Rewind, Induce Amnesia

by Bisexual_chicken_nugget

Summary:

Rewind, induce amnesia
Deny the truth, it's easier
You're just confused, believe her
When she says "there's nothing there".

Do I rewind, induce amnesia?
Pretend I didn't see her?
Succumb to stupid fear
Or just believe in my heart?

Chapter 1: Little Miss Perfect

Dalia had heard about love for her whole life.

True love.

Her parents’ love.

And it wasn’t like she hated it. She’d always loved their story. She’d always loved the story of the princess seeking adventure and the street thief she’d fallen for, despite their… differences. They loved each other. Truly, deeply. They risked their lives for each other. They saved a country together. 

True love.

And she loved that story, always had. Since she was a little girl, she’d wandered up to her father and begged to hear the story “just one more time”. He acted it out, he dragged in her mother, who just barely tolerated it for the sake of her daughter giggling maniacally at her father’s feet.

Then, a little more than two months after her sixth birthday, her mother had given birth to Akim.

And suddenly her parents didn’t have time for stories anymore. 

She loved him, sure. From the second he was born, she’d been cooing and saying he was her favorite brother (though she never repeated that in front of Aziz)... but as he got older, the problems started. He’d have meltdowns if one thing went “wrong”, if one thing changed, if he didn’t like a texture or an activity or…

Autism.

That’s what they told her parents it was when they finally took him to a specialist at age two. 

Aziz would complain. He and Dalia had never gotten such special attention when they were little. Sure, they’d been twins. They had to share their parents’ affection, but even then, Akim had always been… special. In the eyes of their parents, he could simply get anything he wanted. Not because he was spoiled or better than Dalia or her brother, simply because it was easier to just… give him the routines he wanted. 

To cancel an outing with her because her little brother didn’t like his new tutor. To deal with Aziz yelling about missing tourney practice over a therapy appointment.

It was easier to turn their daughter into the perfect sister, the one who sat and just did what she was told, got good grades, drew something pretty, maybe.

She knew her parents hadn’t meant to do it. Her mother would still give her private lessons. Her father still showed her around the city… They just… sometimes had to choose Akim first. Had to push it off. Had to cancel it or apologize or tell her they’d go next time.

But she loved her brother.

Really, truly loved Akim.

The way he used to curl up quietly and just hold her because she was safe. The way he would make fun of the boys who tried to “win her over” (despite her mother outlawing arranged marriage) directly to their faces because he never fully understood why he shouldn’t. The way when she had a particularly bad day he would slip into her room and watch her draw, telling her how good she was.

But just once, even for just a little bit, she wanted someone who would treat her the way her parents treated her brother.

Like she was first.

Like she was someone’s true love.

Of course, that was a fantasy, something crafted by someone else, for someone else.

Even if, every once in a while, she’d go back to her room and redo an old drawing of her hand in someone else’s. The hand holding hers always changed, of course, to be better suited for the good princess of Agrabah. The artist who still did all her prayers.

And never ever questioned the idea that one day her prince would come.

~*~

Their parents had canceled again.

Her father had promised Aziz he’d drive him to tourney camp.

Her mother had promised she’d take her to the art show in Agrabah.

Akim had had a meltdown over his homework.

A servant had taken Aziz to camp and Dalia had gone to the show on her own.

The art was, of course, beautiful.

She would know, some of it was hers.

She hadn’t signed any of it, hadn’t broadcasted that the future Sultana, one of the royal twins, the dear, perfect princess of Agrabah had dared to enter her art with the commoners. What right did she have with her fancy paints and her studio and her expensive pencils to enter a competition with artists trying to make money with this?

But she’d felt obligated to on some deep level. Like if she didn’t, she was separating herself from her kingdom, her people.

So she’d submitted the one piece that she thought deserved a spot in the show: A pencil drawing of her kingdom drawn from her balcony.

“Are you lost?”

Dalia turned around, jumping away from the contact. “I– What?!”

The man just stared at her like he was afraid the sixteen-year-old princess would execute him for daring to touch her shoulder. “I– just– your—” He motioned to his head.

“My what?”

“Your hijab. It’s made with palace silk.”

“... Ah… I suppose it is.” She turned back to looking at the art around her.

He stared at her for a second longer before walking away to talk to his friends.

A guard escorted her out five minutes later after “getting concerned for her safety”.

She’d just nodded and, as always, obediently followed him out of her own city.

Because she was a good princess.

And she was a good daughter.

And she was a good sister.

Even as she curled beside her bed and started sobbing without even remembering to change or take off her hijab.

Even as Akim wandered into her room with a book of fun facts he’d gotten to calm him down.

Even as Aziz slammed his door closed down the hall, screaming about all the injustices of the world.

Dalia would be perfect.

Chapter 2: Ordinary

Ellie was having a very bad day.

For the record, a C was not her worst grade. Sure, she’d pretty confidently been branching into B+ territory for a while now, but this would bring her down a peg.

No, the problem with the grade was the rubric.

Grammar? Stunning. Worldbuilding? Fantastic. Character development? Above average.

But for the love of everything, this story in a creative writing class mustn’t involve an actual good romance!

The prompt had been simple: Write an eight-hundred-page story about your ideal romance. Easy. Pretty girl falls in love with a dorky writer, draft, edit, submit.

But at the top of the paper? 

Please talk to me. We need to discuss the content.

Auradon, the perfect little paradise that starved children on a magical island was giving a sixteen-year-old a C… for a well-written love story about falling in love with a woman.

Ellie did not talk to Ms. Fauna. The second the bell rang, she stood up and left.

Maybe it was petty. She’d been told she needed to work on that: Being petty. But at this point she didn’t have the time or energy to waste it talking to a summer school teacher about a grade she would have gotten if she’d just written about a man. 

Yeah, summer school.

Elsa’s daughter, descended from the fifth spirit of the forest, niece of the queen of Arendell, was in summer school.

She wasn’t even bad at school. She was smart. She understood the material. It was simply the idea of submitting to this repetitive, useless regime only to be spat out for some kind of work for a government you barely feel loyal to that made her stop and… refuse to do a majority of her assignments.

She wanted to be a writer. A writer didn’t need a degree, especially not one only earned by years of a system mercilessly running your creativity through a meat grinder until it loses originality or substance.

She really needed to start carrying a notebook on her.

It wasn’t like regular school had much to offer either. The thing about school in Auradon was that when you’re not… well… a cookie-cutter shaped skin suit of a human being, you’re seen as an outsider. A freak.

And really, Ellie didn’t mind. It was upsetting when she was younger to hear girls talk about her messy braid or Honeymarin’s clothes that Ellie had stolen from her closet to look more like her, but as she’d gotten older, she’d stopped really caring. She couldn’t change where her mother came from. She couldn’t change the culture she grew up in. She couldn’t change her personality or her interests… so why bother with the people who asked her to?

It was just… honestly? It was dumb. It wasn’t her job to make other people comfortable!

She huffed and laid down in the courtyard, turning her paper over in her hands.

She knew who it was about. She knew that if anyone had really truly read it, they’d see the artist with the long dresses and the gorgeous almond eyes. The kind girl who had once told her that her story was her favorite. The girl with a smile that made Ellie want to bring down a country, just to see her laugh.

That girl was not in summer school.

Obviously.

She took a deep breath, stretching and popping her back.

Well… one passing grade down, four more to go.

_^_

One thing about summer school was having to be stuck in a dorm, rather than going back to the Northuldra where she could sit by a fire and complain to Honeymarin about the injustices of the grading system. It wasn’t like talking to her mother was terribly difficult, it was just… easier to talk to Honeymarin. She was kinder and softer and much more lively than her mother. 

Okay, maybe she preferred Honeymarin.

It didn’t matter anyway. She couldn’t really talk to either of them, since she was stuck in a dorm room for the summer like some kind of academic criminal!

She threw herself onto her bed dramatically, silently reminiscing of all the injustices she was forced to face in this treacherous terrain of judgment and mediocrity.

She paused, pulled her notebook out of her desk, and wrote that down before collapsing back onto the mattress. She had a room to herself for the summer, due to the small number of kids enrolled, which meant complete silence as she forced herself through an hour and a half of math homework.

She almost regretted spending a year not turning a single assignment in. 

Almost.

The sudden jingle of her ringtone almost made her fall out of her chair.

“Shit! Dammit– Hey, Mom!”

“How’s school?”

“Uh– It’s uh… goin’! It’s goin’!”

“Ellie, we enrolled you in summer school so you could get your credits, not to punish you.”

“Yeah, I hate to break it to you, but the class of blond boys really feels like a punishment to me!”

“Ellie…”

Ellie knew that voice. Her mother used it often when Ellie had done or said something too… crazy or rebellious.

Like the time she’d set off a fire alarm in the third grade to get out of turning in a history essay she hadn’t done.

Or the time she’d cussed at a teacher who’d told her to sit down and be quiet.

Or the time she’d gotten dress coded for cropping her shirt at school.

…

Come to think of it, she used that tone a lot.

“Mom, I swear to you, my grades are going up.”

She sighed. “I know, Ellie, I just… worry about you.”

Ellie didn’t ask why.

She had no friends, terrible grades, spent most of her time alone, never talked about her feelings, lashed out at school, rebelled at every turn, and refused to do anything but write stories about people who didn’t exist…

She would be worried too.

“I’m… I’m fine, Mom.”

“Okay… I love you, Ellie.”

“Yeah. Love you too. Tell Honeymarin I love her, as well!”

She laughed, just slightly. “Will do.”

And then she hung up.

And Ellie was alone yet again. 

Chapter 3: Straight Hair, Straight A’s, Straight Forward

Aziz always made sure the whole family knew when he got home. Ever since he was seven, realizing the world didn’t at least half-revolve around him anymore, he’d storm into the room, announce his arrival loudly, and throw himself onto a couch.

Dalia had always found his behavior childish, but as she’d gotten older, she’d started to understand it. While she was content to let Akim have his way, Aziz still missed the parents who used to prioritize him. He missed not having to announce his arrival to be welcomed.

Dalia took the seat next to him. “How was camp?”

“Fine. Have you heard what Ben’s planning on doing?”

“No, I don’t think so…”

He just scoffed as their parents came into the room.

“How–”

“They're bringing villain kids here. To Auradon.”

The room went quiet.

“Well… isn’t that a good thing?” Dalia asked, almost to herself. “They didn’t do anything wrong–”

“Yeah, except for being raised by their parents , Dalia! What do you think Jafar is teaching his son, huh? Good manners?!” He stood up, glaring accusingly at their parents. “The son of the man who tried to murder both of you is going to my school! He’s going to be going to classes with Dalia! You remember what that man tried to do to you, right?! You think we’ll be safe?!”

“Aziz–”

“What?!” he snapped, turning all his fury on their father. “Are you going to convince me that he’ll be this kind and generous little goodie two-shoes?! Not everyone is as perfect as your little girl!” With that, he stormed out of the room.

Her mother tried to follow him, but was stopped by her father. “I’ll talk to him.” He pressed a kiss to her temple before walking off after Dalia’s twin brother.

“Dalia–”

“I… I need to… get ready for school.”

“Dalia…”

For the first time in years, Dalia didn’t listen.

~*~

Dalia didn’t really have friends, not the kind she could talk to about her problems. She had… conditional friends. Most of the girls she tended to hang out with only tolerated her because of “diversity points” or the desire to have a friend who did anything they asked. She’d gone through quite a few friends like that. Audrey Rose had been one of them before she’d grown up and started making fun of her.

But the lack of real friends gave her time.

Usually, she used that time for art or talking to Akim or studying, but the week and a half before starting school at Auradon Prep was filled with one thing: The Isle of the Lost.

The strange thing was that most of the information she could find amounted to “it’s a prison for the villains so that they don’t hurt the heroes”, not mentioning what made it “so awful”.

What could the Isle of the Lost possibly have that made it a better option than prison? She heard they didn’t have magic, but the mainland didn’t either. It was “retired”. There was a barrier, but that was mostly just to keep them inside.

From what she could find, the Isle of the Lost was just… an island full of villains, which didn’t make sense. Auradon had prisons. Why not use them? Why put every villain in a place where there’s a chance they could work together and escape? She supposed it might have had something to do with the fact that her parents hadn’t given Agrabah over to King Beast and Queen Belle, but they’d been busy for the past week convincing Akim that he was ten and he needed to start going to school at some point.

“Why are you looking up that place anyway?”

“Because it doesn’t make sense!”

Aziz snorted. “What about it? Putting people in prison?”

“It’s not a prison, Aziz. A prison has walls and guards. This only has a barrier, and we expect it to just… what? Work?”

“Uh… yeah. They can’t get out!”

“But what makes it so bad? Isn’t the whole point of not having a prison to have a worse punishment?”

Aziz shrugged. “You care too much.”

She scowled at him. “You’re not even a little concerned?”

He just shot her a look. “I’m concerned that my sister is likely to talk to a guy that might kill her or… you know… be a villain .”

“He’s the same age as us!”

“So?”

“So, there’s no way he’s going to hurt me!”

“You don’t know that! Maybe, on the Isle, they teach kids how to steal and kill people–”

“You’re being ridiculous. You weren’t this awful before becoming friends with Chad and his tourney guys!”

“Those guys actually treat me like I’m worth more than a silent chariot ride, Dalia.”

“They make fun of Akim.”

“Well, maybe sometimes he needs to be made fun of!”

Dalia took a deep breath and closed her sketchbook. “I’m going to go.”

“You know I’m right!”

“No, I don’t.”

She didn’t even slam the door behind her.

~*~

“It will be fun! You’ll see!”

Akim just threw his shirt across the room and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I don’t want to go!”

“Why not?”

“They’ll make fun of me!”

“How do you know that?”

He just stomped his feet against the floor.

“That’s not an answer, Akim.”

“Yes it is!” He threw one of his stuffed animals at Dalia’s head.

“Akim, you know not to do that.”

“You’re making me mad!”

“How?”

“You’re making me go to school !”

“What if you don’t go to school now, and when you do go, everyone is super far ahead of you? Everyone will have lots of friends–”

“I’m not gonna make any friends, Dalia!”

She sighed, folding one of his shirts.

He tore it out of her hands. 

“Akim!”

“I’m not going!”

“That’s not your choice!”

Akim froze as Dalia took a deep breath. She didn’t yell, not if she could help it. Most of the time, she did what she could to be the calm presence in her little brother’s life.

Akim went quiet, staring at her with a kind of angry fear.

“You’re going. You don’t get to decide that. Our parents do. All of us go through hard things, you are not exempt because it is harder for you!” She took the shirt back, folded it and stuffed it into his suitcase. “You’re going to get through this because that’s what everyone else is doing.”

She made the mistake of looking up as her little brother started crying.

“Akim…” 

He got up and ran out of his room, calling for their mother. She wouldn’t yell at Dalia, she knew that. Akim did. He knew that all their mother would do was comfort him and tell him it was okay. That didn’t stop Dalia from throwing a pair of her brother’s pajama pants on the ground and leaving the room. She wasn’t supposed to be mad. She was kind. That was what she was good for. Calm and good and loving conversations with her overly-sensitive brother or just and level-headed conversations with the rebellious one.

She threw herself onto her bed and just started crying.

Because anger wasn’t allowed.

Chapter 4: I Notice How She Looks at Me

Saying school wasn’t fun would be such a severe understatement that Ellie almost had to laugh. The concept of education itself was not something she had a problem with. In fact, she genuinely enjoyed learning. It was the idea of government enforcement that sucked all the joy out of it. Sure, she could do complex multiplication, but for what? To make the big men upstairs happy? Absolutely not! She’d rather write her cute little stories about cute little lesbians having cute little… relationships… 

But, for the first time since she’d been maybe six, she was genuinely interested in school. This year, they were getting transfers.

Villain transfers.

From the Isle of the Lost. 

They were supposed to “welcome them with open arms”, which Ellie had learned roughly translated to “clap politely when you see something that makes you uncomfortable”.

And… these kids made them uncomfortable.

Two boys tumbled out of the car, fighting over some kind of scarf Ellie genuinely couldn’t care less about. The girls that exited out the other side of the car both had bright-dyed hair. One was purple, the other blue. Ellie supposed that might be an Isle thing (which would explain why hair dye was against Auradon Prep dress code). 

But what Ellie noticed wasn’t the fight, or even the faint dusty red stains on the clothes of all four of them that could only be blood. No, what she noticed was… everything else. The almost gaunt face of the smaller boy who was shaking like he’d forgotten how to stop, the reddish bruises on the neck of the bigger boy as well as dark purple ones down his arms, the starving frame of the blue-haired girl, the way there were obvious patches of purple hair missing that had been hastily covered by a new haircut…

These four were Ellie’s age and all the people around her could talk about was their “behavior”. She wanted to scream and scold all of them, demanding to know how they could be so comfortable watching Audrey bully a stick-thin girl with a fake smile.

She stayed for maybe a few seconds longer. Enough for Fairy Godmother to disperse them, smiling the way she always did when someone asked a question she didn’t want to answer.

_^_

The first day of school came with the realization that all the classes taken by the VKs were… “exclusive”.

Or classes Ellie wasn’t in due to… academics.

Curse her rebellious nature and healthy upbringing.

These thoughts caused her to run into multiple people throughout the day (a common occurrence). One had been some brawny boy in tourney–Herkie or something–, another had been Ruby, who had thankfully pinned her hair up for at least the first day of school.

The last two?

“Hey, could you watch where you’re going?!”

Ellie was already picking up the dropped supplies. “Sorry, I was–”

“Oh, don’t, princess!”

She startled and looked up.

The daughter of Maleficent scowled back at her.

“H–”

“Give that to me!” she yanked the books out of her hands. “And don’t talk to me… or my friends! Just mind your business!”

“I–”

Mal was already storming away into a huddle with Evie.

“Sorry?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just ran into someone. I don’t look where I’m going.” She took the hand extended to her and froze.

Dalia smiled at her, looking confused. “You look scared. Nobody threatened you, did they?”

“Uh… I– No!” Ellie took a deep breath, coughing when she got it too fast.

“Oh–”

“No, no, I’m fine just… dumb!”

“Oh…”

“Yeah, I should let go of your hand, shouldn’t I!”

“... Yeah?”

Ellie did not remove her hand from Dalia’s. Instead, she swung the arm connected to the offending hand. “I’m… awkward.”

“I… can tell.” She gently took her hand away, generously opting not to wipe off the sweat until after Ellie looked away. “So you’re okay?”

“Yeah, just… ran into someone. You know… I wasn’t paying attention.”

“... Okay… Bye.” The hijabi princess turned and walked away just a little too fast. 

Ellie looked down at her books and sighed. “I deserve that.”

_^_

The first day of school was usually a lot of work. Ellie knew that. She always had everything figured out and perfectly planned her procrastination to pretend that she didn’t have the time to do her work in between her important extracurriculars and… important extracurriculars.

Like how right now she was too busy to do her math homework because of the pressing need to read… important literature.

She had a dorm room to herself. It was nice if she ignored the fact that she was only alone because for another year in a row, a parent had demanded that their children not share a room with her.

Because Ellie was a problem. 

She had been manageable in maybe freshman year, but since then? She became the girl who spent her summers earning back credits and school years avoiding work with… smut.

Which was what she was doing now.

Like usual, it was less than well-written and more a way to distract herself from… everything. She still couldn’t get the image of those four kids out of her head. She couldn’t stop thinking about Mal’s threats. And… she couldn’t stop thinking about Dalia.

Not in the way the horny reader insert couldn’t stop thinking about the sexy siren that had inexplicably fallen head over heels for her (emphasis on the “head”), but in the way that princesses couldn’t stop thinking about the princes they met one time five minutes prior.

Even if Ellie had met Dalia… many many years prior. They’d never actually been friends, just… acquaintances that occasionally looked at each other’s art. Back in elementary, the teacher used to have the class pass around their short stories and write little comments. Dalia always left real ones, rather than the generic “I skimmed it and think you’re weird” flavored ones. Once, she’d written “I like how you write the first kiss. It sounds lovely.” Ellie had kept that paper in her drawer by her bed to look at whenever she started doubting her abilities. And Dalia’s art? Ellie had been going to the school art shows for years and every year her art was infinitely better than everyone else’s. She always made sure to compliment it. Dalia always thanked her and walked away.

She supposed the walking away was fair.

Not in the “I’m such a social outcast, no one likes me boo hoo” way, more in the “she’s so religious she fasts for Ramadan, wears a hijab, and prays the correct times every day while I wear a crop top, ripped jeans, and doc martins in public” way.

Ellie was not the girl Dalia would want to hang out with, much less date. That was probably why Ellie spent most of her time reading about unrealistic women fingering Y/N in a library while telling her to stay quiet. She wasn’t actually the kind of girl that the girl she liked would want… if she even… wanted a girl.

Fortunately for both Ellie and Y/N, after eleven paragraphs and around eight hundred words of edging, the sexy siren let Y/N orgasm and Ellie closed the computer.

Day one.

And she was already reading about library sex.

Great.

Chapter 5: Straight Path, I Don't Cut Corners

Aziz always avoided Dalia when it came to school. As long as he could help it, he pretended he was an only child. That was normally fine to her. She could… be her own person. She didn’t have to be the sister of a tourney player (even if he wasn’t the best player on the team) and she didn’t have to be the sister of “the disabled kid”. She could just be… Dalia. An outcast in her own right. The artist with religion and a weird fluttery feeling every time she dared to talk to the daughter of Elsa.

A knock at the door startled her into tipping her paint water onto the floor. “Who is it?”

Her twin brother stormed into the room.

“Aziz–”

“They let him on the team!”

“... What?”

“Both of them! The Isle boys? They’re on the tourney team!”

“Good for them.”

“But terrible for me! Dalia, they are diversity spots! They’re just gonna drop the stupid violent one into every game and take the people who actually care out! He doesn’t. Know. The rules!”

“Then why don’t you teach him? I’m sure you know all of them.”

He glared at her. 

“What? If you’re so mad–”

“Why do I even talk to you?!”

“You usually don’t.”

He rolled his eyes and threw himself on her bed. “This country is so doomed.”

“If you say so.”

“The VKs literally spent all day bullying people! Someone broke into the museum last night! They are going to destroy Auradon!”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“You talk to Akim all day!”

“You talk to Chad Charming all day!”

“At least he has taste!”

“In what, toothpaste?”

“Oh, imagine our parents hearing you can be mean! Might give them a heart attack! Their good little girl isn’t so perfect anymore, is she?”

“What are you so angry about?!”

Aziz sat up, just staring at her like she’d asked something stupid. “Are you serious?” He scoffed. “Akim is their little boy who always needs them. He always needs something. Fine, whatever. But then you just… go along with it. You’re their perfect little princess. You don’t fight. You don’t… care. How does none of this bother you?! He ruined our lives!”

“He did not–”

“Then what do you call being hit by a plate because your little brother doesn’t like how a food feels?! What do you call your father breaking his promise that he made four months out to go and watch professional tourney, only to cancel last minute because his favorite son was crying about some stupid toy?! What do you call watching your parents ignore everything you do because your milestones just aren’t as impressive as your re–”

“Don’t. Don’t you dare say it.”

“I’m right.”

“You’re not. You’re not right about him. You’re not right about those VKs. You’re not right about me. You’re not right about your own friends.”

Aziz stormed over to her, standing directly in front of her as he spat out, “you’re not perfect. Stop trying to be a saint. You’re just my sister.”

He slammed the door on his way out.

~*~

Dalia had always been diligent with her prayers. As a young girl, she’d always watch her grandfather while he was going through the motions of prayer, trying to copy him to the best of her ability. Then, as Akim got older, she had less time to be “Dalia, the curious child” and more time to be “Dalia, the devout Muslim”. It gave her something that wasn’t her brothers or her art or even her country. It was a tie to something greater. Something with structure and grace and rules and kindness.

Twilight had just ended when she laid the mat on the floor.

She had cleansed herself the moment Aziz had left (for prayer, though it had helped her to get rid of the earlier conversation) and rewrapped her hijab.

She let herself fall into the prayer, let herself ignore the world around her. She forgot, just for a moment, about all of Aziz’s anger or the VKs or that girl, it was just her and the words she knew like her own name. Just her. Just the words. Just Allah. 

For what felt like the first time in years (though, truly, it had only been hours), she got six minutes of peace. Both internal and external. For all of her anger at Aziz… he was right. Dalia wasn’t a saint. She wasn’t perfect. She was trying to be… and that didn’t hurt anyone. She was becoming the best version of herself that there was to offer. Why was that so awful? It made her feel safe…

No, she wasn’t supposed to be angry. She was a good, kind… 

She sighed, sitting beside her bed and gently pulling the fabric from her head, allowing her raven black curls to fall into their rightful place over her shoulders.

“What do I do?” She turned the pink material over and over and over in her hands. No friends were there to come to her aid. Akim hadn’t even let her hug him goodbye, just glared at her and stormed away. Aziz was yelling at her… “What do you want me to do?”

She waited.

Nothing.

Just the silent hum of her dorm room and the suffocating acknowledgement of loneliness.

The princess of Agrabah went to sleep that night redrawing that same hand in hers’. Over and over and over…

~*~

“Hey–”

Ellie somehow dropped every book on her desk. “Hi!”

Dalia couldn’t help it. She laughed. 

Ellie smiled proudly.

“You smiled!”

“I always smile!”

Ellie just shrugged. “So uh… other than telling me my books were in the perfect spot to fall off my desk, why have graced me with your presence?”

Dalia was starting to notice just how much she was trying not to laugh. “I just wanted to… apologize for yesterday–”

“Oh, no, please… don’t, I’m an actual walking disaster. It’s why I have a private dorm! No one wants to room with me!” She paused, then laughed, possibly at herself. “No, you’re fine. I am… an actual bomb, at this point. It didn’t even bother me!”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it happens a lot. I’m used to it!”

“Oh, thank goodness. That makes me feel so much better. I love your hair today!”

“... Oh.”

She barely noticed the way Ellie reached to pull her messy, white blonde braid over her shoulder, staring at it like it was a miracle and a curse all at once as she walked back to her seat. 

Perfect.

Notes:

Hey, so sorry for not posting in ever. I was hit with a bout of unmotivated depression (still ongoing, but I persevere) right before I went on vacation without my computer. Also thanks for the love? This is insane, did not expect this much love for a first-try fic with these two. Thank you and apologies <3

Chapter 6: But I Pretend That I Don't See

It started with the hair.

As all good stories did. 

Jane came out of a bathroom with suddenly luscious locks. Then, Lonnie came out of Evie and Mal’s dorm room with “cool” hair. Then, every girl on campus started begging for the daughter of Maleficent to do their hair. Ellie supposed it was fair, but she couldn’t help but notice that this wasn’t the same girl who had arrived with hair torn off her scalp and ribs showing through her shirts. She looked… happier… healthier… they all did.

And maybe Ellie didn’t want to change her hair, but she was glad other girls had started to see the new villain kids as less of a danger and more as… well, technically underpaid hair stylists, but at least they weren’t underfed.

Besides, for the past few weeks, Ellie had started wearing her hair the exact same way.

Every.

Single.

Day.

A messy, single braid down her back. 

Which, in no way, had anything to do with a certain Arabian princess, for the record.

…

Okay, maybe a little.

She hadn’t even really talked to Dalia since then. The princess spent most of her time talking to other royals and artists, most of which tended to tease her or make fun of her to her face.

Dalia didn’t seem to mind. 

Ellie ignored it.

They weren’t friends, anyway. 

Class proceeded the way it usually did. The teacher rambled about history (boring), Dalia answered most of the questions, Ellie started imagining a date with the girl of her dreams.

First, they’d go for a walk, talking about all of the things they had in common (because they had to have things in common! They were both artists!). Then, they’d end up at a spot Ellie had set up for a picnic and Dalia would thank her for being so considerate of her food preferences. Finally, Ellie would walk her back and be allowed to hold her hand before Dalia kissed her on the cheek to say goodbye…

“Are you listening, Ellie?”

She fell out of her chair in her rush to snap to attention.

Some of the preppy kids started giggling.

She stuck her tongue out.

Dalia laughed behind her hand and went back to her work.

“Ellie!”

“Sorry Miss–”

“Please leave this class, you are being a disruption.”

“Excuse–”

“Do not argue with me!”

The classroom was silent as she shoved her books into her bag and stormed out of the room, platinum blonde braid swinging behind her.

_^_

“It’s barely been a week!”

“I know, Mom.”

“You talked back to a teacher?”

“I know , Mom.”

“I’m trying–”

“Mom!” She took a deep breath. “I know.”

She heard an answering sigh from the other line. Her mother’s was a lot less disappointed than Ellie’s. It sounded… tired.

She’d spent a lot of time cleaning up after her disaster of a daughter.

“I’m sorry, Mom.”

“It’s not your fault. You’re just…”

“Scatter brained.”

“No–”

“Ditzy!”

“Ellie…”

“Problematic?”

“Different, Ellie.”

Silence.

“I… put one of my stories in a contest this morning. They said I’ll have the results next month?”

“That’s… great, Ellie.”

“... Thanks.”

“I love you. You know that, right?”

“Yeah! Yeah, Mom! I know! I… I know!”

“Good.”

“Yeah.”

Her mother took a deep enough breath that Ellie could hear it through the phone. “I have to go. Please just–”

“I know! Stay out of trouble!”

“... Take care of yourself.”

She hung up.

Ellie looked at the screen on her phone. The one that read “call ended” with the picture of her and her mother when Ellie was around three. They’d gone ice skating. Honeymarin had taken the picture. Her mother was guiding her across the ice. 

She wasn’t doing much guiding anymore.

She dropped her phone on her mattress, taking her braid out so that her hair fell across her shoulders, tangled and wild rather than contained and presentable.

She couldn’t help but think that maybe that was why Dalia had complimented it. 

Take care of yourself .

She lifted up her mattress.

Roses really were such a romantic flower.

Notes:

Yeah, Ellie's doing well... Anyway! Hi! It's been a while T-T Sorry about that I've been... very off and also focused on other projects/avoiding this because I didn't know what to write but I'm back! Also! Today is Dalia and Aziz's birthdays! Happy July 8th! Okay, yeah, enjoy. I'm actually so happy that you guys have been liking this??? Like it's insane??? Love you guys!

Chapter 7: I Make a Point to be on Time

Notes:

The following chapter has not been beta read and was written on sleep deprivation and Arcane s2 music. You have been warned

Dalia didn’t really care for tourney. She really only went to the big games, since those were the only ones her parents would actually attend. Akim would usually sit off to the side with headphones on, completely distracting her from what was happening on the field with a new collection of “fun facts” he just had to share.

Her mother and father always complimented her patience.

So she kept listening to her little brother ramble on and on and on…

But this time, she went because of the new kids on the team: Jay and Carlos. The VKs. The ones Aziz had been so mad about. It wasn’t that she was going to ogle them (which most girls in her year had started doing to Jay), just… to prove that her brother was wrong. That they were, in fact, good people and good teammates.

The game itself was uneventful, aside from the common brutality of the sport (a major contributing factor in her displeasure for watching it), though the end had led to… a large number of high pitched squeals from otherwise level-headed girls.

The knights won, obviously. Why wouldn’t they? As Aziz loved to point out, they were “the best team in the country”.  But instead of a message from the coach or the announcer or… anyone qualified to speak after a sports victory, Ben stole the microphone and walked onto the stage.

One of the girls next to her gasped and started giggling.

He paused for a long time just… surveying the stands before shouting, “give me an M!”

M .

“Give me an A!”

A.

“Give me an L!”

L.

“What’s that spell?”

Mal.

Dalia watched as Audrey, looking hurt and confused, ran off the field and the band started playing for a girl Ben… barely knew.

She just watched. Watched as Mal was slathered in attention and Ben’s sweaty jersey. Watched as Audrey loudly proclaimed that she would be going to the coronation with Chad Charming. Watched as Ben asked Mal to accompany him on the same date.

Something felt wrong.

But as she watched them smile, watched Audrey and Chad storm off, she took a deep breath and just… decided to stay out of it.

Focus on herself.

On being perfect.

Focus on the boy who had asked her to the coronation after the game–Bobby, Robin Hood’s son. She’d only agreed because, unlike the last eight boys who had asked, he’d given her the common courtesy of not touching her and agreeing not to try. 

A surprisingly sweet gesture, especially since, as he pointed out, both their dads were thieves.

“Maybe it’s not ‘meant to be’, but it’s kind of cool, right?”

She’d nodded, accepted the invitation, and politely smiled.

Aziz had waited until he left before running up behind her, causing her to scream and smack his arm. He’d just laughed.

“It’s not funny!”

“It’s a little funny. Are you always that… cold when guys ask you out?”

“I wasn’t cold, I was polite.”

“Yeah, okay. I could ask Elsa’s freaky daughter. I bet she knows what cold feels like!”

“Shut up!”

“Why? You don’t talk to her!”

“It’s not nice to call people freaky!”

“Okay? Not exactly ‘nice’ to nod any time a guy tries to make a pass at you either, but I guess I’m the cruel one.”

“You are cruel, Aziz.”

“Yeah, okay. I’m gonna go separate with my friends and you go… I don’t know… draw some.”

“You’re–”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. ‘Cruel’.” He grinned, that devilish grin that made him look so much like their father, and ran off. 

~*~

She should’ve ignored the girl sitting on top of the statue on the front lawn. Either that or called campus security.

But she didn’t.

Something about her conversations with her twin brother always made her so willing to bend the rules.

“What are you doing?”

The girl shrugged. Her hair was in a braid falling messily and elegantly down the statue until it became almost phallic. The girl was hanging upside-down, legs around the golden king's neck, arms flung limply down like her hair. “I dunno… letting go, I guess.”

“Of what?”

She paused for a very long time. “Have you ever loved someone or… I dunno… felt so innately tied to someone that the very thought of never seeing them again fuels your innate desire for justice?”

“I… don’t think so, no.”

“Yeah…”

“Have you?”

The girl snorted. “What do you think I’m trying to let go of?”

Dalia thought for a moment. “I don’t think you should let go of love.”

“I think you should. If it hurts. If it changes you.”

“Sometimes people change for the better.”

“And sometimes people change to appeal to someone who never would’ve loved them the way they were.”

“That’s… strangely beautiful.”

“Thanks, I write.”

“I draw.”

“Yeah, I know. I see your art. It’s… great.”

“Thank you! I… I love your hair.”

“Yeah, I know. You’ve said.”

“I… I didn’t–”

“Yeah… Yeah, I’m figuring that out.” She pulled herself up and slid down the statue, looking Dalia over. “I guess no one can be perfect.”

“I… Do I know you?”

She sighed. “My name is Ellie. My mother is named Elsa. You don’t know any of that.”

“No… I don’t.” She paused. “I’ve talked to you before! You write those love stories!” 

Ellie seemed to smile despite herself. “Yeah.”

“I… remember them being beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re beautiful too. Not just your hair I… I’m so sorry for… I don’t know. I’m just–”

“No, you’re fine!” Her bright smile was back. Dalia was starting to really recognize her again. “I’m just… super dramatic! Inspiration, you know! It’s crazy! Hey, tell your brother I said congrats on the big game!”

“Oh! Yeah, of course…”

And Ellie just… walked away, bouncing slightly, that lovely braid swinging gracefully with every step.

Chapter 8: It’s Easier if I Let the Tension Subside

Ellie had never wanted to be angry once in her life. 

Like… she got angry… often, but she never wanted to be angry! It was unpleasant, commonly for any unfortunate souls around her. She usually got chastised for her anger issues and “rebellious nature”, but she’d never actually… not hated but… disliked? No… She’d never realized how… imperfect Dalia was. Not only did she barely notice her, which Ellie… knew and told herself she understood, but she actively covered it up with a fake compliment and that stupid gorgeous smile.

She wanted, so desperately, to be upset. 

But she was just… sad.

Just a disappointed, lonely lesbian alone in her room, realizing her dream girl was not at all a dream. 

But somehow, she didn’t hate her! The crush was still there!

The injustice of the world!

And what made it even more unfair?

Dalia cornered her in the hallway the next day… apologizing… and claiming that she actually… appreciated being called out?

What was wrong with her? 

Ellie had, of course (useless lesbian that she was), forgiven her and said she hadn’t even cared, really and that she was just monologing for the bit (which approximately translated to “I thought that monologue through fifteen different ways before delivering it and thirty-six times afterwards while screaming into a pillow and debating a transfer”). Dalia, however, had denied the acceptance. She’d said she was wrong, that she’d been hearing all those things from her twin brother for months and that hearing it from someone else really got her thinking about all the ways she was wrong about… well… apparently everything?

Ellie pinched herself ten times during that conversation. Hard. 

And then, because of course she did, she just… went to class afterwards. 

Which was where she learned that Bobby Hood was going with her to the coronation.

… Fantastic.

Apparently, he’d asked her out after the game, when Ellie had been trying to climb on top of the statue of King Beast. Her time management skills were really… impeccable, truly.

She wasn’t mad at him. Dalia could go to that coronation with anyone she wanted! It was… fine. 

She would be fine.

She just… had to fail this test first…

And maybe find a date.

It wasn’t even that she wanted to make Dalia jealous. That idea was sincerely laughable. No, she just wanted someone to go with to feel less like… herself. Less like Ellie, that dreamy-eyed lesbian loner and more… the popular, pretty, dreamer girl she wanted to see herself as. Of course, that meant she’d have to go with a boy to a coronation she cared nothing about, but… it would be worth it… to be normal.

Just once.

Not lonely.

Not awkward.

Not sad. 

Not falling.

Not… Ellie.

Because Ellie didn’t have friends, Ellie didn’t have a relationship, Ellie wasn’t passing her classes. 

So maybe Ellie just… had to be quiet, just for a little bit. Just for the coronation. Maybe she could put down her notepad and pencil for one night and nothing would go wrong.

Just maybe.

Notes:

Gang, that writers block was so insanely bad omg T-T But I'm ~back~ and that means Ellie angst! Isn't that... that's what we were waiting for. The next chapter should come out much sooner than this one did but, that could be a lie. Uhm... I'm so glad you guys are liking this? This is insane. Love you all! <3

Chapter 9: Head of the Student Council

It had just been a picnic.

Now the entire school had turned against the VKs, Chad Charming was apparently an “icon” for “standing up to them”, Audrey was a depressing charity case who had been abandoned by Ben, and Aziz… had gone quiet.

He, for the first time in years, hadn’t immediately jumped onto the idea of “us against them”. He hadn’t… really spoken at all. 

And somewhere between the conversation with Ellie and the drama with the VKs, Dalia started… questioning herself. She started thinking about everything that she’d been told. About being perfect. About being the golden child. The one who did everything right.

And the one time she really, truly wanted to talk to her twin brother, he started running away. If he saw her in the halls, he’d walk away with a friend. If she was coincidentally in his vicinity, he was suddenly “busy”.

The day before school was let out for the coronation, she was finally able to catch him.

“Why are you avoiding me?”

“Aren’t you the Isle sympathizer? The perfect, pure little–”

“I want to skip school.”

“Y– Wait, what?”

“Skip school. It’s the last day before they give us a week break for the coronation and everything, right? We could skip, go pick up Akim and just… I don’t know…”

“ You want to skip school .”

“Well… want is a strong word, but I’ve just… I don’t know… been thinking–”

“Shocking–”

“ Aziz !”

He smirked.

She sighed, “You’re… right. About me. About needing to be perfect and the golden child and… all of that… you’re right.”

“... Huh.”

“That’s it? Just ‘huh’?!”

“Yeah, I mean… what, did a guy asking you out really change that much?” He snickered. “You didn’t show him your hair , did you?”

“No, I… I was… Know what? Nevermind. I’m going to class–”

He grabbed her wrist, holding up her car keys. “I’m driving.”

~*~

The teachers remembered the twins from their elementary days. Dalia had, of course, been a model student, so they believed her when she said she was there to pick up her little brother under consent from their parents. They were less willing upon seeing her twin brother, who had once stolen the teacher’s computer during class to show John Wick on screen. He’d said it was a joke, Dalia knew it was his favorite movie. 

Akim had not helped matters.

“Why are you here?”

Dalia smiled. “We’re picking you up.”

“Why?”

“I’m supposed to say something about our parents– What the Hell?!”

Dalia gently took her heel off her brother’s toe. “Do you want to stay?”

“Nope!” He grabbed his backpack and walked out of the office.

Aziz sighed, though it sounded almost… proud? “Well… that was easy.”

~*~

“Did Aziz get in a fight?”

“What? No!”

“Only with Dalia.”

Akim tilted his head imploringly from the backseat of the car, his black headphones firmly in place. “Then why are you taking me out of school?... Did I do something bad?”

“No, sweetheart! No, we just… wanted to spend some time… just the three of us.”

“... Why?”

“I agree with the kid.”

“Because someone else told me I was being…”

“... You can say it, Dalia. I’m only gonna cheer really loud.”

“The daughter of Elsa told me I wasn’t perfect.”

The car was filled with the kind of unimpressed silence usually reserved for Audrey and her circle when they saw someone without brown or blonde hair.

Then both her brothers just burst out laughing.

“Aziz! Watch the road!”

“Oh, relax!” He snorted. “Chill out.”

She rolled her eyes and slumped in her seat while Akim started kicking the back of it in a fit of laughter. 

“Haha, my feelings are so funny to you!”

Aziz didn’t even glance over. “Pretty much.”

She smacked his shoulder.

“I’m driving!”

“Illegally!”

“You let me!”

“You stole my keys!”

“Can we get ice cream?”

They both froze and looked in the backseat (Dalia immediately screamed at Aziz to look back at the road).

Akim just stared back. “What?”

“Nothing just… ice cream?”

“And the comic book store! They got these cool new action figures and they’re dragons and they’re so cool! Apparently their mouths light up so they look like they breathe fire and their wings move!” He started kicking his older sister’s seat again. Can we go pretty pretty pretty please with a cherry and whipped cream and sprinkles and chocolate and caramel syrup on top?”

“That actually does sound good,” Aziz muttered.

Dalia shot him a look. “The dragon?”

“No, all the toppings for his plea.”

Akim started kicking the seat with both feet, staring intently at his shoes as he did.

Dalia sighed. “Stop kicking me and we’ll go.”

Aziz tried to hide his smile.

~*~

“Look at him! It’s… Ooh! Troy!”

Dalia laughed. “Troy?”

“Yeah, like… I don’t know… he’s Troy!”

Aziz made a face like he was thinking up something mischievous to do before snatching the dragon out of his brother’s hands.

“Aziz, you give that back! That’s his toy !”

“I’ve kidnapped your dragon!”

“No! Troy!” He started jumping up, flailing to try and get his dragon back. “Please, give him back! He’s mine! That’s mine! It’s not–”

“You’ve gotta save him, Akim. It’s like that… oh what’s that game you play all the time where you’re saving that princess from the turtle?”

Akim paused before a kind of mischievous determination set in his face. “I’ll save you, Troy!”

“Aziz, just give it back…”

But Akim was laughing. His toy was stolen, he was chasing around his older brother while his ice cream melted past the only consistency he could tolerate it at… and he was laughing.

“Akim, come finish your ice cream!”

“I’m saving Troy, Dalia!”

“Yes, I know, but it’s melt–”

“Oh-ho-ho-ho! So close!”

Akim leaned back on his heels, clapping with his right wrist and the top of the palm on his left together. “But I have to save Troy!”

“Akim–”

“It’s okay, I’ll eat it later!”

“No, you won’t. Please eat it now.”

He turned around and scowled. “No.” And then he tackled Aziz and grabbed his dragon out of his hands. “I got it!”

Aziz sat up and playfully ruffled his hair. “I’ll get you next time.”

Akim grinned and stuck his tongue out at him.

Dalia looked down at the melted ice cream, holding back every inch of her that wanted to berate her brothers for being irresponsible idiots.

“We have to go.”

Aziz groaned.

Akim stomped his right foot. “We just got here!”

“And we’re causing a scene, let’s go.”

For some reason, her chest felt light again as she threw their trash away.

 

Chapter 10: I've Seen It in the Books I Read

She’d gotten a date five hours before the coronation parade. Of course, her date was also some desperate loser just trying to get someone to go with him and they had nothing to talk about except for if Ellie was really a lesbian and if she’d ever made out with a girl and blah blah blah… She wasn’t really paying attention.

Dalia looked stunning.

Her hijab for the coronation was gold, her dress was red, her smile was real.

Ellie had never seen a smile that pretty.

Not since… elementary school maybe. Dalia hadn’t smiled like that in years. She looked radiant, and Ellie was trying her hardest to ignore the fair-skinned boy beside her, dressed in green. Her date. That must’ve been why she was smiling…

She decided to ignore it.

… Yeah… ignore it.

Her hair was in a simple braid. Not messy this time, but easy to pull together. She was wearing an actual dress (shockingly), though it only reached her calves and flew up if she spinned just a little too fast.

“So how come you didn’t ask a girl out?”

“Didn’t feel like it. Might cause a scene. Don’t wanna be expelled.”

“Hmm… Aren’t you so excited for the coronation?”

“Nope.”

“... Ben’s gonna be king!”

“Incredible.”

“He might put a VK on the throne.”

“Good for him, are you done ?”

He went quiet for the remainder of the ceremony.

About halfway through, things started to get… blurry.

Jane stole her mother’s wand, Mal stole it back, Ben gave a speech about being good and not like your parents (yawn), Maleficent showed up, and then… she was just… gone? Or… was a lizard? Honestly, the details were confusing and apparently there was magic involved (which, frankly, was entirely unfair, since Ellie and her mother were “encouraged not to use magic” [banned politely]).

Oh, and what’s-his-face asked her on a date.

He’d walked away disappointed. 

She looked back at Dalia.

She really should’ve asked a girl.

~*~

Aurodan after parties were always… a lot. Big music, big dances, big dresses. Whatever. Ellie usually enjoyed them (because someone always spiked the punch), but this time…

“Not much of a party girl?”

Dalia jumped in her seat on the bench and then smiled, that same bright, genuine smile she’d used earlier. “Oh… no… I… I don’t… I don’t dance.”

Ellie nodded sagely. “Is that a personal thing or a religious thing?”

“Both?” She laughed, just a little. “It’s not my kind of music.” There was silence as the two girls just… stared at each other. Then, Dalia scooted over and motioned for Ellie to sit next to her.

“Oh, are you sure you won’t catch the gay?”

Dalia just stared at her for a few seconds, looking… not exactly amused, more… fond? Entertained? “You can’t catch sexuality.”

“Yeah, well… tell that to everyone else.”

“I might… Do you want to sit?”

Ellie hesitated before carefully sitting beside the Arabian princess, the girl of her dreams. “Sorry, I’m just… I don’t know… I…” She paused before huffing a laugh. “I don’t know!”

“I… Ellie?”

“Yup.”

“Thank you… for calling me out? I know I’ve already said it but… It…” She smiled. “I’m going to sound like you now… I don’t know. I guess… for some reason… I want… you to think I’m a good person.”

“You are a good person! You’re like… the perf–”

“Don’t… don’t call me perfect.” She was quiet again, looking down at her hands, ringed and elegant. “I think… I needed someone to tell me I was being… good wrong.” 

Ellie watched her, imagining that this was the moment. This was the moment in all the stories she’d written where the dream girl kissed the love interest. Where they admitted that they’d always loved each other and then danced in the moonlight.

Dalia didn’t kiss her.

She stood up and took a deep breath before offering Ellie her hand.

Ellie took it, gently. Cautiously. 

“You enjoyed the party, Ellie.”

“It’s more fun talking to you!”

Dalia laughed and let go of her hand. “Tell me the next time you write a story… You do write stories, right?”

“Uh… Yeah…”

“Great! I’ll read it… Give some notes?”

“Yeah…”

“Goodnight, Ellie.”

Ellie watched her go, not daring to move if there was a chance it could ruin such a fragile moment. “... Goodnight.”

Notes:

And that is a wrap on D1! Yippee! More to come! (When I gain motivation)