Queenie gaped, brows raised high as she stared at Maleficent's daughter with nothing short of utter astonishment. Her form tensed, and her hand - if it was even humanly possible - held the bat even tighter. She hadn't fully prepared herself to face whoever it was that happened upon on her den, but never in a million years had she imagined this.
'Oh shit,' she thought, a large handful of questions flying through her mind in a jumbled mess and preventing her from even speaking. She had so many things to ask the former V.K..
'Why is she back? How long is she staying? Are the others back too?'
The young princess quickly raised a hand to flick herself in the side of the head, a small effort to make the voices in her head shut the hell up for once. Unfortunately, the exact side she'd chosen to assault had been the spot Harry had hit only hours before. She winced and hissed loudly, clenching her eyes shut as a terrible and sharp pain radiated through her head.
Only when she re-opened her eyes did Queenie notice the odd stares she received from the now-blonde-haired girl stood in the doorway, and she quickly brought herself back down to earth. She had to say something - anything, really. Just enough to make herself seem less crazier than she actually was.
"Uh." Queenie paused as she thought, her eyes flickering to the side as she attempted to create a comprehensible reply. "Hi?" Her voice was questioning and hesitant, and Queenie resisted the urge to face-palm herself then and there. On the other hand, however, she thought she'd done rather well considering the current circumstances.
Much the young princesses relief, the blonde didn't point out the odd greeting, nor did she question Queenie's rather awkward stance. Instead, Mal simply nodded, apparently satisfied with the greeting she'd received, and strolled right in to the living space.
"So," the former V.K. muttered uneasily, lowering her backpack to the floor. "Place hasn't changed much."
Queenie hummed in acknowledgment, the odd and straining tension in the air not lost on the little princess. She still stood, the unwavering anxiety in her body rendering her unable to relax. She'd gotten so used to being alone in the den that the arrival of anyone made her skittish. But she also knew that that wasn't the only reason.
Back when the Core Four ruled the Isle, Queenie hadn't ever spent some 'alone time' with Maleficent's daughter. The latter was always with her mother or tormenting the locals, and Queenie spent a good amount of her time with them firmly attached to Jay's side. The only time Queenie was even around Mal was when the group felt the need to drag her out of her 'home' and attempt to teach her their ways. She'd been much closer to Jay, what with him having been the one to take her away from her mother, and Queenie had only ever really spoken to him. She hadn't quite bonded with Carlos, the smallest of the Core Four had been constantly following his own mothers orders, or sitting silently in the corner of the room. The only other person she'd had the luck to know was Evie, though Queenie knew full well the only reason the Evil Queen's daughter had taken a small liking to her was because of their royal status. They hadn't been true friends. Evie only ever talked to Queenie when she wanted an opinion on one of her new creations, or if she was bored and wanted another princess to dress up.
But Mal? There was no way in hell the old 'leader' would have ever willingly spent time with her. They were polar opposites, after all. Mal enjoyed being 'evil' as far as Queenie knew then, and the young princess was everything but. Truthfully, Queenie hadn't really felt a friendly connection with any of them, which also explained why they'd never fully invited her to become one of their 'gang'.
"How've you been?" asked Mal, casually crossing her arms as she faced the other girl.
Queenie opened her mouth to reply, only to stop immediately. She gave a small scoff of disbelief, lightly shaking her head at her own foolishness. She'd hoped for an apology before anything else, a small and vulnerable side of her needing to hear it from at least one of them for what they did. But from Mal's calm and unbothered demeanour, she knew that wasn't what her old 'leader' had had in mind when she returned to the Isle.
The young princess raised her head, and a rather unsettling force shook its way through her body. She silently attempted to calm herself, inhaling and releasing deep and soothing breaths in the hopes it would keep the feeling at bay.
It didn't work.
The Queen of Hearts was rather notorious, and for many reasons. The one thing many talked about was her psychotic fondness for cutting off the heads of those who dared go against her. During her day, and night, trips out onto the streets of the Isle, Queenie had heard a good few people who dreaded the very idea of hearing her mother's infamous screech to remove their head. Queenie hadn't ever seen the brutality first hand, she'd only ever heard whispers through the alleys and a few small facts from Gil when she, eventually, had plucked up the courage to ask him. She'd heard many terrible things about the woman she'd once adored, but it did explain why so many were quick to dodge from her path when she first went for a walk on the Isle.
The second, and probably worse, thing Queenie's mother was known for was her temper. She was a grown woman; A very beautiful and intimidating one in fact, but her tantrums were borderline childish. If her mother couldn't have something then she'd take it, and whoever had refused her would lose their head. The littlest misdemeanour would set off her mom's tantrums. All someone had to do was look at her wrong and she'd immediately jump to defence. The Red Queen's rage was never ending, from what Queenie had had the misfortune to see, and it was a rather powerful thing. It confused Queenie sometimes, since her mom had been so patient when she was growing up, never laying a hand on her or turning her anger on the young princess. But if someone other than Queenie was stupid enough to do something wrong then that anger would return with a vengeance, burning and destroying anyone - or anything - her mother set her sights on.
Queenie had been unlucky enough to inherit this odd family trait. She was, by no means, as powerful or quick to relinquish it like her mother, but it had made its appearance now and again. The beatings and near-death-experience Queenie had gone through had dulled it somewhat, but when she was alone and her thoughts got louder it hit her. Many times she'd had to clean up the den after her small 'episode', knowing that if anyone found out - mainly Harry - then they'd find some way to taunt her with it.
No one on the Isle knew about it; Not even Harry. But Mal was about to.
"Queenie?" the former leader inquired gently, and the young princess looked up. The blonde wasn't so relaxed anymore: If anything she'd done a complete switch while Queenie was sucked into her own mind. Mal now stared at her with something akin to concern, a strange thing to see from someone Queenie once feared, and she shuffled her feet nervously, as if she was completely ready to run if she had to.
Queenie did something then that neither her nor the former V.K. had expected. Something so sudden and so unnatural that it stunned them both.
She laughed.
Laughing on the Isle wasn't unheard of, in fact many did when they were hurting someone, but it was rather peculiar when it was coming from Queenie. The young princess rarely laughed anymore. She hadn't really found any enjoyment since she'd been left for dead after the Core Four left. And what was worse was that the laugh wasn't one of amusement; Far from it, in fact. It was silent at first, only growing as the seconds went by, until her shoulders were shaking from the sheer force of it. It was dark and twisted, the kind of sound someone would make before doing something absolutely terrible.
It reminded her of Harry.
"Queenie?" repeated Mal, this time with much caution, as if she was poking Chernabog with a stick.
The young princess hummed absentmindedly, her laughter dying down into giggles as Mal's voice drew her back to reality. She pushed back her dark curls and scrutinized the blonde stood a good distance away from her, slightly astounded to see the Isle's former ruler looking so frightened.
"You know you've been gone for six months, right?" the princess finally said, tilting her head to the side as she tried to shove the smirk from her face. She didn't feel like herself anymore, and it terrified her more than anything, but her actions weren't quite her own. She couldn't feel much, she couldn't feel anything; Nothing but overwhelming resentment.
"I know Q', I'm so-"
"Don't tell me you're sorry," the princess seethed, cutting through the apology before it was even given. She didn't want excuses, and she didn't want a pathetic apology with no meaning. She wanted six months of her life back. She wanted all of the hurt and emotional suffering she'd been subjected to taken away from her. But it was too late for that now.
"You left me here," she said pointedly. "You all skipped off to Auradon and left me on my own. How the fuck do you think I've been?!"
"I can't even begin to think about what you went through." Mal warily raised her hands in front of her as if it would protect her from harm, and her green eyes flickered towards the exit, her sneaky little mind already sussing out the many ways in which she could escape the sudden threat.
"No, you can't," the Princess of Hearts agreed with a small shrug. It kind of amused her how worried her old 'friend' seemed. Mal had always been the scary one, using her position as Maleficent's daughter to rule over the Isle. She'd spent so many years stealing, beating and hurting people, and to see her now so frantic and jumpy was rather hilarious to the young princess.
"I thought our parents would keep you safe," the blonde said as an explanation, carefully shuffling her way around the room and towards the exit.
"Oh, they did." Queenie sensed what Mal was up to as soon as she started to move, and the princess wasn't quite ready to end their discussion just yet. "I think they helped me because of you guys. I mean, how bad would it be for them if you freed everyone on the Isle and then found out they'd gone against you?" She lightly tapped the bat against the side of her head that wasn't injured. "They're smart people."
Mal quickly looked to the side and then back at Queenie, her face paling noticeably as she realised Queenie knew what she was up to.
"Do you want to know what happened after you guys chose 'good'?" the princess asked with slight mocking. It wasn't a question, and she wasn't expecting an answer either.
"Queenie-"
"Well," the dark-haired girl dragged out with a long sigh. "They kicked me out. After your mom got out and you took her down they really had no need to keep me around anymore. I still had this place," she waved a hand to gesture to the building they currently stood in, "but it didn't keep me safe for long."
Mal frowned, her eyes shining with utter remorse as she stared at the princess. In truth, she hadn't expected Queenie to be safe on the Isle when they left, but judging by the little one's unrelenting anger, she'd gone through something none of them had really considered. So, Mal decided to stay where she was and hear Queenie out. She owed her that at the very least.
"What happened to you, Q'?" she asked gently, dropping her raised arms to her sides. She'd done her fair share of running, and she wasn't too eager to do it again.
The Princess of Hearts paused, the outrage she'd felt slowly leaving her as she sensed Mal's strangely sympathetic tone. She'd expected to have to fight for the blonde to hear her, that she'd have to scare her into staying and hearing Queenie's story. But Mal stood stall and firm, her arms crossed as she patiently waited for Queenie to keep going. She wasn't bored, or trying to run. She was actually staying, completely invested in what the young princess had to reveal.
It was enough to throw Queenie, and with that distraction her other emotions came pouring in.
"They came after me," the princess whispered, her eyes flooding with tears of pain and sadness as she re-called everything that had happened before Harry found her. "All the people you stole from, bullied, all of them."
The young princess sobbed and threw her bat to the side, the weapon smashing one of the small windows that covered the main wall. She stumbled back into a wall, clutching at her hair as her head pounded and her heart ached. She slid down the hard surface and onto the cold floor, pulling her knees to her chest as she cried into her arms.
Once she'd safely determined that Queenie was no longer a threat to her, Mal took slow and steady steps toward the little princess, a little wary now that she'd seen just how much Queenie was like her mother. The princess's face didn't go a horrible shake of pink-red, but her outburst had certainly startled the daughter of Maleficent: Enough to make her wonder how long Queenie had been hiding that nasty little trait. She hadn't ever seen it when they were together on the Isle and, as far as Mal could recall, Jay hadn't ever mentioned it. But despite how scary it was to see the meek little princess so angry, Mal knew she had every reason to be that way.
"Q'," she whispered gently, loud enough for the little princess to hear her, but not so loud that it would scare her. "Queenie look at me."
When the Princess of Hearts raised her head, Mal gasped audibly. The blonde had seen her fair share of pain on the Isle, both physical and emotional, but nothing she'd ever seen could compare to how Queenie was now. She wasn't just hurt, or sad, she was absolutely miserable. And it made Mal wonder just how much torture the princess had gone through while they were gone.
"I am so, so sorry," she said clearly, looking directly into the princess's eyes. She needed to convey just how horrible she felt to know that Queenie had been hurt while they were gone. Mal couldn't lie to her and say that she'd thought about her once in Auradon, because the truth of it would only make things worse. But to see the princess so fragile and devastated because of a choice they'd made... well, it really had solidified her idea of staying on the Isle. Good people didn't leave their friends alone in a dangerous place, nor would they have forgotten about her. A good person would have stayed or - at the very least - come back to get said friend.
Mal was truly a villain. Plain and simple.
Queenie sniffled and leaned her head back against the wall. "You should've brought me over," she muttered. "I always wanted to see Auradon, y'know."
"You'd love it," the blonde assured her with a small smile. "The parties are amazing and the food is to-die for. Strawberries are the best." It hurt her a little to talk about how wonderful Auradon was when she'd willingly left it all behind, but her words were true and it seemed to be cheering the princess up.
"What the hell is a strawberry?" wondered Queenie.
"It's a fruit, real sweet and it goes amazing with sugar."
"Huh," the young princess muttered absentmindedly, lowering her eyes as she thought. Auradon sounded wonderful to her, like it was the place she was meant to be. And it killed her that she wouldn't ever be able to see it.
"Q'?" called Mal, and the princess looked up. "Are you okay?"
Queenie faltered, clamping her bottom lip between her teeth as she pondered the girl's question. She was living, but in her mind it seemed more like she was merely surviving. She very rarely felt any happiness, the warm and fuzzy emotion only ever came to her when she was alone with Gil or Dizzy, but even then it was a small fraction. For a good while now, her main feelings seemed to be that of dread, fatigue and an irritating pang of emptiness. She barely ate or drank anymore, only doing so when her stomach ached and a wave of nausea niggled at the back of her throat. She was alive, and she should have been more than grateful for just that, but she wasn't okay. Not by a long shot.
"I spent so long running, y'know." Queenie hiccupped and brushed away the remnants of tears with her sleeve, averting her gaze once more. "I nearly died once, but then he found me." A small smile twitched at Queenie's lips then, a small act that would've went completely unnoticed had Mal not been concentrating hard enough.
But she did see it, and it worried her immensely.
"Who found you?" the blonde questioned abruptly.
"He helped me," the princess replied, instead of answering Mal's question. She could've thrown Harry's name around but she chose not to, knowing full well that the old V.K. would throw an absolute bitch-fit if she found out Queenie had been running around with 'the enemy'. "He didn't have to, but he did."
"He the one that did that?" Mal pointed to the rather violent bruise on the side of Queenie's face, pursing her lips as she realised her old 'friend' had no intention of telling her who'd saved her. Whoever the guy was, Queenie seemed rather determined to protect him, and that only worried the blonde even more.
"It wasn't like that," the princess snapped curtly, alarming the girl in front of her once again. "I did something wrong Mal. You know how it works here."
"Yeah, yeah I do." Mal grumbled, rising to her full height as she frowned in thought. She racked her brain for someone - anyone - that could've helped Queenie during her time of need. But people on the Isle were greedy and selfish, and there were too many who would've jumped at the chance to claim someone from her group just for the sole purpose of gathering any useful information.
She was stumped.
"I'm gonna go get some air," she declared suddenly. "You coming?"
"Pass," the princess muttered with a small shrug. Even if she was allowed to leave her den, she wouldn't be able to. The outburst she'd had, along with her minor breakdown, had certainly done a number on the little princess.
"Alright," sighed Mal, slightly reluctant to leave Queenie on her own. She really didn't want to leave the princess when she was in such a state, but she couldn't exactly force her to leave the den if she didn't want to. Either way, Mal knew she needed to take a trip to Lady Tremaine's place, and maybe a little bit of sleep would do the princess some good.
The blonde-haired V.K. reached out and took Queenie's hands, ignoring the large flinch Queenie gave at the touch, and pulled the princess to her feet. She stored that little act the back of her mind, and settled on helping Queenie stumble her way towards the old couch.
"I'm gonna head out for a bit," she told Queenie once the princess was curled up on the couch. "I have some things to do."
Queenie gave a small hum in reply, carefully taking the offered blanket from Mal with a timid smile. She yawned and her eyelids fluttered closed, a flow of exhaustion hitting her body as soon as she was in a comfortable position.
As soon as Queenie's breathing evened out, Mal left the den, her mind flashing with a million thoughts as she jogged down the stairs. She had to find out who Queenie's new 'friend' was, and she had to do it fast.
~...~...~
The daughter of Maleficent stood to her feet and turned toward the pathetic excuse of a mirror. She bent over and stared at herself in the oddly-shaped shards of glass to see just how big of a change baby-Tremaine had done to her appearance.
The blonde with purple tips had been completely covered with a neon shade of pink-purple, the strands now completely straightened and cutting just below her shoulders, instead of hanging down to her waist. She honestly hadn't ever considered bangs, but they framed her face rather well and - if possible - enhanced the green in her eyes.
She looked every inch an Isle-Girl, and she loved it.
"Hey! There I am!" she exclaimed happily. Mal stood straight and turned to see a beaming Dizzy, the youngster overwhelmingly pleased at how well her first official 'make-over' had gone.
"Voila!" the young girl said cheerfully.
Mal grinned and reached into her jeans, pulling out a few notes and handing them to the youngest Tremaine.
"For me?!" the little one gasped with astonishment, clutching the bills to her chest as if it was pure gold.
"Yeah, you earned it," assured Mal, amusement shining in her eyes as she watched Dizzy skip towards the register with the money in hand. "Uh, Dizzy?" she asked slowly, flicking a fussy strand of hair back over her shoulder.
"Yup?"
"I kind'a need to ask you something," she began, her arms coming across her chest as she leaned against the dye-covered pillar behind her.
The youngest Tremaine stopped behind the register, her once-beaming smile fading into a small frown. She looked down at the money, her fingers flicking through the bills before she looked at Mal again. "It's about Queenie, isn't it?"
Mal moved away from the wall and straightened her posture, her eyes narrowing in on baby-Tremaine. She had planned on asking if the little one knew about anything that'd happened to the princess, the small thought approaching her mind once she remembered Evie mentioning that she and Queenie had visited the salon on more than one occasion. But with the way Dizzy was acting, practically jumping from nerves and hesitant to put the money in the register, which she should have done by now, Mal had a feeling there was more to it.
"Uh, yeah," the purple-haired girl said finally, realising the little one had been anxiously awaiting a reply. "Yeah it is. What happened to her?"
"Is she okay?!" the youngest Tremaine yelled agitatedly, and Mal cursed as she flinched at the little one's loud voice. "Is she hurt? Tell me she's okay, please!"
"Slow down, kid," said Mal, her head practically aching from the questions Dizzy had just fired at her. "Just tell me what happened," she implored, quieting her voice in the hopes Dizzy would do the same. After all the last thing either girl needed was Lady Tremaine stomping her way downstairs to find out what all the shouting was about.
"I was scared, okay? He came in here and told me that we'd both get hurt if I didn't do it. You have to believe me Mal, Queenie's my friend and I didn't think he'd hurt her-"
"Dizzy!" the daughter of Maleficent exclaimed, interrupting the little one's rather cryptic explanation. It was beginning to annoy her how no one seemed to be saying this guys name. It was all she really needed to determine how much trouble Queenie had stumbled into, and how hard it would be to get her only remaining Isle 'friend' back on her side. "Who hurt Queenie?"
"I-I-" the little Tremaine stuttered over her own words as she attempted to tell Mal just who Queenie had been running around with, but she barely had the chance.
"Fork it over ya runt."
Dizzy flinched and turned away from Mal, her head kept low as she handed the money she'd been given over to Harry, slowly shuffling from foot to foot as he stared her down.
"And the rest of it," the pirate said pointedly, lightly tapping his hook against the register. He placed the bills he had between his lips, holding out his hand for the money Queenie had let Dizzy keep only hours before.
Mal watched the exchange with nothing short of complete exasperation. She'd been so close to getting an answer from Dizzy before he barged his way into the salon, and she was hardly patient.
Instead of speaking up, since he obviously hadn't paid enough attention to actually see her, Mal decided to slowly scrutinize her old 'enemy' for the time being. He hadn't changed one bit. His attire remained the same and, much to her entertainment, he was still carrying around the cheap knock-off of his father's original hook, The only thing that had really changed was the fact he was now the one collecting payment from the Tremaine's, since Mal's mother had been the one to do so when they were all on the Isle.
Harry took the money from Dizzy and turned around, heading back out just as quickly as he'd come in. But while Mal knew she should have let him go so she could finish her important conversation with Dizzy, she couldn't help but say something. Screwing with him had always been so easy and fun for her, and she couldn't pass up such an opportunity.
"Still running errands for Uma? Or do you actually get to keep what you steal?" she finally called, a large part of her enjoying the way he froze at the sound of her voice.
"Well, well, well," the hook-wielding pirate drawled, slowly spinning around with the money in his hand. He gave Mal a small once-over, unable to conceal just how flabbergasted he was at her return. "What a nice surprise."
"Hi Harry," she greeted with a small nod.
"Just wait until Uma hears you're back." Harry grinned and sauntered toward her, looking her over once again. "She's never gonna give ya back yer old territory."
"Oh." Mal sighed in mock-disappointment, her eyes rolling skyward as she paused. She'd guessed that, from Harry's appearance alone, Uma had been the one to take over her old 'hunting grounds', as it were. And she had to admit a tiny part of her was rather impressed. She hadn't ever thought the small shrimp would have had it in her to accomplish such a thing, and despite the small hindrance it just meant that, when she eventually re-claimed her old territory, the victory would be even sweeter. Mal had never once lost anything to Uma and this time was no different.
"Well that's okay," she assured him with a shrug. "Because I will be taking it."
'After you find out who has Queenie,' Mal's inner-voice pointed out, reminding the V.K. of the real reason she'd stayed in the salon after having her hair dealt with.
The first mate swallowed and raised his chin, his eyes following his hook as he dragged it through Mal's newly-coloured tresses. "I could hurt you."
With quick reflexes she hadn't quite used in a short while, Mal gripped his wrist as he removed his hook from her hair, stunning the boy in front of her. She kept eye contact with Harry, a small smirk crossing her face at his reaction as she took the now-tasteless gum from her mouth and stuck it securely to the point of his hook.
"Not without Uma's permission I bet," she taunted as she pouted her lips, a tingle of satisfaction erupting in her body as Harry's eyes hardened at her statement.
It wasn't a secret on the Isle that Captain Hook was disappointed in his son's position as first mate. After all, it made perfect sense that the famous Captain would want his children to follow in his footsteps. But, for reasons Mal didn't know of, Harry had somehow become a second-in-command rather than a leader. It didn't seem to affect him in any way, since he did pretty much whatever he wanted no matter what, but Mal had always loved to torment him with the fact.
Harry said nothing at her words, instead giving the former Isle ruler a small nod. He stalked backward and toward the door, sticking Mal's old gum into his own mouth as he did so, and swept all of the items near the register onto the floor in - in Mal's own opinion - a pathetic display of anger.
When he was gone from the salon, Mal blinked herself back into focus, once again swaying herself back to the matter at hand.
"Anyway," she sighed, coming forward toward Dizzy. "What was it you wanted to tell me?"
Dizzy stopped and looked up, abandoning her current task of sweeping up the mess Harry had made to answer Mal's question. "I didn't think he'd hurt her," she muttered guiltily, slowly cleaning up the shards of glass. "Is she okay?"
Mal hesitated to answer, and Dizzy's small eyes flickered upward, a look of utter devastation on the little one's face. Whatever it was that had gone down between Queenie, Dizzy, and the mysterious guy Mal still didn't know the name of, it must've been something big. And it must have been the reason one side of Queenie's face now sported a large and purple bruise.
"She's fine," lied Mal, and Dizzy's face visibly lit up at the information. "She's just sleeping." A small, white lie was much better than the painful truth Mal had to hide. She knew full well that Queenie was far from 'okay': She was everything but. However, the daughter of Maleficent had gone through some changes over in Auradon, and the kindness she knew she still had somewhere inside of her restrained her from causing any more pain to Dizzy.
"So who's this guy?" the purple-haired girl asked curiously.
"How don't you know yet?!" the little Tremaine yelled incredulously, and Mal cursed and rolled her eyes as she jumped.
"Know what?" she groaned with annoyance, stomping her foot as a petulant child would. But how was she to blame? She hadn't been around in a while and no one seemed to want to tell her who Queenie's mysterious 'saviour' was.
"I don't really know much. I only know bits and pieces. Queenie tells me stuff, but she doesn't tell me everything. And people like to talk when you're doing their hair-"
"Dizzy! Tell me!" demanded Mal. Her worries about Lady Tremaine were long gone. Now, she just wanted to know who Queenie was hanging around with, and who his parent was. Everyone could be bargained with; Even the original villains.
Dizzy grimaced and picked up the broken pieces she'd swept into a small pile, dumping them unceremoniously onto the counter. "I-It's... um... Harry."
The little one's words were barely audible, but the salon was quiet and Mal, thankfully, had better hearing than most. "Harry?!" the V.K. repeated with disbelief, her eyes widening as Dizzy nodded. "Harry Hook? As in the guy I just insulted? That Harry?"
"Yes!" cried Dizzy, throwing her head back in aggravation. "I don't know how it happened, or why it happened, but yes."
"I, uh, have to go." Mal huffed, half-heartedly waving a hand at the youngest Tremaine as she left the salon.
"Say 'hi' to Queenie for me!"
Mal heard Dizzy's request loud and clear, but it went straight through one ear and out the other. She still couldn't get her head around the idea of Harry being the one to save Queenie. When she thought of whoever it was that helped the princess, she'd imagined a minor villain, someone she didn't care to know the name of. Someone she could easily take down.
Harry was on a much higher level. If he was the one that had helped Queenie, and he was the one her friend felt so indebted to, then that must have meant that Queenie was a part of Uma's crew. But if that was the case, then why hadn't Queenie run off to tell Uma the minute Mal arrived on the Isle? It didn't make sense.
'Unless,' Mal thought with a small groan. There was no way in hell Queenie was running with Uma. She wasn't wearing the usual pirate gear, and she didn't even have a sword.
The daughter of Maleficent had no idea what was going on, and that unnerved her more than anything. The only thing she knew was that Queenie was somehow tied to Harry. And if he'd had six months to break the little princess's mind and sway her onto his side, then winning her back wouldn't be as easy as she originally thought.
"Damn it Q'," the purple-haired girl muttered, picking up the pace as she rushed back to her den. "What did you do?"
