Chapter Text
The Isle. 1 year before.
“You made your point.” Ben called, internally amused when she jumped and turned, clutching the spray paint to her chest. He’d caught her off guard. It would probably never happen again.
The air between them was electric, as if someone had sparked a fuse and now the live wire was free.
They stood there for a long moment, neither one willing to break the spell. They were on the precipice. Once they stepped off, there would be no going back.
“Now it’s my turn to make a fucking point.”
And with that, he closed the distance, threading his fingers into her hair as he pulled her lips to his.
...
Auradon. Present Day.
“I’m worried about Ben.” Queen Belle fixed her husband with a look as Sherwood Forest sped by outside the tinted windows of their limo. “Maybe if you talk to him -”
“He’ll tell us when he’s ready.” King Adam reassured her, reaching over to squeeze her hand. They’d been having some variation of this conversation every few weeks for over a year.
When Ben had broken up with Audrey, Belle had worried he was struggling under the weight of her campaign to win him back. Adam had maintained Ben would work through it, and let them know if he wasn’t.
When Ben had gone missing after an argument with Audrey and turned up on the Isle, Belle had worried that he had some kind of PTSD. Adam insisted it was the look of a man who was working out what he wanted. He didn’t mention he was pretty sure Ben’s angst was more to do with a girl than anything else. That it had been like looking into a mirror twenty six years before, when Belle had returned to the village.
When Ben started becoming evasive, hiding in his suite, or booking hotels for no apparent reason, Belle worried that his strange behaviour was definitely PTSD and she should never have let him talk her out of a therapist. Adam pointed out he was probably seeing someone and wanted to keep it away from Audrey.
When Ben started an investigation into corruption within the Auradon Guard and the Isle supply chain, Belle couldn’t understand how he’d known to look for it. Adam assured her Ben knew what he was doing…and quietly enlisted Mulan to find out what his son was really up to.
And when Mulan told them Ben’s new girlfriend was Maleficent's daughter...Belle had almost fainted, and Adam sounded like he was trying to convince them both when he said he trusted Ben’s judgement.
“You saw him when we video called. They’re still not talking, and Leah is getting bolder.” Belle pressed, her tone laced with concern. Something had happened six weeks ago. Ben had booked a suite in the Citizen Hotel for a week, but had come back a few days early under a dark cloud. Since then, he’d been short tempered and irritable. He’d been rude to the staff. Constantly checking his phone, even when it didn’t ring. He’d run out of a Council meeting the one time his phone did ring. That was a month ago. Belle didn’t think they’d talked since. “I just want him to be happy.”
“Have I told you recently that I love the fact you’re a fixer?” Adam laughed, bringing her hand to his lips as he kissed her knuckles. “Ben is too. But he needs to work out what kind of man, what kind of King, he wants to be on his own terms. And judging by how miserable he is, I’d say he’s getting there.”
Belle huffed, but didn’t pull her hand away. Instead, she lay her head on his shoulder and groaned, “I swear parenting a twenty-three year old is harder than parenting a teenager.”
Adam only laughed at her statement, the limo pulling to a stop outside Belle’s outreach centre.
As Queen, Belle spearheaded initiatives for everything from education to supporting female led businesses. This centre would help children from underprivileged backgrounds get the education they deserved.
Months in the planning, and today was the grand opening.
Belle exited the limo first, throwing a quick smile in Adam’s direction. Even after twenty five years, she wasn’t in love with the showman element of their role as High King and Queen. Inside, she was still the inventor’s daughter.
She loved her people. Loved her causes. But she’d be much more comfortable once they were inside the building and they could get down to the real business of the day.
Adam stepped out into the sunlight, taking in the crowd in the square. He raised his hand in a wave, smiling warmly at his subjects.
He always appreciated the support, the people who came out to see them. He made sure that he spent time on the red carpets and walkarounds. Giving people more than a few seconds of a glimpse.
Adam saw the bullet before he registered the shot.
One minute he was waving at the crowd, the next something whizzed past his wrist. He frowned, looking in the direction the wind had travelled. No one seemed to notice anything.
The next, he was being knocked onto his back as a white hot pain seared through his shoulder. He cracked his head off the cobbled pavement, making the world turn on its side. People were screaming, he could see the crowd moving - some pushing against the barriers trying to help him, most running in all directions.
He could hear Belle screaming his name, but she sounded far away.
Reaching for his shoulder with his free hand, he was surprised when he saw blood.
...
The Isle. Twenty minutes before.
“M, you have to see this for yourself.”
Mal looked up from where she was curled in the window seat of her bedroom. Dragon Hall was a masterpiece; dark stone, winding towers, hidden passages and stained glass windows that would make the Archbishop jealous. As a child, to Mal it was just home. As an adult, Mal wondered how her mother had managed to keep the family home when they were imprisoned on the Isle.
She was moping.
Not that she’d admit it. If anyone asked, she was plotting.
Plotting all the ways that she could derail her boyfriend's diplomatic trip, but still plotting.
She could walk in looking like a demigod. Break Evie out via the Underworld, raid one of her cousin’s wardrobes and pretend she actually belonged in his world.
Or she could smoke in looking wicked, sashay over and kiss him (claim him) like she meant it. In full view of his prissy pink ex and every camera, giving exactly zero fucks whether or not they saw.
“Kinda busy, E.” Mal sighed, swinging her legs around so she was facing Evie. She rolled her eyes, expecting the next words to be about how EQ and Jafar had gotten into it over a tub of peanut butter. The supply chain had improved in the last year, and Mal was still adjusting to this new, petty side of their parents. She thought she’d seen cruelty until she saw the mind games that ensued over desserts. “What are they arguing about now?”
Evie let out a shaky sigh, causing Mal to quirk her eyebrow in question. Now that she looked, she noticed the way Evie was leaning heavily against the door, as if she needed it for support. The way her cheeks were flushed and she was just a little breathless.
This wasn’t their parents fighting over food, this was about a boy .
But Mal couldn’t think of any man on the Isle who could elicit that response from her best friend.
“Prince Benjamin is in the drawing room.” Evie breathed, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the dream. She fixed Mal with a wide eyed look, a hint of envy lacing her tone, “Looking for you .”
Mal was silent for a beat, replaying the words in her head to make sure she’d heard them right.
Crown Prince Benjamin.
Son of her mother’s sworn enemies. Son of the man who trapped them on the Isle.
Prince Ben, her boyfriend , who was supposed to be somewhere in the Far East for his friend’s first Swords and Shields World Championship. Meeting Emperors and negotiating trade deals.
Being all princely and good.
“And my mother hasn’t slit his throat on sight?” Mal clarified, jumping to her feet and heading towards the door. She made a conscious effort to look merely curious, unaffected. It didn’t matter that she wanted to sprint down the spiral staircase and separate him from her mother. She had a front to uphold.
“They’re having some kind of weird staring contest.” Evie admitted with a shrug, trying to pull herself together before they returned to the drawing room, “Beast Junior is putting up a good fight.”
“We better get down there before one of them snaps.” Mal muttered, grabbing her leather jacket from the back of a chair. She didn’t want to spend too long thinking about what must be going on in Maleficent's mind right now. “Wait.” She stopped suddenly in the doorway, fixing Evie with a look that told her not to ask questions, “How do I look?”
Mal wasn’t vain. But she was human. Kind of. She hadn’t seen Ben for six weeks, and they’d argued before she came home. There was more to her plotting than pettiness when it came to looking great and staking her claim. When she thought about seeing him next, she’d planned on making an effort to look more like the girls in his world.
Dressed up. Staking her claim against the princess she’d overheard in the hallway. To prove to herself she could do it when she had to.
Because if she could do it when she had to, maybe they had a future after all.
Instead, she was wearing a ripped white T-shirt over a black tank top, and vibrant green and purple leggings. She looked...like herself.
At least she knew Ben liked this version of her.
Evie just grinned knowingly, reaching out to fluff Mal’s hair. “Totally badass.”