Chapter Text
Chapter 1
"Oh, I could hate you now.
It's alright to hate me now."
The metallic rattle of the chains filled the hallway as Max Hatter was being taken from his cell into the interrogation room. He let the guards do the heavy lifting, watching the tips of his boots drag across the prison floors with mild interest.
There were no windows in his cell, no clock to help distinguish the time of day nor season of the year and, as he soon realised, the vaulted ceiling of the hall was no different to the one in his cell. How incredibly dull.
No sooner had the iron-bound door creaked open than he was shoved into a seat opposite the interrogation officer, a serious man who spoke in a low, measured voice and wore his badges of honour with genuine pride. Max couldn't help but snicker to himself. What a pretentious prick.
"Max Hatter, son of Maddox Hatter?"
Max leaned back in his chair, feigning disinterest:
"In flesh and blood, I know."
The interrogator's eyebrow jumped, revealing a perceptive, likely judgemental gaze of his ageing grey eye. He wiped his mouth before reading on from the papers folded neatly in his hands:
"Well, Mr Hatter, you are-"
"Max."
The old man raised his other eyebrow at the purple-haired youth. The boy looked somewhere in the distance. His fingers fidgeted with the smaller chain that bound his wrists together.
"It's just Max. I don't use my father's name."
Black eyes met grey. Something in the way the boy's words sounded like a remorseful statement rather than a violent demand made the interrogator oblige. He nodded his head.
"Alright then, Max, you are probably wondering what reason we had to drag you here today."
Max rolled his eyes internally as his lips curled into a small smile. Aha. I'm bursting with curiosity. It was always the same story. More crimes committed by his father, that meant another attempt by the heroes of Auradon to use Max as bait, no matter how many times Max told them his father couldn't care less, nor how many times he was proven right. Hopefully they found more of his mad parent's scribbles of new machines and needed them interpreted, in exchange for dessert. Max hoped for the latter. Chocolate pudding topped being reminded his dad didn't give a shit about him by far. And it had been weeks since they'd let him have chocolate.
"Your father appears to know no limits, Max. He's gone after the Queen herself."
Max's dreams of chocolate pudding melted away. He rubbed his bloodshot eyes against the worn-out sleeve of his shirt, immediately losing what little interest he had in the beggining of this meeting.
"Okay. Good for him. What's that to do with me? Do I become a prince if they get it going or something?"
What's any of this to do with me, he wanted to ask, as he had, back when he was first put in "temporary confinement". For the safety of the Hero Kids, they'd said. To protect the kingdom from a obvious potential ally to the madman terrorising the land. Don't worry, Max, it'll only be for a short while; if anything, it's for your safety as well. Best be a good boy and go along with it, show cooperation to prove your innocence. Except weeks had turned into months, and the worse Maddox's crimes got, the worse it got for Max. As time went by the guards began to treat him more and more like an actual convict. Soon nobody offered him any real protection when the actual criminals threatened his life; it became all too easy for them to turn a blind eye to Max's black one, no matter how often it painted his face nor how many days he spent in too much pain to attend meal time. The "good guys" didn't care about the villains, even if the only thing the "villain" in question did wrong was be born to the wrong father. Every time he thought he'd made peace with these facts of the world, the heroes found another way to remind him he didn't.
He was dragged out of his thoughts by the interrogator's hand, which gently extended itself over Max's. The boy eyed it with distrust.
"Your father has abducted the Queen of Hearts. The reason I am telling you this, Max, is because we think you're the key to saving her."
Max couldn't help but laugh bitterly.
"How many times do I have to say it to get you delusional Heroes to understand, old man?" he pulled his hands back with venomous speed, his voice cracking as it grew louder:
"I don't know anything about my father's fucked up plans. He's as much a stranger to me now as he is to you."
His gaze dropped to his shackled feet then, the animosity in his voice losing its bite as the words settled in his own brain too, "You can take me back to my cell now."
The interrogator looked at the boy sitting in front of him with something akin to regret, but Max didn't want any of his pity. Pity never did him any good. And while he knew the old man wasn't the one responsible for his imprisonment, he also knew he wasn't actively doing anything to change it, either.
"They saw a vision."
Max's gaze shot up, exposing a mixture of curiosity and disbelief.
"What vision?"
"A member of the Madrigal family who possesses prophetic insight into certain future events had seen a vision of one of his descendants saving the queen of Wonderland. Accompanied by yourself."
Before Max could say anything, the old man hastily continued:
"It is his firm belief that only you and Luis Madrigal can save the Queen of Hearts, together. The ruling royal council decided to listen. Max Hatter, if you can pardon my use of your last name, under the orders of the royal body, you will accompany Bruno Madrigal's great-nephew, Luis, on a quest to rescue the Queen of Hearts."
The grandson of the Mad Hatter stared at the officer for what felt like forever, wondering if he'd finally gone as crazy as his dad.
"I will what?!"