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karenhikari · 7 years

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The Ones Who Wander-5. What Couldn’t Be Yet Was.

I'm sorry for the long wait, this has been ready to be published for weeks, but I haven't been able to publish because of my exams and whatnot. I think I had already warned you―as soon as school starts again, I become its hostage, but I am already working on chapter six, so I hope I can give you that soon enough.

Umm... I'm very excited because the kids finally started appearing here, and I can't wait to hear what you all think about them. Also, this chapter has been the longest until now, and it didn't even cover all that I wanted it to! This is exactly why I don't do long stories―I suck both at updating and at planning.

Anyways, I can't wait any longer for you to read, so I won't keep you with my nonsense anymore! I really hope you enjoy!

To be honest with herself, Mal had groaned a minimum of five times per hour during the first few days after her return to the Isle of the Lost.

It wasn't the foul smell that filled the air she breathed in, it wasn't the lack of order in anything that was ever done in the Isle, it was... something else, a dull ache that followed her around even when she barked orders at the goblins or when she tried to keep herself busy.

She didn't want to say that she felt sort of... nostalgic for Auradon, but what was true was that, in the Isle, she felt... out of place, to say the least.

Regardless of that, she had work to do and like she had told Evie, she would stay in the Isle for three weeks, nothing less, nothing more.

Mal had started working the very next day of her appearance in the Isle.

Initially, her plan had been to feed the children starting the night of her return, but then things got complicated as the goblins didn't finish cleaning the kitchen and neither was she able to finish unloading the vessel.

Despite the reputation she had to keep up, Mal had been awake and ready to begin her duties at seven in the morning. Originally, her plan was to go to the bazaar and make a public announcement during which she explained the new functions of Bargain Castle as the Embassy of Auradon and the fact that, from that day on, the children would be able to attend to the embassy and be served food thrice a day. She would still keep the... placement program to herself for a little longer.

Unfortunately, Mal failed to remember that no one in the Isle was a morning person.

The first few days Mal had been short from screaming out in frustration, mainly because everywhere she turned around she saw something that needed fixing, another item she had to add to her already-very-long to-do list.

There was also, of course, the fact that everything would have been easier if only she could have used magic, anything could have been a snap of her fingers away, from fixing a broken window to cleaning a room, yet―she wasn't allowed to use it.

Among the things that she could have done more efficiently if only she'd had magic was calling Ben to tell him she still had everything under control. Every. Day.

At first, it had been a mild annoyance, knowing that there was no signal in the Isle and that she would have to leave the barrier and remain on the ship for as long as the call prolonged itself. However, when the fourth day came by and she had to step out of Bargain Castle, walk all the way to the port, leave the barrier, experiencing the sudden growth of a power that became inexistent as soon as she put a foot on the Isle again, which always left her a little disorientated for the first few minutes, before even having dialed Auradon's castle's number, Mal was ready to cry out in irritation.

It was half from the annoyance of doing all of that leg work and half from the fact that, while she was on the ship, engrossed in describing the Isle's crumbling buildings as she walked in circles around the deck, she could have been getting something done in the castle.

She had explained that a million times to Ben, but... there was really nothing he could to help her in that department. A whole new project of reconstruction for the bazaar? Sure, that could be arranged. Blankets for the children? Most certainly, how many? But... a spot in the Isle where magic could be performed and signal was available? Not happening.

Mal had also spoken with the Fairy Godmother, explaining to her how necessary a phone in the embassy really was. For Mal it was almost a matter of common sense―if the event of an emergency ever came, it was terribly questionable that she, the only one in the Isle of the Lost who could actually leave the place, would be able to get to the barrier and call for help.

Fay was adamant―the barrier couldn't be brought down.

However, Fay hadn't been counting on Mal's wit―two days after having spoken to her, Mal was calling Fay once more: she had found a solution.

At first, Fay had adamantly refused, but when Merlin, Yen Sid and Ben said it was actually a good idea, Fay was forced to listen to it.

Mal had kept it simple―her idea was to change the barrier, not to bring it down. Back at Auradon she had been studying magic, her time spent in trying to memorize what gave magic its... essence and core.

Apparently, the barrier had been put in place with the help of several magical entities like Fay, Tinker Bell, Merlin and Yen Sid himself.

First of all it was important to note that every single person, regardless of their magical abilities, had an essence of its own.

For normal humans, it wasn't very important, except, perhaps, that it became the reason why some people disliked others, even if they hadn't really spent much time with them. It was an aura, something like that.

However, for magical entities, each one's essence was highly important―it gave power to their magic, a seal that allowed others to recognize their work as theirs and it gave strength to their potions or spells.

Which was why, when the magic of different people coexisted in the same spell things got... complicated.

According to Mal's theory ―that Fay didn't seem to want to consider and Yen Sid admitted he dreaded― the barrier around the Isle was unstable in itself, which explained why it was so hard for her to step in and out of the barrier―the obstacle didn't only go against her nature, as she was a magical creature, it also did so with a rickety power that was fighting against itself.

So, if what you wanted was a stronger barrier what you needed was less people participating in the project. As it happened with everything else, the more ideas and people were involved, the messier it got.

Now, of course no living creature had enough power to place a strong, competent barrier around the whole Isle of the Lost and Mal didn't want that either, but, between two or three forceful magical entities... perhaps something smaller, like Bargain Castle could be circled, as if putting walls around it, allowing the signal to reach the castle and magic to be performed within this... barrier-less extension.

Fay hadn't seemed thrilled with Mal's suggestion, but the daughter of Maleficent had told her that at least she was offering a solution. Merlin, on the other hand, had become beautifully excited at the mention of a place where magic could be performed freely.

It had taken several more phone calls ―during which Fay often forgot that there was no coverage in the Isle and tried to call Mal when she was not in the ship, thus helping Mal make her point―, a week and a half of taking one step forward and two more backwards and Ben's intervention before Fay agreed to at least give it a try.

After that, a new debate began, this time, concerning the two or three individuals who would be responsible of the new barrier... or the lack of it.

Certainly, Mal was aware that her magic alone wouldn't be enough to do such a thing but, she estimated, Merlin's, Fay's and her own powers would be more than sufficient to complete a barrier around Bargain Castle, strong enough to only allow the ones she, Ben or Fay expressly permitted of entering and solid enough to protect the ones within it from the ones between the two barriers, the one that impeded the islanders from leaving and the one that circled Bargain Castle.

In the end, it'd come down to one simple statement―according to Evie's knowledge on politics, the whole extension of an embassy belonged to its country, and that included the sky too. Therefore, the sky on top of Bargain's Castle shouldn't be confined to the punishment of the Isle any more than the palace itself.

Almost two weeks after Mal's arrival, Merlin himself appeared in the Isle, having refused, much like Mal herself, to be taken there by a responsible crew, choosing to teleport Archimedes and himself to the Pharaoh's deck, were Mal was waiting for them instead.

Fay had refused to participate in this particular project, though Yen Sid had volunteered to help.

"Huh, to be brought here I would have rather stayed with Arthur," Archimedes huffed puffing out his chest as soon as Merlin and he had settled in the ship.

"Nice to meet you too," Mal deadpanned.

"Don't listen to this old fowl, age has made him cranky," the wizard replied affably as he pulled Mal in for a short albeit tight hug.

"Cranky, me?" Archimedes complained, flapping around Merlin's head so he could change from the wizard's left shoulder to his right. "After a whole life following you around with your senile ideas, suddenly I'm―"

"Knock it off, old chicken," Merlin warned, repeatedly tapping his staff on the wooden deck. "If you don't keep your thoughts to yourself I'll volunteer to take Yen Sid's place as teacher here!"

"That won't be necessary," Mal pointed out, unaccustomed to the wizard's arguments with his familiar. "Soon you will be able to teach to these children without having to face the... disadvantages of the Isle."

"See? She's a visionary, unlike others," Archimedes huffed.

"After I advocated for education during the Middle Ages I'm not a visionary?" Merlin scoffed. "Grateful old bird you are!"

The next two days were full of hustle and bustle, with Merlin coming and going and Mal trying to figure out what she was supposed to do in order to keep her guest comfortable. Fortunately for her, Merlin traveled with everything that he needed.

The morphing of the barrier was more draining than Mal had expected it would be, which basically translated in a sudden dizziness that she hadn't been prepared to face as soon as the new barrier had been put in place.

After that, during a whole week, every single time Mal turned around too rapidly or carelessly a wave of nausea would seize over her, forcing her to grab on to the corner of a piece of furniture and take deep breaths until she felt like herself again.

So much for having practiced her magic back at Auradon.

*―*―*

The day Merlin left, barely three days after his arrival, was not a sunny one. At least it wasn't raining Mal reflected on, almost feeling the need to apologize for the cloudy sky, even when there was no possible way she could control the weather.

Only Mal and Yen Sid had woken up early to give their farewells to the wise man, though only Mal would be able to escort him outside of the barrier, as Yen Sid had no clearance to do it.

"Merlin, Merlin, aren't you forgetting something!" Archimedes chanted, flying around the old wizard.

"Oh, keep your mind to yourself, Archimedes, I'm busy!" he commanded, trying to push the bird away.

Mal sighed and refrained the urge to roll her eyes. During the last days she had gotten used of those two's ways.

"Your Alzheimer is kicking in!" the owl protested, though he finally settled in Merlin's right shoulder.

"Well, now that this grumpy antiquity allows us," Merlin started then, sending Archimedes a glare. "I'll let you know that it was a pleasure working with you, miss, with both of you."

"It was a great honor to receive you too," Mal offered, bowing her head.

"It's been quite some time since I actually practiced any magic," Yen Sid piped in. "It feels good to have it back."

"To be honest," Mal said. "All this time I didn't know what I was missing on. All my life I'd lived... deprived of magic, thinking my mother exaggerated its greatness. But now I know why the former casters find it so difficult to live without it. It's as if you've lost a part of yourself."

"You are quite right," Merlin nodded, pleased. "Being stripped of your magic is losing a part of your identity."

"He's never agreed with the banishment of magic," Yen Sid pointed out with a shrug, leaning down to speak into Mal's ear as if it were a secret, even though he's voice was loud and unashamed enough for Merlin and Archimedes to hear.

"Oh, and do you?" the old wizard argued. "It's outrageous! Being born with a talent and not using it? Degrading the witches and sorcerers who undergo years upon years of studies to forbid them from ever casting again? Making this... floating junkyard magic's great achievement of this century? It is ridiculous!"

"That without mentioning the fact that they are robbing the children of the Isle from even finding out about their powers," Archimedes nodded, for once agreeing with Merlin. "Children at Auradon know they are gifted and study the theory of magic even if they are not allowed to practice it, but here? Like you said, Mal, you don't even know what you're missing on."

"Perhaps that's for the best," the daughter of Maleficent offered with a grimace. "You cannot miss what you don't know. What good is there in showing them what they can't have?"

"I do not agree," Yen Sid said. "The ideal would be that they could have it.

"Auradon is scared, and as such, it has taken desperate measures," Merlin nodded. "One of them was this island, another one is the prohibition of casting magic. Neither of them helps anyone, and I'll go as far as to say that they actually harm a good number of people."

"On the bright side," Yen Sid, who had kept in touch with Fayanna via handwritten letters, added. "Things are changing. The fact that they've decided to take the kids out is a good start."

"You've always been too optimistic, my friend," Merlin argued. "There's still a long way to go."

"But a man has to start somewhere," the other caster shrugged.

"I hope you are right, my friend," Merlin nodded. "Perhaps change is indeed coming. Look at you, lady, six months ago you hadn't even casted your first spell and now you're one of the most promising young fairies."

"I wouldn't call me that given that you chose me for this little bibbidi-bobbidi-bo because you were out of options," Mal offered, making a tiny fuss with her hands.

"What are you saying, Mal?"

"Just the truth, Yen Sid," she shrugged. "Don't you think I know every other caster at Auradon refused to come, much less to alter the barrier?"

"Well, that depends on how you want to―"

"Merlin, this would have been easier if we'd had a more competent team assigned for the task," she shrugged. "Don't get me wrong―you are powerful wizards, you, Merlin, are said to be the wisest of them all. But... it's been twenty years since Yen Sid casted magic at all, and I haven't really been trained to use my powers. I am indeed honored to have worked with you, but I'm aware that I was not the... most prudent option, or the wisest."

"Well, kiddo, the fact that you were indeed our safety option does not change the fact that your powers are promising," Archimedes argued, overflying Mal's head before returning to his master's shoulder.

"Perchance it is time to make a bet on change," Merlin nodded, giving Mal a smile.

"We'll see about that," she replied. "All I know is that it's time for you to get going."

"It sure is," the wizard nodded. "Old friend, we shall see each other soon," he said then, turning to Yen Sid.

"Sooner than you think," he conceded, bowing his head a little.

"You're still forgetting something!" Archimedes called loudly again once they were out of the barrier.

"Forgetting... forgetting?" Merlin questioned his hands going through his robes as if counting his luggage.

"The girl," Archimedes pointed out.

"Oh, oh, right!" Merlin nodded, gently hitting his staff on the ground, which made a suitcase appear. Not even sending a glance in Mal's way, Merlin opened it and began to throw things in the air, frantically trying to find something in the bag.

"Am I not always saying this?" Archimedes rolled his eyes. "He'd lose his head if it weren't pasted to him.

"Always saying this, always saying that," Merlin grumbled. "Well, Archimedes, if you're so wise why don't you tell me where the package is?"

"Huh, you act like I keep a written record of all of your things," the owl complained. "All I know is it's not in that bag."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, you said it was fragile and shouldn't be sent with everything else, that's what you said."

"Fragile, fragile..." Merlin drummed his fingers on his lips. "Oh, right! Forgive me, my dear, I almost forgot!"

"Because you are a walking mess," Archimedes muttered.

"Here we go!" Merlin said, not seeming to have heard his familiar's words.

"What now?" Mal let out under her breath.

"Here it is!" the wizard repeated, taking out a blue cardboard box from a bag that he had summoned while Mal was busy talking with Archimedes. "I almost forgot, young lady, but this old bird serves for something once in a while."

"What is it, Merlin?"

"A friend of yours, someone who impatiently waits for your return asked me to give you this," Merlin smiled, offering her the circular cardboard box.

"Who was that?" Mal inquired with just a bit of suspicion in her voice.

"Oh, I get a feeling you will know as soon as you give it a look," Archimedes offered, taking a seat in Mal's shoulder.

"We'll see about that," Mal shrugged, receiving the package from Merlin's hand.

Sighing, Mal raised her hand to take off the lid of the box, revealing the top of what seemed to be a small plant.

"What is this?" Mal let out, sliding her hand into the box so she could get a hold of the plant's pot to pull it out.

The pot she could identify, at least―it was ceramic, painted a light lilac as background, with two symbols, each a copy of the other one. She smirked―two dragons facing each other, their tails not tangled, but touching at their tips so that they formed a heart, an Auradonian, pathetic heart.

"Evie, definitely Evie," Mal decided, turning the pot around in her hand to look at the plant.

It was a small, green ball, covered in more thorns than Mal could count and with a sheet of what looked like white hair. Scattered here and there, tiny pink flowers showed up.

And if this was Evie's doing... Mal thought with a smirk, turning back to the seemingly-empty box.

"Bingo!" she muttered, upon having found a red, sealed envelope with her name written on the front.

«I thought you might feel lonely. It's a mammillaria hahniana. Water it once a week. It's a cactus, but don't leave it straight under the sun. Missing you, Evie.» Smiling, she placed he letter in the inner pocket of her jacket.

When she turned around, neither Merlin not Archimedes were there anymore, the crumbling deck and serene ocean the only witnesses of the words they'd spoken.

*―*―*

The other thing she had been working on since her arrival to the Isle was feeding the Isle children.

Truth was, that had been one of Mal's priorities, along with fixing the broken doors and having a very sour conversation with Grimhilde.

It hadn't been as easy to carry on with it as she'd made Ben believe it would be.

For Benjamin, this was just a matter of logic... of Auradonian logic, of course―to the people from the Fairy-Tale-Land it made perfect sense to think that, if the main problem was the lack of food in the Isle, then all they had to do was send packages of it and then it would all be fixed.

Clearly, they had never seen a tiny glimpse of the desolation that lurked around every single corner of the Isle. It was oh-so glaringly obvious that no one had left their immaculate palaces to spend a single, solitary night in the icy realms of the Isle of the Lost.

If she thought about it, Mal could discern between the way she, having been born and raised in such a tempestuous place, saw the world and the way Ben, a sweet, happy Auradonian kid, did.

It made sense that they thought, acted and even talked differently and, despite the fact that sometimes she craved to just smack him across the face because how could he be so oblivious, Mal would never wish him to know how things were done at the Isle. No, heedless as it was, stupid as it sounded, she wanted to... shield him from what she knew and from the Isle itself.

It was for the best, perhaps, that what Ben thought when someone mentioned 'starvation' was not being able to eat lunch because you had a project to deliver just after recess. Perhaps it was better that Ben, the innocent boy, could only match the words 'lack of food' with realizing that you were out of chocolate and having to eat something else for dinner.

Mal didn't blame Ben ―or any of the hero kids, either― for not knowing the things the people born and raised in the Isle did. On the contrary, she found it somewhat... endearing, for lack of a better word. It was innocent, charming and it made her want to spare them the suffering that had been her daily bread while at the Isle.

She was aware, however, that not all of her peers would be of the same opinion. Conversely to her, some of the Isle children might find that difference, so glaringly obvious, to be enraging rather than meritorious, and Mal couldn't blame them anymore than she could blame the Auradonians' ignorance.

Yes, there was a humongous gap between the way she had been raised and the way Ben and the others had been, but that was not the young king's fault, so there was no need to hold any grudges against him and, if she were honest with herself, neither did she feel rancorous against Adam or Belle.

Besides, Ben was trying to fix it, though that was a rather useless thought, because 'trying' had never been enough, not at the Isle.

'Trying' wouldn't make the scars carved into Carlos' forearm disappear; 'trying' wouldn't magically grant Evie's burning desire to stop checking herself in the mirror. 'Trying' wouldn't return a solitary ray of warmness to the empty eyes of the children that had greedily watched her return and bark orders as if nothing had changed, even when she was wearing new clothes ―actual new clothes, not just new because it was the first time she wore them―, even when her commands weren't as harsh and her eyes didn't burn emerald.

Perhaps it was too late for it to matter, but if 'trying' was enough to take the children of the Isle out of that toxic environment and feed them, then she was willing to give it a try.

The first time she'd opened the new doors of Bargain Castle and invited the very people that had plundered it inside, the villain kids had thought she was out of her mind.

When a few hours later she'd done the same, the only one who entered was Harriet Hook.

"Huh, look at that, who would have guessed?" Mal greeted her, taking a seat on the head of the long ―and very empty― table.

"You know how things are here―nothing stays secret for too long," Harriet declared, carelessly taking a chair to Mal's right, her legs spread apart and her left hand casually resting on top of her knee.

"Well, it's not as if I'm trying for it to stay secret," Mal shrugged. "So what? I suppose you're here for the food and not to pay me a visit."

"Surprise me," she winked.

Soon after Mal had barked an order to Prodotes the goblin was back with a tray that contained a pear, a bar of amaranth, a glass of orange juice and a plate of scrambled eggs that he placed in front of Harriet.

Unimpressed, the daughter of Hook raised an eyebrow at Mal.

"Oh, don't look at me like that," Mal smirked. "Isn't my word enough for you?"

"To be fair, you haven't done anything to earn my trust," the pirate offered.

"I can't believe you," Mal snickered. "Although there must be a first time for everything, huh?" And with that she took the glass of juice in her right hand and swallowed its content down. "Happy now?"

"Not yet," she replied. "The food."

Rolling her eyes, Mal took a fork and picked out a spoonful of scrambled eggs.

"Have you realized I'm not trying to kill you or do we need to continue doing stupid things?" she inquired, still chewing.

"Not quite, but I'll give it a try," Harriet decided with a shrug, finally digging into the food, exhibiting her fine islander manners.

"I take the embargo has been pretty bad, then?" Mal questioned after a moment.

"Worse for some than for others, you know how things are around here," Harriet offered nonchalantly. "Why are you even asking?" she inquired, drinking down the glass that had been refilled after Mal's demonstration. "It's not like you care about it now that you have your own castle."

"Point number one," Mal replied in a low tone, ignoring the hitch in her breath. "I didn't care while I was even at the Isle, screw the castle, your question was wrongly formulated from the beginning."

"Oh, please forgive me, princess," she spat, as if her words were a curse. With the inflection she gave them, they might have been as well.

"I'll have to spare your life, peasant," Mal shot back, although her words lacked the venom of a swearword. "It's like I said, Harriet―there might be a first time for everything."

"And you expect me to believe that?" Harriet deadpanned. "Suddenly Auradon has decided that they care about you and send supplies to not starve us to dead while sending you, of all people, as the person in charge? At least give me an excuse I can buy."

"Given how you don't have money to buy anything, I doubt that would change a thing," Mal rolled her eyes.

"What's the catch, Mal, c'mon?" Harriet inquired, her eyes trained in Mal's. "You're offering the moon and the stars and no way to get there."

"The catch is that you'll have to learn to use a napkin and a fork," the daughter of Maleficent said in an undertone.

"What was that you said?"

"I said that we do have a ship," Mal replied with annoyance.

"A ship?" Harriet repeated, a gleam that was well-known to Mal flashing in her eyes―greed.

"I got your attention, did I not?" Mal laughed, throwing the thin paper she'd used as napkin to Harriet's face. "Start practicing."

"What are you playing at?" Harriet inquired, her tone so low it was almost a growl.

"Nothing," Mal hissed, leaning closer to Harriet's face, until she was merely inches away, her own face the only thing Harriet could focus on. "Now get this straight because I won't repeat it―if I wanted you dead, I wouldn't play around with silly poison and fake charity. Trust me, I have a much better taste than Grimhilde. If I wanted to kill you I would do so with my own, bare hands."

"That sounds more reasonable than a sudden change of heart," Harriet concluded.

"Good," Mal replied, jumping off her improvised seating spot to turn on her heels and abandon the dining room.

By dinner, Harriet was back, this time with her whole crew.

Locking eyes with Harriet, Mal raised her right eyebrow in query. As all answer, Harriet nodded, almost negligibly.

―*―*―

The next morning, before Harriet and her kids even arrived, Mayra and Melvin, Morgana's children, shyly entered the castle, Melvin tightly gripping his sister's hand in his, even though it seemed that the little girl was the one leading them in.

Finally something in the Isle was working the way they had planned it would while in Auradon, Mal thought to herself.

Still, it called her attention that Morgana had remained by the door the whole time, thinner than she remembered her to be, her skin, once green, now of a unhealthy gray.

For obvious reasons, Mal had prohibited the villains of entering the building, allowing the lingering fear of Maleficent to prevail now that the she was in charge just so she could make the threat she'd growled at the goblins believable enough for them to guard the doors like they should.

Currently, Prodotes and Servus were closely watching every one of Morgana's moves, even when she didn't seem intent of entering the palace and only watched her children talk to Mal, her right hand gripping her left until the stormy gray of her hands turned a waxy white.

She personally served the plates for the kids and, in honor of the something that she had seen dancing in Morgana's dull eyes as Mal led her children away, she decided to sit down with them in the huge, otherwise empty dining room.

Mayra was a chatterbox, Mal discovered soon enough. The little girl buzzed with energy and uncontained ideas, tone too cheerful for the Isle as she sat fidgeting with her long, black dress that feigned small tentacles at the bottom.

Melvin was more reserved. He had his mother's green skin and aquiline nose, eyes a pale gray. He carefully watched every one of Mal's actions, and with just a look at his eyes, Mal knew that she was not allowed to touch Mayra or even Melvin himself.

Well, it wasn't that a ten year old could forbid her of doing as she wanted on her very house, but she had recognized the lurking fear in Melvin's eyes, a copy, albeit smaller, of the one she'd seen in Morgana's, the lingering knowledge of what they'd heard Mal's mother was capable of doing and what Mal herself had done. She wouldn't touch either of them, she could respect that.

Besides, it wasn't like she was a big fan of physical contact herself.

After that, both children started eating, not a word spoken about the fact that, for a moment at least, they'd thought all of this was a trap.

In all sincerity, Mal wasn't surprised ―or even offended― about the suspicions, but there was something strange in Morgana's relieved expression when she saw her children return to her half an hour later. There was something odd in the tiny jump in Mayra's steps as she reached her mother and in the tranquility with which Melvin took Morgana's hand in his.

For a second, Mal's eyes caught Morgana's. In them, Mal was unable to read the unleashed despise Grimhilde had looked down at her with or the throbbing contempt her own mother liked to wear around her. Instead, Morgana seemed fearful, lips pursed and her thin figure straightened to her tallest.

Her Auradonian knowledge didn't kick in―Mal didn't smile back at her, even if the gesture would had been forced. Neither did her Isle instincts―she didn't send a threatening glare Morgana's way.

Instead, she mimicked Morgana's pursed lips and nodded almost negligibly. Morgana nodded back before turning on her heels and disappearing into the crowd.

―*―*―

For supper, there were more people than Mal had personally opened the door to sitting in the dining room.

The first ones to enter, once again, had been Mayra and Melvin, Morgana's ghostly figure standing guard by the entrance once more.

She couldn't help a smile as she led them in, nodding stiffly at Morgana.

Soon after, Harriet's crew bursted in, making more noise than Mal was comfortable with.

Mal had just finished showing Morgana's kids to their seats in the dining room when Despotes called her, announcing there was someone else at the door. Puzzled, the daughter of Maleficent raised and went to answer, finding none other than Ginny Gothel waiting for her, her eyes glaring.

She was thinner than she remembered, Mal noted, her hair slightly shorter and a dark bruise in the shape of fingers circling her neck. Ginny didn't even bother trying to hide the hematoma.

"Ginny," the daughter of Maleficent greeted curtly.

"Rumors are you brought food with you," she said as all answer.

"And I suppose rumors are that you are... welcome to come in and consume it too, am I right?" Mal replied, her voice hesitating slightly when she had to put the fact that she was opening the doors of her house to the very people she'd fought against into words.

"The Isle is always filled with gossiping, I didn't think you'd forget that."

"Well, for once these aren't merely rumors, you see," Mal offered, moving out of the door to allow the other girl to enter. "Auradon did send food for you and I'm in charge of delivering it."

"And what's up with this sudden interest in us?" Ginny crackled with laughter that was half despise and half raw pain.

"Well, the Isle of the Lost is part of Auradon, you know."

"And when has that mattered to them? When in hell have they cared about the Isle as they sit in their marble castles and attend their balls and gloat about how great they are?" Ginny hissed back, breathing heavily before she composed herself and shot daggers at Mal, even when the daughter of Maleficent knew that her cold stare wasn't really meant for her.

Mal didn't tell her that some people at Auradon did care, she didn't say that Ben had cared for a long time. Mal didn't answer that they should all know better than to blame the mistake of a few on everyone.

"Honestly? I don't know, but what does it matter?" she replied instead, shrugging. "They won't lift the embargo because they're too thick to do that, but they're doing this now and I'm really not in the mood to rant and rave about them, do you want to eat or not?"

"Is it true, then?" Ginny inquired, still shooting daggers at her, even when for a split second something akin to disbelief had flashed in her eyes.

"Well, yes," she replied, not being able to help the annoyed tone of her voice. "What else do you think I am doing here?"

"So I suppose you're one of them now, aren't you?"

"Me? I'm too twisted for their taste and they're too insipid for mine," Mal shrugged, placing a sealed sandwich and a glass of water along with a red fruits bar in a tray that she then extended to Ginny.

"I've seen you," the daughter of Gothel replied, not taking the plate Mal offered her. "Your arm locked with that petty prince's and those pompous dresses, all smiles for those idiots at Auradon."

"In honor of the truth, I hate wearing dresses," Mal replied sternly as she decided against correcting Ben's title. "And I don't smile, I smirk. Anyways, what do you want? Either you sit and you eat or you get out of here."

"I see that you haven't lost your sweet attitude," Ginny hissed after a long while, even when her eyes finally left Mal alone to send the food on the tray an inquisitive stare.

Rolling her eyes, Mal took the bar and opened it, her movements closely followed by Ginny. She was getting tired of this, Mal decided as she dismissively took a bite of the piece of food before returning it to the trade, same that, this time, Ginny accepted.

It was so ironic. If she had done something like that in Auradon, they would have all argued about her poor manners―yet, here, at the Isle... this was the biggest sign of trust there was.

"Take a seat, I don't want to fight with you," Mal said, turning on her heels as she headed to the library. She didn't stop to see Ginny's fingers clenched around the tray.

By supper, Ginny was back, accompanied by Claudine Frollo.

Claudine, who had been tall already before Mal left for Auradon seemed to have gained a couple of inches in her absence, which almost forced Mal to tilt her face to look at her.

Claudine's steps, however, seemed insecure and Mal noticed with a crease in her brow that the girl also limped, her right hand applying pressure to her hip, something she didn't remember she had done five months in the past.

Ginny, just for a change, gave Mal a dirty look as soon as she had opened the door, but the daughter of Maleficent merely shrugged and directed the two of them to a table, placing a bowl of tuna and salted cookies in front of them.

It was strange, Mal dwelled on later, that Ginny had stopped shooting daggers at her as soon as she had done that, Ginny's right hand placed on Claudine's knee under the table, where she thought Mal wouldn't be able to see the gesture.

She decided not to think very much about it, but something in the way Ginny stepped in front of Claudine whenever she approached Claudine too much reminded Mal of what Jay did when it came to Carlos.

After that, it became official―the Embassy had an actual, functional dining room that served three daily meals to the majority of the children in the Isle of the Lost.

In all sincerity, Mal had never expected herself to be excited about such a thing, yet... there she was, feeling as if half of her job was done now that she had taken the smallest glimpse of Auradon to the disregarded streets of the Isle.

She should have known better.

―*―*―

Now that she didn't have to personally prove that the food she was serving wasn't poisoned, Mal had just about enough time to write down the names of the children and call Evie to ask for her advice when it came to the placings.

Usually, she wrote down the names of the children and a few traits of their personality.

Sometimes, Mal wasn't sure of the parent of a certain child and, in those cases, she called in her little helper or, like she preferred to be called, her 'spy'.

It was more like a game than anything, but Mayra had taken a certain liking to 'working' for her, though that mostly meant gossiping about what had happened during Mal's absence and informing her of the villain parent of a certain kid.

Either way, paperwork was a pain in the ass, that had long been decided by Mal, but what was worse was to be the one doing it.

Currently, she was not even halfway done and two weeks of her mission had already been lost between fixing Bargain Castle and the dining room project.

Matching the kids was proving harder than it should―firstly, because instead of twenty kids, it turned out to be more like fifty, as no one has bothered to count the descendants of the Huns.

Adam, of course, wasn't very pleased with this... new discovery, and Mal herself wanted to smack her head against her desk because really? Why in hell had no one remembered that the Huns had their own territory in the southern part of the Isle?

Sighing, Mal placed down the paper in which she'd been writing possible placings for the last two hours. This would all have been easier if she had at least a tiny idea of what the kids were actually like, and what the heroes' personalities, so that she could work out their strengths and deficiencies, but all she had to work with were vague assumptions that she wasn't even sure if they were facts or not.

"Seems to me not everything is going like you planned, is it?" a stranger's voice said, making Mal jump in her seat.

"Who are you?" Mal inquired, her eyes frantically scanning the room―which was, apart from herself, perfectly empty.

"Oh, introductions are always my favorite part," the voice said, and right after it had finished talking, the office filled with heavy smoke for a split second. When the fume disappeared, a shadowy figure stood by the door.

"Who are you?" she repeated, swallowing down a cough.

"My, my, if you ask the same question over and over this won't be fun," the stranger said, appearing right in front of Mal's desk in the blink of an eye. He didn't seem to have taken a single step. "My name is Hades, god of the dead, you know, not quite as enthusiastic as other jobs, but I make it work. You can call me Pluto if you're feeling Roman, are you feeling Roman?"

"What?"

"Definitely not Roman if you have to question yourself," Hades condemned.

"What the hell!" Mal said, her confusion changing to a rage that was half fear and half puzzlement. She blatantly ignored the hand Hades had offered her.

"Um, let me guess, I'm not supposed to be here?" Hades continued, the tiny flame on top of his head dancing. "You thought your silly barrier would keep me out?"

"What do you want here?"

"Are you always this... rapid to get down to business?" her interlocutor questioned with a smirk. "Not that I'm complaining, I've always saved a dark spot in Tartarus for those who make me lose my time and aren't... interesting."

"What are you doing here?"

"Now, now, those manners," Hades laughed. "See, I'm here because I want to... mend my ways, you know?"

"You shouldn't be here," Mal pointed out, her fists clenched.

"Oh, I'm aware, but I couldn't let you believe your inane barrier was oh-so powerful, could I?" the god continued, winking at her, which only made Mal stare back at him with more despise. "Don't look at me like that, you'll thank me for my kindness, you'll see."

"What do you want?" Mal questioned once more.

"Not yet, sweetie pie, first we'll have to go through a lesson," Hades brushed off. "Okay, you're wondering why I'm here, aren't you? Allow me to explain―you see, your magic is mortal, while I am not. I'm a god, and as such I'll still be here long after you and Fayanna and good, old Merlin have died. Your barrier is strong, I'll hand you that, but it only works against lesser beings like that sad excuse of a sorcerer."

"You mean Jafar?" Mal couldn't help but questioning.

"Jafar and the whole Isle," Hades shrugged. "So this answers your question―I am here because your magic will never be enough to control mine. After all, my power is much more than what you, mortals, can even dream about."

"Why haven't you left the Isle, then?"

"Don't ask stupid questions," Hades ordered, the flame in his head burning orange for a split second.

"So, just to be sure, you're telling me that the barrier is enough to pin you to the Isle but not sufficient to strip you from your powers?"

"If I were you I'd watch my words, daughter of Maleficent," Hades hissed from between his teeth. "I can still be pretty dangerous," and with a flick of his hand, he lit ablaze the papers Mal had been reading minutes in the past.

"I'm not the kind of person that takes these suggestions seriously," she replied, calmly raising an eyebrow as she snapped her fingers, putting out the small, bluish fire.

"You're reckless and you're stubborn, we'll see how far that takes you," Hades crackled a cruel snicker.

"I ask, yet again, Hades," Mal said, her eyes burning emerald. "What are you doing here?"

"Like I said, stubborn," he chuckled darkly. "Listen, kid, I don't care about you. If you're working for them, if you're just pretending to be on their side while you plan your revenge, if you're stealing tons of gold from Auradon―I couldn't care less."

The god explained nonchalantly, his hands making a tiny fuss.

"I am the god of the Underworld, of the dead," he continued. "And unlike Apollo I cannot foresee the future. However, I can guess and trust it'll turn out to be pretty accurate. You mortals cannot discern between those two."

"What does that have to do with me?" Mal questioned flatly.

"Hold your horses, I'm getting there," Hades brushed off. "My point is that the barrier won't last forever. I don't know when, but the memory of what this island represents will wash and wear off just like a mortal's life. A time will come when a spawn of the very same ones who placed this boundary will bring it down. Or, perhaps, when the magic itself disappears, once the casters that conjured it have passed away."

"Interesting prediction, but I find no use for it," Mal decided, her eyes locked with the god's.

"I suppose you don't now, child, nevertheless, take it from a fellow caster―I dearly advice you listen to me and learn my words" Hades offered nonchalantly. "On the other hand, what you should 'find a use for' is this: I know why you're here. See, the world of the living is actually a very small place. Being tangible, two people cannot use up the same space, something ghosts have no problem with doing, yet―you believe the living world is infinite, interminable. Your embargo has not made an impression in me or in the contact I have with the world outside the barrier, therefore, I know why you're here, Maleficent."

For a moment, Mal didn't say anything, despite having visibly flinched at the mention of her complete name. Hades, knowing what he had done, merely smirked at her.

"Allow me to repeat myself, my dear―I do not care about whose side you're on. However, don't think that you've been secretive enough about the genuine reason that you've returned. I am aware that the ship that brought you here will soon take some of the inhabitants of the Isle to Auradon."

"How do you... how do you know?" Mal let out, short from a whisper.

"Oh, so I was right!" Hades replied gleefully. "See what I mean? Mortals don't discern between knowing and guessing if you act sure of yourself."

"What does that matter? Even if it were so, you wouldn't come with us."

"Oh, it is so, I am fairly sure," he brushed off carelessly. "Sweet pie, I haven't tried escaping the Isle because I know the barrier is highly unsustainable. I consider these few years a... vacation, a getaway from my brothers and their nonsense. I can wait for this island to sink into the sea if I want."

Mal grimaced, feeling the tips of her nails digging into the palm of her hand. She supposed that what Hades said made sense―he was immortal and had eternity to wait for the barrier to dissolve into nothingness.

On the other hand, she still didn't understand why in Hell he'd felt the necessity to burglarize into her castle and start a conversation with her about it. For all she cared he could wait seated for Auradon to get rid of the barrier.

"Well, like you've so kindly pointed out, I do not share your immortality, therefore I do not have your time to loose. Get to the point."

"Listen, kid," Hades continued, not giving away any signals that he'd heard her. "I care not about me, but I have a daughter that has done nothing to deserve the treatment Auradon gives her."

"You have a what?" Mal questioned with piercing eyes.

"C'mon, there are people here with three or five kids and I don't get to have a daughter?"

"I don't have a daughter of yours registered in the files, you don't have one," Mal argued matter-of-factly.

"Of course you don't, she's never been in the umm... how do you call it? The upper world. She's stayed with me, underground, all along. I didn't want her to be around the kind of people that inhabit this island. I find them... disgusting."

"You're telling me that you've hidden her of everyone and that no one has ever heard of her, but I am supposed to trust your word on this?"

"My wife, Persephone, can confirm all of what I'm saying," Hades rolled his eyes. "You may need to use a phone or to write to Olympus, given how she's a free soul that wasn't condemned to the Isle, but she'll give you my alibi"

"The wife that you've illegally kept in touch with, am I right?"

"Girl, you said you didn't have time to lose, why are you even asking! Of course I've illegally talked to my wife!"

Right, Mal thought. Of course he'd talked with a wife that she had never heard about because he had a daughter no one had ever seen. Just a normal day at the Isle of the Lost.

"And what do you expect me to do with this information?" the daughter of Maleficent argued, not knowing if her voice was tainted with annoyance or trepidation.

"I don't expect you to do anything with it, for now," Hades winked at her. "But I thought you should know, just in case you weren't saving her a seat in the ship."

"What?" Mal let out. "After hiding this... hypothetical daughter of yours for, what? Nineteen years?"

"Fourteen," he corrected with a fuss of his hands.

"Fourteen, twenty, who cares!" she said, short from screaming, slamming her left hand on her desk. "Hades, listen, I'm getting tired of you, get to you point. Why are you coming forward now about this girl, whom I'm not yet sure even exists?"

"My, my, sweet pie, is your time... ticking?" he offered, crackling a loud laugh as he snapped his fingers, making a pocket watch appear in the tip of his index finger, proving once again that he hadn't been lying about the magic part. "Repeat your question, girl, nicely this time, like they must have told you at Auradon."

For a split second Mal's eyes lit bright green, her chest going up and down too fast, which only made Hades' grin enlarge.

"If the girl exists, why are you coming forward now after having hidden her for so long?" she questioned sternly, her knuckles stiffly gripping the back of her chair.

"I like this attitude better, well done," the god said, clapping exaggeratedly. "You've now earned an answer to your nicely-formulated question!"

Biting her tongue, Mal managed to not reply a blunt 'Well, get it over with', instead taking a very deep breath, which made her nostrils swelling up with rage. Hades smirked with pleasure.

"You see, Maleficent, I am not as terrible as you seem to think I am," Hades said calmly, his countenance dropping down his grin to make room for a seriousness that, for less than a second, made him a sovereign people should worship and bow down to. "I do care about Haidee. She could wait with me here until the barrier comes down, after all, she is as immortal as I am. Regardless of this, she deserves to live somewhere better than a floating rubbish bin."

"You expect me to believe that you are concerned with her well-being?"

"Oh, I don't expect you to believe me, but I do hope you figure out there is not trap in what I say," Hades laughed loudly once more, rubbing his long, blue fingers together. "You see, I am Death, sooner or later you'll come to my domains. I don't need silly lies to get what I want."

"And you expect me to believe that." Mal inquired stiffly. "Is that correct?"

"Oh, girl, who cares about what you believe or not?" he smirked. "You're here to collect the kids, aren't you? Be sure you know your numbers and do your job."

"What?"

"I know your orders, Maleficent. Therefore, take my daughter out of here," he ordered, before turning on his heels. "Oh, and in case you need a further proof of my intentions ask yourself the genuine purpose of the barrier."

"What do you mean?"

"Haven't your good friends at Auradon told you?" Hades clapped. "My, what a time to be alive! Although, you know, I'll always be alive!"

"What are you talking about now, Hades?"

"Hasn't Fayanna, your fellow fae, your kinswoman, told you?"

"What? That the barrier was placed there to stop people like you from walking among normal people? Everyone knows that, Hades, you're losing your touch."

"And I suppose you're not losing you're saltiness, are you?" he mocked, smiling gleefully. "Yes, yes, that's right, the barrier does all of those things, keeping magic out, keeping magic in, forcing 'people like me' into this filthy place."

"I know that, get out of here."

"You must be fun at parties," Hades sighed, his smile not faltering even once. "Though some of your... facts are mistaken. For starters, there are 'people like me' all around Auradon, in the high mountain of Olympus, in the deep, dark domains of King Triton. And trust me, girl, there are people much worse than me walking around as well."

"You're making no sense," Mal let out, even when she knew he was.

"You're playing big game now, girl," he pointed out. "Make sure you're choosing the right side, that's all I'm saying."

"I know which side I'm standing on," Mal uttered, her voice low, almost a growl.

"Oh, I suppose you think so, yes," he nodded nonchalantly. "But... can I interest you in... huh... what your chosen side is hiding from you?"

"There's no such thing."

"Oh, you trust them, that's worse than I thought," he rolled his eyes. "Listen, pick a side, do as you wish, but most of all, don't give loyalties to anyone but you. Don't marry an idea, get a purpose and do what you have to do to get there, because the people who agree with you today may not do so tomorrow."

"What?"

"I possess the wisdom of both life and dead, I'd listen to what I'm saying," Hades laughed. "Look, work for Auradon all you want, be their pet and deliver the messages they're too wussy to deliver themselves."

"So you were condemned to live your eternity in the Isle of the Lost after you tried to overtake Olympus and destroy three fourths of Greece but you expect me to take your advice seriously? You're nuts!"

"It is true I did all of those things, yes. However, while that can make me seem like a terrible person... I never lied. I wanted the power and I repeatedly admitted so. I'm not lying now, that's for sure. I told you already―I don't need to."

"You're making no sense," Mal repeated.

"But I will, hear me out," he shrugged. "Have your precious friends told you about the barrier or not?"

"I know all I need about the barrier," she decided sternly.

"You think you do, huh? That's so sweet," he laughed maniacally. "Has someone told you that anyone living under that barrier is... unable to die?"

"That's ridiculous," Mal uttered, feeling her heartbeat quicken.

"Oh, it is, but it's not the first time mortals have decided to... play around with their mortality. Lesser sorcerers and fairies promise they can stop time, turn it back, provide an eternal life all around the world, they have since the Earth started spinning."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"It has to do with everything, sweet child, because this time I can assure you that the barrier actually works."

"You're only saying this because you're the god of the Underworld, it actually makes sense to trust you on this one," Mal said, almost stuttering.

"I've never asked for your trust, sweet pie, unlike others," he laughed. "Hold your horses, will you? You may want to listen to what I have to tell you. Now, where was I?" he questioned himself, pretending to have forgotten as he drummed his fingers on his lips. "Oh, right! The barrier!"

He was out of his mind, that was what Mal wanted to believe. He was just... bubbling out nonsenses, stupid things. He couldn't get out of the Isle, that much was true... for now. However, Mal was starting to wonder how true that was―was he unable to break free from the Isle's barrier or did he not want to do it?

Either way... Hades was making no sense.

Except he was.

"Listen up, Mal Bertha―the barrier impedes anyone living within its perimeter to perish. If you don't trust me enough, give it a try―leave one of your apples under the barrier. Sure, it will wrinkle, but it won't rot."

"All of the food served here rots."

"Uh-huh, wrong! When they bring it here it's already rotten," Hades explained carelessly. "But a life, a soul? Have you ever wondered why the worst magic of all is the one done upon a soul? Only under exceptional circumstances can you bring someone from among the dead. Yet, Auradon did it when they built this island. You know that, c'mon, your mother was one of the Returned."

"That proves nothing."

"Well, then why don't we move on to... big numbers? Would you like that better?" Hades said, jumping to seat on the surface of Mal's mahogany desk. "How do you think your sorry asses survived for, say, nineteen years, seventeen in your case?"

"What are you saying?"

"Oh, isn't your obliviousness endearing?" Hades clapped, his features stoic. "Get this into your thick skull―you kids haven't starved to death here because you cannot die whilst surrounded by the barrier your compassionate former kings ordered to put in place."

"That cannot be, the barrier―"

"The barrier has more purposes than you think. Tell me, you've seen the outcome of Gaston's... moods. Explain to me, what happens during those?"

"Well, the last time Desiree lost a leg and I seem to remember a quarrel in which Ratcliffe almost beheaded Gaston."

"Well yes, but... the girl didn't lose her life, did she? And neither did Gaston die, despite the blood loss," Hades pointed out matter-of-factly. "Why do you think that happened? Wouldn't it be easier to kill you all? Don't you think that, if they could, the villains would have killed each other by now? Why do you think Maleficent allowed Grimhilde to live after their little disagreement? The Mistress of Evil wasn't that kind of person, was she?"

Mal wasn't listening anymore, her right hand shaking despite the tight grip she had on the back of her chair.

This couldn't be. That was it.

Hades had lost his mind after too much spoiled ambrosia. He hadn't talked to anyone except a hypothetical daughter in over fifteen years, he'd gone nuts, end of the story.

No one... no one would have a mind wicked enough to mark a place that even death wouldn't be unable to reach. No one would have the power to such a thing, it was... it was ridiculous to even entertain the thought of it!

So many times she'd heard Ginny wish for her mother's death, so many times she had watched Carlos after one of his mother's outbursts, covered in more blood than he should be able to, barely breathing. So many times she had watched Evie go one or even two weeks without eating anything, drinking near nothing, first because of the lack of food in the Isle and then because Grimhilde wouldn't allow her into the castle if she so much as thought of eating.

So many times she'd looked back to their life at the Isle and wondered, wondered with an uncomfortable stomach and ragged breathing, how was it that they had even survived.

No, Hades wasn't making sense, that was final.

"You're lying," she condemned, letting out the breath she'd been holding.

"Oh am I, my dear?" Hades winked. "I've told you―I don't lie. Ask your beloved Fayanna if you don't trust me enough."

"You're lying, you have to be!" Mal let out in a shaky voice.

"Am I, darling?" he questioned. "Or am I tying loose ends that you'd rather remained untied?"

It was too cruel, too... unnatural.

Placing the worst creatures in history together and allowing them to breed children was bad already. Not feeding those children with more than leftovers and trash, forcing them to live off garbage of the bright, perfect Auradon was bad enough, but taking... taking away the only relief they had, the silent wish that, one day, their victimizers would meet with fate and die, unabling the children that had never seen anything in their lives other than the countless piles of trash of the Isle from ever... leaving that place, in any way they could... that was beyond the imaginable.

"See what I said, child?" Hades smiled, the most sympathetically someone like him could manage. "You children are not alive because in the end it turns out that your parents aren't crazy and actually held back before they could... harm you enough to provoke your passing. Oh no, that's right, you're only alive because they were unable to kill you."

"That can't be," Mal argued for what seemed to be the millionth time.

"Listen, Mal, I know you're confused," Hades continued, jumping off the desk to circle Mal, surrounding her with his tunic's smoke as he placed a hand on each of Mal's shoulders. "You trusted them and no one bothered to give you this... crucial information."

"I refuse to listen to anything else you say until I've talked to Auradon," Mal decided, trying to get to get a hold of herself. "I'll take your daughter into consideration. You may leave now."

"As you wish, child," Hades nodded with an overly-exaggerated wave of his hand. "I don't care what side you're on," he said once more, walking over to the door. "But remember what I said, Maleficent―the best thing you can do is marry a purpose, not a side."

Instead of reaching for the doorknob like any normal person would have, Hades decided to show off once more, crackling a last laughter that made the walls shake before he disappeared into a cloud of blue smoke.

This couldn't be, she told to herself, shaking as she took her seat, her hands going up to rub her tired eyes. This couldn't be.

Okay, so the important stuff is finally happening!

First of all I want everyone to know that Archimedes' and Merlin's part is dedicated to my best friend, who has been helping as much as geminalupus with the development of this story―Cris, this is for you. And I love you.

Also, my kids! They're here at last! I am so, so excited. Literally, the only reason I'm writing this monster is because these kids have stories of their own that deserve to be told, so it's been torture writing more than five chapters with only faint traces of the children. There's only one more chapter to write till the introduction is done, and I can't wait.

And, since this story is going to be such a huge project, I decided to open a Pinterest board for two reasons, a) so you can know what dress I'm talking about, how I picture a character and, most importantly, because Cris, the wonderful friend I just talked about, has been drawing pictures of the characters, especially OC's, which I wanted to share with you so you can go check out her account as well.

I think this is all for today, thank you all for reading and please, pelase let us know what you know in the comments! Read you soon!

#Descendants #Disney Descendants #Descendants 2015 #Mal #The Isle of the Lost #Fanfiction #Drama #Angst #Abuse #Hades #Ginny Gothel #Harriet Hook #Claudine Frollo #Did I mention abuse already?

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