#this isn’t directly in the same universe as my other terrible babyfic but it’s partly the set up for that

[thebluestbluewords]

pick a card, any card

"Pick a card," Celia Facilier demands. "Let my friends tell your future." 

Mal, crammed in the backseat of the limo on Ben's other side, laughs. "Don't do it, Ben. She's just trying to scam you out of your money." 

Celia's mouth drops open, theatrically scandalized at the accusation. "Moi? I would never, ever try to scam anyone, and I'm hurt you'd say such a thing." 

She's so small. Her hands, on the cards she's fanning out in Ben's face, are bony. She's handling them well, but Ben remembers the feeling of cards too big and too stiff for his childhood hands to manage, and even though Celia is more comfortable with her cards than he's ever been, the strain shows in the way she tilts her hand to manage them all. 

"Sure," Ben says, instead of listening to Mal. His beloved fiancee is wonderful and all, but sometimes she forget that he is, in fact, an adult who is more than capable of making his own decisions.  He loves her so much, and so deeply that it scares him sometimes, but the blind spots that come from growing up on the Isle are weird, and the issues that Mal has with trusting people aren't one of her best qualities, and definitely aren't ones that Ben wants to fall victim to himself. "I'll take one reading of my future, please." 

Celia laughs.

She's so young.

"Tell me what you want to know," the kid in front of him says, reshuffling her cards quicker than the naked eye can follow. "Love advice? Money? Fame and fortune? What's your poison, King of Auradon?" 

"No poison. The drought of love should be sweet." Ben says firmly. "I want to hear about my future love life." 

"Ah." The cards fan out again, and Celia giggles. She sounds like Freddie when she does it, which is weirdly sweet. Not many of the Isle kids will admit to having family, so it's sort of nice when sisters or brothers do something, and they reveal that they're not so different after all. "Sweet it might be, but love can go sour at any moment. Pull one card." 

Ben smiles. "Any card?"

"Not that one!" Celia squawks, wobbling the cards like she's going to jerk her hand back. "Just kidding. You can pull any card you want, but you have to feel it. Let my friends guide you." 

Ben stops. "Feel the cards," he repeats. "Okay. I feel….” He lets his hand hang still for a moment. The cards are worn, or possibly painted to look worn. They look stiff and solid, not like they’re soft and crumbling on the edges despite their worn backs. They don’t feel like much of anything to him, but he’s always been empty of magic. It’s the one thing that his father has always been proud of. 

Magic feeling and the lack thereof thoroughly investigated, Ben wiggles his fingers. One of the cards on the left is sticking out of alignment a bit, so he moves toward that one, and then rests his finger on the card before it. Any changes always have a root cause, so it feels right to pick the card before the odd one out. “This one?” 

Celia lets him pull the card. 

The rest of her deck snaps back together like a fan, and Celia’s hand shoots out, palm up. “Now hand it over. And also, that'll be five dollars, no refunds or exchanges if you don't like my advice after."

"A wise business practice," Ben agrees, shifting so he can pull out his wallet. Five dollars might be a scam on the isle, but it won't get her far in Auradon, and for showmanship and card control alone, she deserves at least double that. "Here you are." 

Celia takes the fifty-dollar note between two fingers, and there's a half-second of hesitation where Ben can see her eyes flickering over the number on the folded bill. They're supposed to be taking her off the isle because of her potential for goodness. Scamming the king out of fifty dollars isn't a very good thing to do, but Ben is remembering right, the isle kids are too proud to ask for money when they need it. And she will need it, because coming over with nothing but the clothes and personal items she can fit in her suitcase isn’t going to be enough. Giving money to the isle kids outright is awkward, and Ben still has a scar on his shoulder from where Mal pulled a knife on him after he tried to buy her a car, but making Celia feel like she’s cheating him for it might be too much of a risk in this case, with her so brand new and unsure of how to fit it. 

So. 

"I don't carry anything less than fifty," Ben lies, smiling. "You can give me another reading later, if you're up for it. Call it fair?" 

#my fic #descendants #descendants fic #ben florian #celia facilier #mal is here but she’s not actually important in this #this is bonding time for ben and celia ONLY #this isn’t directly in the same universe as my other terrible babyfic but it’s partly the set up for that #the start of ben (and evie and jay) falling in love with the younger isle kids they’re bringing over #and thinking that MAYBE POSSIBLY they could have something like that. Someday. Maybe.