Mal.
Seventeen. Junior year.
The next morning, Mal slept in. Her bed was like an overstuffed cloud. So it wasn't the hardest decision she'd ever made to roll back under the covers once she'd replied to Ben's cheerful good morning wake up text.
By the time she finally ventured down into the kitchens somewhere around noon, she'd already explored her giant en suite (her waterfall shower was her new favourite thing) and been terrified by the options in her walk-in closet. Mal didn't know where the clothes had come from, probably one of the demons had gone shopping or one of her father's sisters had stepped in, but it was...an adjustment.
She'd always worn purple. Always. The colours of her mother's House were purple and green, even if Maleficent wore only black nowadays. The colours of the House of Uranus were various shades of blue. So, despite being a few generations and two wars out from him, her father and his brothers had kept the colour for their own bloodlines.
Midnight blue for Hades, ice blue for Zeus, sea blue for Poseidon.
It sounded so harmless when you said it like that. But it meant that more than half the wardrobe was...blue.
There was some purple, thankfully. And greens. And pinks. And, urgh, pastels. But the reminder that she was more than 'just Mal' now was loud and clear.
She finally settled on black - pants, tank top, and flat boots. Black was safe. Non-committal. Neutral ground.
It was a change, in a way - Mal of the Isle had never sat on the fence in her life. But today...today was a one off.
Her father didn't say anything about her choice when she entered the kitchens, a wide open space with an oversized island right in the middle of the room, and she was thankful for it. Instead, he looked up from the pile of reports he was reading and smiled. Then asked what she wanted for breakfast and one snap later it was there.
Then he showed her how to conjure her own food.
Lesson number one.
…
After they'd eaten, Hades announced they'd be starting their day with a tour of the Underworld.
Her father's palace - she was still trying out the words 'her home' - sat on a strip of land near the point where the rivers of the Underworld met. From the balcony outside her father's office, they could see the entire kingdom.
They started with a quick history lesson on the rivers, easily distinguished by the different ways they were made up - souls, mist, fire, wailing cries. Mal felt like she should have been more disturbed by the sight of a million souls rushing by. Instead, it felt like another piece she didn't know was missing had fallen into place.
Then they ventured to the Asphodel Meadows on the opposite side of the Phlegethon. Then onto the city of Elysium. Then back to the Palace through the Mourning Fields. Her father teleported them between places without breaking his stride, as easily as opening a door and stepping through.
Their power, her father explained, came simply from their will. It was a power limited only to the gods.
Her mother's magic was wrapped up in incarnations, or channeled through her sceptre. And Mal was more than welcome to continue to use those methods, he explained, because that was her heritage too.
But his way, she just had to will it.
She had to focus. Visualise it. Eventually, she'd be able to do it as easily as tying her shoelaces.
Mal really wanted to try it all out.
After stopping for dinner - Mal was shocked when her father asked her to conjure their food, and even more shocked when her attempt at pizza turned out well - her father transported them to the other side of the Gates. While the Underworld had surprised her, with its green fields and blue skies, the land around the Gates was exactly what she expected.
Barren. Dark. An oppressive kind of heat. Sulphur lingering in the air.
Sticking close to her father's side, Mal met the Gate Deities - personifications of human nature - and the beasts sentenced to guard the Underworld forevermore.
The deities looked at her with more than a little curiosity, but they were polite. Mal didn't know if it was her father's presence, or her own rank, that kept them in line for now, because she knew they were dying to talk about the return of 'their Lord's stolen child'. The tick in her father's jaw told her he felt it too.
The beasts, on the other hand, were genuinely respectful. Mal couldn't contain her surprise as the Centaurs dropped into deep bows, or when the Gorgons smiled deviously and presented her with a dagger laced with their poison 'just in case'.
Her father's nod, and her own instincts, told her it was a genuine offering. She accepted it with confidence, and when one of the snakes in the lead Gorgon's hair hissed in greeting, Mal grinned.
This felt like home.
...
We get all the souls, and that's what calls our bloodline to the Underworld. The need to be amongst the souls and the humanity and to bring order to the chaos.
I don't feel like sitting on the sidelines watching things go to hell is bringing order.
We could. If we wanted to. Humanity is messy. The chaos that comes with being human, it's our bread and butter. We wouldn't be who we are without it.
Why do we charge for the ferryman?
We don't. You can't bring anything with you. That's just a rumour I started to push on social policy. Death comes for everyone Mallie, it's just a matter of when.
Then why-
I can afford to be patient. And I like my souls healthy.
...
"Evenin' boss, mini-boss."
Mal turned when a hoarse voice appeared behind them. They were on the banks of the river Styx as her father explained the ins and outs of ferrying souls to their final resting places.
She hadn't realised they weren't alone.
The hooded figure, standing on a simple wooden barge, gripped his pole tightly as he waited for her father's attention. Mal was sure this was the ferryman. His dirty cloak, unkempt beard, and jet black eyes were a dead giveaway.
"Charon." Hades nodded without looking up from the tablet that Panic had appeared and handed over a few moments before. "Everything ready?"
"The soul is just down the river, little old lady from Auradon. Has no idea what's coming." Charon was businesslike, almost bored. He reminded her of the dockhands that had aligned with Captain Hook - rough around the edges, with a dry wit buried in there and an incomparable work ethic.
Mal frowned when her father passed the tablet to her, "Ready for your first soul?"
"I...what?" Mal stumbled over the question, glancing down at the screen anyway. Mary Foster. Eighty three. Heart attack. Owned the fruit stall in the city market. Fear settled in Mal's stomach when she realised she'd met this woman at least twice when Ben had dragged them out to explore the city. "I've only been here...a day?"
"No time like the present." Hades grinned, clapping his hands together eagerly. Then he turned to look at her properly, and something softened in his eyes. Charon averted his gaze without instruction. Placing a hand on her shoulder, he added, "I'll be right there beside you, the whole time."
Mal took a deep breath, and her bracelet hummed against her skin. She was still terrified, but she was ready. She nodded twice, briskly, "Okay."
Hades squeezed her shoulder and gave her an encouraging smile. Mal nodded again, releasing the breath she didn't realise she was holding, then made for the boat.
Charon stepped backwards, making room for her, and when she stepped onto the barge she was surprised by how steady it was. Her father followed her on, took her shoulders and guided her to where she needed to be. Then he began whispering the process.
"We only ferry souls personally on busy days, natural disasters mostly, or for ritual burials. Charon does the rest. You can pick your own level of engagement once you've gotten comfortable. I pick a few adult souls every so often to keep myself fresh. And I do all the children."
Mal stayed silent, trying not to think of her father being there for the souls of dead children when he hadn't been there for her, instead focusing on the little old lady she could see standing by the bank they were approaching.
The soul of Mary Foster was a little translucent, but she looked fairly solid. It looked younger than Mal remembered the woman manning the stand.
Plastering what she hoped was a reassuring smile on her face - oh her muscles were not used to moving this way - Mal stepped towards Mary as the boat slowed to a stop. "Welcome to the Underworld. I'm Malia and I'll be helping you get settled in."
...
"So, this is where the magic happens."
Mal kept her face blank as she waited for the blue flames to disappear into the floor before she looked around. They were in a cave, somewhere in the Underworld, meeting her 'Auntie Fates'.
All her previous beliefs about life and family were firmly suspended by this point.
It should be the middle of the night, but she wasn't feeling tired in the slightest. And it wasn't the adrenaline from all these new experiences or the buzz of ferrying her first soul - which had been far less terrifying that she'd expected.
It had been...fulfilling.
Her bracelet warmed against her skin. Another few missing pieces in place.
"Hades! We knew you were coming! And that you were finally bringing our girl!" Mal turned towards the overly cheerful voice, and was met with a wall of grey robes that pulled her into a rough hug.
Her father laughed somewhere to her left.
"Let me look at you!" Another pair of hands grabbed her shoulders and spun her around. This wall of robes was shorter than her, but very round. And had a singular eye that was looking over her appraisingly. "Oh yes, you are everything we knew you'd be!" Then she cackled, "You have a stressful few years ahead, Hades my dear. Oh, when this one starts properly dating..."
Her father groaned, drawing a hand across his face, "Thank you for that image."
Mal blushed, thinking instantly of the stolen moments with Ben in various storage closets across campus. Those were things she did not want her father knowing about, thank you very much.
"Give him hell, sweetheart, makes it all the more fun." A third voice, pointed and harsh piped in, elbowing Mal in the ribs lightly. "Especially when his face does that twitchy thing."
Mal laughed, because sure enough, Hades did have that twitch going on. The one that said he was considering committing mass murder, but only of males who so much looked at her. She'd first seen it when she started messing around with Harry Hook and Hades spotted them across the market.
It was fun to watch his head literally explode.
"Anyway," Hades drawled, attempting to change the subject. He stepped further into their lair, and two of the women looped their arms through hers and guided her in. It was a moment too late when Mal realised that neither of them was the one with the eye.
Could they even see without it?
"This is where all things start and end." Hades gestured grandly at the inner cavern, and Mal spotted a giant tapestry on the far wall. It was a little more than halfway finished, she thought, and it looked like it would become a tree. The picture was made up of deep blues and greens and browns, with the odd golden thread running straight through from the bottom up.
There was a table with a hole in the middle in the centre of the room. And a spindle. And piles of notes everywhere. This was a working office, not their home. Or maybe it was both?
"These are your Auntie Fates, part of the came-of generation." Hades continued, gesturing to each of the robes figures in turn, "Lachesis, Clotho and Atropos. Their mother was Nyx, my father's sister."
"We are the Gatekeepers of Destiny." Lachesis announced primly. She was the tallest, and scariest, of the three.
"The Controllers of Fate." Atropos grinned, the smallest of her aunts, but instinct told Mal that size was not an indicator of her power.
"The Snippers of Scissors!" Clotho chimed in, snipping a pair of shears happily.
Hades and Lachesis froze, fixing Clotho with a Look. Atropos reached over and snatched the scissors back, muttering under her breath. Clotho pouted. Mal bit her lip to suppress a laugh.
If this was her family, maybe a bigger family wasn't so bad.
"For every life, they spin the thread, measure it out, and cut it." Hades explained, stepping back as she wandered around the room, attempting to take it all in. "It's still very manual, even though we've modernised most of the process."
"There is nothing more satisfying than seeing a project-" A sharp snip cut through the air as Atropos spoke, "through!"
"Did she just...?" Mal looked between her father and aunt, her eyes wide and her hand half raised.
"End someone? Yep."
"It's all part of the tapestry of life!" Clotho shrugged, grabbing Mal's arm and pulling her in front of the giant tapestry. It was beautiful. Really. And from this close, Mal could make out the individual threads. As she focused on them, a life flashed behind her eyes.
A drunk teenager falling to his death from a balcony.
A baby taken too soon.
An old woman dying peacefully in her sleep after a long and full life.
Dogs, running over the fields of the Underworld, free from the ailments of old age.
"When we finish it, the next age will begin. And then you will be Queen. But that's many millennia from now, dear."
"I'll be...?" Mal's words caught in her throat.
She had a sudden vision of herself. Older. But not old. Confident. Calm. A fitted black dress and a striking crown - made from dark spikes and thorns and roses - sitting on her father's throne.
Her mother's daughter at last.
"Queen. Of course. It's in your blood."
Mal was pulled from her thoughts when a new voice entered the conversation. Turning, she was surprised to see a glowing goddess had appeared from nowhere.
"Gaia." Hades remarked dryly, folding his arms as the temperature in the room dropped. He was glaring at the newcomer, but Mal got the distinct feeling that he wanted to grab her and run.
"What? You didn't think I'd miss this?" Gaia's laugh was light and airy, like a gentle tinkling of bells. It made the hairs on the back of Mal's neck stand on end.
Gaia was nothing like Mal had expected. She knew the stories, of course, and she knew Gaia was a master manipulator. Moving the chess pieces around the board to suit her whims. But Mal had expected...someone like her mother.
Dark and deceitful. Maybe some horns and glowing eyes. Green skin made from moss.
Instead, Gaia was tanned, with olive skin and dark hair tumbling down her back in soft waves. Between the wreath of olive leaves and the cream robes, Gaia oozed ancient power.
And Mal did not like her.
"Oh look at you. You're so grown up!" Gaia did the same as the Fates had minutes before - took her shoulders, looked her up and down, studied her carefully - but there was none of the chaotic warmth. It felt like an exam, and Mal was sure she was already failing."Why, I haven't seen you since you were eight months old!
"Funny that." Hades' tone was pointed. Accusing. The Fates exchanged a knowing look that was less about omniscience and more family secrets.
Mal kept her face deliberately blank, falling back into the survival techniques her mother had drilled into her from birth easily. She was a vault. She'd give nothing away unless she wanted her adversary to think they'd won.
Maleficent's School of Evil: 101.
"Oh, nonsense." Gaia shushed them, deflecting the barb as easily as she might swat a fly. "Now, be a dear, let your grandmama see you!"
Mal smiled tightly, keeping her eyes focused over Gaia's right shoulder. Close enough that she looked like she was paying attention, but far enough away to avoid eye contact and any unwanted visitors into her head.
After a lifetime of watching the emotions of those around her, Mal knew there was more than bad blood here. She'd seen Hades beyond furious with Maleficent. And this was worse than that.
And Gaia...Gaia knew and she did not give a damn. She could give Maleficent pointers on callousness.
"Ah yes, you are a pretty little thing." A pause. A pointed hmm. "But all these ideas in your head…we need to deal with those." Gaia twirled a lock of Mal's hair around a finger, then flicked it away dismissively. Her tone was still light, but the message was becoming more pointed with each word, "They're so...mortal." A deep sigh. "But I suppose that's what happens when you leave your child to be raised away from Olympus."
"Gaia." Her father warned dangerously, his arms still firmly folded across his chest. Mal kept focusing on the wall, walking through all the ways to kill someone without leaving a trace.
Drain the blood. Skin them. Burn the skin. Mince the leftovers and feed them to pigs.
"I mean...marrying princes?" A humourless laugh. Gaia flipped her hair over her shoulder. Mal's stomach dropped as an image of Ben flashed through her mind.
Crush the teeth. Dispose of the evidence.
"They marry future queens, not Lost Girls."
"That's it. Out." The venom in Hades' voice made even Mal want to cringe, but she was too far into survival mode to allow an outward reaction.
Gaia went rigid, unable to ignore a direct command from one of the ruling brothers. Throwing a look of disdain in Hades' direction, Gaia disappeared with a huff, leaving a small patch of moss and flowers in her wake.
There was silence for a long moment, and Mal still kept focusing on her spot on the wall.
Evie creates potassium tablets, dissolve them under the tongue.
"This is why no one likes Auntie G at parties." Lachesis grumbled finally, tossing a bucket of some green liquid onto the flowers that made them shrivel up and die.
"You can marry whoever the hell you want." Hades fumed, storming into her line of vision, making Mal meet his gaze. Somewhere, Mal knew the words cost him, and he looked physically pained as he added, "Just don't do it at eighteen because then your mother will start cursing people, and I will be top of that list."
Mal nodded, like a good little soldier, ignoring the meaning of the words and continuing her list.
A cold shock can stop the heart when delivered correctly. The lethal dose of caffeine is 200mg per 1 kilo of body weight.
…
Hours later, after her father had carted her down to the kitchen for some homemade cookies and distraction, Mal finally headed to bed around 4am. It was more from habit and a desire to get away from her father's concerned gaze than any real tiredness.
Despite Hades' attempts at reassurance, Gaia's words still echoed in Mal's head.
Why, I haven't seen you since you were eight months old.
They marry future queens, not Lost Girls.
So...mortal.
She'd finally started feeling like she wasn't a complete failure at the whole god thing, and in comes the literal Mother Nature to point out every insecurity she had.
Maleficent had wanted Mal to rule the world by her side. But Mal had never envisioned being a queen. She was a soldier. A do-er.
She was Mal from the Isle.
That was always going to be a part of her, no matter how hard she tried to be something else.
Sighing deeply, she rolled onto her side and grabbed her cell from the nightstand before she could talk herself out of it. Back in Auradon, whenever she couldn't sleep, she usually ended up messaging Ben. He didn't always reply, but sometimes he kept just as crazy hours as she did.
She needed something familiar. Even if he was never going to be hers.
Mal: Hey
Mal: I know it's the middle of the night, but thought I'd check in
Mal: So… morning?
Mal was surprised when the messages switched to read almost immediately, and three little dots began jumping on Ben's side of the screen. She tried to ignore the way her heart jumped.
Ben: I'm awake.
Ben: There was a lightning storm and it started some fires down by the docks. I've been up since 2am watching my dad deal with it.
Ben: The things I didn't know about being king.
Mal smiled sadly. It looked like she wasn't the only one learning on the job. But Ben didn't sound like he was unhappy about it.
Mal: I know that feeling
On a whim, Mal decided to focus on the docks, just to see what she could see.
Almost immediately, she saw empty warehouses engulfed in flames. One of the buildings was just a wall of fire. She was a dozen fire crews battling the flames. And then, down by incident command, she saw Ben and King Adam, looking grim.
Mal knew there was no one in those buildings. She knew everyone went home safe. And she knew it would take another thirty six hours before the fire was officially out.
Before Ben could reply to her vague comment, she added a quick update. She didn't know if she was allowed to or not. But she was doing it anyway.
Mal: Those warehouses are empty by the way. Everyone's safe.
Ben's bubbles typed away for a long time before the message finally appeared.
Ben: And you know that...how?
Mal smiled, genuinely this time.
Mal: Demigod of death
Ben: Of course. How could I forget?
Ben: Why are you awake?
Mal paused, weighing up her options. Unloading on him in the middle of a crisis felt unfair. And she wasn't really sure she would even know how to put her feelings into words, if she was inclinded to talk about things.
She'd wanted to feel better. She'd wanted him. And now she'd spoken to him, she felt better.
So mission accomplished, right?
She tapped the screen idly a few times before finally settling on a response.
Mal: Time moves differently here
Ben: I don't think my world clock covers the Underworld
Mal: I'm sure you'll pick it up soon enough
Mal: Go, before someone thinks you're distracted
Mal: Be all princely and things
Ben: Yes, ma'am
Mal: Did you just ma'am me?
Ben: You outrank me now. Get used to it.
Mal paused, a wicked grin spreading across her face as she spotted an opportunity to cause some chaos
Mal: I could get used to you on your knees