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Ben strode away from the VK’s hideout, trying to focus on keeping his emotions at bay.
Mal’s rejection cut him deep, but now wasn’t the time or place for a breakdown. He needed to lock it down like all the other things he’d had to over the last few months. King’s weren’t supposed to be weak. They were supposed to be strong and collected at all times, no question.
It’s just, well, … he thought Mal was The One…
Or, not The One, he knew Mal wasn’t his Soulmate.
The Words were something you just knew one day when you hadn't known the day before, usually between the ages of 8 and 12. Ben had just woken up on a Tuesday when he was 11 and knew what his words would be. Magic was weird that way.
She hadn’t said his when they first met, and he guessed he hadn’t said hers either or she would have told him, or at least used it to her advantage during her plot for the wand.
It wasn’t a big deal. Plenty of people didn’t date or marry their Soulmate. Some didn’t even meet theirs until later in life when they were already settled down with a spouse and a family.
Soulmates were your perfect match, but that didn’t mean other people couldn’t come close to it.
Ben had been raised to understand that he probably wouldn’t get to marry his Soulmate like all the romantic books and movies said he would. As future King, his marriage would have to have Auradon’s best interest at heart and his own feelings would always be secondary to that. He thought he could have both in Mal; the girl he loved, who could help him slowly, but surely, heal the divide amongst their people and reunite the isle with the mainland.
But apparently not.
Mal had dumped him. Given back his ring.
The weight of the crown had been too much pressure so early on in their relationship. The eyes of the whole kingdom had been on them constantly with no reprieve, and Ben couldn’t blame Mal for running away. He himself thought about running away at least twice a day, he just never had the guts to actually do it until he was following after her to the Isle of the Lost.
And even that hadn’t been enough.
He thought she had known that he loved her regardless of good or bad or expectations and that, whatever happened, they were in this together.
He thought they were on the same page.
Turns out they weren’t even in the same book.
He clenched his fist tight around the gold ring that had been Mal’s for the past few months, as he continued to march back in the direction he thought they had parked the limo. He could feel the grooves and details of the accessory digging into his palm. The face of the Beast, the Curse that had hounded his dad. It was no secret that Ben had inherited some animalistic behaviours from the Curse, and Ben wondered if the misfortune regarding love was perhaps genetic as well. His mum and dad were a special case, neither of them being each other’s Soulmate, but they worked in harmony none-the-less. There was no way he could be lucky enough to find love as they had, with or without his Soulmate.
Who could love a Beast anyway?
“Ye'r far fae yer castle, urr ye nae, wee cub?”
Ben froze.
Those were his words.
Those were his Words!
The voice, the voice of his Soulmate, was distinctly male but also high and airy, with a strange mix of dark intensity and a playful, melodic tone. If the voice had said anything other than his words, Ben could imagine a jolt of cold fear run through him at the sound of it.
As it was, Ben could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end for an entirely different reason.
He finally took notice of his surroundings, squinting through the thick smoke of dark, dingy alley he found himself in, trying desperately to find the source of the voice.
A figure emerged just ahead.
He looked to be about Ben’s age, but taller than him, with stunning kohl lined eyes the colour of pale sea glass. His features were pretty and sharp, dangerous, but he was grinning madly. He wore a long red leather coat over tattered clothes and a pirate’s hat atop his head. A gleaming silver hook was held, deftly, in his left hand.
Ben took a step towards him.
“I’m so glad you found me,” he said, openly.
His soulmate’s expression shuttered, turning briefly to confusion and then to complete shock and disbelief.
“Mah wurds... Ye'r mines? … Mah Soul’?...”
They stared at each other for a long moment. Ben didn’t know how to proceed. There had been lessons on appropriate Soulmate-meeting etiquette, but that had all gone hurtling out of the window as soon as his words had filtered through to Ben’s brain. Also, they were on the Isle and who knows what traditions for Soulmates were over here. Did they even accept Soulmates?
Ben’s Soulmate suddenly broke out into a stunning smile, slightly unhinged still but with an honest joy that lacked the danger of his earlier grin. He tucked the point of his hook through one of his belt loops and let go so that it swung slightly from his hip, before reaching up, sweeping his hat off his head and holding it to his chest, bowing deeply without taking his eyes off of Ben.
“Harry Hook, wee cub, at yer service.”
Ben let out a relieved laugh, not realising he’d been holding his breath until it all whooshed out of him. When Harry straightened up back to his full height, Ben tore his beanie off and lowered into a bow of his own, a little clumsily, given how much his head was spinning at this turn of events.
He stumbled a bit standing up again, but then there was a firm hand steadying him at his hip and a hat pressed against his other side. Ben looked up into Harry’s face, so close to his.
Wow, he was so pretty. It scrambled his thoughts for a moment, as he mapped out every possible feature of his Soulmate’s face, before he managed to pull himself together enough to speak.
“I’m Ben, Ben Florian. I can’t tell you how glad I am to meet you… I lost hope that I’d ever get to … but here you are…”
Harry pushed their foreheads together. “’ere a’m…”
The pair stayed still like that for a few long moments.
Ben remembered that he was still holding his ring in the hand not gripping his hat. He looked down and nudged Harry's hand with his wrist to urge the pirate to lift it up off his hip. Harry obliged wordlessly and Ben gently slid the ring onto his index finger before tangling their hands together, squeezing softly. Harry giggled cutely.
A random loud noise from a few streets over jolted them out of the little bubble they’d disappeared off into. Harry leaned back away from Ben, keeping their hands joined by their sides. He lifted the pirate hat and put it carefully on Ben’s head instead of his own, adjusting it slightly until he was happy with the jaunty angle.
Ben mirrored him, trying and failing to get his beanie onto Harry’s head one handed, but mainly just rubbing the fabric over his hair and making it go a bit staticky in places. The pirate shook his head in amusement before reaching up with his spare hand to help.
“Oor fowk wull be wondering whaur we ur. We best be gaun aff, wee cub.”
Ben nodded but hesitated before they could walk back through the streets.
“Whatever happens though, we’re in this together, right?”
“O'coorse. Soul's ur respected oan th' isle. Tis th' yin thing that cannae be taken awa' wance tis fun. Ah will be wi' ye as lang as yi'll want me tae be.”
They shared a smile.
“Good.”
Ben knew it wouldn’t be easy. He knew that the odds would be against them; their friends, family, most of Auradon would have doubts and opinions. His feelings for Mal hadn’t vanished into thin air, but he felt happy and hopeful that with time, all would be well and they would both get their own individual happy ending.
He had his Soulmate by his side and that’s all he needed.