Disclaimer: I do not own Descendants, its characters, settings, or events; all rights belong to their respective creators/owners.

Cover art by the wickedly awesome Phoebe594, who is sooo patient with my pickiness.

My Descendants world is mainly based off of movie canon, but pulls a little from the books (where they do not contradict the movie, because Disney is bad at continuity), my own extrapolations/headcanons of events (because Disney seriously sugar-coats or ignores all the deeper issues), and various other Disney movies (because this world is only barely sketched out and there's a lot of room to play and I can do what I want).

This story is set somewhere between the arrival of the VKs in Auradon and Ben's coronation. I have no idea what the time frame is supposed be between those two, but judging by the clues of Evie's schoolwork and the boys's sports stuff, I'm guessing it's at least a couple of weeks.

Chronologically second in the "Sins of the Father" series, after "Chocolate."

Finally, I am aware the Isle kids begin acting out of character part of the way through; there is a reason for that and it will make sense in just a bit.

This is a revelation he should have come to a lot sooner, he berates himself. Looking back now, the signs that had been there all along are lit up in glowing neon lights and screaming for his attention.

The whole school knows how the villain kids eat at every meal. It's been . . . not entertainment, but more like something that no one likes to watch, but can't bear to look away from. It's been a topic of conversation almost from the moment they spilled out of the back of the limo with sticky hands and chocolate around Carlos's mouth and it spread like wildfire once the whole school had seen them in the act of eating their first night at dinner.

They have no manners, the rumor mill says, and it's true enough for three of them and very nearly true for Evie as well. But it's broader than that as well.

They eat very quickly, snatching at food the second it's within reach and cramming their mouths impossibly full with every bite. There's nothing casual about their actions, they don't take the time to talk between bites or enjoy the taste of their food, just cram their mouths full again the instant they empty. They're very serious the entire time.

They have a complete disregard for silverware, of any kind, including spoons, unless absolutely necessary. Ben's not sure if it's because of the time thing or because they're not used to silverware and he's less sure that one is better than the other. He's seen them use forks for pasta and salad, but he's also seen them eat soup by picking anything solid out with their fingers and drinking the remaining liquid from the bowl. There was a very memorable incident from their first or second night that is still talked about even weeks later with several other more recent incidents: the ice cream incident. The villain kids appeared to not know what ice cream was and had apparently goaded Carlos into trying it first. He had done so by grasping it in a fist and had been surprised when it had squished out of his hand. The other three had looked equally surprised and tentative, but Carlos had licked the melted remains from his hand and pronounced it good and they had determined to eat it. They had simply watched the Auradon-born kids for a second and then picked up their spoons and dug in; there had been another moment's frustration when they were unable to get the remains that had melted in the bowl either by spoon or by drinking it, particularly Carlos, whose ice cream had melted faster, but Mal solved that fairly quickly by merely dragging her finger through the liquid and licking it off.

They eat with their elbows on the table, either side of their plate or bowl, with one arm wrapped around and their shoulders hunched. Their eyes darted every which way, constantly watching those around them, and they very nearly growled whenever someone even looked as if they might be approaching during a meal. Ben should have noticed a problem from that alone, that urge to protect their food as if it's going to be stolen. It's loosened slightly from the desperate, tight coil it had been at the very beginning, but it's still prominent any time there's food present, especially once it's in their possession. But even before they get within reach of the food and snatch it up, just the sight of food on the table or the buffet line in the cafeteria makes their shoulders tense and their eyes dart. The only time he's ever seen any of them relax around food is the picnic he and Mal had gone on, but that had been the two of them alone with more than enough food and if he were honest, Mal could probably take him, easily.

And then, of course, there's their reactions to various foods. Everything he's seen them eat has either been something they've never had before or something that's better here than it is on the Isle. Even now, he doesn't know what to make of that. They didn't know what chocolate was when they first arrived. Mal had said she'd never had a strawberry or a donut before their picnic. Evie had exclaimed over blueberries loudly enough for a passing kid to overhear, proclaiming their "actual" blue color as if blueberries were generally a different color on the Isle and marveling at their firmness. He's seen Carlos poke at dinner rolls with fascination and close his eyes when taking a bite; those dinner rolls are on the table every night at dinner and Ben's never really thought they were anything special because they're just bread, but Carlos acts like they're heaven on earth. At their first breakfast, Jay had taken a gulp of the coffee and paused, mouth and jaw working and expression twisting. The others had watched carefully until he declared that it was thin—like, practically water—with no grit at all and that it tasted different, at which point Mal had stolen his cup and it had made its way through all four of them. Evie had been delighted by it and Mal had shrugged and said it was alright, but Jay had stolen the cup back from Carlos and refilled it and the other three had filled their own, so he figured they all liked it. (They went absolutely wild over the discovery of hot chocolate, though—secretly, where they didn't think anyone else could see them—especially Carlos.)

It's only now, though, at the discovery that they've been hoarding food under their beds that he begins to truly think long and hard about the food situation on the Isle. To be honest, he's been avoiding thinking about it too closely because he's afraid of what he'll find and he doesn't want to upset whatever delicate balance is currently holding all the different parts of his world together, not until the villain kids are more settled and accepted and he can bring up the next controversial subject.

Fairy Godmother is being gently reproving, but instead of looking sorry or guilty as they stand in a row in front of her, the four kids from the Isle look absolutely venomous. Even Carlos and Evie, normally so friendly, are hard-faced with glittering eyes and tense jaws and shoulders.

"Now, children," she says, "do you want to tell me what's going on?"

"You stole our food," Mal spits back instantly. Her voice is low and there's a dangerous edge to it and to her eyes. She's practically vibrating with repressed fury and her weight is forward on her toes; the thought crosses Ben's mind that he may need to intercept her should she decide to launch herself at Fairy Godmother.

Fairy Godmother, though, seems entirely unconcerned as she shakes her head and wags an admonishing finger. "Food belongs in the kitchen or on plates," she says, "not under beds."

"You want us to steal plates?" Jay asks. He sounds genuinely confused and a quick glance at the others shows that their anger has abated somewhat in the face of confusion as well.

Fairy Godmother blinks and pauses before saying, "No, Jay, stealing is wrong." Jay frowns harder. "I want you to eat food on plates."

"How are we supposed to do that if we don't steal plates?" Jay asks then. It doesn't sound like he's trying to be difficult, but rather like he's confused and frustrated and he thinks this is some kind of trap.

"Put food on a plate in the kitchen," Fairy Godmother explains, "and if you must eat it in your room, then you return the plate and any leftovers afterwards."

The Isle kids have become even more tense during this short exchange and now narrowed eyes dart between the Fairy Godmother, Ben himself, and every door and window in the room. Carlos looks on the verge of panic and the rest of them not much calmer when Mal says flatly, "You don't want us to keep any food in our rooms."

"There's no need, dear one," Fairy Godmother says. Jay's brow twists in incredulity. Fairy Godmother changes tack, then. "And what would you do if you attracted mice?"

Jay relaxes minutely as if he's finally come across a question he can answer, and says confidently, "Eat the mice." He doesn't appear to be particularly bothered by this idea, which makes Ben suspect that it has at the very least been thoroughly considered before, if not practiced.

Ben shudders at the thought, and Fairy Godmother's hand flies to her heart with a horrified gasp. The four kids eye her reaction and Carlos leans slightly into Jay and says something in an undertone that makes Jay wince in realization.

Evie steps in to reassure Fairy Godmother. "Not if they were talking mice, of course." Ben notes that her smile is charming and apologetic, but does not seem any more affected by the idea of eating a mouse than the rest of them, despite her princess-y personality.

Warning bells sound in Ben's head even louder than they had been, that this is something more than just messy habits or selfishness or criminal leanings, that this is something serious, and now he has questions.

The same thoughts must be running through Fairy Godmother's head, because the next thing she says is a cautious question, rather than a horrified or accusing exclamation. "Why would you eat any kind of mice, children?"

"Meat," Mal says shortly. Her brow is crinkled as if Fairy Godmother should know this and she can't fathom why she doesn't.

"Can't steal our food if they are food," Jay adds with a casual shrug.

"Because they're there," Carlos mutters under his breath.

It might not have been heard at any other time, but the room has fallen into a shocked silence on Ben and Fairy Godmother's part and a wary one on the part of the Isle kids, and it is. Jay snorts silently with a slight smirk, Mal tilts her head in a practical acknowledgment, and Evie seems saddened, Ben notes absently. Himself and Fairy Godmother are beyond shock at this point in the conversation, but there's an intensity to their focus on Carlos anyway; Ben is eager for some solid information, rather than the vague intimations and swirling concerns they've had so far, and Fairy Godmother likely is as well.

When they both turn their attention solely to the youngest of the Isle kids, he shrinks into himself, dropping his head. Jay, next to him, shifts closer and forward, so that one of his shoulders is in front of one of Carlos's and the smaller boy is nearly hiding behind his bulk. Evie and Mal, further away, also shift in his direction, leaning forward onto their toes, though their shifting is more casual than Jay's.

"What was that, Carlos dear?" Fairy Godmother asks.

Despite the kindness of her tone, Carlos winces. He answers, though. "I said, because they're there." Fairy Godmother makes a few incoherent noises that sound like she's trying to formulate a response and he adds, "Why waste food if it's right there like that, that's just stupid."

Fairy Godmother makes a choked noise that finally tears Ben's attention away from Carlos for a moment.

It's back on the Isle kids in a second though, when Jay jokes, "Even if it is smaller than a rat," bumping Carlos with his elbow. Carlos shifts as if to get away from the elbow and ends up further behind Jay, which Ben can't bring himself to view as accidental. Mal snorts.

Evie pipes up curiously, "Is that true?" Her eyes are wide and innocent as she looks at Fairy Godmother. "That mice are smaller than rats?"

Fairy Godmother blinks at the shift in conversation, but can't turn down an interested child in need. "Yes, they are, sweet. You've never seen a mouse before?"

"No," Evie says shyly, ducking her head a little as she shakes it.

"Never seen a rat before, either, I bet," Mal says, then, the slightest hint of cruel mockery in her voice drawing Fairy Godmother's complete attention.

Evie shakes her head again, still shy.

"Chased a rat halfway across the Isle once," Mal reminisces. Her tone is just a bit condescending when she adds, "Seen 'em more than that."

"You've traveled more than I have," Evie defends, a little spirit coming back into her voice and making both Ben and Fairy Godmother smile, though Ben is also wondering how one person growing up on a tiny island traveled more than another person growing up on the same island. "But I bet even you haven't seen a mouse."

"Might have," Mal says stiffly, glowering at the other girl. "Saw something on the barge once that could'a been a mouse."

"Or a small rat," Evie points out.

"How would I know the difference?" Mal asks. "If it was a mouse, it's the only mouse I ever saw."

"We should find a mouse, so you can see," Evie says excitedly. "We could all see one then!"

"Where would we even find a mouse?" Mal asks.

"I don't know," Evie muses. Fairy Godmother begins to cut in at this slight break in the conversation, but Evie speaks over her. "Maybe Chad would know?"

Fairy Godmother tries again and again someone speaks over her, Mal this time. "Good idea, E. Let's go find him."

Before Fairy Godmother can get out a word, the Isle kids are bustling noisily out the door.

Fairy Godmother makes a noise of frustrated surprise and looks at Ben. Ben looks back, and his eyes catch on the bags of food on her desk behind her.

"What happened?" Fairy Godmother asks.

Without taking his eyes off the bags of food, Ben answers, "I think they just distracted us from our questions and made their escape before we could even try to stop them."

She turns to follow his line of vision.

"There is something very wrong here, Ben," she says sadly.

"I know," he says. "But I don't think they're going to answer any of your questions. I don't know if you've noticed, but they have a bit of an issue with authority figures." She nods. "I think it would be better if I handled this one."

She nods again, but adds, "Maybe not right now, though, Ben. Let's let them settle a bit. It would seem we upset them more than anticipated."

Ben nods, but is distracted by the realization that he hasn't actually seen what is inside the bags. He steps around Fairy Godmother to take a look.

It's literally scraps. Loose fries and pizza crusts and dry, cooked pasta and plain bread and rolls, mostly. The tail end of a whole ham, and a few loose slices. Some chicken legs. Several apples, some sticks of celery, and a few other fruits and vegetables. Some black olives that look they've been pulled off of pizza slices. A whole tangle of that green stuff that's always used to decorate plates at dinnertime and the buffet at lunch, but Ben isn't sure is actually meant to be eaten. The bread is mostly stale. The fruit is overripe. There's a little mold on some of it, but no effort has been made to separate those items from the rest.

It's trash, but they've kept it like a treasure and were angry when it was "stolen" from them.

There is something very wrong here.

It takes him a few days to be ready for that conversation, not just because he needs to work up his courage (he does, though, he really does), but also because he undertakes a project that will make this conversation easier on all of them.

Because the kids from the Isle have aversions to a few things, and one of those things is questions. Any questions, no matter how casual or impersonal or insignificant they may seem to the Auradon-born kids, are treated almost as a hostile act, as if wanting to know something about someone else is a prelude to an attack.

Another thing they have an aversion to is offerings of any kind—gifts, advice, a tissue, directions, anything given—especially when given without any strings attacked. They seem to be waiting for the catch, for the other shoe to drop.

Ben is not above using their aversion to one to his advantage with the other. Negotiation is the way to go, offer something in exchange for questions. He keeps telling himself that offering something they want in exchange for something he wants is the backbone of trade between reasonable people and that there is nothing wrong or underhanded about the suggestion, but the fact that his side of the offering boils down to food leaves him with a nasty feeling in the hollow of his chest.

During these few days, the Isle kids have gone out of their way to avoid both Ben and Fairy Godmother, so this will be the first time he's spoken with them since that wreck of a conversation. There have been other changes, too, during this time. They've been eating even faster during mealtimes; he hadn't realized they'd slowed down at all until they resumed the speed they'd had at the beginning. They'd become even more protective of their food, as well, coiling tighter and growling whenever someone passes too close or looks too long. Everyone in school knows something is wrong and the rumor mill is going wild.

He noticed pretty early on that Mal is the de-facto leader of the little group, so he heads for the girls's room first. There's no answer and he debates for a few minutes whether he should open the door just to be sure that they're not hiding in there refusing to answer because they somehow know it's him. He decides to keep that rather invasive idea in his back pocket and check the boys's room instead.

There are sounds of movement inside when he knocks and hushed voices in argument, so he waits patiently until Jay opens the door. He's unsurprised to find Evie and Mal present and glaring at him; Carlos is likely here as well, in the portion of the room hidden by the partially-opened door.

"Hello," Ben calls in cheerily. When none of them respond, he pushes his way inside with a smile and deposits the box he's been carrying for ages now onto the little table in the center of the room. Mal and Evie, who had been sitting on one of the beds, studying, set their books aside and sit up straighter. Carlos is standing on the other side of the room in front of the darkened television, game controllers stuffed hastily into one of the nearby chairs, and Jay is following a few paces behind Ben. They're all watching him cautiously, but he notes that they're all looking at the box with equal intensity. He lets the moment stretch for just a few seconds longer.

"I've come to negotiate," he finally says. There's a shift in the air, something indefinable, but it's less tense and uncertain. Negotiation is something the kids from the Isle know as well as he himself does.

Mal and Evie stand and move toward him and Jay comes around. The three of them end up facing him in a line, Mal in the center and slightly in front of the others. They're standing in wide, ready stances, feet planted, chins high, arms crossed, dominance and pretend casualness in every line. Their faces are expressionless masks, eyes cool; Jay is smirking a little. He's turned to face them, which puts Carlos out of sight behind him, but he guesses that the other boy is wearing a similar expression and posture. The effect is intimidating, which he knows is the goal, and he realizes this is them negotiating—a united, intimidating front, giving nothing away except the certainty that they are better than you and they are going to get what they want out of this. It's head games at their finest and he has to admire it, even as it scares him a little.

"What do you want?" Mal's voice is as expressionless as her face and eyes. She shifts her weight to one leg; he's fairly certain the fact that she now covers Evie a bit while allowing Jay easier access to Ben is no coincidence.

"Answers," Ben says. "I've got a few questions."

There's no visible response to his words, and Mal's tone is still expressionless when she asks, "And what are you offering in exchange?"

He turns and slides the box forward on the table, shooting a glance at Carlos as he does so, who is mirroring the other three as he'd expected. Fishing the key from his pocket, he unlocks and opens the box and displays its contents to the four kids. "They lock," he says as he does so, "and mice can't get in." The inside is compartmented, with dials built into each compartment reading "_ days old." Some of the compartments are insulated and some seal independently. "Food'll last longer," he explains, "especially food that should be kept cold." He demonstrates the compartments individually, listing the benefits as he goes. He finishes with, "They're short enough to fit under any bed in the school, with wheels to make them easier to get in and out."

Carlos has come close enough to inspect the box now, so Ben steps back to let him at it, waiting silently for him to finish. The other three don't move. Carlos examines each compartment, checking the seals and the durability of the walls and lids, spins every dial to ensure that it works, examines the wheel attachments and give each one a spin, examines the hinge on the back and the lock on the front, and finally looks up at Mal with a nod.

Ben speaks up then, and says, "I'm offering four of these, fully stocked with food, and Fairy Godmother's permission to keep them under your beds, if the four of you answer my questions."

Carlos's head tilts to the side. "All of your questions forever?"

"No," Ben says, "I have specific questions regarding food. Once I'm satisfied on that account, four of these are yours."

"Keys and all?" Evie asks.

Ben hadn't really expected that particular concern, but he tries not to let it show. "Yes," he answers firmly, "Four boxes, with their keys and all the food that can fit inside."

"Do we get to keep them?" Jay asks. Ben frowns. "You said we had Fairy Godmother's permission to keep them under the beds here at your school," Jay clarifies, "but what about when we go back to the Isle? Do we get to keep them?"

Why had Ben ever thought this was going to be easy? "Yes," he says. "They're yours to do with as you please."

"So what," Mal says, "if we don't want to answer one of your questions we don't get your end of the deal?"

There's a flurry of similar questions before the terms are settled (which does not involve shaking hands; Mal simply glances once at the others and nods sharply and they're done); Ben does his best to answer every one in a way that reassures the other four without seeming like he's giving them something and he thinks he might have actually succeeded by the time they are agreed. Of course, it's possible they're just being nice and letting him slide.

Finally, Ben is able to get to his own questions. He knows by now not to ask anything too personal, so he asks probing but general questions about the food conditions on the Isle. Their answers in turn are brief, but complete, and occasionally include information he hadn't even thought to ask.

He's appalled by what he learns. Most of their food is beginning to rot or mold or turn bad in some other way before it even gets to them. Fruit is soft and bread is hard. Every child on the Isle knows from a young age which types of mold must be absolutely avoided and which are okay to eat. Some food, of course, is worse than others, which leads to fights for the better foods, vicious ones (Ben can't imagine having to fight someone else for a slightly less moldy piece of stale bread).

There's also not quite enough food. From what he can tell (and his research later proves), the amount of food being shipped to the Isle hasn't changed since it was created, despite the fact that the Isle's population has at least doubled in the last twenty years. The atmosphere caused by the dome is not conducive to green, growing things, so the few plants the inhabitant manage to will into existence are thin and sickly and fail to make up for much of anything. Rats were once plentiful on the island, but have since been hunted to near extinction, at least until recent conservation efforts by a certain group have led to breeding the only two rats anyone knows for sure still exist; occasionally, rats and possibly mice or even birds come over with the barge and supplement the food supply, but this is rare and they are too small to do enough good. Fish and other sea creatures are the only fairly regular addition to the food supply, but the sea within the dome is limited, often muddied enough by frequent rainstorms to chase the fish into hiding, and infested with predators.

Any food obtained on the Isle is hard won; it is never taken for granted, like it so often is here in Auradon, nor is it enjoyed, as that is a luxury they cannot afford. He'd never thought of food as a luxury, or even a precious commodity really. He'd never realized how bad the food situation was over there, never dreamed something like that was possible in an area under the control of Auradon, villains or not.

He suddenly finds himself rethinking food—what it means to him and others, how it could be defined. He finds himself scrambling to think how to fix the food situation on the Isle. He knows he can't fix the people, knows there will still be fights more than likely, knows they will still feel the need to hoard whatever food they get, but he will do what he can about food on the Isle.

(It takes longer than he'd like to restructure the food supply to the Isle; it's not until after his coronation that he can get the new ordinances passed. He was worried at first that Maleficent's attack had unintentionally hindered his efforts, but he found it quite easy to shift the focus to the four brave kids who had stopped her and use them as his rallying cry for the changes. In the end, barges were going out more often, with better food and a few live animals, if not plants considering the weather, and a consensus of the Isle's inhabitants was taken to ensure that they knew exactly how many people were there needing food. It still wasn't perfect, but it was better.)

Thanks for reading! If anybody has more precise information on the timeline of the first movie, I'd love to hear it.

Have a wicked day!

M1ssUnd3rst4nd1ng