Yes, well, slightly museless, also slightly rushed because I wrote a random one-shot, said, "I'll post this when I get home!" then realized, "Oh, wait, I have a two-shot to finish first. Fluff" and had to finish this within 24 hours so I can post the one-shot tomorrow XD All requests, as a result, will be delayed for a few days. Sorry. But this one's here, so hopefully all's well. Right? ...What are you doing with those pitchforks? {Dragon, I think running would be advisable.} Yes, that may be the wisest course of action.

Word count: 1,619

"So, Mal," Belle said, breaking the silence. Mal's green eyes settled on her. "What do you do in your spare time?"

"Mal swallowed a bite of her cookie. "Well... I draw a lot. I paint, too, if I can get the supplies." Better not mention all the graffiti art I left o the Isle. ...Or on my locker.

"Ben tells us you practice magic," Beast said. Belle's chiding glance went unseen by Mal.

Oh, Ben, why did you have to mention that? "I do," she conceded carefully. "Although sometimes it doesn't work exactly like I want it to. I'm still learning." She paused. "What about you? What do you do for fun?"

"I love reading," Belle said. "I read as much as I can, really. Beast's first real gift to me was a library," she laughed. Her laugh was so honest that Mal couldn't help but smile in return. "I'd love to learn to paint, but I've never been able to."

Beast hesitated, as if unsure what to say. "I enjoy fencing," he said finally. "Though I practice different kinds of combat, too."

Mal perked up at this. This was something she understood, at least. "What kinds of weapons do you use?"

"Swords, mostly, but also bows, knives, and hand-to-hand combat," he replied. "Do you fence?"

"I don't know about fencing, but I can fight. Though Jay's better with a blade than me," she admitted. An idea occurred to her; she stared at the remains of the pastry in her hand for a second before coming to a decision. Ben's words rang in her head: Just be yourself. She put her free hand flat out on the table. "How about a match? Just you and me?"

He blinked, taken by surprise. "You want to... fight me?"

"Oh, no, not fighting," she assured him. "Do you people really never duel?"

Belle and Beast exchanged an uncertain glance. "Duels are taken very seriously here, Mal," Belle said. "They're a matter of honor, usually."

Mal snorted. "It's how we settle a lot of things on the Isle. Fights, arguments, friendly competition, introductions gone more or less wrong. It's one of the reasons you don't walk around without a weapon of some kind on you. So." She arched an eyebrow at him. "You up for it?"

After several seconds, he extended a hand, which she shook firmly. His grip was strong, but she suspected hers was stronger than he'd expected too. "All right, then. Weapons?"

She shook her head, her smile suddenly reminding him of her mother. "Oh, no. Not so fast. We do this like we do on the Isle."

Ten minutes later, the two of them stood at opposite ends of the practice room, each armed with a light sword. Mal circled, done talking. She darted in without warning and he parried; she had to admit he was fast. But it took him by surprise when she slashed at him and left a shallow slice on his bicep, the tip of her blade coming away bloody.

"No holds barred," she warned with a wicked, exhilarated grin.

He narrowed his eyes dangerously. "Have it your way." And the real fun began.

Slowly, she forced him to step outside his comfort zone, the formality of the duels he was used to draining away to primal, full speed fighting. Mal was no master swordswoman, but she held her own against her bigger, stronger opponent. And, as she hoped, she felt the walls between them dropping as they danced and wove, dodge, attack, parry, strike, recoil. Yes, this was how to get to know someone, with sweat and steel and a bit of blood, not with words and all that civilized muck. How someone fought, how they moved and struck in battle, could tell you loads about them.

In the end, she simply wasn't a match for him. The duel ended, as she had, honestly, expected, with a sharp blade at her throat. She stepped away gracefully and bowed. "Thank you."

"No," he said thoughtfully, touching his sore shoulder, "thank you." For the first time, he gave her an honest smile, and she knew that while he may have won the duel, she had won a far more important battle.

Of course, Belle would not be so easy to win over. One could hardly expect her to pick up a sword, and even if she did, Mal sensed that that would not be the way to her heart. But she had said something that Mal remembered, something she thought might be of use in gaining Ben's mother's approval.

So she wants to learn to paint.

"You didn't eat much at dinner," Belle commented.

Mal shrugged. "Guess I wasn't hungry," she lied, stomach growling. "It definitely wasn't your cooking, if that's what you're worried about." That much was true, at least.

"I must admit, you've been a bit more... well, a bit more than we were expecting, if you know what I mean," Belle confessed as Mal moved about the room, watching from her chair.

Mal smiled at her over her shoulder. "Fair enough. You learn a lot of things growing up on the Isle that you just don't in Auradon, I guess." She found what she was looking for but had to stretch to reach it.

Belle hesitated, then said softly, "If you don't mind my asking... what is it like there? The Isle of the Lost, I mean."

Mal sighed. "No magic, no wi-fi, and no way out. Best entertainment we ever got was the fights that broke out between villains. Other than that? Just peachy."

"Mal," Belle said, and the tone of her voice made the girl turn to find the retired queen looking at her with a strange, almost pleading expression. "Please... the truth. I want to know."

Mal stopped moving for a moment. After a few seconds of silence, she dropped Belle's gaze and said softly, "Very dark, very run-down, and very vicious. Most people don't have enough food. Most of the villains neglect, use, or abuse their kids. Almost everyone is involved in some sort of gang activity. No one is ever happy. No one is ever loved. Most of the kids have never tasted sugar or sweetness in their lives." She looked up, old resentment coming to the surface again. "Because we lived on your scraps. We call it the Island of the Leftovers, because that's all we ever got. We survived off of whatever the people here in Auradon didn't want or need. So yes, I leave half my meals now. Yes, I throw away food and clothes and other things long before I need to. Because I remember what it's like to have to scrounge through other peoples' garbage to find whatever real food I could, to never have enough for a decent meal. I remember what it's like to watch fights start over table scraps - to start fights over table scraps. Auradon's forgotten what it's like to have it hard." She shook her head, turning away. "And maybe the villains deserve it. I don't know. But there aren't just villains there now." Mal paused, reaching up to pull something down, and added quietly, "That's why we hated you so much. That's really the reason we wanted to free the villains and destroy Auradon. Sure, yeah, it was to make our parents proud, but really? We wanted revenge for the way we grew up. It made us tough, but it wasn't worth it."

Belle was silent for a long time, and Mal gave half a scornful laugh. "I'm sorry, was that too much? You were the one who said you wanted to know," she reminded her as she turned around.

She was surprised to find Belle's shoulders slack, tears sparkling in her eyes. "I did..." she whispered. "but I didn't realize it was that bad."

Mal stood there for a second, uncertain what to do, and belatedly realized that this might not have been a good day to go off on this rant. She sighed and took the easel under her arm over to Belle, setting it up in front of her. "Look, forget it. What's done is done, right? You can't do anything about it now, and neither can I. Let's just focus on the painting, all right?"

Belle nodded, but Mal could tell she was still thinking about what Mal had said. Still, slowly, she began to focus on what Mal was teaching her instead.

At the end of an hour, the sun was setting and the tension between the two had eased somewhat. Before she left, Belle took Mal's hands in hers and promised that she would look into affairs on and to do with the Isle, see what she could do about things. In return, Mal promised to keep teaching her how to paint.

Ben smiled and leaned over to kiss her cheek as she slid into the car. "Well, you're still here, I can see both of my parents waving from the window, and neither of them appears to have been turned into a rodent, so I assume things went relatively well."

"Ben!" she protested. "I wouldn't turn them into rodents! Probably," she added weakly as he gave her a sideways smile. "And yes... 'relatively well' is a good term." She settled back into her seat as he pulled away, heading back toward Auradon Prep. "It's a start."

Ta-da. Are my endings weak, or is that just me being overly critical?

Reviews, please! Thanks for reading, and I'll see y'all next time!