Of the line Hades
The room that she lived in was dark and cold, water leaking from a crack in the ceiling and creating a hollowed puddle on the wooden floor. The room was sparse, with a threadbare rug near a cold fireplace, and an armchair with a broken foot in the corner. Any pieces of bedding the girl owned was laid out in a bed-like shape in the corner. The nicest thing in the house was on one of the stone walls. A painting of two women, one as pale as the moon with bloody lips and pitch black eyes, and the other a little girl with her white hair in pigtails, her blue-ish skin glowing and her irises shining an incandescent gold. A tabby kitten with missing patches of floor was curled up on the bedding, shedding hair all over the thin duvet and pillow.
The girl from the painting entered the room, except she was obviously several years older than depicted in the picture. Her limbs were long and thin, thin enough to see the bone through the skin, and her skin had the same blue tinge, but she looked healthy. Her hair was thick, although it was currently in a french braid, and her eyes were sharp. Whatever else was wrong with this girl, it was not sickness.
She started to go through some form of a routine. She deposited a silver dagger that was dripping with blood onto a rickety dressing table. She placed a leather-bound and breaking book into the only open slot in the bookshelf that hung from the wall. She went to the painting and the bedding in the corner and the armchair and checked for something. Once satisfied, she lit the fireplace with a flick of her fingers and nodded satisfactorily to herself. Finally, she picked up a cloth from the mantelpiece and the dagger from the dresser and sank down into the armchair, and started cleaning the bloodied metal.
Then several things happened at once- first, the girl went into a coughing fit. Next, the cat jumped up, hairs on end, and streaked out the room into the rest of the house. Finally, a boy with hair as white as hers, if dyed black at the roots, climbed in through the window, followed by three others- a girl with long purple hair and long nails, a pale girl with large eyes and blue hair, and a dark-skinned boy with red streaks in his hair. After this procession of events, the girl managed to right herself, and she turned to face the four intruders. For a second, she glared. Then her lips curled into a wicked smile.
'I should have expected you, no?" Was her starting question, and Carlos smiled, heading over to hug her. They were close in how they enjoyed spreading destruction and death, although neither of them came anywhere near Mal (she didn't know that). She gestured to the floor, the only place to sit in the cramped room, and the blue-haired girl's eyebrow went up. The host rolled her eyes and offered the broken armchair, which was taken gladly. The rest of them sat on the floor.
"I'd have personally been offended if you'd expected anything else," Carlos said, leaning back against her wall, "after all, Hayley, you would have done the exact same thing." Hayley nodded, unable to deny it. She would have done the same thing. She'd have done more, "What brings you to my humble abode?" Humble indeed, but it would do for now. After all, she'd eventually be a queen, and then no one would be able to match her. Except, possibly, the four sitting in front of her.
"Exchange student programme," Jay replied, smirking. His fingers were twitching as if he was desperate to grab something, and his eyes darted across the room, looking for hiding places for anything of real value. Luckily, Hayley had nothing of real value except the painting. Not yet. "We're being sent to Auradon. We need you to run the Court while we're gone." It was a promise of power, and most in the Isle would gladly jump on it, but she wasn't most. Her eyes narrowed, "Why me? Gaston and Lei have been campaigning for years. They know the system." He nodded, pleased with her answer.
"We do still want our positions back," he reminded her, "If everything goes as planned, you could be a queen in a meagre five years, just so long as you run the Isle according to our wishes and bide your time." And wow, didn't that offer get her all tingly. Queen alongside these four was like a mortal among gods. Except she was the god, and they were the mortals. She told them as much, "I'm a goddess. I could take whatever I want." The purple-haired girl smiled, and Hayley knew she knew that Hayley had absolutely no training in using her godly powers, only the mortal ones that everyone could have, should they try hard enough.
"Fine. Say I do. Queen of what? There's a big difference between Queen of England and Queen of Mexico. What am I signing up for?" Finally, the prettiest spoke up, and her voice was like her appearance- quiet and beautiful.
"Queen of Death."
And Hayley understood. They had the power to take her off the Isle, to put her on her rightful throne, but wouldn't unless she agreed to serve under them, to follow their wishes. They were making deals with a devil, and Hayley smiled because deals were her expertise. "Alright then. I'll get the paper and pens. We have a deal to create."
Later, after hours and hours of bargaining and dealing and revising, Hayley collapsed into the recently-abandoned armchair. Her palm throbbed where she'd cut it for blood to sign with, and she closed her eyes. 'It was worth it' she told herself and checked the ink stains on her palm. She sank further into the chair and stroked the tabby cat, which had reappeared into the third or fourth hour of negotiating. She would be the queen. She would. No matter who or what stood in her way.