A/N: God, I'm so awful for not updating my works that aren't complete. But DarkNight18 gave me the idea for this two-shot and I had to write it. So please, review and favourite.

Whipped Cream & Other Delights,

TheHarleyQueen

The letter sat on Ben's desk, looking odd and out-of-place. It was written on cheap, lined paper, instead of the thick parchment of most of his missives arrived on. It was sealed- there was that. The seal was purple, and the wax was cracking around the edges- it had been lying there for a while. The crest itself was an elaborate M imposed in front of the morning star. Ben didn't recognize it- it wasn't Audrey's or Chad's or even Jane's- and that was enough to tell him that he should have called Cogsworth long ago. But he hadn't.

Because there was something about the letter that drew him in. It wasn't normal, and Ben craved that. So he hadn't called Cogsworth. And he crept towards the letter, slowly, debating on whether to it pick up. And then magick made the decision for him.

The letter flew into his hand. The moment it touched his flesh, however, something happened. A blinding light flew out of the folded paper and encircled his wrists, creating a set of cuffs glowing on his arm. He unfolded the letter and began to read.

Prince Benjamin of the House Beast,

You don't know my name. But you know my house. And you know where I represent. Even if you don't want to believe it, your hunch is true. This letter has been sent to you from the Isle of the Lost. And you know whom the crest represents. The House of Magick. And this letter comes to you as a proposition of Marriage.

If you've touched it, we are betrothed. So It Has Been, So It Shall Be. But this requires one last sacrifice from you, my dear prince.

Come to the Isle of the Lost and seal the alliance. You may be a Prince where you are now, but on the Isle of the Lost, you will be my king.

My darling Prince, the House of Magick awaits you on tenterhooks. When you join us, we will rule all of the Isle of the Lost together. And soon, all of Auradon. You are my chosen consort and lover, and by my word, that shall never fade through all of time. Come to the Isle of the Lost, darling. You will be free.

M

The Isle of the Lost. The island Ben had stared out at for years, wondering what it was like, to be there, to be free. And now, he had an invitation to the Isle of the Lost, a way to never lose the thrill that came from crawling out the palace windows in the dead of night, the thrill that came from running, running without a thought to stop.

A betrothal meant nothing. He'd been part of six betrothals so far, and he was only fourteen. They always found someone better for their plans. So a betrothal contract, versus a trip to the one place he'd been dreaming about for years? There was no question.

Ben walked out of the palace, and he didn't return for a long, long time.

The Isle of the Lost was dirty, and dark, and cold. That much Ben knew, from before he set foot within its walls. He knew he was sacrificing magick, and power by walking into the prison full of the most dangerous criminals in all the worlds. And he didn't care. Because the moment he set foot on the island that was once Neverland, he felt the rules and the impositions and the life his maman had carefully constructed for him sliding off him, dissolving into thin air, and it was amazing.

A girl stepped out of the shadows, and she was beautiful. She was pale- so pale she was as white as snow. And her hair was dark black, with the shadows cast upon it (if Ben could see it, in broad daylight, he'd see that it was royal blue). But her lips- her lips were the masterpiece. Because they weren't just blood red, no, they were dripping with real blood. And Ben should be terrified, but all he could see was beauty. And then she spoke, and her voice was light and beautiful and reminded him of his mamman's voice when she sang him to sleep.

"So the princeling has come to be a king. The Queen will be delighted." Her voice sent shivers down his spine, but then the angel grabbed his hand, and started pulling him somewhere, and he couldn't think about anything except her touch, and her skin, so he followed her {after all, if Ben had any sense of self-preservation, he would never have come to the Isle in the first place}. And she dragged him through the Isle of the Lost, snarling {snarling} at the people who stared too long, smiling at him, taking things from the stalls they passed and tossing them to him {and wasn't that just a thrill, taking stuff without giving back} and once, she even stopped to kiss a boy {they left the boy behind, on the ground, trembling, and almost a pale as the angel herself}. At some point, she started taking more random turns, and even started retracing her footsteps {she wants to lose someone. She's got a tail}. She even dragged him behind some garbage bins at one stage, motioning for him to stay silent and low, and then crept away. And fuck, if that wasn't terrifying.

He stood still for so long, trusting the girl, trusting her, and then he realised that this was the Isle of the Lost, not Auradon. He couldn't trust anyone. So he left. Walked out into the marketplace, decided to try find the angel. But after passing two stalls, he realised that it would be much harder than he'd anticipated, because everyone needed to be bought off, and he had nothing. He put a hand on the knife his papa had given to him {"For self-defence only, Ben. You must never hurt someone that hasn't grievously harmed you"} and then he had a plan.

"Where's the angel-girl?" And, okay, yeah, that wasn't the best description he could have given, but the pathetic piece of scum he was talking to had been molesting a girl when Ben stumbled upon him. The piece of shit could suffer.

"I don't know who you're talking about! Please, please! I didn't do anything. Who's the angel-girl? Who are you?" The man was panicking, and Ben revelled in it, delighted in the fear he was causing the other man {but already, Ben was becoming less of a man, and more of a Beast}. "The girl with blood on her lips. Where is she? You have one more shot to get this right."

The man shuddered and jerked, his eyes flying open, "Her Ladyship is in Maleficent's Palace with the Queen. The- the biggest building. You can't miss it. It's at the top of the city." And his shoulders sagged in relief, because he thought he would get away. That was before Ben slit his throat {and took his heart, as a gift to the angel-girl}.

"He'll be here, Evie. I chose him for a reason. There's no one else for me to marry. He just has to unlock his true potential."THe voice was even more beautiful than the angel-girl's. It was deep and raspy, but still feminine. It sounded, Ben thought, like power and smoke. And he had to hear more.

"But I don't see why I had to just leave him. He was cute, and he's not used to the Isle. And I also don't see why you have to get married already. You're only fifteen."

"And I'm fae, and a queen. This is the way of the world, Eve. And I don't care for a Prince like you. I need a king."

A third voice broke in, a man's voice, that was deeper than the first woman's and harsher than angel-girl's, "Ladies, I hate to interrupt what I'm sure will be a riveting conversation and not at all like the three previous conversations that were exactly the same, but we have a guest." That was Ben's cue, he knew, and so he prowled into the light, the asshole's heart clutched in his hand, dripping blood onto the stone floors of Maleficent's Palace. But when he saw the other woman, he froze. Because angel-girl was beautiful, but this faerie was radiant. And he knew, he knew he was hers and vice versa, because she wore the same glowing cuffs as he did. He bent low as he bowed and presented the heart.

"My Queen."