Chapter 12! Who would've thought? Happy reading!

Jay stared at Quinn's back, unable to leave. Not when he hadn't been that close to her in years. He wanted to do something, something to relieve the weight she carried, the responsibility she felt. Most of all, he wanted to tell her his side, wanted her to know that while she might never forgive him, he would never stop loving her. "Quinn—"

"You've lost the right to speak to me," she interrupted, "You lost it when you broke your promise and left me here, in her care." She refused to look at him. If she did and saw the feelings on his face that were so clearly audible in his voice, she would do something stupid. Forgive him. But betrayal was something she couldn't forgive. Not when he had been the one to convince her to give him a chance he just threw away. "You promised me that I was worth the effort, that you would get me out of here and that I was the only one for you." Her hands were shaking and Quinn clenched them so hard she was certain she'd drawn blood. There was a dull thud behind her but she couldn't turn, wouldn't succumb to temptation. "Yet, you stopped fighting, you didn't rescue me and you found someone else."

"That's not—"

"You could've saved me that day when you watched me sing," she whispered, "You could've opened the door and swept me away, but I guess Auradon and what the goody-two-shoes thought of you mattered more." She turned her head, just enough to see him without really seeing him. He was on his knees, arms limp at his side. At her mercy, willing to accept whatever punishment she doled out. Clenching her fists harder, she tried to replace the tingling urge to either slap him or embrace him with the sensation of blood slicking her palms. "I saw you, in my mirror," she revealed, "I saw you and I hoped for the first time in my life." Quinn realized that she couldn't be in the same room as him anymore. Not without either forgiving him or alienating him. She stormed out of the room through a hidden door, breathing hard as it slammed shut behind her and engulfed her in darkness.

It took several, long minutes before Jay stood up. He was at war with himself, three distinct options taunting him. He could go after Quinn, try to explain himself and maybe earn at least a chance at forgiveness. Or he could take advantage of her absence and try to free Ben, which would make the first option significantly more difficult. Or he could leave the House of Cards, find his friends and make a plan to break out Ben together. Which would make both previous options difficult. No matter how he twisted it, there were hurdles caused by Ben's incarceration that would push her further away. He didn't want it to look like he was trying to get back in her good graces for any other reason than his feelings for her.

Mal accosted Jay the moment he caught up to them. "There you are," she exclaimed, dragging him with her, "Now that you're here we can finally—"

"No."

The purple-haired girl frowned at him. "What," she asked, unable to believe what she was hearing, "Ben's your friend, I thought you would help rescue him." To her immense shock, Evie and Harry shook their heads too.

"I know you want to save Ben," Evie said weakly, "But the three of us want Quinn to forgive us." She leaned against Harry, Quinn's face as she silenced them still burned into her mind. "We can't help you and ask her to forgive us at the same time," she continued, "It will look like we're trying to soften her up to take advantage and… that's not right."

"It's not right that she's holding Ben captive either."

"It's what she does, Mali."

Mal turned around to face her father as he approached them. "What are you talking about?"

Hades sighed heavily and gestured for the group to follow him. He led them to his lair, slumping into his chair and gesturing for Mal to take a seat on the armrest. "You are all here," he pointed out, rubbing his temples, "Which means she took great care not to involve you." It was safe to say he imagined the conflict between his daughters to be a little less… world encompassing. No matter how little he wanted to show favoritism, there was no denying that Quinn was more cunning and careful than Mal. Time in Auradon had softened Mal, made her believe that everything could be fixed with the twirl of a wand. Quinn, hardened by years with her mother and the betrayal of her friends, knew that she'd need to take things into her own hands. "She could've used you against him, Mali," he reminded her as gently as he could, "Any of you."

"So what, I'm supposed to be grateful that my fiancé is locked up and I'm not?" Old Mal would've been. New Mal was enraged by the mere suggestion. "That is a very Isle way of thinking, you know."

"She chose to show mercy by bargaining his freedom rather than yours," Hades remarked, frustrated, "You have to trust me on this, Mali, your sister knows what she's doing." He had taught her to, after all, and while his attention might've made Mal softer, Quinn's had done the same to him. The red-haired spitfire had made him care for both his daughters. Hells, when she'd found out about Mal she'd yelled at him for hours about not seeking the half-pixie out. "Don't make a deal you can't keep," he muttered, "If she promised to release him she will, she is disgustingly honest like that." That was one major difference between Hades and Quinn. Hades put in loopholes that worked in his advantage. Quinn was candid and earned the Isle's trust.

Evie nodded. "We have to trust that Quinn wants what best for the Isle more than she wants revenge on us," she said quietly, "She's changed but not so much that she'll give up a fundamental goal of hers."

No matter how much Evie and Hades tried to convince her, Mal couldn't believe them. She wasn't blind, she had seen the anger in the cool facade Quinn put up. Maybe she recognized it simply because she herself once had been the same. It was that recognition and doubt that had Mal sneaking into the House of Cards that night. The halls were dimly lit by sconces on the walls and moonlight through the windows. It had been difficult to sneak past the Card Soldiers, particularly since something stopped her magic from working. But she made it inside. She was fairly certain she was lost, but she was inside. Just as she was about to give up, she heard voices. Following the sound, she wound up peeking through the crack in a doorway.

"…never thought about it that way."

Sighing heavily, Quinn inclined her head in acknowledgment. "I always believed you'd be a better king than your father," she admitted, leaning back in her chair as she observed Ben, "But I also knew that you, like him, would forget that even though we were prisoners, we're people, with families and lives beyond our schemes and adversaries." As much as it pained her to admit it, Quinn could see why her sister liked him so much. He listened and didn't seem to be afraid of her. If anything, he understood her motivations.

"I guess I did forget," Ben agreed, frowning deeply, "I learned from Mal and the others what the Isle was like and I didn't do anything about it." He looked down at the ripped piece of fabric he'd been given to write his proposal on before looking back up at Quinn. "I hope that I can make it right," he said quietly, "Villains or not, no one deserves to live like the people on the Isle." Considering his options, he wrote down his first decree. "From here on out, Auradon will provide materials to build proper housing for the people of the Isle." He hesitated for a moment, before signing his name at the bottom of the fabric, as a way to assure Quinn that he would be keeping his word. "Can I ask you something?" Blue eyes watched him curiously. "What do you think the people would think about starting a housing project in Auradon?"

Quinn bit the inside of her cheek thoughtfully. "The Isle is home," she said finally, "Maybe after a few years, or even when your kids are our age." She gestured for him to stand and led him over to the window, gesturing down to the bustling streets filled with islanders and Auradonians alike. "This, this is how we learned to live," she explained, pointing to a vendor who accepted a bracelet from Audrey in exchange for an intricate, silver mirror, "Trading, creating, surviving." Stealing, lying, cheating.

"What about food?"

"I'll ask Seven of Diamonds to bring something up."

"No," Ben declined with a chuckle, "What about food on the Isle, what is it like?"

From her spot in the doorway, Mal saw her sister deflate. She understood why. Quinn's shop and Ursula's restaurant were the only places to get even remotely fresh products. The pirates fished for the Chip Shoppe and Quinn made all her potions using homegrown ingredients. Frollo's Creperie and the Slop Shop… Mal shuddered. Apparently, Ben realized what Quinn's silence meant and scribbled something down.

Reading over Ben's shoulder, Quinn smiled. He caught on quick. "What about medicine?" It wasn't very likely that the people of the Isle would trust anyone other than their resident healer for a long time. Some of them had been born with her help. It was her field and depending on how Ben saw fit to dole out medicine, she would be out of a job.

"Actually, I was hoping that you'd be open to discussion," Ben said, setting the quill down, "You have cures to diseases we've never heard of, we have access to ingredients that could create even more." He recognized that, as political as their discussions had been, the talk of medicine was where the real negotiations began. His father and all the others who had been affected by morphilogus needed her cure. One he doubted she'd be willing to simply share with him. "In exchange for the morphilogus cure, made and administrated by your hand," he began, "Auradon offers any ingredients you want." While he didn't want to make the whole deal without Mal, he knew that Quinn wasn't likely to budge without another incentive. "And, if you're agreeable, there will be a position as head healer with your name on it." Her eyes snapped to his, shock clearly visible on her face. Ben held his hand out for her to shake. "You have kept the people on the Isle alive without any of the medical aids we have in Auradon," he explained, "They trust you and I do too."

Clamping a hand over her own mouth to contain her gasp, Mal backed away from the door when she saw Quinn shake Ben's outstretched hand, sealing the deal. It was so perfectly Auradon of him that she was equally proud and exasperated. He had agreed to fix everything, which was great. But he had also agreed to let Quinn, her sister, be the one to do check-ups and deliver the royal heir when the time came. Without consulting her, his fiancée, who didn't even know her sister beyond what little she had seen and heard. While Mal wanted to stay and find out more, she knew that she would get caught if she did. She left the House of Cards, still trying to wrap her head around what she'd witnessed.

"You kept up your end of the deal," Quinn said, still a little stunned, "And I'll keep mine." She walked over to open the door fully, smiling wryly at Ben. "You're free to go, Your Majesty." He started to head for the opening, only to close the door as he did so. Quinn eyed him skeptically. "I'm sure your entourage is worried," she commented, only half-joking, "You should go to them, I'll need some time to brew the cure."

Ben sat back down in the desk chair, gesturing for her to sit in the chair opposite him. "You are, as of that handshake, one of my people," he pointed out, smiling softly, "I heard that things are… difficult between you and my friends and as king it's my job to resolve your issues." Quinn scoffed and stood up, moving to leave the room. Before she could get far, Ben caught her wrist and turned her around. "Tell me," he urged kindly, "I promise to be impartial."

"Evie and I were best friends," Quinn reluctantly divulged, cursing how disarmingly earnest he was being, "We grew up together." Sighing, she leaned against the desk, burying her face in her hands. Memories floated to the surface, ones long suppressed in an attempt to move on. "When they left… of the two of them, I always thought she'd fight hardest to get back to me." Tears welled, unbidden and highly unappreciated. "Jay… I never knew what love was," she whispered, "But I know that whatever I felt for him, I wouldn't feel for anyone else, ever." Kisses, soft and tender, whispers of a lullaby sung in peaceful moments echoed in her head. She missed him. It wasn't an epiphany, she'd been fully aware of the fact that she missed him. That didn't mean she wanted to miss him. She didn't want to wake up and realize that she'd been dreaming about him. "Harry moved on," Quinn continued, "I can't fault him for that, but I wish he'd said goodbye."

Clearing his throat, Ben placed a hand on her arm in comfort. "When Mal left for the Isle I was heartbroken," he told her quietly, "I knew it was my fault in a lot of ways but I still felt hurt that she didn't try to talk to me." He still remembered the sinking feeling in his gut when Evie told him that Mal had gone to the Isle. "I knew she hadn't done it to hurt me, though." Quinn rolled her eyes and gave him an exasperated look, to which he held his hands up in defense. He gently guided her back into her seat. "I'm not asking you to forgive them, you don't have to," he assured, smiling hesitantly at her, "But before you decide to resent them forever, you should know that they do care about you."