Chapter Text
Once upon a time, during a time after all the happily-ever-afters, and perhaps even after the ever-afters after that, all the evil villains of the world were banished from the United Kingdom of Auradon and imprisoned on the Isle of the Lost. There, underneath a protective dome that kept all manner of enchantment out of their clutches, the terrible, the treacherous, the truly awful, and the severely sinister were cursed to live without the power of magic.
King Adam declared the villains exiled forever.
Forever, as it turns out, is quite a long time. Longer than an enchanted princess can sleep. Longer, even, than an imprisoned maiden's tower of golden hair. Longer than a week of being turned into a frog, and certainly much longer than waiting for a prince to finally get around to placing that glass slipper on your foot already.
Yes, forever is a long, long, long time.
Ten years, to be specific. Ten years that these legendary villains have been trapped on a floating prison of rock and rubble.
Okay, so you might say ten years isn't such a long time, considering; but for these conjurers and witches, viziers and sorcerers, evil queens and dark fairies, to live without magic was a sentence worse than death.
(And some of them were brought back from death, only to be placed on this island-so, um, they should know.)
Without their awesome powers to dominate and hypnotize, terrorize and threaten, create thunderclouds and lightning storms, transform and disguise their features, or lie and manipulate their way into getting exactly what they wanted, they were reduced to hardscrabble lives, earning a living selling and eating slop, scaring no one but their own minions, and stealing from each other. It was hard even for them to imagine they once had been great and powerful, these poisoners of forest apples and thieves of undersea voices, these usurpers of royal powers and owners of petulant mirrors.
Now, their lives were anything but powerful. Now, they were ordinary.
Dare it be said? Dull.
That isn't to say the citizens of the Isle were boring. They had ways they were able to combat the dull repetitiveness of their mundane lives.
Like now, for example. It was with great excitement and no small fanfare that the island gathered for a one-of-a-kind event: a six-year-old princess's wickedly wonderful birthday party. Wicked being something of a relative term under a dome that houses a bunch of powerless former villains.
In any event, a party it was.
It was the most magnificent celebration the isolated island and its banished citizens had ever seen, and tales of its gothic grandeur and obnoxious opulence would be told for years to come. The party to end all parties, this lavish occasion transformed the ramshackle bazaar and its rotting storefronts in the middle of the island into a spookily spectacular playground, full of ghostly lanterns and flickering candles.
Weeks before, a flock of vultures had circled the land, dropping invitations on every shabby doorstep and hovel so that every grubby little urchin from every corner of the island would be able to partake in this enchanting and extraordinary event.
Every little urchin on the island, that is, except for one malicious little fairy.
But this is not their story. Well, it is, but theirs' is not the story we will be focusing on. For while a blue-haired princess laughed in delight at the marvels before her and the purple-haired fae child's heart grew cold, the raven-haired daughter of an ex-Vizier and a Roma woman was forced to watch her mother die.
But this is not when our story begins, either. Our story begins ten years later, when an up-and-rising new royal makes his first official proclamation.
*****
Location: Castle Beast, The United Kingdoms of Auradon
Twenty years ago, King Beast united all the fairy-tale lands into one under his crown; and for the past two decades, he had ruled over its good citizens with strong and fair judgment, and only occasionally a tiny bit of his beastly temper. Belle had a calming influence on the hotheaded Beast: she was not just the love of his life but the pacifier of his moods, the voice of reason in a gathering storm, and the mother of his only child.
The jewel in the crown was their handsome son, fifteen-year-old Prince Ben. There had been no fairies at his christening to bestow gifts, perhaps because he did not need any. Ben was as handsome as his father, with his strong brow and chisel-cut cheekbones, but he had his mother's gentle eyes and keen intellect. He was a golden boy in every way, with a good heart and a winning spirit-captain of the tourney team, friend to all, destined to rule Auradon one day.
Isn't that always the way?
As was tradition, the firstborn child of the royal household would take the throne of Auradon at sixteen years of age. Beast and Belle were ready to retire. They were looking forward to long vacation cruises, early-bird dinners, and playing golf (Beast), bingo (Belle), and generally taking it easy. Besides, Belle had a stack of unread bedside reading so high, it threatened to topple over on a huffy Mrs. Potts when she came to take away the breakfast tray every morning.
They had complete faith that their son would be the one for the job. Benjamin Florian was more than capable. He was the epitome of what every prince should be. He was loyal, kind, understanding, and always thought of the needs of others before his own.
Maybe that is what made his next decision so easy.
As he gazed out the window, Ben couldn't help but wonder about those the United Kingdoms of Auradon deemed evil. The ones so bad they put them inside of a box, threw away the key, and then forgot all about them. It didn't seem fair to the young prince, and he didn't want to be remembered for continuing this cycle of neglect his forebearers seemed so keen on following.
He wanted things to change... for everyone to have a chance to do the right thing.
His mind was lifted from the cloud-covered island as he was stabbed with a needle for the umpteenth time. Ben turned his head to watch as Lumiere added the last pin in place to hold the measurements for the sleeve. When he was done, Lumiere switched sides so he could take measurements of Ben's head for the crown he would wear during his coronation.
His coronation was only five months away, and his heart beat a little faster at the thought of facing thousands of citizens and convincing them that the changes that would take place were necessary for a new era of Auradon.
He sighed at the thought, wallowing in his self-doubt until the sounds of doors opening interrupted his reverie, head turning towards the noise only for Lumiere to move his head back in place with a firm grip and another "Ah-ah."
King Adam made his way into the room, looking upon his son with a prideful smile. Or maybe that is just how he always looked, always smiling and happy and fulfilled, even on his billboards. All over Auradon, they read Good job being good! Keep it up! King Beast roars his approval!
"How is it possible that you are going to be crowned king next month?" his father asked, teasing him. "You're just a baby."
Ben's mother, the goodly Queen Belle, followed her husband into the room. She was as beautiful as the day she had come upon Beast's castle, and resplendent in a pretty yellow dress. If there were laugh lines around her eyes now, no one seemed to notice; and if anything, they only served to make her look more appealing.
The second he saw his mother, Ben found himself more at ease. He shy and quiet, his mother gentle and understanding, Ben and Belle had always been two like peas in a castle-garden pod-always preferring to have their noses in books rather than affairs of the state.
Belle smiled indulgently and nudged her husband in the side. "He's turning sixteen, dear."
"Sixteen? That's far too young to be crowned king. I didn't make a good decision until I was at least 42." Belle looked at her husband in disbelief. "Uh, you decided to marry me at 28," she pointed out.
"Ah," he nodded, "well it was either you or a teapot." Belle glared at her husband, not finding the joke funny. Ben had to laugh at his parents' antics. The Underworld would freeze over before his parents stopped bickering. However, as they teased each other, his thoughts began to drift back to the cloud-covered Isle, his father's previous words ringing in his ear.
He hoped this was a good decision.
"Mom, Dad -" Ben addressed them, cutting their play fight short. He tried to step down from the pedestal he was being measured on, but Lumiere held him in place. "I've chosen my first official proclamation." Belle and Adam looked at each other in excitement before turning back to Ben, proud smiles on their faces - always smiling...
"I've decided that the children of the Isle of the Lost," Ben paused nervously, "be given a chance to live here... in Auradon."
As he watched his parents' faces freeze, mouths hanging open in awkward smiles, Ben wondered if maybe he could have approached the topic more delicately. The silence was broken by the sound of a blanket falling, the once previously folded cloth now in disarray. Behind him, he could hear Lumiere gasp in shock. No longer able to keep quiet, Ben kept talking, walking over to his parents despite Lumiere's protesting.
"Every time I look out to the island, I feel like they've been abandoned."
"The children of our sworn enemies, living among us?" his father asked incredulously.
Ben ignored the beginnings of a growl, desperate to finish this conversation while he still had the courage. "We start out with a few at first, only the ones who need our help the most." Seeing his mother starting to come around, he continued, "I've already chosen them."
"Have you?" Beast asked, his voice - loud and accusing - came out as a growl.
Belle gently touched her husband's arm, careful of his current anger. "I gave you a second chance," she reminded him, gazing at him imploringly in the hope he would calm himself. She looked back at her son, taking in his nervous appearance. Willing to give Ben a chance as well, she asked, "Who are their parents?"
Ben smiled in relief. "Cruella de Vil, Jafar, Evil Queen, and..." Ben hesitated, not sure how his already angry father would take the last one. "Maleficent."
"Maleficent!" the king roared. "She is the worst villain in the land!"
"Dad, just hear me out," Ben pleaded.
"I won't hear of it. They are guilty of unspeakable crimes!" King Adam exclaimed.
"But their children are innocent," Ben yelled back. Taking a breath, "Don't you think they deserve a shot at being good?" Under the combined gazes of his wife and son, King Adam found himself being worn down from all sides. Feeling himself beginning to cave, he conceded.
"I suppose their children are innocent," he said with a sigh. King Adam extended his hand towards his son. Ben gazed down at his own, which looked like a small child's in comparison to his father's. Taking his father's hand in his, Ben found that he could no longer see his hand due to the enormous size of his father's. With a firm shake and a nod, King Adam strode out of the room, the floor shaking with each step.
Queen Belle looked relieved. "Well," she breathed, turning to her son. She brushed his collar down, picking at stay pieces of flint. Satisfied with his appearance, she took him in, the nervous posture and relief shining in his eyes.
"Well done," Belle congratulated, kissing his cheek before she too left the room. As the feather-light steps of his mother faded away, Ben turned his gaze back to the Isle. It looked like things were about to change for the citizens of Auradon.
Yes, he really hoped this was a good decision.