As you can imagine, the villains were not pitied on the island. And despite their fearsome reputations, they most certainly were not safe. Not in the slightest.
This can be said especially for a queen. An evil queen, in particular. Her beauty, while she loved it dearly, attracted unwanted attention from the violent monsters that she lived amongst- the vile, dirty creatures that were put on the island for crimes such as abuse and rape. She blames herself for leaving the castle late at night. It was a mistake.
And to her horror, despite the common knowledge that villains do not fear anything, she couldn't swallow the horrible sickly feeling when she missed her monthly gift. And even worse when she noticed her stomach begin to swell.
Is this what I have come to, she thought bitterly, Once striking fear into the hearts around me, and now I fear a baby? A tiny, harmless child?
The Queen blamed her fear on the fact that her beauty would be compromised in the coming months- dark circles, stretch marks and, god forbid, sagging. But she knew in her heart- her dark, twisted heart that it was because she couldn't bring herself to raise a child in such a horrible, dangerous place. Yes, it would be the most evil thing of all to subject a child to the horrors of the island, but the Queen, quite honestly, was tired. She decided to stick to poisoning the animals that wandered into her castle grounds and intimidating the common-folk, and just that.
In the coming months, the Queen avoided the village and all but disappeared from civilisation. She relied on the goblin's fruit and vegetable cart that passed by her home three times a week, and in return for vials of potions that the Queen cooked up in her kitchen, they brought her other things like bread and cheese. When her clothes began to tighten, she made new ones, crinkling her nose in disgust as she took her measurements. This vile little creature will surely be the death of her, she would think.
And when the time came, the Queen braved it alone. She kept reminding herself to concoct a potion that would cause the consumer's stomach to twist and cause the pain that she was going through because it was the worst pain she had ever felt in all her life. It made her scream and groan and curse the little creature. In fact, she was sure she hated it more than Snow White. And that was saying something. Sweat rolled down her forehead, her hair stuck to her face. With a final push, she howled, cursing the child once more.
An animalistic screech pierced the air. The Queen fell back on her pillows, sweating and exhausted, uncomfortable at the squishy wetness pooling around her lower torso. She caught her breath before hesitantly leaning forward, peering at the space between her legs.
A bald, slimy, squirming thing lay on its back, its mouth open wide and clean, not pausing for breath as it wailed within an inch of its life. Literally. She noted that the it was in fact, a girl. A shiny, bloodied sheen coated the baby's skin, and the Queen wrinkled her nose in disgust. She had heard of women marvelling at their children the very second they come into the world, and the thought of believing that this creature was beautiful was beyond her.
The Queen took the long knife from her side table and spun in her hands for a few moments. She scrutinised the wriggling thing, deciding on the best way to do it. Which way should she tilt it? What will be the most effective, the quickest? Upon deciding, she flipped the knife once more, grasping the handle, and promptly sliced the cord that connected them. The baby wailed once more, and the Queen tutted, wrapping her in a cloth and wiping the slime from her body.
"Oh hush now, stop crying you vile little creature." She lay back on the pillows once more, gently rocking her arms, and the baby stilled at once, her once piercing cries now no more than soft ih's and uh's.
Then something changed in the Queen's heart. Something hit her with great force, but the queen couldn't quite make sense of it. Something inside her softened as she gazed at the baby- her baby's, face. Her little eyes, not yet open, and her round cheeks tinged pink, and her perfect little lips. A tiny, delicate hand rested under her chin. The queen marvelled at how tiny and perfect her fingernails were.
With a start, the queen realised what she was feeling was love.
For the first time in her life, the Queen felt love, and lots of it. It filled her up and poured out of her, warming her heart and clouding her head. A tear squeezed from her eye and rolled down her cheek, and in that moment, mere moments after feeling the abundance of love, her heart broke because she knew she couldn't keep her. If this child were to grow up happy, and the Queen wanted nothing more than that, she would have to let her go. And that meant getting her off the island.
With haste, she cleaned and dressed herself and gathered the clothes that she had made for the baby from the cupboard. After washing her in the sink she changed her and wrapped her in blankets, before nesting her in a basket.
The Queen refused to let her emotions get in the way. She was a queen- an evil on at that, and she would not cry; she would not let her heart determine her feelings. That was the way it was supposed to be. She passed a mirror and paused, glancing at herself. The bump was gone. She ran her hands over her stomach, flat once more, and cracked a smile. This was who she really was.
The Queen fled her castle under a black sky, the only light coming from the moon above. The hooded cloak fell low over he eyes, ensuring that her identity remain secret if she were to cross paths with anyone. With the basket tucked under her arm, covered by her cloak, she made for the docks.
A shipment of leftovers from Auradon's tables came in that morning so the ship would head back as soon as the sun rose the next. The Queen knew the only way that she could get the child off the island would be by hiding her in the ship.
The roads were dark and the Queen, still haunted by the memories of what had happened, had to swallow her fear and push on. She jumped at every shadow, and flinched at every noise, but she made it to the docks unscathed. On the ship, she hid the baby beneath the deck, in with the empty barrels and ropes. She briefly lit the lights on the wall and knelt next to the basket, removing the lid and gazing at her child.
The baby had opened her eyes by then, and the Queen's eyes, despite her own wishes, welled up when she saw that her eyes were a dark, deep brown- just like her own. Suddenly the sight became too much for her, she kissed the baby on her head and told her she loved her. After tucking a letter into the blanket and checking that the tiara she had put in earlier was still safely tucked away, she removed the heavy ruby from her necklace and placed it over the child. Even though she would grow up without royal parents, the Queen wanted her to have some notion that she was royal herself. Her job was now done.
The Queen stroked her cheek with the back of her hand and kissed her once more, before placing the lid back on he basket, turning off the light and stealing away into the night.
The next morning, as the sun rose high over the horizon, the Queen watched the ship sail seamlessly away, towards Auradon, and towards a brighter future for the child she gave up. She did not cry. She was a Queen.
And she told herself that she would not miss the child. Absolutely not.