Auradon. Present Day.
"Mal, Mal, just stop for a minute, okay?"
Ben reached for Mal as she flitted past him for the second time in as many minutes.
Since her promise in the ambulance, she hadn't stopped.
She'd stuck her head into the front of the ambulance, demanding to know what the plans were for their arrival at the hospital. And then she had swore a lot while demanding the driver call the receiving doctor so "they could put some proper fucking protocols in place."
Ben and his mother had pushed his father's stretcher into the hospital and to an operating room under a purple energy field while Mal barked orders at everyone without shouting distance.
Mal had done something with her Dragon Eyes, probably looking straight into the lead trauma surgeon's soul, before she had lowered the forcefield and let the team near the King. She had recapped the steps she'd taken, then glared at the team and threatened to remove their spleens through their noses if anyone so much as thought about harming him.
Royal protocol stated that whenever a member of the family was in hospital - for everything from sprained ankles during Tourney practice to births and heart surgeries - they were housed in the middle of an emptied floor.
Mal had decided it was too risky to walk through the halls of the hospital to that point. And she didn't want to leave his father alone.
Her solution? Summon her father to babysit the trauma team, while she teleported to the designated floor.
Which brought them to where they stood; his mother, pale and shaking on a sofa. He was barely holding it together. And Mal, flitting about the room muttering incantations at a rate of knots. Rearranging the furniture into a more defensible position. Flicking from news channel to news channel without explaining what she was searching for - or touching a remote.
Ben thought he wouldn't be surprised after watching the waves of energy pulse from her hands every few seconds. Some were green, some were golden, others were pink. They had all flowed across the room before shimmering when they hit the walls.
But then she started throwing furniture and medical equipment around just by pointing at it, and Ben felt like he'd seriously underestimated his girlfriend.
He'd seen more magic in the last hour than he had in the last year.
And she was so comfortable with it.
He'd once told her that the Isle Bitch was just a character she played to survive. That he saw the real her. But this, her magic, she wore it like a second skin.
Could it really be just another of her masks?
"Mal, just...breathe."
Ben ran his hands over the tops of her arms and shoulders, attempting to reassure himself as much as he was trying to calm her.
Two hours ago they hadn't spoken for a month. An hour ago they were making up. And now...now she was acting like a dragon protecting it's hoard.
His head was spinning. He needed to ground himself. He couldn't be an effective leader if he couldn't stop the room from spinning.
He should probably be wondering when he started needing Mal to function properly - but if the last six weeks had proved it, today only reinforced it. He needed Mal by his side. And he was willing to do anything to make that happen.
Mal came to him easily, as if his arm catching her mid stride was enough to set off some kind of homing beacon. She stepped into his space, arms winding around his waist in a death grip.
It was the first time Ben could think of where Mal was clinging to him.
Ben was a hugger. Mal had learned to enjoy it. She'd even started initiating snuggles in the few months before their fight. But it was a work in progress, she was still working on lowering her defences. Letting him know she needed him too.
So if she was unsettled enough to cling, maybe he wasn't the only one who needed grounding.
"I can breathe once whoever is behind this power grab is burnt to a crisp." Mal growled as Ben enveloped her in the safety of his arms. She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "You aren't safe yet, Ben. Your dad was just the beginning."
"We don't know that." Ben rested his chin on top of her head, feeling the world begin to come back into focus.
Ben noticed the way his mother was watching them, a sad smile on her face. From the way she was gripping her arms, Ben knew she was missing her person too.
"It's the only thing that makes sense." Mal pulled back enough that she could turn in his arms to include Belle in the conversation.
Other than a few words of introduction in the ambulance, Ben hadn't been able to introduce his mother to Mal properly. They hadn't had a second to breathe. And it felt a bit flat doing it without his father there, or following the events of the afternoon with 'so, this is my girlfriend and her mother is our sworn enemy'.
But Belle was too overwhelmed to react badly. And Mal had been too busy managing the hell out of the crisis to worry about being nervous in front of his parents.
Mal fixed the queen with an even look as she began to list the possible scenarios she'd been running through since she'd handed Adam off to the trauma team, urging his mother to trust her. If there was one thing Mal knew, it was the politics of disruption. She was the expert in the room, and she was on their side.
She wanted to help. She needed to help.
"Deranged loner with a gun? You'd have caught him at the outreach centre. Lone wolf out for revenge? He wouldn't have stopped shooting when the King went down. Terrorism? Not a problem in Auradon since you locked all the villains up. Other countries' terror groups don't really care about us that much. Besides, if it was, someone would have claimed responsibility by now. Coup? The military would have stormed the hospital. Which takes me back to my first thought. A legitimate power grab."
That was the only scenario that made sense. Evil didn't exist in the way it had twenty five years ago. There was no magic, no curses. There were good people who did bad things, and bad people who did worse things.
The most dangerous villain was one who thought he was on the path of the righteous. Who thought he was the hero.
People like Judge Frollo.
"I don't understand." Belle came closer, still gripping her arms. Ben realised his mother was still wearing her blood soaked dress. They should probably do something about that.
Before he could vocalise that thought, he felt Mal soften in his arms.
"Here, let me fix that," she said softly, stepping out of Ben's grasp. She stepped in front of his mother, her moves careful, as if she was scared of startling her. "I'm not Evie, but this should be more comfortable."
Holding two fingers together, she drew them in front of Belle in the shape of a folded ribbon. A yellow light followed her movements, then engulfed his mother's body. As the light shimmered, and her dress was replaced with another from her wardrobe. The bloodied dress reappeared by the window, folded into a clear bag.
Belle looked down in surprise, then looked back at Mal. Ben couldn't read his mother's expression, but when Belle pulled Mal into a hug any worries he had disappeared.
Ben almost wanted to be standing on the other side of them so he could see the shock he knew would be on Mal's face.
After a long moment, Belle pulled back with tears in her eyes. She reached up to cup Mal's face, a move Ben remembered from when he was younger and in need of reassurance. Ben had never questioned the size of his mother's heart, but now he was wondering why he'd worried about his parents' reactions.
"We've known about you for months," Belle admitted, glancing between Ben and Mal. "We were just waiting on Ben telling us."
Before either of them could respond - they thought they'd been so careful - Belle took a deep breath in an attempt to pull herself together. Dropping Mal's face, she looked more like the Queen of Auradon than she had since Adam hit the pavement. "Mal is part of your life. That makes her part of this family. She gets a say in this."
Belle looked at Mal expectantly, "What do we do?"
Mal looked back at Ben, shellshocked. Whatever they'd expected, this wasn't it. Nodding encouragingly, Ben stepped forward and reached out to link his fingers with hers.
Taking a deep breath, Mal began outlining her logic. Ben knew she was choosing her words carefully. This wasn't the Isle, she wouldn't need to explain this to Evie, Jay or Carlos. They lived in that world. They'd just know.
He had a feeling Auradon had no idea what was about to hit it.
"The best time to steal power is during a time of unrest or upheaval - mourning periods, changes of power, elections, natural disaster, crisis. Any time emotion is high, or loyalties might be low, where people are scared or angry, where the rulers aren't established. That's the time you can most leverage the situation to your advantage." Mal glanced back at Ben, her eyes telling him what she couldn't. That she hadn't been lying when she said the Isle had needed her the last few weeks. That the absence wasn't entirely about them.
It was about their duty. The people who depended on them for calm. For stability.
Power was hard won, and easy lost.
It was a constant work in progress.
"Depending on the type of power grab, they'll either come for you next, or they'll try to sweep in to support you and force you down a course of action." Mal held Belle's gaze for her next words, knowing she needed to clarify it before anyone else could suggest it. Ben would never question her, but if this went south, Ben wouldn't be enough. That Mal knew this without his input proved she was a leader in her own right. "I realise I just described myself. But I wouldn't be this sloppy."
"Tell me what you'd do." Ben tugged her back around so that she faced him, his face grim.
"Ben?" Mal questioned, not quite understanding what he was getting at. He could almost hear her thoughts.
Did he really want her to stand there in front of his mother and detail all the ways she could think to kill him and steal his crown? That her point had been to make Belle realise the severity of the situation - as if watching her husband bleed out hadn't been enough - not scare her into seeing enemies at every turn.
"If this was you...what would you do next?" He pressed, sounding less like her boyfriend and more like a Commander-in-Chief. His father had been preparing him to step into his shoes since he was a child. Ben was prepared to do it. He just hoped it was a temporary appointment. "What am I up against?"
"Well if it was me, I'd do a better job." Mal eventually relented, letting go of Ben's hand and resuming her pacing. She couldn't meet his eye as she discussed his potential murder, sounding as uncomfortable as she looked as she rhymed off the steps, "It would be the Black Widow play. Off-grade draught of the living dead. Correct enough to still be colourless, odorless and tasteless. Off spec enough that it's slow acting and would actually kill you. It's Evie's speciality."
Mal shrugged, and Ben didn't want to ask what circumstances had led to that outcome. He'd read the files. He knew the body counts. Sometimes, the past was better left there.
"Slip it in the King's wine, when he dies in his sleep that night, no one is surprised. He had a long life. A good life. Everyone mourns. You come to me, heartbroken. I console you. You tell me you don't know how you're going to do this. How you'll fill his shoes. How can we sneak around now you're King? I put up a bit of a fight, but reluctantly agree to be your queen. People are wary of me, but I'm a good queen. I push fair policies, get the kids off the Isle. Smile at the right people, host the right events. I get right down to the making babies business, because an heir and a spare reinforce my position."
Mal stopped suddenly, the next words stuck in her throat. Closing her eyes, as if the mere thought pained her, she ground out. "And then you die in a tragic car accident. Bonus points if the kids and I are in the passenger seats. Our three year old would be too young to rule themselves, so the duty falls to me."
Belle was white, and Mal looked a little sick.
"But this isn't me," she eventually continued, breaking the heavy silence in the room. If Ben had ever forgotten about her roots, this was the only reminder he needed. He just had to make sure he didn't lose her to it. The odds were good, last time they'd discussed his murder, she'd smirked.
"I think we need to watch for two things. A second attempt on the King, or an attempt on Ben. Something isn't right here, Ben. Where's the Guard? Your parents both have personal bodyguards, but neither one of them got in the ambulance."
And just like that, it was back to business. Back to the things she could influence and anticipate and fight, "It's been what, almost an hour since the attack? There isn't a single member of the Auradon Guard in this building. Where are they? The press managed to get here within minutes of us. I don't want you in public. And we watch for anyone who tries to push for control and take advantage of the situation. In the meantime, we look into who did this ourselves."
"I'll send Mulan for Evie and the boys." Ben agreed, reaching for his cellphone.
Mulan and Shang had left the Emperor's Imperial Army when Mulan found out she was pregnant with Lonnie. They'd relocated to Auradon, taking up his father on his offer of setting up an elite unit separate from the Auradon Guard. They also had their own private security consulting firm.
Lonnie and her two younger brothers worked for their parents, Lonnie in addition to her duties representing Auradon on the woman's Swords & Shields Team. After Mal, Lonnie and her family were the first people he'd call to have his back.
Glancing at his phone for the first time since the attack, he was unsurprised to see it had blown up.
Thirty six calls from Lonnie and a detailed text message explaining exactly what he needed to do.
A message from Mulan reminding him that they were there when he needed them and were thinking of his parents.
One hundred and twenty four missed calls from Doug. At least half of them left voicemails.
A voicemail and a text from Audrey - 'We're flying home. Call me'.
Ninety three calls from Mrs Potts. A dozen texts from Lumiere. One hundred and fifty six from Cogsworth.
A string of expletive laden messages from Lancelot, who seemed to be out of his mind with worry, caught his eye.
It made Mal's point about the Guard clearer.
It had been an hour. And of the dozens of people who were paid to care about his safety, only one had been in contact.
Ben was about to dial Mulan's number, to dispatch her team to the Isle, when Doug's name flashed up. A sudden need to talk to his best friend surged through his chest, and he answered on the first ring.
Doug obviously hadn't expected Ben to answer, because he was mid-argument with someone when the call connected. "-n't care, I will blow up his goddamn phone until he- Ben!"
There was something so comforting about Doug's indignant anger - the way he cared so much he was furious - that all Ben could manage was a watery laugh.
Things didn't get much better when Doug promptly burst into tears, with Mal and Lonnie taking control of the call when Ben joined him.