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Part 8 of Misfits & Mischief
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2025-06-13
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Redemption or Ruin

Summary:

Across Auradon the news of Ben's Proclamation spreads, leaving some of Auradon's greatest heroes pondering the nature of their actions and the consequences of the VKs being released. On the Isle of the lost, life continues on as if nothing has changed; at least for most of its citizens.

AKA, as Auradon reacts, the Isle plans.

Notes:

Just to warn everyone, this one gets creepy towards the end so skip Frollo's section if things like creepy men commenting on young girls triggers you. It's Claude Frollo, that should be its own warning.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Snow White

Snow stares down at the official royal proclamation sent to her studio directly from Beast Castle. The memo isn’t too out of place seeing as Snow does run the most popular news station in Auradon. It’s the contents of the memo Snow White can’t comprehend.

Realistically, Snow knew Belle and Aurora had spent the last twenty years advocating for the children on the Isle of the Lost. Realistically she isn’t surprised Ben is following in his mother’s footsteps. But staring down at the written proclamation, looking at the eight names listed, Snow White can’t help but feel off kilter.

Eive, Daughter of the Evil Queen is right there, as clear as day, in between Carlos De Vil, Son of Cruella De Vil and Gil, Son of Gaston.

It’s been years since Snow truly thought about her former stepmother. She’s worked so extremely hard to distance herself from politics and royal decrees. She’s a news reporter; her sole goal is to deliver the truth to others, but not about this.

Snow feels the nausea bubbling in her gut. She knows it’s her duty to report the news with no clear bias. Just the facts and none of her own opinions bleeding through. But Snow doesn’t know how to do that. She wants to run; to flee until this is all so far behind her it’s completely out of sight.

Evie; just reading the name sends a cold chill down her spine. Snow can feel her panic mounting; her hands shake involuntarily, and her breathing quickens. This is all her fault. There’s a reason she went into the reporter business instead of politics. There’s a reason Florian runs their kingdom instead of her.

Snow’s therapist said it would be beneficial for her to do something with her life that wouldn’t constantly trigger her PTSD. Despite all traces of the Evil Queen being removed, their castle still reminds her of the cruelties of her childhood. No amount of redecorating can erase all the pain she experienced. Snow knows she’s lucky to have Florian who cares more about her own wellbeing than living like proper royalty.

Their current home is much quainter than any castle and homier too, like the cottage her dwarfish family lived in. It’s filled with new memories and no reminders of the past. Snow feels like she can actually let down her guard when she’s there. She doesn’t see the Evil Queen hidden in every shadow or feel as though every meal she is served will be poisoned like before.

It helps, the change of houses and a career outside of royal duties, with working through her trauma. She hasn’t had an episode in almost a decade. Well, until today that is. Because her wickedly evil stepmother has a daughter, one who will be in Auradon by the end of the week.

Ironically, Evie’s existence is what triggered her last episode. The knowledge that the Evil Queen had reproduced, had a new daughter to torment, nearly destroyed Snow. Grappling with Evie’s existence was something Snow just wasn’t mentally prepared to deal with back then.

Aurora, for her part, honored Snow’s wish to be uninformed about all things Evie. Her fellow royal understood that any updates she brought only worsened Snow’s fragile mental state. Of course, Florian and some of the dwarves picking up the slack Snow couldn’t probably helped matters.

Snow always meant to check back in on Evie, after she was better. But then life kept moving forward. Her seven dwarves found their soulmates, weddings were held, and children were born. Snow White loves being their Aunt Snow; her only regret is how little she tried to be there for Evie.

Because Snow knows exactly how the Evil Queen would parent a child and Snow walked away. Her therapist will probably say something along the lines of ‘It’s better to save yourself before trying to save others’ but that hadn’t made Evie’s life any better.

Because Snow saved herself but made no effort to save Evie and that is inexcusable.

What kind of person walks away from a child in need of help? What kind of person is so selfish they can’t be bothered to try; mental wellbeing be damned. Snow could have tried harder to get better. She should have worked through her trauma faster, if not for her own sake, then for Evie’s.

Snow had no one in her corner growing up, the Evil Queen made sure she was the only human interaction Snow ever got. It was pure luck Florian found her over and over again, no matter what her stepmother did. Snow was supposed to be Evie’s person. Snow was supposed to save Evie in all the ways she wasn’t.

“Hey Snow, I was wondering if- What’s wrong!” Florian rushes to her side, wiping the fallen tears from her face. Huh, Snow hadn’t realized she was crying.

She tries to tell Florian of Ben’s royal proclamation, of Evie’s impending arrival, and of her own failings. The words get lodged in her throat. The only sounds that escape are sobs. In the end, all she can do is hand the paper over to Florian and hope he understands.

She cries into Florian’s shoulder as he quickly reads over the paper. He lets out a small gasp and presses a gently kiss onto her forehead. “This is a good thing, isn’t it?”

“I left her there. I left Evie there with her.” Snow sobs, clinging harder to her soulmate.

“You might not have joined me in those Council meetings but that doesn’t mean you condemned Evie. The Council has refused to release the VKs for twenty years. You helped yourself and now we can help Evie recover together.” He sounds so certain, so assured and Snow can’t help but feel worser for it.

Snow didn’t just forget about Evie. She left her on the Isle to die. She knowingly left a child trapped with that monster.

Snow looks up from his shoulder. “She must hate me?”

“Oh Snow, if the reverse was true, if Evie was the adult and you were the child trapped on the Isle, would you hate her?”

Snow struggles to find the words that convey how she feels. Florian’s hypothetical situation is different. Logically, she knows he’s just trying to prove that Snow is ten times harder on herself than she is of others; that her trauma makes her so critical of herself but so very forgiving of others.

It’s a trauma response she might actually share with Evie.

Florian gives her his brightest smile. “Evie will always have a place in our family. We’ll shower her with so much love and affection. We can’t change the past, but we can save her future.

Snow isn’t sure if she truly believes Florian will be right, but she does trust him explicitly. If Florian can find her over and over again, if he can break any curse her wicked stepmother casts, then he’s the most qualified person to help Evie.

After all, he saved her.

Hermes

There are moments where Hermes truly wishes he wasn’t known as the Messenger of the Gods, and this is truly the worst of them.

The phrase ‘Don’t shoot the messenger’ exists for a reason and Hermes does not want to be struck with lighting. Because that’s liable to happen when he tells all of Olympus the latest hot gossip straight out of Auradon or more accurately straight out of the Isle.

Of all the junior villains the mortals nab, why did it have to be the demigod!? What happened to Auradon deals with mortals and Olympus deals with the divine? Shouldn’t Olympus have been informed of the boy king’s proclamation before the rest of the world?

But that would mean someone else, most likely Athena, would be informing Zeus of this little predicament. No, better leave that to Hermes, it’s not like he’s liable to be electrified by lightning. Honestly, wasn’t the whole point of Athena being on the mortal council to prevent things like this from happening? She should be the one getting struck instead of him, but she’s the favorite.

Look, Hermes is all for letting the innocents out of eternal imprisonment. And he’s sure the other seven pipsqueaks are just lovely. It’s just the whole son of Hades walking free among them that really puts him off.

The kid is one big enigma. No one really knows a whole lot about the guy. They know he’s about sixteen; give or take a year. The kid, and Hermes should really start calling him Achite, seems to be a loner just like Hades before him. When Achite does grace the rest of the Isle with his presence it’s usually to settle some type of debate or to sign contracts or make deals.

Between the leather and dark colors, a preference for being alone, and a knack for drawing up contracts, Achite seems to be the second coming of Hades. Which wouldn’t bother Hermes or Olympus too much if the damn kid was stuck on the Isle of the Lost.

But the kid will be in Auradon, alongside seven of his fellow, possibly evil, VKs. And it’s up to Hermes to inform Olympus of that. Again, he’d really rather that be someone else’s job considering just how much a certain lighting wielder hates any mention of his former brother, or the kid said brother made.

Honestly the one thing Hermes would like to know is which villainess actually got with Hades in the first place. You would think someone would have figured that out by now; after all there’s only so many villains trapped in the Isle. But the truth of Achite’s maternal parentage remains a mystery. No scary villainesses have laid claim to the boy and the rare Hades sighting never involves other parties outside of his kid.  

Personally, Hermes is of the belief that Achite’s mother is a mystery even to Hades. The boy has such a strong resemblance to his father that she could have abandoned the babe with Hades and walked away clean. It wouldn’t be the first time a mortal women abandoned an infant in their father’s domain. Although, said domain is usually one of their temples and most often for either Zeus or Poseidon.

And really who would want to sleep with Hades of all gods considering- a flash of lighting cuts off Hermes thoughts just as thunder begins roaring across the sky. It doesn’t take a genius to know which God is currently pissed. Maybe Hermes should come back at a better time?

But that risks Zeus finding out from someone else and then Hermes will really be trouble.

With a shake of his head, Hermes settles his ever growing nerves and enters Mount Olympus. He steadily walks past columns and portraits of various gods, nymphs, and past battles. By the time he reaches Zeus’s main chamber the sky is dark with only occasional flashes of lighting illuminating the halls and the thunder is deafening.

Hermes hands shake slightly as he pushes the doors open. The slight before him is unlike anything Hermes expected. Athena stands respectfully as Zeus shakes in anger. Hera standing confidently, her face impassive but her eyes revealing just how rattled she is by whatever is happening.

And oh no…. oh no no no. She told them, didn’t she!? Athena actually told them! Hermes doesn’t need to be here. Hermes doesn’t want to be here anymore.

Zeus turns his gaze to Hermes, anger rolling off of him in waves as the thunder echoes overhead. Hera reaches out for her husband, but Zeus shrugs her off. Hermes can only watch in horror as Zeus rises from his seat The angry God crosses his arms over his chest and Hermes resists the urge to curl up into a ball on the floor.

“How long?” Zeus asks, his voice barely audible over the thunder.

“How long what?” Hermes tries to feign ignorance, but the flash of lighting tells him it doesn’t work.

“Father, it was my decision. Achite deserves…” Athena pleads but is cut off by another roar of thunder.

“The boy deserves nothing!” Zeus screams, the power emanating from his body hangs in the air.    

Anastasia

There are very few things that shock Anastasia. Her soulmate and Ella defending her from being imprisoned on the Isle of the Lost was the last time she was ever truly caught off guard. Anastasia had grown used to being the odd one out among her mother and Drizella. It’s part of why she was so awful to Ella all those years ago.

She was desperate for her mother’s love and did truly wicked things to keep it.

Anastasia is glad she was able to break free from her mother and sister. She’s thankful Ella is such a kind and forgiving person, even if some days it isn’t deserved. If it weren’t for Ella and Thomas, who knows where she would have ended up.

Thomas, her soulmate, gave her a chance to truly be whoever she wanted. No longer was she Anastasia Tremaine the ugly stepsister of Cinderella. Now she was Annie Baker, wife of Thomas Baker, mother of their daughter Bailey, and a master at frosting cupcakes.

It’s a life her mother had never wanted for her; a life Annie never knew she desired. But there’s no place she rather be then covered in flour as her husband and daughter roll out dough. She never quite grasped the concept of baking, but Annie still helps decorate her husband’s pastries. They did run a family business after all. A business Bailey was eager to join once she finished her schooling at Auradon Prep.

While she and Ella never quite rekindled a better sisterly relationship; there was just too much negative history there, they both agreed to try again as friends. It’s worked out much better for the two of them this time around, with Ella visiting most mornings for a sweet treat to start the day with. More often than not Charming accompanies her and sometimes Chole and Chad joins them too.

Which is to say Ella arriving on her own is usual. Annie can feel her heart drop; something is wrong, it’s been years since Ella has looked this shaken. Annie sets down the tray of scones she was displaying and makes her way to Ella.

Ella doesn’t say a word, just thrusts a newspaper into Annie’s hands. It takes her a moment to settle her nerves enough to read the headline but once she does, well Ella’s behavior makes a whole lot of sense.

Annie knew some of the queens wanted to free the children from the Isle. As someone who grew up with a villainess for a mother, she does her best to help Aurora advocate for the children as best she can. Truthfully, her aid is done mostly in secret, not because Thomas wouldn’t approve, but because Annie’s afraid if she reminds the council that she used to be a Tremaine they’ll ship her back to her mother.

It's an irrational fear; one Ella and Aurora assure her will never come true but that doesn’t really do much to dispel it.

She is glad that Prince Benjamin’s Royal Decree will help free eight children from the Isle. Her only complaint is that her nephew and nieces are still trapped in the Isle. Last either Annie or Ella heard Drizella was up to four kids; one nephew and three nieces.

“Well, this is a good thing, right? It means we can free the four of them from mother and Drizella.” Although she’s gotten better at consoling people in times of distress, Annie never feels like it works.

Ella nods, tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. “Yes, and when we do get the four of them here, we need to be on the same page. For so long our goal was to bring them to safety but we never discussed who would actually gain custody.”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that.” Annie admits.

It’s true that the four of them, being Annie, Ella and their husbands, focused more on the impossible task of freeing the children born on the Isle of the Lost that none of them actually formed a plan on what to do once said children arrived in Auradon.

“At least we have some time to figure it out!” Annie adds on.

Ella nods in agreement. “Aurora said the Council wants to see how well these eight acclimate before they start bringing others over. So, we have at the most one year before the next eight are chosen.”

“Then we have a year to get everything in order. Oh! I’ll get Thomas, he’s great at planning.”

The sound of Ella’s laughter ripples across the small bakery as Annie makes her way towards the ovens in the back where she knows her soulmate will be. She hopes the eight teenagers chosen by the prince adjust well. She hopes they’re able to toss aside whatever wickedness lies in their hearts like she did twenty years ago.

No matter what the future holds, Annie knows they won’t stop until their family is complete.

“Hey” Annie greets as Thomas looks up from where he’s removing a batch of cookies from the oven. “Did you hear what Ella said?”

Sometimes you can pick up conversations from the front of their shop if you stand in a certain place in the back. Thomas explained, back when they first started courting, that it’s to help the Bakers hear any customers entering the shop if they’re busy baking in the back.

With a little nod he replies with a gentle, “I did. Is that really what you want?”

His tone holds nothing negative, just a soft questioning demeanor. It brings a smile to her face to know that after all these years he still likes to ensure Annie is doing what she wants and not what others expect of her. The kind reminder that she’s free to do what she wants even if it goes against Ella’s wishes is just another way Thomas looks out for her.

“I’m sure. I want this too. We can break the cycle, Thomas. No more wickedly evil Tremaines.”

“Alrighty then.” He says with a big smile before gesturing for her to lead the way.

By the time they arrive back to the front of their shop Ella has wiped the tears pooling in her eyes. She leans against the counter, eyeing the various treats Annie was able to display before her arrival. Thomas gives Ella a wave, one she returns, before moving to the open sign at the front entrance. He’s able to flip it to closed when the door bursts open.

All three occupants watch as blonde hair darts past the doorway into Ella’s embrace. It’s been a while since Chad has greeted the bakery with his presence. Bailey had mentioned the prince had been very busy between his studies at Auradon Prep and his position on the Tourney Team.

Thomas lets out a small chuckle at Chad’s dramatic arrival, a trait Ella has told Annie is inherited from his father. There’s a story there, one Ella told her many years ago, involving Charming jumping from a balcony or a window or something. Still, Thomas is able to, albeit temporarily, close the shop for the morning.

“I came as soon as I heard. Ben just told all of us.” Chad stutters out, his chest heaving with every word.

Ella takes a moment to fix Chad’s hair, eyeing her eldest child for any scratches or scrapes. Once she’s satisfied that her son is okay, she finishes her assessment by smoothing out the sleeves of his shirt. Annie pours Chad a glass of water, the kid definitely looks like he needs it.

“Chad, sweetie, are you alright?” Ella asks as Chad downs the glass of water Annie provide.

He shakes his head, “Ben told us about his proclamation and the VKs he chose to bring over. He asked us to be their roommates! Can you imagine that?!” There’s a frantic edge to Chad’s voice, one that Annie can’t tell means he’s excited or terrified by all of this.

Ella’s eyes light up and a warm smile graces her features. It’s in moments like this that Annie can truly understand why her mother and sister were so threatened by Ella. She’s a true beauty, both inside and out.

“Oh, that’s a wonderful idea! What better way to forge lasting friendships between all of you than by being roommates! Did Fairy Godmother already pick the pairings?” As Ella speaks, Chad tenses before relaxing once more.

Annie watches as Chad slowly begins mimicking his mother’s excitement. His eyes sparkle as he looks at Ella, and his smile mirrors her own. Annie has always said that Chad was a miniature version of his mother.

“Ah no, Ben said we could sign up or I guess volunteer to have one of them as a roommate. I know Ben’s doing it but I…” Chad trails off, frowning, but with a shake of his head he’s back to being bright and shiny. “I wanted to talk with you first before agreeing. I wasn’t sure if you would be okay with it.”

Ella coos at Chad, embracing his face between her hands. She places a kiss in the center of his forehead. Chad lets out a happy little sigh as Ella does so. They look so happy, and a small part of Annie is jealous she can’t remember the last time her own mother did anything like that with her or Drizella.

“Well, if you want to sign up, I have no problems with it.” Ella gives one of Chad’s cheeks a little pinch.

He bats her hands away, laughing as he whines out, “Mom!” The whole room laughs, as Thomas slinks an arm around Annie’s waist.

“I should head back, but I’ll let FG know she can sign me up! Okay, bye, love you mom! Oh, bye Annie, bye Thomas!” Chad announces before darting out of the bakery in a similar fashion to how he arrived.

The three adults all exchange a look with in another. They’ve grown used to the antics of teenagers, always darting around Auradon, texting and calling their friends at odd hours, and all of the moody behavioral changes.

“Should we expect any other Charmings to burst into my shop?” Thomas teases.

“No, but to be safe maybe we should have this conversation at the castle.”

With another laugh, Annie and Thomas follow Ella back to the castle. They have much to discuss, after all. The fate of the Tremaine family hinges on the decisions they reach. Maybe now being a Tremaine won’t make Annie feel so ashamed of herself.

Robin Hood

From across the room, Marion’s eyes catch Robin’s. Even now, twenty years since they reunited at the former prince’s archery tournament, Robin’s heart speeds up whenever Marion is nearby. Marion bats her eyes at him, beckoning him closer, but before Robin can rush towards her their eldest daughter, Melissa, makes a loud gagging sound.

“Gross dad!” Teases Mason, their eldest son, as he joins his sister in making gagging sounds. The pair of siblings stand so close to one another it’s impossible to tell which strands of brown hair belong to which teen.

Marion laughs as she fixes the hair of their youngest kid, Bobby. How Bobby manages to tangle leaves in his brown hair despite being the best behaved of his siblings still remains a mystery. Bobby, unlike his siblings, expressed no interest in exploring the Sherwood Forest or learning archery.

“Yeah, yeah, I love your mother; it’s gross, I know.” Robin’s eyes glance around the room searching for the rest of his family.

Obviously, Marion and Bobby are in front of him with Melissa and Mason laughing and gagging nearby. Micah and Riley are on the other side of the room talking excitedly with King Richard and Little John. The only one of his children who is not present is Ryker.

Before Robin can panic, Jett, Little John’s son, bursts into the room. All eyes fall onto the blonde as Jett’s chest heaves as he clutches a newspaper tightly between his fingers. While still hunched over the doorway of the room Jett holds out the day’s copy of Charmington News for someone else to take.

With years of practice escaping the Sheriff of Nottingham and robbing that no good former Prince John, Robin Hood reaches Jett and daftly removes the newspaper from the sixteen-year-old’s fingers. He quickly reads the headline- Prince Ben’s Royal Degree: Eight VKs Released from Isle- and laughs aloud.

“Can you believe it?” Robin Hood announces to the rest of his Merrie Men and family. “It only took twenty years and a boy king, but those innocent kids are finally getting the freedom they deserve!”

Marion places her arms around his shoulders, her head leaning against his own. The ends of her brown locks tickle his cheeks “Oh! How nice!” Her voice is still as soft and gentle as when they first met.

A cacophony of cheers echo across the room as his Merrie Men celebrate the beginnings of the VKs being freed from the Isle of the Lost. It isn’t lost on any of them that they could have ended up being imprisoned on the Isle if King Richard hadn’t returned in time to stop his brother. In another life, it might have been their own children trapped in that hellscape.

Someone, probably Lady Kluck, passes out drinks and Allan-a-Dale starts strumming up a song on his lute. Around the room everyone pairs up with their soulmates and starts dancing or drinking, or both. Robin knows, mainly from personal experience, this celebration will last all night long.

“Just a moment, love.” He says before pressing a quick kiss onto her cheek. There’s still one more kid for Robin Hood to locate.

With a nod of understanding, Marion nuzzles his cheek before heading into the chaos of their family’s celebration. Just as he steps out into the hall Robin takes one last look into the room. Mason spins Sawyer, Skippy’s son, as the two teens laugh aloud. Both of King Richard’s daughters sway in tune to the music with Kelly, Lady Kluck’s daughter, and Sarah, one of Sis’s kids. Jett and Riley clink their glasses together as Micah looks hopefully at Tori, Toby’s youngest. Melissa lifts Bobby off the ground and twirls him around the room as Marion spins around by herself.

Ryker is the only one of their children not present. Normally, the twelve-year-old loves to be in the center of their family’s chaos. If his siblings are practicing their shooting, then Ryker is there stringing his bow alongside them too.

At least, that was the norm before their kid turned twelve. Now Robin and Marion are lucky if Ryker joins them for breakfast. You’d think they would be used to the moodiness of teenagers considering they’ve gone through it three other times. Alas, Ryker is proving to be much more than any of his older siblings.

Luckily, for Robin, Ryker hasn’t wandered too far from home. Robin spots him sitting beside the tree line for the Sherwood Forest. The bright red of Ryker’s hair frames his face in such a way that Robin can’t help but feel like he’s staring into a mirror. His son looks up upon his arrival, his green eyes-stained red with freshly fallen tears.

“Woah, hey! What’s wrong, kiddo?” Robin reaches out in an attempt to wipe away his son’s fallen tears.

Ryker pulls away, choosing to wipe away his tears himself. A part of Robin feels a little heartbroken that his own son is refusing his offering of comfort. He gets it, teens don’t like to feel babied by their parents, but Robin thought they would have a few more years left with Ryker.

“Ryker, kiddo, what’s going on?” He pleads, hoping that whatever has upset his son is something he and Marion can fix.

“What makes us so different?” Ryker whispers, his voice raw from crying.

“Different from what? The rest of Auradon? Well for starters we’re shapeshifters-”

“No dad,” Ryker looks straight at him, eyes burning in grief, “What makes us so different from the villains on the Isle?”

And isn’t that a loaded question. It’s one he, Marion and the rest of his Merrie Men have asked themselves over and over again throughout the years. The answer is simple really, King Richard pardoned their crimes before Auradon was formed; before the Isle of the Lost was created. Of course, one could argue that the crimes Prince John committed were way worse than anything Robin Hood had done.

“Well, the crimes I committed were in protection of the innocent. I stole from a corrupt prince in order to provide for the poor. I may have stolen riches, but I never hoarded them for myself. I shared that wealth with Friar Tuck and the rest of Nottingham’s citizens.”

This time when Robin tries to comfort his son, Ryker doesn’t pull away. He wraps his arms around his son and runs his fingers through the red locks of Ryker’s head. Ryker turns towards him, diving headfirst into Robin’s chest. His sobbing echoes loudly amongst the trees or maybe it only feels that way to Robin.

“It’s not fair.” Ryker sobs. “It’s not fair at all!”

“What’s not fair? Kiddo, I need more of an explanation.” Robin feels like he’s twelve steps behind or missing an obvious sign.

Ryker looks up, eyes pooling with tears. His mouth repeatedly opens and closes but no words follow. Instead, his son rolls up his sleeve, revealing his soul mark. The needle points out beyond the bounds of the Sherwood Forest and in the opposite direction of Nottingham.

“So, your soulmate isn’t from around here, what’s wrong with that?” The look Ryker levels him tells Robin there’s a key piece of information he’s missing.

“Dad, it points at the Isle! My soulmate lives on the Isle of the Lost! I’ll never be able to meet them!” Ryker wails.

“Well actually, about that, it seems Prince Ben has used his first Royal Degree to free eight teenagers from the Isle.” Robin feels immense relief watching the hope that overtakes Ryker’s face.

“Really!? Then that means one day I could meet her?” Ryker’s voice wavers as his fingers gently touch the needle of his compass.

With the exceptions of Melissa, and now Ryker, the rest of his children found their soulmates among the citizens of Nottingham and the Sherwood Forest. It breaks his heart to think Ryker has spent all this time truly believing he would never meet his own soulmate. The few years Robin spent in the Sherwood Forest waiting for Marion, not knowing if she would ever return, were the worst years of his life.

But he can’t imagine how hopeless it must feel as a twelve-year-old.

Queen Leah

All Leah could do was stare at the television in horror; not that the word truly captured her feelings. Snow White continued on, detailing exactly how and when eight little villains would be brought to Auradon. Horror was not enough, dread was much too quaint, no, Leah felt as if her entire world had crumbled around her.

In a way it had, after all nothing good could come from the Dark Fey’s daughter roaming Auradon.

If Leah knew her retirement from the Council would allow those fools to trick Prince Ben into allowing such evils into their kingdoms, well she never would have retired in the first place. Ben had not grown up during the height of evilness, when monsters roamed the lands killing and pillaging all they came across. He didn’t know the full extent of the atrocities those villains committed in the name of furthering their own corrupt power.

The Council knew better. They had lived through it just as Leah had. Why they still believed the children of such monsters could be capable of goodness was beyond her. Leah knew in her heart the only thing those monsters were capable of was finishing what their parents started. They were all in danger and now so were their own children.

The whole point of creating the Isle of the Lost was to ensure the next generation of lawful citizens would never know the horrors that existed before Auradon was formed. The Isle is supposed to be an inescapable prison for those villains and their spawn to rot in for all eternity. To let them out, to let Maleficent’s daughter out; well, it’s inexcusable!

Even after all these years Leah can still envision it within her mind; Maleficent appearing in a flash of green flames, her voice echoing across the stone. The dread that pierced Leah’s heart when that monster cursed Aurora. The anger on Stefan’s face when all the spindle wheels were rounded up to be burned.  

The hope she felt when Merryweather used her only gift to give Aurora a way to be awoken, only to be followed by the grieve of watching the three Good Fairies take away her only child.

It wasn’t fair! She lost sixteen years with her only daughter; the irony of Prince Ben taking away Maleficent’s only daughter, her sixteen-year-old daughter, isn’t lost on Leah. But that fact alone does nothing to quell the burning jealousy within her. Why should Maleficent get sixteen years with her own child and Leah’s precious Aurora when Leah was robbed of everything!

If only Stefan was here, then maybe he could talk some sense into their daughter. Aurora, bless her heart, only saw the goodness of the world and people around her; even when it wasn’t there. Stefan knew what it was like to be tricked by the Dark Fey, to be compelled into loving such a monster. But Stefan was able to undue that trickery, and if he had survived Maleficent’s attack upon their castle, then he could have saved Aurora from that dark magic too.

“Listen well, all of you.”

Aurora had fallen for Maleficent’s spell, for the Dark Fey’s lies and deceit. Even after the first curse pricked her finger, Aurora only saw that Mistress of Evil as another mother. To put the very creature that cursed her on the same pedestal as Leah! Her own mother; her flesh and blood!

“The princess shall indeed grow in grace and beauty, beloved all who know her.”

To watch her only child defend the beast that robbed them of their chance at growing up together. To listen as Aurora tried to justify why Maleficent killed Stefan, Leah’s own husband and Aurora’s only father. To pretend to enjoy that monster’s company for Aurora’s sake. All of it left Leah seething with righteous fury.

“But, before the sun sets on her sixteenth birthday, she shall prick her finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel and die!”

In the end, all it took was another sleeping curse to prick Aurora’s finger once more for Aurora to be reminded of what kind of monster Maleficent really was. Leah thought that lesson would be enough for Aurora to never want anything to do with the Dark Fey again.

Instead, her daughter, so pure and innocent, set about on a worthless crusade in defense of the Isle’s innocent occupants. As if the Isle of the Lost had any innocence in the first place! Villains and monsters can only create more evilness. Their children are incapable of love for they have no hearts to hold love in the first place.  

And now Auradon will learn the hard way that these little villains are nothing more than pawns for their parents, tools to be wielded for wickedness, and the second coming of their parents’ vengeance. A vengeance that will be taken out on their children and grandchildren.

It will be Audrey who suffers from whatever curse the Dark Fey’s daughter casts. It will be Prince Ben who is struck down by Gaston’s sons. Melody will be gutted by Ursala’s wretched daughter. Aziz and all of Agrabah will be destroyed by Jafar’s brat as every puppy in Auradon is skinned alive by Cruella’s son. Neverland will be haunted by Captain Hook’s children and Olympus will crumble before the son of Hades. At least Snow White had no children for the Evil Queen’s daughter to poison.

But they wouldn’t stop after completing whatever revenge plots their parents spent the last twenty years cooking up. Auradon would fall to its knees, bodies would pile in the streets, and blood would stain the ground. The suffering will be endless and the nightmares unending.

Unless

Unless those no-good brats are shipped back to the Isle of the Lost where they belong.

Yes, and if Leah ensures it happens before those little monsters have the time to enact their plans, then Auradon will be better for it. After all, it is Leah’s duty as royalty to ensure the wellbeing of her people and the wellbeing of her allies’ citizens. It doesn’t matter if Aurora is head of the House of Briar-Rose now, that responsibility will always be one Leah is happy to help with.

A mother’s duty isn’t finished once her child grows up. No, a mother’s job continues until the mother is dead. If Aurora and the rest of Auradon need to relearn this lesson, then Leah is more than happy to reteach it.  

Captain James Hook

James snatches the letter, using his hook to hold the paper up to his eyes. He skims the wording lazily, making sure to sigh and yawn loudly. He spots CJ leaning on the wall, hand resting on the hilt of her sword. The Captain of the Auradonian Guard clears his throat rather loudly. James gasps dramatically, looking straight at CJ as his youngest just rolls her eyes in annoyance.

“Mind your manners guard dog.” CJ sneers as she pushes off the wall.

The guards around them tense up and their fearless leader clenches his jaw angrily. CJ ignores them, instead strutting over to stand by his side. He holds his hook out to her, and she carefully yanks the letter off it.

“So, your precious prince wants our children, hrm? And I’m just supposed to hand ‘em over without a fight?” James placing his hand on his hip and holds the hook out towards the guards before him.

CJ scoffs out loud. “They’re taking all the fun VKs! How am I supposed to join Uma’s crew now?!” She throws the paper to the ground, her honey locks swishing back and forth from where it’s tied up- James believes it’s called a ponytail.; Smee would know maybe he should ask- focus!

“Your son and his acquaintances were already picked up and taken to Auradon this morning.” The stuck-up guard informs them.

Already taken?!” James screeches dramatically, his hook resting above his heart. “Without a single goodbye too! And I thought you people were the good guys!”

“I knew you goodie little heroes were just as bad as the lot of us!” CJ cackles, head held high.

 “James Hook, we-”

“That’s Captain Hook to you!” Both he and CJ shout at the same time.

“Captain Hook, we just need you to provide some clothes and personal effects for your son and then we’ll be on our way.” The captain, although not as cool of a captain as him, says.

“You wouldn’t need us to pack Har’s things if you’d let him say goodbye.” CJ teases as she makes her way up the stairs and into their home.

He knows his daughter well enough to know she’ll pick out Harry’s favorite outfits and most beloved trinkets. For all their squabbling, CJ and Harry are still siblings; and they love one another very much. She’ll ensure her brother is taken care of; Uma and Gil on the other hand…

“Don’t tell me you’ve asked the Sea Bitch and Gagston about Uma and Gil?”

“They are Uma and Gils parents.”

James can’t help himself. He laughs loudly and uncontrollably. It’s just too funny. Ursala and Gaston caring about their kids. Please! James did all the hard work; and Hades too, not that the God will admit that aloud- reputations to uphold and all.

“You do know that brute of a man disowned dear Gil years ago, right?” He watches as the guards’ eyes all widen in shock. Honestly, just what is Auradon teaching these people?

“No, we did not.” The captain sighs as one hand pinches the bridge of his nose. “I take it Uma is in a similar situation?”

Well, luckily for all of you, I happen to take such excellent care of them both!” James turns around with a flick of his long red coat. “Smee!

Instead of his first mate appearing, CJ returns with a large duffle bag stuffed full. His eyes roam the rest of the room, but no Smee appears. All he spots are empty tables, dirty glasses, and mugs half full of rum and beer. The first floor of his home is a rather dingy bar, but it’s been the heart of the docks since the beginning of their stay at the Isle; at least it was until Ursala stole the docks from them.

“Where is that man? Smee!” He shouts it louder this time, reveling in the way the guards flinch as they rub their widdle ears.

“Dad, you gave Smee the day off, remember?”

“Oh, right I did, didn’t I?” He taps the blunt end of his hook against his chin.

That does sound vaguely like something he did recently. Harry mentioned some deal Uma and Achite were making today, meaning most of Uma’s crew would be busy. No point in opening the bar if most of his customers were away and Smee did say something about wanting more time with his kids.

If CJ said he did it, then it must be true… right?

There’s still the matter of someone needing to pack up stuff for Uma and Gil. James would do it himself, but it is rather hard to pack one handed. And his hook does tend to get caught on things like blankets, bags, and clothing. If only there was someone else well versed in the wants and needs of Uma and Gil like he ... CJ!

“CJ my dear, daddy has a favor to ask!” He whirls around to face his daughter.

She hands off the bag to one of the guards. The man, nearly as old as he is recoils in fear from CJ. Smart man, his youngest has quite the vicious streak just like her mother before her. Ah, the mother of his children, his fearsome pirate queen...

Wait! Focus Hook! He had a point somewhere here… Where did it go?

Right! Uma, Gil, and CJ maybe hopefully packing their bags for him.

“Well, don’t keep me hanging old man. Spit it out already.” CJ waves her hand impatiently, urging him to continue.

“CJ, my baby, light of my life, could you please pack a bag for Uma and Gil too? Pretty please with a splash of rum on top!” He begs, hand clutching hook as his daughter ponders his request.

She taps her fingers against her chin and eyes James up as she circles around him. “And what do I get out of this?”

“Calista Jane, you do realize you’re now the only child of mine left on the Isle. Whatever you heart desires is mine to gift you.” He wraps his arm around her shoulders and uses his hook to gently poke her nose; blunt end only, he’s not a monster.

“Ugh, fine. I’ll pack those damn bags!” She twists out of his grip, not that he was holding onto her rather tightly, and marches right back up the stairs.

For several minutes the guards and James exchange heated looks. Their captain looks like he’s reached the end of his patience with James. Which is rather funny considering James isn't even trying too hard to be annoying. Besides, there’s still a very real chance they haven’t talked to Hades yet.

Now that’s a conversation James would love to watch.

“So, have you talked with Hades yet?” Several guards step back as if they can sense his rising excitement.

They should be afraid. James wouldn’t want to be the person telling Hades they took his kid. Don’t touch the demigod; that’s like the one thing everyone on this Isle knows pisses Hades off. It’s quite literally the only rule Hades has left. There might actually be bloodshed. This might just be the most fun James has had since Uli died.

CJ bounces down the stairs, two empty bags in hand, and gestures for the guards to follow her. “Come on boys, Uma and Gil’s stuff is shipbound. And, since I’m so nice, I’ll even drop you off at Hades’ lair.”

“Bye, sweetie! I’ll see you soon!” James shouts, waving his hook.

For her part, CJ just waves out one hand as the guards follow her. He closes the door behind them, thankful for the quietness he’s left in. James will miss them, the Sea Three, and the life they brought back to the docks. Losing them isn’t the same as losing her and yet the pain still hurts the same way.

At least he still has Calista Jane. James isn’t sure what he’d do if Auradon took away all his children.  

M*r**e*  

Time is hard to grasp. Memories escape his reach, whispering words and flashing in images his mind can’t decipher. There was an accident, that much he remembers; a voice, so familiar and feminine, begging him to live and a flash of black curls and green serpent eyes. Mother?

The voice returns sometimes, when the light just begins to rise, when the light peaks high up, or when it disappears entirely. She always has offerings of food or drink; is always trying to coax him into ingesting it. He isn’t sure he complies with this. He has no memories of consumption but there’s not much he remembers these days.

His name for instance is constantly lost within the confides of his awareness. The names the woman calls out differ. ‘Mordred’ she pleads. ‘My baby’ she begs. Somedays he’s referred to as ‘The true king of’ somewhere.     

There was a war. He remembers that much at least. A war, which one? For what? For what? For whom? He had a task; something important to protect. Gems, three in total; his greatest treasures. There are no gems here, at least not the three he’s looking for, just a bed, a window, and a mirror with some kind of table beneath it.

He never seems to stay by the mirror or the bed. Whenever he’s conscious his only view is from the window. There are ruins beyond the glass with little to no grass. Banners of black and green wave in tattered shreds. It reminds him of something, but the thought escapes him, leaving behind flashes of armor across a field as red and gold clash against the black and green.

‘You don’t have to do this’

A door creaks open, the one that leads to him. It shouldn’t surprise him the room has a door, but it does. The noise of creaking metal against wood is familiar; like wooden swords clashing against training armor and a golden man who ruffles his hair. A figure emerges through the door, it’s not the same woman from before, no long dark locks but the eyes are the same piercing green.

The young man that enters is blonde like the golden man from memory but not quite the same. This man, an emerald, approaches carefully as if he’s liable to startle. A crown sits atop his head, black in metal with gems in a similar shade of green to the man’s eyes. The structure of his face is like the woman’s and father’s, or the golden man from before and maybe even his own.

What does he look like? His name and face were erased from his own memories long ago.

There’s a spark of recognition within his mind. He knows this man, this emerald of his, but the exact nature escapes him. Those green eyes never leave his own. Are his own eyes the same shade of green? Are they even green to begin with? The green eyes search his face for something but whatever it is, he doesn’t think the person finds it.

The man lowers his head, and his hands tighten into fists. The crown slides a little and he fights against invisible restraints to fix it. It doesn’t work; it never does; the space he occupies never seems to release him. Words, he learned long ago, never seem to work either.

“Mordred,” Emerald pleas; and that’s the name he’s settled on. It seems right for the young man in front of him. “It’s me, don’t you remember?”

There’s a desperation within the man’s voice, one that urges him to press deeper into his memories. He thinks the woman tried this once, back in the beginning, whenever that was. He tries to rack his mind for the man, for the gems he treasures dearly, but nothing new clicks into place. The man must see his failures within his eyes for his own fills with unshed tears.

“It’s okay.” Emerald whispers, but it doesn’t ring true. “I know you tried.”

He wants to ask the man for his name or to clarify who Mordred is. It does feel like the name is directed at him but he’s so unsure about everything else. Something deep within him wants to comfort the man; to pull him close and never let go.

Emerald is important to him, that much he’s sure of. He, Mordred?, wishes he could convey that much. Maybe that would bring them both comfort. He thinks Emerald can use some cheering up. The woman isn’t good at comfort. The little he remembers of her is filled with rash words and bubbling anger.

‘The throne should be mine, not yours. I’m the eldest and you’re nothing. Mordred shall be my heir, and it would serve you well to back his claim, Arther!’

That flash is new. At least, this is the first time he remembers seeing it. He thinks it’s about him, the woman, and the golden man. Is that about the place he’s supposed to rule? The thought fills him with unexpected dread. Betrayal. Death and suffering. A war with one obvious ending to everyone else. He shouldn’t have fought against uncle. He didn’t mean…

Emerald places a warm hand against his shoulders. It’s grounding in a way he hasn’t felt since… well, he can’t remember. There’s fear embedded deep within those green eyes. He doesn’t want to be the cause of his brother’s distress. A noise is heard, like a cat purring or a happier version of a sigh.

It takes him a moment to realize the sound emits from him.

Emerald seems to realize this too, his green eyes widening as a smile, both big and bright, overtakes his face. The sight fills him with a warmth he hasn’t felt in a long time. Like sunlight dancing upon his skin as armor gleams in the new day’s dawn. Laughter echoing across a rounded table full of friendships of unbreaking trust. A trust he betrayed, a trust he broke for unfounded claims.

“Mordred?” Emerald, Brother? - whispers as if this Mordred fellow is the most important being in his life. Maybe he is?

Emerald lets out a sigh. He rises from where they’re sitting, resting, well whatever they’re doing, and moves to the window. His back is towards Mordred; eyes fixed on the rubble outside. Emerald looks like a king, regal and powerful, and so much like uncle. The feeling of dread intensifies again.

‘You shouldn’t be like this.’

‘We should have been children not soldiers.’

‘I want to go home.’

He wants to shout. He wants to scream. He wants to cry and beg and claw his way out of this prison. He can’t do any of it. He can’t do anything anymore. He picked the wrong side. He backed the wrong ruler. He knows that now. He blinks back into awareness, staring back into Emerald’s eyes.

“Morgie?” A voice so raspy and faint calls out.

Emerald’s eyes widen. The tears fall from his face as Emerald rushes forward to embrace him. It’s only then, when Emerald’s arms wrap around him, that he realizes the voice was his own. Mordred, for that’s who he is, knows something must have changed for such awareness to find him again.

“Today’s quite the day for changes, brother. First those false rulers let eight of us out and now you’re speaking again.” Morgie laughs, genuine and full of life.

He’s so much bigger than what Mordred remembers. Before he was just a small child, barely measuring above Mordred’s waist. Now Morgie’s a fully grown man with a heavy crown upon his head. Mordred wonders how long mother grieved for him before passing along her ambitions to Morgie.

Mordred just hopes that this change can… What was he thinking about? And who is this man before him? The man’s name escapes his grasp. Mor? Gee? No, that’s not quite right?  It’s something shiny like a glistening gem. A gem so much like the three he lost…

A ruby red as dark as blood. A topaz as beautiful as gold. A sapphire as blue as royalty.

Claude Frollo

Claude Frollo is a pious man. His devotion to his faith has never wavered, never truly faltered despite the wicked temptations the Devil throws his way. But, as any true man of God, Claude Frollo does not fall for his soul is pure.  This Isle, full of lost souls, has been his biggest test of all.

Corruption around every corner, temptations lurking in the dark as heretics and false idols roam the streets. Twenty years have passed, and Claude is still the righteous man of God he’s always been. He knows why God has sent him here, to spread His gospel and rid this place of damnation of its evil.

While most of the Isle remains under the control of the damned, Claude has managed to carve out a nice sanctuary for his fellow devout practitioners of faith. His church is dedicated to helping pure souls free themselves from the wickedness of the Devil’s corruption.

His daughters, as pure as the day he saved them from damnation, are his sole focus. If he can save them, just as he saved himself, from the evils of this island, then Claude Frollo can truly repent in Heaven. The six of them, his innocent little angels, must be kept safe from the horrors of the Isle.

God will forgive Claude for sealing them off from the rest of the Isle. They are far too young to pass the trials of temptation. He must finish their lessons, ensure they stay good and pure in God’s eyes, before letting them pass their final test of faith.

His daughters are waiting for him when he enters their classroom. They’re all lined up from oldest to youngest with Gertrude, his Head Nun and their primary teacher, standing in front of the black board. All six of them are the perfect presentation of what a devout nun should be. There’s not a hint of seduction within their attire. Covered from head to toe in black, a white Cornette to keep their hair hidden from view; yes, none of his daughters shall grow up to be whores.

“Let us begin,” Claude announces to his daughters. “Recite your alphabets to me.”

The eldest of his daughters Chastity, at seventeen, named for purity, is the first to start. She takes a step forward, keeping her soft brown eyes firmly planted on the floor. Her lips; plump and pink and untouched by man, part allowing for her heavenly voice to grace his ears.

“A is for adultery. B is for blasphemy.” She pauses, running her moist tongue across her lips. Her salvia glistens against the pink, coating every inch of smooth skin. “C is for compliance and D is for damnation.”

He nods with approval as Chasity steps back against the blackboard. Claude gestures for the next set of letters. With a grace gifted by God, Temperance, freshly turned sixteen, moves forward. Her blue eyes, as clear as the sky, blink several times as a red flush enveloped her pale skin.

“E is for efficiently. F is for false heirs. G is for gratitude. H is for heretics.” Temperance’s eyes light up in excitement as she finishes her set.

With a small nod, Temperance steps back and Claudine steps forward. His Claudine, at fifteen, is the most obedient of his daughters. For a brief moment, before she speaks, her eyes meet his own. He can’t help the scowl that appears upon his face as he stares into the dark green of her eyes, green so similar to a certain witchcraft wielding heretic.

“I is for inner faith. J is for justice. K is for kindhearted. L is for loyalty.” Claudine finishes speaking, her voice is barely a whisper, just as a women’s voice should be.

He walks deeper into the room, eyeing the younger children. While he’s raised all six of his daughters from infancy, the remaining three of his daughters sometimes struggle with his teachings. They need extra guidance to truly master the lessons Claude has set for them. He stands right in front of Charity, reveling in the way her hazel eyes widen in fear. The sight fills him with pleasure.

“Well, girl, speak.” He orders.

“Yes father.” The fourteen-year-old steps forward into his space. “M is for master. N is for nothingness. O is for obedience. And P is for property.”

He pats her cheek, letting his fingertips caress the soft, fair skin. After he withdraws his hand, Charity stumbles back. In time she’ll prove to be a worthy servant of God. Claude walks away from her and stops in front of Faith.

Faith, named as such since it will take all the prayers in world to save her damned soul. Claude hasn’t given up on her yet, despite her shortcomings. After all, in the eleven years he’s raised her, Faith has made excellent progress in her repentance. The defiance that used to plague her green eyes has fully retreated in defeat.

Faith steps forward, her dull eyes never leave the floor. “Q is for quiet. R is for repent. S is for servitude. T is for trust in God.”

Faith steps back the moment she finishes speaking and Hope stumbles forward eager to share her knowledge. At eight Hope is the youngest of his girls and by far the most excited to learn his gospel. Her only fault, besides the blood in her veins, is her inability to look presentable. Even now, small strands of red hair escape the confides of her Cornette.

“Hope,” Claude Frollo chastises, “Tuck in your hair. You’re a woman of God and must look the part.”

Her small fat fingers struggle to force the red strands back inside her Cornette. For several minutes he watches in disgust as she fails to fix her mistake. Gertrude makes an attempt to help the girl but Claude waves her off. If she wants to be a child of God, if Hope wants his continued protection, then she must learn to do things for herself.

With one determined shove, Hope hides the loose strands of her hair from view. She looks at him, waiting for permission to speak. He surveys her body, looking for anything she may need to fix. This time he finds none. Claude nods his head and Hope begins to speak.

“U is for unholy. V is for virtue. W is for worthy. X is for xenial.”  

Claude moves back to the center of the room, “Now girls, tell me what Y and Z stand for”

In perfect practiced ease all six of his daughters say in unison, “Y is for yield to thy father and Z is for zero tolerance for sinners.”

Gaston

Gaston stands beside the railing, looking down upon the first floor of his hunting lodge. From his high vantage point, Gaston can see his wall of weaponry, the training ring in the middle of the room, and the hundreds of hunting trophies adorning the walls. He takes a moment to admire each of his alligator and crocodile heads he’s spent the last twenty years collecting.

This collection is nothing compared to the monuments he used to build with antlers, or the various woodland creatures that used to frame his walls. But the reptiles are the only noteworthy creatures one can hunt on the Isle and hunt them Gaston shall. To slay such a beast with nothing more than a knife or a gun is a true testament to one’s skill.

Which is exactly why Gaston uses the reptiles as the final test for his sons to pass. Any son worthy of bearing the Gaston name can slay such a beast. On the dawn of their tenth birthday Gaston brings them to the docks, hands them a knife or a rifle, and leaves. His sons know they have until sunset to return home with the corpse of whichever reptile they chose to hunt. So far only four of his sons have taken this trial.

Gil was the only one to fail.

Gaston had no doubt Gil would fail. By the time Gil turned ten, everyone knew he wouldn’t be enough to further the Gaston line. Gil was too soft and much too emotional, not like the rest of Gaston’s sons. But every litter has a dud and clearly Gil was his. Gaston knows that Six will prove himself worthy tomorrow and that Seven will do the same in four years’ time just as Two, Three, and Five did before them.

“Sir?” The shaky voice of Lefou’s son, Fool, calls out.

The boy shakes in place, his light brown hair barely hiding his brown eyes from view. Fool curls into himself as Gaston towers over him, his head darting straight towards the floor. It shouldn’t surprise Gaston that Lefou managed to make a child more useless than himself and yet Fool continues to defy Gaston’s expectations.

“What is it, Fool. I don’t have all day.” In precisely five minutes the eldest of his sons will begin their daily sparring match and Gaston is eager to see which of them will win.

While Two has had longer to hone his skills Three has a ruthlessness to him that makes him unpredictable in the ring. So far, Two has won all their matches but the time it takes to ensure his victories is getting longer and longer. It’s only a matter of time before Three surpasses Two.

Fool gulps audibly. “The guards are collecting children. I saw them with Five this morning.”

“And I care about this because?”

“They took Gil, sir! The captain said they’re going to Auradon to be redeemed.”

Gaston can’t help but laugh aloud. It’s a booming harsh sound that echoes across the room. Gil in Auradon? Please! If Auradon wanted one of his sons, they shouldn’t have picked the one known for disappointing him.

But maybe that’s what they were going for. A son of Gaston that was the least likely to kill their beast of a king. Two or Three wouldn’t hesitate to kill the Beast. Five, Six, and Seven may be a little too young to take on the Beast alone but they could kill the Beast’s dastardly spawn.

Why Belle would choose that monster over him is beyond Gaston. He’s a much better catch than that flea ridden fur bag! But no, Belle wants a monster for a husband and Auradon wants a Beast for a king. Gaston could have given her six perfect sons. He should be king of Auradon. That life should be his and not the Beast’s.

Gaston’s thoughts are rudely interrupted by the sound of a loud bang. Both he and Fool rush to look over the railing and towards the origin of the noise. Below them, in the middle of the ring, is Three sprawled out on the floor with Two towering over him. Their sparring match, it seems, has ended in Two’s victory once again.

Two looks up towards him, his brown hair just reaching past his ears and held in placed against his neck by glistening sweat. The red flush of his skin is barely visible through the slight tan Two has acquired in the limited Isle sun. All in all, Two is almost a perfect copy of what a Gaston should be. It’s such a shame the boy inherited his mother’s brown eyes and not Gaston’s incredible blues.

But Gaston doesn’t mind that too much, after all nothing is as perfect as the original and he’s number One.

Maleficent

News on the Royal Proclamation reached Maleficent before the rest of the Isle; mainly because as Queen of the Isle she controlled the spread of information. She knew the Prince of Auradon picked eight of their kids to be brought to their kingdom. She even knew exactly which eight had been chosen.

But Maleficent had plans, and she didn’t want the other four miscreants to have enough time to out plan her.

Not that she thought those pesky pirates could outdo her. She still is the Mistress of Evil after all. But Uma is quite the resourceful little sea witch and with enough time to plan it may end up hindering Mal in Auradon. Maleficent has no doubts, in the end, her precious pumpkin will reign victorious against the Sea Three.

It’s Malachite, or rather Hades, that she’s worried about.

The son of Hades- her son with Hades, is quite the busy little demigod. He’s amassed quite the following for his knack at creating fair contracts for the denizens of the Isle. But beyond that, the boy is a mystery. His allegiances, his goals all remain hidden from both the Isle and Maleficent.

She has no doubt in her mind that Hades is planning something. It’s all anyone of note on this forsaken rock does. Maleficent has been plotting this revenge scheme since Malice, and Malachite, were in diapers. However, Hades is a master at keeping his secrets and plans hidden until the very end. It’s a skill Malachite has no doubt inherited too.

They parted on bad terms, mainly because Maleficent wanted to hurt Hades. It seemed like a fun idea at the time, one upping a God, but now the decision might cost her everything. If Hades has a plan to bring Olympus to its knees, then there’s a chance Malachite may seek revenge against her for abandoning him all those years ago.

She should have kept them both, if only to prevent this exact moment. It wouldn’t matter what plans Hades has; both their children would be loyal to her. He would be nothing to either of them thus ensuring Maleficent’s plans succeed. Now her plan’s success will come down to which of them raised the better villain.

At least she has the opening advantage. Hades still doesn’t know Auradon is rounding up eight teenagers, much less his own. Her plan can still work if Malice and her minions do exactly as she demands. Someone, most likely Jafar, clears their throat. Maleficent turns away from her balcony view, her minions EQ, Cruella, and Jafar are ready and waiting alongside their children just as she told them to be.

“You four have been chosen to go to a different school, in Auradon.” She enjoys the gasps that her minions and their children release.

It’s Mal that recovers first. “What? I’m not going to some boarding school filled to the brim with prissy pink princesses!”

“And perfect princes!” The Evil Queen’s daughter squeals, interrupting Mal.

“Yeah, and I don’t do uniforms. Unless it’s leather. You feel me?” Jafar’s son jests.

“I read somewhere that they allow dogs in Auradon. Mom said they’re rabid pack animals who eat boys who don’t behave.” Cruella’s boy shakes, eyes glazing over as he no doubt imagines himself being ripped apart by dogs, only for Jafar’s son to bark loudly in his ears.

Ugh, teenaged boys. Maybe it’s a good thing she didn’t keep Malachite after all.

“Yeah mom, we’re not going.” Mal whines.

“Oh. You’re thinking small, pumpkin. It’s all about world domination.” She can taste the power just waiting for her. “You will go. You will find the Fairy Godmother and you will bring me back her magic wand. Easy-peasy.”

Mal’s eyes narrow, “What’s in it for us?”

Maleficent resists the urge to roll her eyes. “Matching thrones. Hers and hers crowns.”

Cruella’s son stutters out, “I think she meant us.” Both he and Mal gesture to their little group of villains.

She beckons Mal towards her. “It’s all about you and me, baby! Do you enjoy watching innocent people suffer?”

Well, yeah, I mean, who doesn’t…”

“Well, then get me the wand and you and I can see all that and so much more.” She interrupts. “And with that wand and my scepter, I will be able to bend both good and evil to my will!”

Our will.” Evil Queen points out. Right, them, her minions.

“Our will, our will.” Maleficent snaps her fingers, and Mal obediently turns back to her. “And if you refuse, you’re grounded for the rest of your life, missy.”

Mal tries to protest but Maleficent cuts her off. They have big plans to accomplish and several Auradonian guards on their way over, they have no time for disagreements. Maleficent channels the remnants of her power, stares deep into Mal’s eyes. For a moment their powers clash, attempting to prove which of them is strongest.

“Ugh. Fine. Whatever.” Mal says, once she’s lost, of course.

“I win.” Maleficent boasts.

“Evie. My little Evil-ette in training.” EQ calls out as her daughter happily skips over to her. “You just find yourself a prince with a big castle and a mother-in-law wing.”

“And lots and lots of mirrors” Both mother and daughter say in sync.

“No laughing, wrinkles.”

“Well, they’re not taking my Carlos, because I’d miss him too much.”

“Really mom?” The boy looks so hopeful it’s sickening.

“Yes. Who would touch up my roots? Fluff my fur and scrape the bunions off my feet?”

“Yeah, maybe a new school wouldn’t be the worst thing.” Maleficent almost pities the boy, neither one of his parents will ever love him like she does Mal.

“Carlos, they have dogs in Auradon.”

“No! I’m not going!”

Before Maleficent can argue with that, Jafar interrupts, “Well, Jay isn’t going either. I need him to stock the shelves in my store.” He then pulls Jay aside and they all know what Jafar’s really after. “What did you score?”

Jay begins pulling out trinkets and knickknacks he’s stuffed all across his body before ending with a dusty lamp. It bears a striking resemblance to a genie lamp and Maleficent knows this day has truly been derailed from her control. Hades wouldn’t have done this to her. Their plan would have been perfect.

“Dad, I already tried.” Jay sounds as exhausted as Maleficent feels as Jafar excitedly rubs the lamp before tossing it aside.

“Evie’s not going anywhere until we get rid of this unibrow. Hmm?” Maleficent thinks the poor girl won’t have any eyebrows left after EQ is done with her.

"What is wrong with you all. People used to cower at the mention of our names!” No wonder Auradon is taking their kids. They don’t think the Isle citizens pose any threat. “For twenty years, I have searched for a way off this island. For twenty years, they have robbed us from our revenge!”

She points at the Evil Queen. “Revenge against Snow White and her horrible little men!”

She turns towards Jafar. “Revenge on Aladdin and his bloated Genie!”

Lastly, she turns to Cruella. “Revenge on every sneaky Dalmatian that escaped your clutches!”

She tunes out Cruella’s crazy babble and the squeaking of her dog toy. “And I, Maleficent… The evilest of them all. I will finally have my revenge on Sleeping Beauty and her relentless little prince.”

“Villains, our day as come. EQ, give her the magic mirror” The Evil Queen hands off the mirror to Evie and explains how it works. Maleficent only needs to interrupt once to tack on how it can be used to find the wand.

“My spell book. My book. I need my… That book.” EQ gestures behind them. “Oh. Ah! The safe. The safe. Queen, help me. I never can figure this thing out.”

EQ opens the safe with ease and Maleficent removes her old spell book from it. She calls Mal over, who does so with a look of awe upon her face. Maleficent can relate; she too was mystified by the book when she first got it.

“There she is. It doesn’t work here, but it will in Auradon.” She takes a moment to reminisce with Evil Queen before turning her attention back to Mal. “And now, you will be making your own memories. By doing exactly as I tell you.” She hands the book off to Mal and tells EQ to close the safe.

Maleficent pulls Mal aside, bringing her onto their balcony. From here they can clearly see the glistening yellow barrier that separates them from the rest of the world. Beyond the bright blue waters, Auradon can be seen in its vibrant green and shining golds.

“The future of the free world rests on your shoulders. Don’t blow it.” It’s been two decades since she’s seen the proper beauty of the real world. Maleficent never realized how much she could miss nature. No wonder Hades hated the underworld so much. She too would bring the heavens to its knees for just one more glimpse of her Moors.

“Mother, there’s one last thing I need to do. There’s something I need to move so the VKs here won’t steal it.” Mal says, gesturing towards where Maleficent thinks the Core Four’s hidden base is.

“Just hurry back, the guards will be here soon.”

With that Mal leaves and her little minions begin to listen to their parents’ demands of wickedness to unleash onto Auradon. Their bags are already packed, and the plan has been revealed. Auradon will regret the day they ever made an enemy out of her. Hades may be a God, but he has nothing on a Dark Fey.

Notes:

Three Important things to note

1. I changed Mordred's parentage (if you know you know) to better fit the timeline of events I've created for this AU.
2. My sister was the one who named Fool, not me, but I had to keep it.
3. Part Nine will be the Descendants One rewrite you've all been waiting for.

Series this work belongs to: