Of the line Grimhilde
Evie sat on a leather seat in an iron palace. Her face was impartial and her lips were positioned to make her look neither intimidating nor powerless. Her legs were crossed demurely and her nails were long and painted. On her head, she wore a tiara made of seashells and gold wires and her legs were stockinged and strong. To her left sat Mal- long hair plaited underneath a golden crown, bodily forced into a long dress and heels that weren't eight inches off the ground and plastic, and to her right sat Carlos and Jay, in white and black suits respectively, eyes bright and golden circlets balanced on their heads.
They looked down from their chairs at the man who lay on the floor in front of them, blood trickling from a gash in his cheek onto ripped and stained clothes, his forehead nearly touching the floor.
"I'll ask you one last time," she said coldly, eyes trained on the unfortunate figure in front of her, "did you poison Gizelle?" The man shook his head violently, rivulets of blood scattering across the tiled floor, and Evie's velvet shoes. She looked down in distaste and rolled her eyes towards Mal. The purple-haired faerie tilted the corner of her lip up, the only indication that she had even noticed the blood on her lover's shoe. To Mal, blood was like water- easy to find and commonly spilt on clothes. These shoes would probably end up in Mal's closet now, if just to make her mother think that she had killed someone recently. Mal had discovered young that murder on the Isle didn't help, that it only cut down the populace and made life easier for King Adam. That was probably when the four of them had become the Isle's justice system.
"Stand up, you coward. Face your punishment like a man," Mal hissed at the man cowering on the floor, nodding at a servant to pull him upright. Mal bowed for no one, not even her mother, "Tell the truth." Mal's compulsions were strong, her nature of Truth Seeker coming through, but the man kept his eyes on the tile patterns and shook his head frantically. The Fae scoffed and nodded at Evie, who sighed and rolled her eyes. Another false case. GJ would be disappointed. They'd really thought that they had the murderer this time.
"The court hereby finds you innocent of any crimes committed towards Gizelle and frees you from your previous sentence of fifty years penance. If you appear in this court again, it will become one hundred years. You may take your leave after the judges, and any confiscated possessions and property have now been returned to you. Good Day." With that, she rose and brushed out of the room, shortly followed by Carlos and Jay. Mal delivered one last, swift kick to the stomach of the defendant, and then exited after them, already taking off the crown and undoing her hair (as much as Mal liked ordering people around, she was not so much a fan of the court proceedings, specifically the dress code).
"Can't you at least wait until we're out of the building?" Evie asked, though with no real malice. She grabbed the crown before Mal could drop it where she stood. A servant hurried over to take all their crowns and then dissolved into shadows as soon as they had. Jay rolled his eyes and swept Evie up into a bridal hold, smirking down at her, "But where would the fun it that be, Genevieve?" He too had already abandoned the tightest pieces of his clothing, the suit jacket lost somewhere in the hall behind them, his tie loosened and his top button undone. Evie shrieked, trying to worm her way out of his grasp, but he held her tight, carrying her smoothly up a flight of stairs to her room.
The court was held in what was technically her mom's palace. It was in the Evil Queen's name, and Evie had far too many memories of being forced to burn books, apply and reapply makeup in these halls for it to really be anything else, but on the weekends that her mother spent at Maleficent's or Cruella's (all of them), expecting her to sit politely and quietly and sew and cook, the castle with iron walls was theirs, and the screams that echoed the halls were Evie and the whimpers were Carlos and the crashes were Mal and Jay.
And Jay lay her down and started unbuttoning the dress she wore, Mal pulling off her shoes and Carlos massaging her breasts, her blue hair splayed out, wild and beautiful. Mal was (somehow) already out of her dress, and then Jay leaned down and whispered into her ear, "It's so much more fun when we do it like this, my Queen." And Evie faded out, leaving four people as beautiful as they were rotten.
When she resurfaced four hours later, the horizon was dark, and the beacon of light that was Auradon gleaming outside her window. She climbed out of bed, careful not to disturb the tangled mess of limbs around her, and walked over to the window. The artificial light bounced off her bare skin, and if she stared at the glowing city long enough, she could almost believe what her lovers said, that she'd rule there one day, with them by her side, instead of the prince her mother was so desperate to prepare her for. She heard a creaking.
"I'll come back to bed soon, Carlos. Hang on."
"Not Carlos," the person replied, "and I'm not asking you to." Mal stood behind her, a sheet of some sort wrapped around her body, smiling at Evie. Her hair was tangled and there was probably more of her lipstick on Jay's torso than on her lips, but to Evie, she was beautiful. The Fae creature drifted forward, to stand next to Evie at the window, and leaned her head on the blue-haired girl's shoulder, "Do you doubt that you will one day be a queen of Auradon, even as the champion of Conquest?" Mal's question sounded innocent, but nothing about Mal ever was. There was a message to everything. Do you doubt us?
"Never."
The two queens smiled at each other, half-vindictive and half-excited. Mal's eyes fluttered in the dim light of the Isle and tattoo on her collarbone gleamed, the magic in the sigil playing up in the witching hour.
"When we take over Auradon, the first thing I'll do is make you a real throne. One with silk and ribbon. And then everyone will see you as I do, Genevieve Amara Grimhildejardöttir. And you will be radiant."