, she moved toward the windows in order to avoid the mirror. She clenched and released her fists several times as emotions crashed through her. The whole thing suddenly made her eyes red and made her wrists ache.

“Preposterous! What you’re asking of me is… is… well, it’s madness, that’s what it is!”

Alice had raised her voice, but Dwen simply sat back in her seat and looked after Alice with professional calm.

“We’re all mad here,” was all she said.

Shaky, Alice slowly turned to face Dwen again.

Almost on reflex she repeated words she hadn’t heard since she was seven.

“You must be, or you wouldn’t have come here.”

Immediately, a wind with no apparent origin rattled the windows against their frame. If either woman was startled, they made no show of it. Alice looked again toward the mirror, afraid suddenly of what she might see. In the mirror, her image was not frightened. It was grinning at her in a most peculiar manner. When she stepped away, her image moved with her, but the grin remained where it was. It hung in the reflection as an impossible thing conveying impossible ideas. Then it vanished as if it had never been.

Alice looked to Dwen and it was clear that she had seen it too. The young woman looked positively delighted. In Dwen’s eyes were now the light of someone living a lifelong dream.

“Having endured this scrutiny may have been a nightmare for you, Alice. I assure you, though, that there are places out there that have heard stories of your journeys and those stories have been retold for ages to come.”

“You mix verb tense as though Time has no meaning.”

“Just because it has meaning, doesn’t mean that it means what it means every time.”

Alice nodded.

“It really isn’t just a mere thing, is it?”

Dwen shook her head.

“Would it help if I said lives were at stake?”

Alice returned a weak smile, but gave no answer.

She returned to the looking glass. It was the very same looking glass that had taken her out of this very room on a rainy day much like this one. Once again, she reached out but stopped short of touching the glass. Some part of her mind resisted. It had been years before she could even look at any mirror, let alone this one. Doing anything else would make her right for all these years. Worse, it would make those that claimed to love her cruel for what they had done to her for the last twelve years.

“What lives?”

“One of my crew, a woman by the name of Celeste. I have no doubt that she can handle herself in Wonderland. It wouldn’t be the first magical realm she has spent time in. In fact, she is probably as excited about the whole ordeal as I am to finally meet you. But her being there complicates things and I need to retrieve her before it’s too late.

“I haven’t been able to access Wonderland myself. It seems Celeste tumbled in entirely by accident.”

“As happens,” Alice said, as she chanced a rare smile.

Alice stared at her reflection again. This time, the only smile was her own and it left her face on both sides of the looking glass. Was all of this really happening?

“What you’re asking me… it changes everything.”

Alice was uncertain if she was speaking to Dwen, or her reflection. She wasn’t sure it mattered.

“Of course it does,” Dwen said, “but you aren’t the person you were before, remember? The choice you have to face now is whether or not you accept that change, as you once did, or if you let the fear and ignorance of your family and society force you to deny that change.

“I will continue working and I have no doubt that eventually Mr. Davies and I will find another way to Wonderland. I suspect, however, that this route will prove not only the safest for Celeste and myself, but may ultimately be the best for Wonderland itself, and perhaps even you, Alice.”

Every mention of Wonderland made the glass Alice wasn’t touching seem warm. She could feel the dense heat coming off the glass. She knew then. All she had to do was touch the glass and Wonderland would be waiting for her. Perhaps it had always been waiting for her.

“Before I can do this I have to know. I don’t know why, but I feel it is quite necessary. You must answer me two questions and you must answer them with complete honesty.”

“I promise you I will never lie to you, Alice. Ask your questions.”

Dwen took a long drink of her tea before standing up and coming to stand beside Alice.

“Firstly, you say you are excited to finally meet me. How long have you been waiting to take part in this story? Secondly, you introduced yourself and Captain Greyhope. A most peculiar name, for certain, but it implies you are captain of something and since this Celeste is a member of your crew, I presume you have a ship. What is the name of your ship, Captain?”

Dwen smiled.

“As I reckon time, fickle as it is, I have been waiting to meet you since I was a little girl, no older than you were when you first saw the White Rabbit. That was centuries ago.

“And you are correct in assuming I have a ship, though it is perhaps not so much a ship as you would fathom it. The crew is small, less than a dozen. Many of them have come to me from other bits of fan fiction I have had the privilege to visit over the years. What we do has repercussions that are often impossible to see.”

Without moving her hand, Alice turned her head slightly to look at Dwen's reflection in the face.

“And the name of your unusual ship?”

Dwen’s smile only widened.

“I named her The Looking Glass the day she left her moors.”

At that moment, Alice understood why she had asked. Some part of her knew the answer would be the deciding factor. Hearing that name given as something to be honored, to be remembered and praised healed some part of Alice long crippled by society. What happened to her had really happened. What had happened mattered. For that matter, she mattered.

Resistance vanished and Alice placed her hand to the glass. It was both warm and cold, but it was also both solid and liquid. Where she touched, the glass first shimmered and then rippled slowly out in circles from her hand. She felt the tingle running up her arm. It was what she had once acknowledged as the feel of Wonderland’s madness.

It was a madness that was at once cruel and kind; weird and reassuring. For the first time in twelve years, Alice felt like she was going home.

She held out her other hand to Captain Dwen Greyhope of The Looking Glass, who took it eagerly.

“Let us go find Celeste, shall we?”

Alice did not wait for an answer. She stepped forward and let the cool wetness of the looking glass flow past her. Dwen held on tight and followed on her heels.

When the servants came to check on them soon after, there was no sign of the two women beyond the tea they had poured.