Everyone had been on edge over Maleficent's escape, final exams a far off afterthought. Especially for one Persephone Beast. All week the young princess shouldered the guilt of all the havoc and destruction her carelessness wrought.
Hundreds of villains were at large, petty crimes skyrocketed, no one and nowhere seemed safe.
Terrified Isle residents still clogged every exit into Auradon. Through all this her parents had received the blame, her mother specifically, were condemned for uniting the two lands in the first place.
Fearful of the same treatment Persephone couldn't bring herself to admit that this was her fault to the world at large. Still she decided to take action.
In whatever meager, useless way she could.
If nothing else, she'd learned plenty on catching and ergo being a dirty sneak.
So that every night as the moon slowly turned completely full, she searched in the quadrants the guards hadn't yet covered for signs of her grandmother or her own pseudo villainous friends. Only to come up short, multiplying her guilt exponentially.
It didn't help that her friends were so kind especially Scarlette and Beau. Everyone comforted her saying that her wonderful parents would fix this and that the Ball was just the distraction they needed.
She nearly cried at the mention of her party. Persephone was reminded of her grandma. Many times she had mentioned the grandiose event in passing. Could the Mistress of Evil choose then to reveal herself before all of the land's nobility?
The day came, sky a resplendent cerulean that then deepened to a blue even richer than Aunt Evie's fluttering, flowy dress. Wanting to play her part of a welcome distraction- the only sort of part even she couldn't muck up- Persephone diligently placed all focus upon making the perfect cheery facade and ladylike etiquette rules she always balked at following even in the bent, cunningly impertinent way that was barely acceptable to the adults.
Today, a maturing fledgeling Queen, she followed them rigorously and to the letter. And she damned well enjoyed doing it.
Tux, taxi, pheromone enhancer. All boxes clicked off from his cell. Eric double checked the set up of his bed.
A dedicated theater girl had been paid in social media selfies and hashtag clout to make a human plaster, namely his head, to place under his covers, complete with weight, depth, and texture.
For his part Eric had coated rolled up and compacted socks forming a chest with a mild mixture of herbs and smelling salts, creating a vague forgetfulness solution with a tiny disc where a heart should be to provide a pulse and warmth of a human body.
And though it was humiliatingly excessive, certainly a torture in it of itself to cobble together from complete disaster by chewing gum and glue and a lot of praying-(that he would take to his dying day)- that nothing and absolutely no one existing heard, Eric could still proudly boast that it worked.
In a few hours he could dare say even he'd believe a changeling had stolen into his room and rested on his bed.
Now he did love his parents, and he sympathized with what was obviously a knee-jerk overreaction what with the Baby killer out of prison, but he was thirteen years old and at the moment his needs consisted of getting a dance long overdue with plum princess Persephone Beast. And no Didi to throw coals and throw Eric to stupid, stupid self-doubt spirals.
Careful not to rip the fabric he monkey climbed from a slick rafter and with some timing and fake-out managed to successfully throw his petrified body over the herbs her mother so lovingly tended across their front wall.
The complete dominion of Maleficent and decimation of his parents alone would stymy his resolve to see his life-long personal project to the end. And even then, he'd consider... well they were adults and all, having saved the world. Again. And again.
Nobody thought, nobody wished, that Cinderella's stepfamily could receive the blessing of their fairytale ending or their big moment at the Ball.
And yet here was Beau, living proof of the opposite.
At 7 o' clock the small statured gentleman marveled at a castle that must have been spelled. Thousands of twinking lights strung in every which chaotic way gave the impression of tiny fairies in a secretive Wood. Grand and heavy entry doors polished to perfection in their alabaster finery, flanked at each side with arrangements of moon flowers giving a tasteful silver sheen in the night. But the heavy presence of gold and blue guards was clearly unplanned and did make for something of a clash for the otherwise fae aesthetic.
Showing his invitation the Tremaine party received a stiff, formal welcome into the hall.
Persephone still outdid herself. The hall was lavishly decorated but behind typical sophistication was her unique cool. The little things and some more obvious.
Eerie, almost rising lengths of craggly black orchid vines and spider lilies hung from the ceiling.
While banners of her Mom's old dragon heart insignia in-lined the second floor walkway and a soundtrack of upbeat, beat heavy songs.
Then he saw her. Tough Scarlette, face now awash in the light, shimmering a beautiful bronze and made all the more lovely by traces of nude makeup. He would know, working with the ladies and their palettes. Especially during events like this. She wore such a gentle color, pink rose pink that brought to mind fluttering silk and the smooth touch across such a fine fabric. And had accessorized with a slightly mature fur stole of a black and white animal- fake he was certain.
Her hair bouncing and free in its mess of curls, bobbing as she danced. All in all the moment of warmth and passion a painter would emulate from just an empty, generic royal hall.
Having absently set an unneeded, unnoticed drink down he simply stood there completely bewitched until he got a brisk flick to the back of the head. Beau jumped a mile before realizing it was Eric wearing a cocky smirk.
His slightly upperclassman wore a less traditional, tongue-in-cheek version of his own pattern and color.
Eric had rolled the sleeves up to the elbow that was admittedly the least bit obnoxious and traded a muted tie for a red plaid one.
"What do you call that?" Beau ended up asking. And if there was a note of distaste there, he found he didn't completely care. Come on man, they were both trying to do the same thing here.
"I call it cool," he replied casually, shouldering him just a bit and making clear just how he could smother Beau. "Seriously Mr. Stuffy you have no personality right now. Yawn. Big yawn, Persephone would be so sad you feel uncomfortable."
"It's still a ball," he argued, no real heat in his voice even if his point was correct. "Don't mind me and I won't mind your afront to my sensibilities."
Making Eric break out into horribly raucous laughter.
To which Beau hoped to seperate himself even just a bit so they weren't lumped together.
"Sensi- sensibilities he says."
"I meant my Mom doofus. She picked it and don't you dare," he whispered fiercely, "I happen to like making my Mom smile instead of tear her hair out. How did you-"
"Not important, plausible deniability yeah?"
Beau just shrugged.
"You brought it though yeah?" he asked, keeping his voice low and a silent current to keep casual.
"Right here," Eric flourished his hand to Beau's consternation and utter panic, to the displayed vial of clear liquid. Oh and it even caught the light just right to see all the little fizz bubbles.
Though what made him just snatch the object was the rush of euphoria and building anxiety to simply have Scarlette in his arms.
His fantasies were just a cork stopper away from coming true! Sans the fear sweat. But before he could down the potion and so hide the evidence- like a proper semi-illegal tester- Eric grabbed his arm.
Wrenching it near to the ground so the valuable elixir nearly shattered right there on the spruce wood tile.
"You don't ingest it!" he said in an exasperated manner, a voice he was well used to during semester exams. "Pour and dab, like cologne, seeps into the skin then exudes the scent. Kind of what a pheromone does in the first place. Least, the ones we- no I- brilliantly and costly replicated I'd like to add."
Beau waved that off.
Grateful yes and he'd paid as promised. Geez did Eric have an ego on him. Not to mention the whole rogue thing. What even was that?
Beau followed the instruction still, pouring a nice dollop onto his palm the way he had seen Anthony and even Drizzy and Anna do with their knock-off creams, slapping the concoctions to the places around his neck that stretched inward.
As promised he felt his skin was dry. And to breathe in the resulting scent mingled in the iron musk of sweat, one deep breath was all it took.
Suddenly his clattering thoughts quieted, Eric's lack of decorum or romance suddenly wasn't so ghastly and the suit a little less offensively silly.
Whatever was on his skin Beau guessed, had to work like hypnosis.
Locking away the undesirable, the fumbling, nervous, obedient spa hand and brought out what Beau desired.
What Beau felt he was or actually should be.
Suave, confident, irresistible.
And like Uncle Anthony a little arrogant about his looks.
Right now, Beau would bring sexy back!
Strutting towards Scar's radiant, razor-aware daughter he acknowledged how the nearby maidens suddenly fawned over little old him.
And Scarlette noticed. That's right doll face, take a look.
Only look at me.
"Hiya hot stuff let's dance," he offered, catching the girl in his arms.
When she woke up for a Ball tonight Scarlette had not expected to be accosted and swept under a dude's arm like a slightly waddling kitten who couldn't possibly walk quite right yet. Not by Beau Tremaine, and Persephone adamantly didn't allow the other thing. Unlike ninety-three percent of the typical boy, such a little guy, a sort of earnestly cute little guy had class. Often touching her in an odd place so softly and so abruptly somewhere at her breast.
Not tonight.
Rather, he resembled a lion. Flaunting around seeking and claiming a mate.
Grinning stupidly he dipped Scarlette as if they were doing a salsa dance. Despite how silly his tack, she would be a liar if she denied the brazen show of assertiveness wasn't just a little bit interesting. For the many things she was, she didn't dip into lying. Much less of her own wants.
"Mind if I kiss you?" he muttered in a ridiculous sultry whisper. Taking the reigns she pulled his face to hers into a smooch.
A slow dance then cast a heavy, foggy spell over both kids. Scarlette surrendered lead to Beau, despite circumstances, as she remembered he was the one actually practiced on the steps.
The dance stirred one memory, dusted off and clear if not possessing a vacant, ethereal echo to it. Almost weaving into the way they swayed and how her skin shivered to each point of contact.
This feeling- this complete plunge into an unbalancing force- was it that?
Scar's 'den' had only one tiny TV. It was used as an incentive for his three children to press into their own hollow hearts like dried flowers, a ruthlessness that would dictate caution and sometimes even harm among each other. The lesson of the wild, of the strongest predator.
The rule went like this: that whoever did the best during training that week received well-deserved reward. An hour to watch what he or she pleased.
And since they could control what they consumed they weren't brainwashed.
The six year old had been lucky enough to earn that honor. Scarlette couldn't trust her too small, too uncoordinated body- not to get her out from under Taka's thrall- not to save her. And Scarlette had loudly anticipated King Ben and Lady Mal's televised Anniversary Ball. Followed it's progress religiously in tabloids and magazines. Though not even the glossiest or most air brushed pages did the event justice.
Young Scarlette watched transfixed of regal princesses dressed in every bright color.
She saw startling yellows, vivid reds, rich crimsons of rose petals, every shade of enchanting blue. All jewels treasured and adored of their unique shapes and facets by handsome mates, in each and every unique way they weaponized the light of chandeliers, natural sun, and glitter.
By now her eyes ached drinking in the scene so close to the screen cuz maybe it could suck her into the party.
This was when a rough mouth pulled at her old, raggedy dress. Scar loomed over her looking very severe. At that time she cowered before the powerful lion, never sure if she would be eaten.
If all the kids he collected were actually a delayed lunch flavored by their frolicking and bitter betrayal when gulped down.
"Scarlette my little killer, don't waste away dreaming of impossibilities," Scar cooed. "A Queen needs no one and certainly has no place at such taudry affairs. Do remember that."
Swishing his tail at her as he sauntered out of the room, dismissed but otherwise permitting her the privacy and promised reprieve of the television.
He never really said anything insulting. Never put down Scarlette herself... exactly. Still she had felt well and truly stupid for dreaming. Clearly it was wrong if he'd said it was. After all he slaved and worked for the best possible life for them, for every forgotten cub deemed weak and malformed by a taudry, vain society.
She turned away from the set. Certain that whatever entertainment humans had come up with would only inhibit her. And so, decided that more exercises would render a much more productive prize for her efforts.
Dare she dream to have a pick of even Scar's share of fat and scrumptious meat.
How wrong she had been. Not only had she committed a grievous offense for her presumption...
Scar had never cared to begin with, not concerned with her or any of his so called children.
The egocentric naming should have been the first red flag to be fair. At least now the family- what was truly a family- knew better.
Everyone needed others in their lives. And everyone within the pack needed to trust each other, needed to know love was there unconditional and unjudged.
The pack- family, friends, and all other denotation- weathered storms together, tested each other, held each other keeping the worst at bay and away. A rival, a true rival, proved an exquisite test to train and test the skills fostered from constant survival. Though she had always known of another category that existed.
The synonymous to mate, but exclusive. Not to lions and not to adults. To her and to her friends.
Beau was whom belonged in that group.
All his own.
Had she developed a crush on Beau tonight?
Nearby another couple meandered together, holding each other, hands clasped.
When Eric twirled her, Persephone's sparkling snow blue gown imitated the ghost of real, frosty winter.
"So what did you give him?" she asked slowly and subtly. Refusing to turn from the polite downward gaze of her partner's chest but the slight squeeze signaled well enough what she meant.
"Just a pheromone boost," he answered with pride in his voice.
"I see," she replied blandly. "Used some on yourself too then? It's alright, I won't tell."
He did a good impression of being offended. For the first time all week Persephone laughed. His eyes grew distant and a mild smile adorned his face with adoration. "that's an exquisite accessory," Eric said, "you're glowing."
Nuzzled and tucked tenderly at the shell of her ear.
"Want some privacy?" she asked, a smile of her own having grown just a bit more daring. Persephone well and truly set on making their first kiss as romantic as possible. Ready to leave she spotted a sight that made her heart stop. A green specter shattered the largest window raining down glass on screaming and scrambling guests.
Maleficent materialized right in the center of the floor. Her piercing green stare resting on Auradon's princess.
Immediately shielded and pushed further toward Eric by a circling defense formation of guards. And from there her parents as well. Each one shielding her from the witch.
Mom flicked her finger creating a smoky circle that coalesced into an invisible but active electrically charged barrier around her.
"Surrender Mother," Mal said, her eyes glowing green as well.
"Well now," she scoffed. "Couldn't I have just come to see my granddaughter?"
Persephone tensed.
"Since my ungrateful daughter," without abandon she grimly walked right past the barrier, taking the punishment only for the spell to burst outward. Knocking the nobles, their friends, and half their defending line to the ground, "never even allowed me to lay eyes on her."
Maleficent looked genuinely angry. At least the little exchange had given the other guards time to surround every exit point and corral a good portion of the ballroom into the farthest corners, upturning tables into cover and trays and platters into shields for the families with smaller children.
Eric began to squeeze her hand. She could see how his jaw strained, clamped shut in a stony gaze frontwards. "Thanks," she said, briefly squeezing back.
But having no choice, released just as quickly. Something needed to be done. Needed to be done right now.
Before the men could recover and unduly sequester her.
Her Father roared, ready to body the fairy and Mom's finger blazed.
"Come on granny let's go!" I declared coming from behind their backs.
Maleficent laughed cruelly.
Dad's gaze fluttered between them both, horror written across his face as the Beast took hold.
"No. No, no, no..." a growl ripped itself from his throat. Minimized by the whimper harmonizing in his chest.
"I'll be fine!" she insisted.
"Persephone, GRRRR-" he struggled to contain himself, "Follow the guards."
"No! I have to-"
The air rushed out of her when she was enveloped in her Mother's gentle green power. "Listen to your father."
And tossed her for a strong armed guard to catch, lifting her off her feet.
Holding her tight and hiding the princess' face when her mother began to speak in a different language entirely.
Calling on a magic she'd never even dared tell Persephone about except to warn her and to tell her if Grandpappi Hades was getting overexcited.
Teams led guests all across the castle with every adult packed into the bedrooms while every peer she had invited trekked into the highest towers.
She sat next to the window overlooking the expansive kingdom away from her antsy friends. This was all her fault. All the panic, the explosions that resounded across the property. Persephone began to cry. And with that so did others. Girls and boys alike sniffled or sobbed unbashedly. So now she couldn't not look at them, commiserate with them with tear tracks and ruined makeup and red eyes. Everyone was crying. Her fault.
Over the next few hours many had tried to escape including Persephone. Any attempts were quickly stopped. Meaning that for now the best they could do was hope. By now a chill crawled across the tower. To every anxious teenager it seemed like a bad omen.
Right on cue the chaos stopped, punctuated only by the strained voices of the guards outside. "Don't come out."