this is a time bomb exploding (where's my popcorn?)
summary: Despite what Auradon's history at large would like you to believe, the Isle and Magic Ban were not universally-liked decisions.
In which I mess with my own continuity, play fast and loose with Disney fairy mythos, and Jane has a father.
The truth comes out like this:
The history subjects had finally reached the point in the semester where the students would study major magical influences in the world, including the Isle and the magicks of it. Of course, it was a mandate that attribution of the creation of the Isle, at least what was taught in schools, go to Abigail Fairchild, the Fairy Godmother. She was the most powerful Good Fairy known to the populace, there was no need for more information. (This is false.) So when Jane's classmates began discussing the subject, especially those who had grown up on the Isle, Jane felt the need to set the record straight.
Chad beat her to the punch, though. "You guys, Fairy Godmother didn't create the dome. Yeah, she cast the spell, but it was invented by a guy named Adrien Prometheus Castle."
Heads whipped over to the prince.
"Then why haven't we heard about him?" asked William.
Jane interjected. "Because he's well known - by people who know about him, anyway, that he's almost violently opposed to Ben's father's regime. He felt horrible knowing that children were being raised under the dome, he championed the king to create a review committee to get you guys out of there. The king said no, no matter what. Castle left the country when the Restriction of Magic Act was put in place, with maybe half the magic community. It was, like, a species-wide exodus of the United Kingdoms."
The other teenagers exchanged stares
"Why do you know so much about this Castle guy?" asked Jay.
Jane and Chad exchanged a Lookâ˘.
"They're going to find out one way or the other." Chad said.
Jane nodded, took a deep breath, and addressed the room at large.
"Adrien Castle is my father."
(Have we got your attention now? Good. Because the situation isn't quite that simple.
But if you stay, you'll find out what happened.)
To go back to the beginning, we'd have to travel all the way back to when fae and humans first found one another. But that's far too much history, so instead let's all focus on the more recent 'beginning'.
Before Maleficent's curse, Cinderella's slippers, or Grimhilde's vanity, there was the Queen. The Elf Queen, to be precise. Vainer than Grimhilde, crueller than Cruella, cleverer than Jafar, the Elf Queen ruled the fae and humanity with an iron fist. Humans knew better than to exit their homes after dusk, to always leave the best sweets, the best milk, upon the entrance to their homes. No child was left unsupervised in the hours around sunset. Children who hadn't been watched disappeared. Fear permeated the air.
Despite what you've been told, not all tales of fae are true.
Elves are wonderful. They provoke wonder.
Elves are fantastic. They create fantasies.
Elves are enchanting. They weave enchantment.
Elves are terrific. They beget terror.
The thing about words is that meanings can twist just like a snake, and if you want to find snakes look for then behind words that have changed their meaning.
No one ever said elves are nice.
Elves are bad.*
Elves are so bad, in fact, that humanity and fae alike, despite their differences, bonded together in a great war to defeat the cause of their terror.
They won.
But elves are difficult to kill, and when fae die, their essence is absorbed back into the universal cosmos. Their soul - as much as some have one - moves on. But their magic, their magic stays. It twists and spins and grows and becomes something else. The Elf Queen, what was left of her magic, became a faerie with horns that could turn herself into a dragon.
Queen of All Evil, indeed.
So what to do?
Even after the good prince saving his sleeping love embedded a slab of sharpened, enchanted iron into the dragon-fae's breast, her magic was still within the world. The Elf Queen's magic was still in the world.
What to do?
Well, if you're a species with a long memory that never fades and meticulous notes on experiments done previous, you look for something to prevent the rise-again of one faerie with compounded evil from previous lives, that's what.
Enter Adrien Prometheus Castle.
Having been a child during the War of Elves and Everyone Else (there was a better name for that somewhere in history books, but that was what the most common name for it was), he'd aged during the reign of Maleficent over the country. Morally bankrupt beings that harmed others flourished, to the point of murdering old kings and destroying dynasties, demolishing towns and terrorising any who walked in their path. Children died, adults and the elderly were tortured, both physically and mentally. Despite the appearance of control, chaos reigned over what would become Auradon.
Living in what became known as London, Adrien studied the magicks of the realm. He experimented, earning himself several doctorates in magic study, arcanology and history at the time. He wasn't alone in his career, there was maybe twenty other fae and magic users on his city block alone that studied magic as a science. He kept his eye on history as it unfolded, noticed what worked and what didn't.
He created a spell, an enchantment, that could seal itself from the magic of the world. With wide, excited eyes, the awe of someone watching the birth of something amazing, Adrien placed his spell around objects, rooms, his whole building and block. Deaf to the startled shrieks of his neighbours, Adrien hollered with delight.
But, in the manner of almost all sciences that further the world, Adrien's discovery was perverted.
It wasn't intentional; in fact, the idea of what became the Isle of the Lost was in the best interests of the world. Maleficent, Grimhilde, Jafar, the crazy cruel fur-obsessed woman that lived in his city, they were reached a peak of their control. The descent was dizzying.
A beast became a man, a boy drew a sword from a stone, a shoe fit a foot, a man ran from a crocodile in terror. A sea witch took a ship prow to the chest, a lightning bolt to the back. A god was thrown into a river of souls, a warlord had a firework imbedded in his chest.
The world changed at the pace of a sprinting cheetah, where before it moved slow enough snails overtook it.
There were more moral people, people wishing to do good, than there were those wishing the opposite. But good people don't kill, not unless they have to. Blood does not wash easily off hands, and those good people wanted to keep their consciences clean.
Adrien's creation became news.
When Abigail Fairchild was at his door, Adrien had to blink a couple times, pinch himself discreetly. The Fairy Godmother of the generation, the wielder of the wand of White Magicks? At the door of some random magic-studier? He clearly needed to sleep, let his mind rest. Hallucinations were not something that usually happened without him having imbibed some kind of drug, but maybe he was sick?
She spoke first. "It's nice to meet you, Dr Castle."
Adrien concentrated very hard on not swallowing his tongue, and replied with sophistication, "Uh-huh."
"I need to speak with you. It's about your work."
Adrien felt his eye twitch as she walked into his apartment, a three-story brownstone building he'd moved into after leaving London. There were rumours of the city he was in now being labelled as the capital city of the nation that would form when the nation-merge went through.
Adrien was aware of the state of his home - in short, utter chaos - as he led the other fae to his kitchen. Fortunately, he knew he had milk, tea, coffee. Did he have any clean mugs? Maybe. He wasn't certain, but he thought he might've done the dishes the other night. With a quick glance at his sink, he was quietly relieved to find that there were a couple washed mugs on the drying rack. Thank Spirits.
Managing not to choke on air when he asked, Abigail Fairchild accepted his offer of tea. When they were both sitting at the kitchen table, she asked the thousand dollar question. Statement. Whatever.
"I'm here on behalf of the Fairy Godmothers Association and the Royal Families. We need - we would like - we would greatly appreciate it if you helped us with a . . project."
Adrien relaxed, partially. This was a topic he was comfortable with. "What kind of project?"
Abigail visibly tensed, and forced herself to relax. She could feel the doctor's confusion, as much as he could her trepidation. Best to just tear out the arrow as quick as possible.
"We want to use your magic-cancelling spell to create a prison in which to keep the villains that have been terrorising the country."
Abigail made eye contact with the doctor. His dark blue eyes - the colour of the midnight sky, as she thought of it - met her brown ones. He was calm, not asking questions. The fae considered each other, as Adrien, with all his ninety-eight years of life, sped his mind through all the facts he knew, what she was asking. The consideration was not unusual between fae, and by the trepidation of the doctor's emotions, his mind was moving quickly. She flicked her eyes over the tattoos etched on his exposed arms, runes and symbols and hieroglyphs. He was a very handsome man, despite the exhaustion-caused bags beneath his eyes.
"What are the terms of their imprisonment?"
Abigail started, the man's question abrupt. She took a second to compose herself before replying. "They will be watched closely. The island will be their opportunity to create a society for themselves. If we can see improvement over time, there will be reviews of each person contributing to the society. Should a person be deemed as having changed for the better, then they will be given the option to come back to Auradon and have a life settled back here."
Adrien nodded. "I want that policy in writing," he said, "and then I will give you the spell."
The close eye on the Isle yields the exact knowledge of when woman gets pregnant. And how that pregnancy manages to survive to the end. And how the child survives. Lives. On an island full of people who, by all accounts, have not changed in morality one iota. And Adrien, whose job it is to watch those living under his creation, the prison he'd helped build, and never one to be tempered by things like respect for sovereignty or politeness, goes to the King and asks what he plans to do about it.
"Do about what?" the royal man asks, "The child is the offspring of villainy. There is nothing to be done."
"Nothing to be done?" Adrien was disgusted. "Children are moulded by the world they are raised in. If we get that kid out of there now, they'd grow up to be fine. There's nothing stopping you from - "
"The people do not wish it. The child will be going nowhere. Your input is not needed." King Adam's voice rang with the thunder of a man whose word was final. He stared down at the shorter fae man, waiting for him to back down. Instead, Adrien's fist collided with his nose.
After the initial collaboration, Adrien met with Abigail (when had he stopped calling her Fairy Godmother?) several times. Despite the rising discomfort in the human community about fae, they were still invited to royal functions with all politeness. Adrien had met with the Godmother's of the Princess Aurora (whose name was being quickly forgotten by the mass public that wasn't her own kingdom in favour of her mythic title, the Sleeping Beauty), the Blue Fairy of the little former-wooden puppet, but Abigail was the one who kept his attention the longest. She was a fascinating person, her personal interests ranging from bee-keeping to swing dance to the inner workings of the political factions in Auradon, especially as new ones were cropping up all over the place. She'd been recently offered the headmistress position of the newly-formed school, designed to cater to the eventual children of the ruling class, so as to better prepare them for the careers their families would leave them.
Despite the decrees during and after the Great Uniting, as it was being called, the social order had not - and probably wasn't going to - changed much. Women were still expected to be home-makers, unless they had jobs or were not married, men were still supposed to be the breadwinners, the daughters of queens and princesses were still going to be the perfect ladies that didn't like dirt, the sons of kings and princes were going to rule the kingdoms while still being perfect sportsman and excellent warriors, dwarves were going to keep working in their mines, faeries were still going to be helpful and kind to everyone and everything, no matter how rude.
He becomes acquainted with the new queen Ella and her husband. He finds he likes them far more than the over-king in charge. After a while, he and the King Kit(ridge) even call each other friend.
But even after all this networking and the vague attempts at kind-of changing the country, things settle back into their old patterns, despite the influx of technology and work and jobs created and healthcare that is actually likely to save your life. Unfortunately, with no 'villains' to terrorise the populace, aggravations turn to those with actual good intentions: the fae.
Thousands of beings that are deemed under the banner of 'fae' live in Auradon: dwarves in the mines, faeries in the godmothering business and healing and tinkering, golems in the steady, thankless, disgusting work no-one wishes to do, vampires and gargoyles and trolls in the protection business as bouncers or bodyguards. Centaurs live in the steadily shrinking forests as caretakers, mermaids in their homes in the oceans, werewolves inhabiting forests with centaurs and rejoining the towns nearby the rest of the month. Now, now the human members of Auradon's society have decided that with no people around that actually wish to murder them in their beds or drag them by their hair into the town square to be slaughtered like pigs at a butcher shop - the fae that have lived in their country before it was an actual country were to be vilified. Differences between humans are reconciled: black and white band together to gang up on green and blue.
News of violent outbursts in bars and dance clubs began to fill the just-completed airwaves: humans fighting fae, often losing by shear virtue of not being fae, and therefore breakable in bone and flesh. Discussions of how to handle it surfaced: imprisonment? Send them to the Isle? It became a national discussion.
And in the middle, keeping its head down, Adrien and Abigail courted each other. Neither wanting to marry, their relationship was a passionate thing, but careful to edge around the politics of their home. Ella and Kit announced they were having another child, to be a sibling to young Charlemange. After discussing it, Abigail and Adrien decided to have a child, too.
(no. no. There is no scene in this story where you get explicit, gory details about the exact manner in which faerie children are made. You don't want to see that, and neither do I. No. Take my word for it.)
Being forced to work during the birth of his daughter is what makes Adrien go from disliking the royalty of Auradon, to flat out hating them.
(This should be all you need to hear.)
It had finally come to a head. It was decided. Magic - the altering of reality by means of a a natural connection with the energies of the cosmos - was banned. Oh, sure, it had a pretty name and was stipulated with lots of legal language that required an advanced law degree to understand, but that was the long and the short of it. Magic, the thing that powered the existence of maybe two-thirds of the working class and half the population of the nation of Auradon, was now an illegal product.
Adrien stormed into the High King's office, the image of pure fury. "What the fuck is this?"
King Adam, having been dealing with the myriad of complaints about the policy, merely kept his gaze on his papers. These ones were more simple than the matters of state he left for the lawyers and clerks, so he did them himself. Normally, he got through them early enough to spend the afternoon with Belle and their son Benjamin, only a few months old. "What do you mean?"
"This bullshit ban. You didn't release news of it to the public before it was implemented, it has no language in it that even references what the people effected by it are supposed to do, how to handle the kickback of any of this. You rushed this act through the vetting process, ignored experts in law and magic both about how to handle it, and now we're all hearing about how you're getting complaints and you're confused by it."
"The Restriction of Magic Act was carefully considered and discussed by those who had reason to decide it was what is best for the United Kingdoms of Auradon." Calm, Adam. Calm. The doctor is a respected member of the magic community, a voice of his people. Do not lose your temper.
"What the fuck? How is this best for Auradon? It effects half your population in the most negative way possible; and I know for a fact that several rulers of these United Kingdoms," Adrien spat the words, "have argued against your decision." It was true. Queen Elsa's anger at the ban had left several icicles that had taken days to melt. "This was not a fair decision. It was an attack on your own populace. Are you really so scared of magic that you think this is a solution?"
Adam lost his thin control. "I am not afraid of magic! And if I was, it would not effect my policies! This is what the people want!" He glared across his desk at the other man.
"The people do not want this! Are you that deluded, or just really good at lying to yourself?! You've created legislature that discriminates against half your population! You've increased the working hours of the working class, the fae that work for a goddamn living, and cut half the usual pay! You've weakened your people so they can't make complaints! You cut vacation and sick days for the dwarves that mine your jewels, slashed the rights and wages of merfolk in Atlantica - with Triton's help! You're not helping anyone but the one per cent of this country!"
"You have no right to say these things to me! I am your King!"
"I HAVE EVERY RIGHT! I am a citizen of this country, I pay my taxes, I work for a living! And when I feel my rights are being infringed upon, I have the RIGHT to take my complaints to the highest office of the country! Who seems to think yelling at people will make his problems go away!" Adrien went from an explosion of anger to the calm tranquil fury of a man ready to murder, if given the slightest push. "You fucking fascist, your country is a time bomb that's gonna blow up in your son's face, and everyone will blame him. You've destroyed your own legacy and your son's life. The worst part is? You can't even acknowledge it, because you can't see past your own privilege. You're gonna go down in history as the worst king this continent has ever seen. And I'm gonna make sure of it."
Adrien turned and stalked out the door, the glare from his eyes scary enough to make Lumiere throw himself to one side of the hallway.
It took less than a month for the fae of Auradon to give up on changing the legislation - at least, under Adam Goodwin's rule. Instead, with the rumblings of those deeply unhappy with their government, another decision was made: they were going to leave. An exodus, to a country of their own making. There was a valley, unpopulated except for beings of magic, that sat smack on top of the largest collection of ley lines in the world. Perfect for a society of fae beings.
Adrien pleaded with Abigail to come with them, to let Jane grow up without the feeling of shame for being magical in a country that refuses equality to her. Abigail refused - her life was here; she'd been born in Auradon and had no wish to leave it. Jane would stay with her, get an education in the most prestigious school in the country, and stay with Adrien in their new country for the school holidays. Adrien agreed, not wishing to drag out the pain for the three of them more than it was going to be.
Jane's little hand swatted at his beard, aiming for a comforting pat. Adrien cried, tears falling down his cheeks, for all that could have been in the world Auradon had promised to be, once.
Starlight Valley is beautiful, easily the most exquisite place he'd ever lived. Aurora borealis skitter over the stars almost every night, never polluted by lights from the cities and towns that dot the valley. Mountainous ranges on three sides, a glittering ocean on the fourth, it is a home that is capable of protecting itself even without the help of its inhabitants.
Fog curls over the lands close to the mountains in the mornings, often blown away by the sea wind by midday. Flora curls its way over most of the architecture of the 'cities', the buildings a mix of actual brick and wood and pipe before having three-quarters of the walls and roof have some tree or plant twisting its way up the structure. Tunnels had been constructed through the mountains with the help of the dwarves that had left Auradon to settle in the valley, and train lines ran both through the mountain and over it. Overpasses and highways had been contracted to work with the environment, and from above, Starlight Valley gives the look of a city that had been reclaimed by nature.
Adrien settles in Ramkin, a newish suburb/town twenty to thirty minutes from the University he's been hired to work at, teaching Magical History and Applied Arcan Theory both. He's close to the water, a short trek through the woods. He doesn't have much in the way of neighbours, his house a little further from the town proper. The closest he gets is Roslin Smaug, whose decided to try and do something about the declining swamp dragon population. Some evenings, Adrien can hear the dragons spitting their fire.
His house is two and a half stories tall, brick outside and wood-panelled inside. Books line the walls and some of the furniture, and he plants a vegetable garden in the backyard, just so he'll have something to do with himself when he gets sick of reading or working. He buys old 'classic' cars and teaches himself how to fix them, get them back in working order. His personal favourite is the old van, and he gets a local car detailer to paint it psychedelic, all swirling colours and neon flower prints.
He curates Jane's room, for when she visits. Paints the walls shades of blue and purple, applies glow-in-the-dark paints to the walls so that when the lights are off, the walls glow softly with images. Carefully, he colours the ceiling with watercolour paints and traces in constellations and planetary systems. He imbeds them with magic, makes it glow with a golden light - later, he'll find that the soft glow keeps Jane calm when she had nightmares, and a swell of emotion always follows that knowledge. He makes sure to listen to her, notes her interests, so he can surprise her with a gift when she visits, something she'll like.
Plants grow like weeds under his care and eye, and after a couple years, he gets a greenhouse built into the property, and he grows and cross-breeds plants and flowers and herbs, mostly just for fun, but occasionally he writes a paper on the subject.
He adopts a cat, a grumpy thing with the face of a mugger, the cat looking ready to kill except for the fact that Vimes is the most stupidly cuddly animal he's ever encountered. When Jane's about eleven, he adopts two pit bull dogs that had been recovered from dog-fighting rings outside the valley. Boss's black form it a welcome sight on the couch and Snuff's smudgy grey one has decided that Adrien's bed is the perfect resting place. Vimes lords over the two like the king he is, and when Jane is home, she claims their devotion as is her due.
Adrien keeps his blue eye on the policies of Auradon, watching the powder-keg of a country build and build. From the policies promised, the rumblings of unhappiness from the 'sidekick' community, budgetary problems are not too far in the future, nor a looming environmental crisis, when everyone decides they want a car and infrastructure can't keep up. The public spending is already ridiculous, the royals not seeming to know how to use something more than once. Violations of human rights on the Isle, if the information ferried to him by a friend in the overseeing of the Isle is correct. Violations of inhuman rights, going by the unhappiness of the fae that stayed.
Jane is doing well in school, but is unhappy with the sociality of the world she exists in. There is no place for fae in Auradon Prep apparently. Their allotted time is highlighted on the calendar, awaited in anticipation for both. Adrien remains civil with Abigail, despite not agreeing with her support of King Beast.
He insults and jabs at Auradon whenever he can in his lectures - it amuses his students no end. He visits the self-righteous hellhole of a country he left a couple times a year, mostly to gift Jane with something she'll like - this year, he has a baseball bat inscribed with runes and wrapped with mistletoe and wolfsbane, and is armed with knowledge of the ins and outs of types of tax evasion when making deals with demons and witches**.
He's planning to watch Auradon explode from it's own hubris within the next couple decades with popcorn next to him, and a manuscript of how it happened penned by his own hand. With some pity for the poor boy-king who's going to inherit the mess, he awaits the fireworks.
*this speech is paraphrased from the Terry Pratchett novel Lords and Ladies.
I think the timeline of Adrien's life would go something like this: Elf Queen falls when he's under ten, Maleficent and villains rise and fall over the next eighty-odd years as he gets his doctorates and creates the dome. He's ninety-eight when Auradon is formed, a hundred and two when the magic ban is implemented and Jane is born. He moves with the mass exodus of fae, ending up in a university town by the sea, surrounded by forest (think similar to gravity falls), and he works at the university there. Jane visits on holidays. He's a hundred and eighteen/nineteen when the movie happens.
** a tumblr post actually first inspired this idea: post/156165080810/lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks-sepulchritude
because i just wanted jane to have a dad, and i needed an excuse why he wasn't around, and it spiralled out of control. this was supposed to be a silly crackfic, but i felt the need to justify myself. maybe another time.
I fancast Jon Bernthal as Adrien, specifically his appearance in the movie Me and Earl and the Dying Girl, where he played a heavily tattooed history teacher. it's the icon
Also, the only reason Adrien wasn't at his daughter's birth (depicted in my fic, with golden string, our universe was clothed in light) was because I hadn't come up with the idea of him until recently. Sorry, but I'm piecing my continuity together with duct tape as best I can.