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The first time was when she was seven.
It had been a year since her mother’s banishment and they had finally gotten used to the isolation. The isolation was not whole of course. Her mother still had visitors, even if they came less now, many less willing to chance Maleficent’s wrath. Queen Grimhilde was still a threat in her own right though. And sought out by whoever was willing to take the risk.
It was during one of these visits that some guest, Evie could never remember who, saw little Evie peeking around her mother and decided to compliment the girl. Perhaps in an attempt to appeal to the Queen’s ever-so-infamous vanity, the guest had extolled just how cute Evie was and how she was sure to grow up taking after her mother. Evie had always liked compliments, she used to get them so freely when she still saw people. She had giggled and accepted it gladly, excited at the concept of growing up to be like her mommy. Her mother had simply smiled placidly and urged Evie up to her room.
By the next morning, Evie had forgotten the guest and his words as her mom came in to help her dress. They had servants but Mother had always insisted the fools never did it right. Her mother enjoyed dressing her up and parading her around when there were still crowds to show off to. Whether it was pride (for herself or her daughter) or simply to brag about what wealth she could attain to the starving masses, Evie enjoyed it all the same. They couldn’t show off anymore, but her mother had kept dressing her up anyway. Evie hadn’t complained. She had always been eager to spend time with her mother.
Her mother had shown up with a nice little dress then, one of her fancier ones, and had brought with her, a little bodice to lace the dress up. Evie had put the dress on eagerly, and like usual, let her mother lace her up. Her mother pulled the laces tight. Then tighter. Then tighter. Evie had started heaving, struggling for breath even as she was pulled in tighter. Evie had tried to cry out, to complain of how it hurt, but her mother had just stared blankly at her. As though she couldn’t comprehend Evie words. Even as Evie choked and cried and struggled, the Queen held tight and stared.
It was only as Evie was about to collapse that her mother seemed to find herself and loosened the bodice. She did not speak though. Only tying the bodice on correctly while Evie whimpered. Before Evie could even ask why, her mother had softly kissed her cheek and left the room.
Evie always dressed herself from then on.
—
The second time, Evie was barely 12.
It was just after her 12th birthday, and that event so long ago had been relegated to the back of Evie's mind. Only thought about whenever her mother gave her a new outfit and mentioned helping her try it on. Evie usually managed to distract her long enough that she lost interest. Still, Evie had managed to convince herself what happened that day was just a bizarre accident. Her mother could be a bit… physical sure -always grasping, always pulling and shoving and gripping- but she never hurt her. Not like that.
But Evie was 12 now, more confident and growing into herself. Preening at her mother’s recent compliments about her avoiding the gangliness of puberty and growing up beautifully.
She was used to the isolation now. Comfortable in her only companionship being her mother and the servants. In her better moods, her mother was indulgent, quick to gift Evie with books and jewelry and fabrics. The servants adored her. Were quick to play and read and help her with her studies. It was nice.
Her favorite was one of the younger maids. No more than a decade older than her. The girl was young, but excitable and very talented. A wonderful singer, she was often the one to sing Evie to sleep. Her mother was fond of her too. Amused by her eagerness, the Queen would request she sing for her often. Anytime they were together, Evie could see her mother’s eyes following the maid. Watching. Tracking. With a look Evie wouldn’t understand until years later when that same look would follow her.
Evie still doesn’t know what happened, but one day, the Queen no longer seemed so fond of the girl. Her mother would grow irritated with her presence, irate at her singing. Evie started spending less time with the maid if only to put her mother in a happier mood. Until one day, the maid disappeared. Evie had looked for her for a week. When she finally dared to ask her mother about it, the queen simply laughed and gently hushed her.
That week there had been a surplus of meat on their plates for dinner. It wasn’t often they ate so well.
Evie wasn’t so fond of meat anymore.
—
The last time, Evie was 16.
She had just become friends, as much as anyone on the isle could be friends, with Mal. She now had a friend group besides Carlos, and it was nice to have Mal and Jay around. They were protective in their way. And Evie was just happy to have people outside the maids to talk to -the servants didn’t get so close to her anymore. Not since the Queen’s most recent rage at Evie’s attention being away from herself-.
She was still getting used to this newfound freedom around the Isle when she came home one day to her mother uncharacteristically quiet. She greeted Evie the same as usual, kissing her cheek and sending her off to her room. But her attitude seemed. Cold. Colder than usual.
Evie tried not to worry about it, to stay happy and eager for tomorrow, but the pit wouldn’t leave her stomach. Everything was the same when she came down for dinner. Whatever they could get was laid out, and the Queen was in her usual seat. Still so quiet. Evie wasn’t brave enough to try and start a conversation first. The whole dinner passed as Evie tried to eat what she could in the suffocating silence. Once it was over she practically ran to her room and worried herself to sleep.
She woke up. It was early. Too early and still dark. Her mother was looking over her. Staring at her with that same blankness from all those years ago. Evie was frozen. Terrified. Yet when her mother reached for her, all she did was softly caress her cheek, coaxing Evie back to sleep.
Evie felt off the whole next day and tried to avoid home for as long as she could. Carlos had noticed her anxiety but Evie tried to explain it away as still being nervous around the isle. Carlos quieted his questions even if he didn’t seem to believe her.
She couldn’t remain out forever though, and ended up back home eventually. Preparing for another rough silence, she was taken aback when her mother greeted her affectionately. Asked her about her day, the Queen escorted her to a chair and smiled at her. Evie’s relief, her hope that whatever was wrong had passed, kept her talking for hours. Finally, after dinner -there was a lot of meat again tonight. Evie tried not to think about it- her mother came to the room with a present.
A comb. A beautiful one, made of some milky crystal. Evie took it happily, but could not help the dread growing in her stomach. Her mother left quickly after that, kissing her goodnight.
Evie stared at the comb on her dresser. It was beautiful. It was a gift! -The Apple was a gift- But she couldn’t bring herself to use it. Not after the day before. Not after the bodice. It wasn’t the apple. Even as Evie repeated this to herself, she couldn’t bring herself to touch it.
Evie slept fitfully that night. Constantly looking over at the comb. It wasn’t the apple.
Her mother didn’t say anything the next morning, merely kissing her cheek with a passive smile. There were fresh apples on the table.
Weeks later, when Evie was packing for their trip to Auradon. Preparing for a new unknown, she saw the comb again. Sitting on her dresser, untouched as it had been since her mother put it there.
It wasn’t the apple.