The Isle. 1 year before.
"Who are you?"
It was taking Ben's brain a moment to catch up with reality. The mushroom cloud created by the smashed potions was still affecting his vision. Through the patches of pink dust, he could make out a grey room, and a lot of purple.
Purple hair, specifically.
He glanced down - it was as much as he could do with a knife by his cheek and an arm across his throat - and yep, that was definitely purple hair.
Purple hair which belonged to a woman about his age. With glowing green eyes and a glare that stopped him in his tracks.
"Who am I? More importantly, where the fuck am I?" Ben found his voice, and somehow managed to sound irritated rather than terrified. He had clearly lost his sense of self preservation. But he continued anyway, "And Jesus Christ, what's with the dagger? Is that how you greet everyone who drops by for a visit?"
The girl studied him carefully for a long moment, still guarded. Ben couldn't tell if she was about to yank the dagger out the wall and finish him off, or call the asylum and enquire about any escaped lunatics. Her eyes landed on his clothes - a royal blue shirt, opened at the neck, white trousers, dress shoes - and her brow furrowed. Then recognition flashed across her face, and the green glowing stopped. Her eyes were a softer shade of green now, with little gold flecks that he hadn't expected.
"Well, well." She dropped her arm from his throat and stepped back, leaving the dagger where it was. Tilting her head, she laughed coldly, "Welcome to the Isle, Prince Benjamin."
Now that she'd stepped back, he got a better look at the girl.
She wasn't much taller than his friend Jane, Fairy Godmother's daughter, but that was where the similarities to girls he knew ended. Her purple hair was the first thing he noticed - the short bangs and flowing curls - and it contrasted sharply with her pale skin. Not like she didn't go out in the sunlight often, it was more like the woodland fairies and nymphs he'd met on his last trip to the Moors.
But it was her clothes that gave her away.
There was only one place in Auradon that leather armour was the norm. And it was the last place the son of King Adam should want to be.
"You're Mal, daughter of Maleficent." Ben kept his tone even, meeting her eyes. She was the one player on the Isle who managed to stay out of his monthly briefings. It was like she knew about the big brother spell, and stayed out of it's way. He'd never seen her face, despite knowing her lieutenants and minions well. "And Hades, but that part isn't common knowledge."
Ben knew he'd scored a point in his favour when her expression froze. It only lasted a moment before she obviously decided he amused her, and let a smirk play across her features. It was a challenge, and for some reason, he was ready to accept it, "Yet the future King of Auradon knows all."
"Little tip off from your Uncle Zeus." Ben shrugged, casually looking around the room he'd landed in. He wasn't stupid enough to try and escape, but if he could keep her talking, maybe he could find a connection with her. "I couldn't understand why Hades remained on the Isle when he wasn't bound by the barrier. He stays because that's where his daughter is."
That little revelation had been a shock to Ben. They'd thought the barrier was impenetrable. Secure. Something that would outlast Fairy Godmother and his parents and remain in place as long as it was required.
And then to discover that the daughter of Maleficent, the worst villain of them all, wasn't bound...it should have bothered him more than it did.
At the time, he'd reasoned that if something bad was going to happen, it already would have. He had to assume Mal knew she wasn't trapped. Had to assume that Hades had contacted his daughter at some point to begin her training.
It was a known fact that untrained magic was a powder keg. If you couldn't control your emotions, if you had no way to channel the energy, it could be explosive.
The barrier should have kept that all under control.
But if god powers weren't inherently good or evil, they just were, then that was a powder keg Hades was responsible for.
By the way her eyes had glowed, and the way she reigned it back in, Ben knew he'd been safe in that assumption.
"Nice setup. I thought villains' lairs were supposed to be dark dingy dungeons." The words were out his mouth before he could filter them.
He meant them, but whether or not that was a wise decision remained to be seen.
It looked like he was standing in some kind of loft space, the kind you would see above a warehouse. The room was well fortified - only a few small windows lined the join between the wall and the ceiling. But it was...homey.
There were beat up sofas and armchairs, but they were accessorised with home made cushions and blankets. The walls were alive with colour, murals covered every surface. Mal's gang tag - her mother's silhouette with the words 'long live evil' - covered one wall. But he also spotted apples, portraits and a genie.
A large wooden table took up one corner of the room, and judging by the papers and maps spread across it, that was where Mal had been standing when he appeared.
"Sorry to disappoint." Mal shrugged, still studying him carefully. "Aren't you going to beg for your life? Cower in fear? Convince me not to hand you over to my mother?"
"If you were going to hand me over to your mother, I'd be bound, gagged and at her feet by now. Your reputation precedes you. You're ruthless, and you're smart."
Mal had started her life of villainy early. They'd expected nothing less from Maleficent.
There were documented instances of Mal wreaking havoc on the Isle from the moment she could walk. She'd maimed one of the Auradon Guard when she was eight. By fourteen, she was her mother's most effective enforcer.
At fifteen, she was spearheading a land grab, expanding her mother's territory. She installed VK gangs loyal to her as marionettes in the territories she claimed. Supported hostile takeovers in the ones she didn't take herself - not because she'd failed, but because she'd actively chosen to take the other route.
By eighteen, she was the most feared individual on the island. She had created a structure to the Isle. She commanded respect and instilled fear.
By twenty-one, the Palace had acknowledged the girl was more powerful, more dangerous than her mother. Not because she was crazier, or had killed more people, or because she was a demigod. But because she was smart, and ruthless, and let her mother take the stage while she pulled the strings.
She was the dark to his light.
She was his inverse - his Isle counterpart.
In time, she'd become Queen of the Isle. Just like he'd become King of Auradon.
Their paths should have stayed parallel.
"Flattery will get you nowhere," Mal waved a finger at Ben, almost in chastisement. She turned, the chains at her hips swaying as she moved. Ben followed the movement, entranced. "But you're right, Bennyboo. I'm not going to hand you over to my mother." Audrey's nickname sounded mocking coming from her. So why did he want to hear her say it again.
"You'd die a slow, painful, public death. And then what's left of you would be displayed at the harbour for the supply ships to see." She didn't sound opposed to that outcome. She said it as calmly as if she was discussing the weather. She shrugged, still stalking around the room. She'd grabbed an apple somewhere - maybe she conjured it, he didn't know - and was tossing it from hand to hand as she spoke. "And then what? We break free? Break Auradon's spirit?"
Mal scoffed, rolling her eyes. Her voice was taking on that mocking tone again, but this time he was sure it wasn't aimed at him. "No, then what happens is daddy dearest gives the order to flatten the Isle."
His father wouldn't do that. That was genocide.
No one fancied being tried for war crimes.
He didn't point that out.
Mal spun back to face Ben, pointing at him with the apple. Her eyes began to glow, her face lighting up with excitement. " You are my bargaining chip."
Mal let out a cackle that made Ben's hair stand on end.
He felt drawn in, somehow. He should be running, he should be trying to get to the port. Instead, he wanted to stay. Find out more about this girl who intrigued him.
Mal grabbed a cone from the wall and pulled it towards her. Ben recognised it as one of the pipe comms that was common in old castles.
Then he remembered there was a technology block on the Isle.
Mal spoke without taking her glowing eyes off of Ben. They looked like a dragon's eyes, he decided. "Jay, send a message to the Guard. I want a meeting. First light."
Ben knew who 'Jay' was. Son of Jafar.
Mal kept a close circle of power. She had minions, sure. But her inner sanctum was only open to Jay ("The Muscle", according to his Palace file), Evie, daughter of the Evil Queen ("The Grifter"), and Carlos, son of Cruella DeVil ("The Brains"). And Mal was the Puppet Master.
There were rumours Mal and Jay were together. And for some reason, Ben wanted to growl at that thought.
After a moment, Mal pushed the cone away, obviously happy with Jay's response.
She looked at Ben for a long moment, and he wished he could read her as well as she could read him.
The manic grin reappeared. She clasped her hands together and bounced on the balls of her feet.
For some reason, this scared Ben more than anything else that he'd seen so far.
"But in the meantime...let's show you the prison your daddy created."