"...Mother?" (A Descendants × Hadeficent story)

Ch. 6 - Little Mali

"Hades...you cheated!"

The shrill exclamation was enough to send the blood of everyone within a 10 metre radius of Bargain Castle running colder than a lake in winter. Cheated? Such news...who might the unfortunate person be, to be caught by — dear goodness — her Great Evilness? For once, some forgot that the Lord of the Underworld was immortal, and even made some prayers that the Olympian God did not suffer a horrible death by the hands of the Dark Fae...

"You think I wouldn't know you stuck another side of 6 on the die?! You fool!"

Ah.

It was as though the whole Isle had deflated with disappointment, its spirit gone in a sigh.

No more tea, no more juicy gossip.

But of course, what were they thinking? No one had seen the evil duo for months, except the last time when the fairly fuming fae threw open the doors of her castle and threw her goblin horde out — "You blithering bunch of idiots! Are you colour blind?!" — while her husband stood behind her, silently watching. When would the Lord of the Underworld ever have the chance to cheat, then?

"Ow! Hey!" Hades's bicep was quickly met with Maleficent's palm, and a surprisingly loud slapping sound was heard. "I say, would you stop hitting me, woman?" Hades muttered crossly, rubbing the bruised spot on his arm that was unfortunately not covered by leather and exposed to her, "You have the strength to rival a demigod, I swear..." "May I remind you who provoked all these?" Maleficent glared at him, moving away from the sofa as she slowly headed to the kitchen counter to get a glass of water, and Hades snorted as he headed up the stairs to find the tub of anti-bruising cream that Zeus has sent to him (after having personally witnessed Maleficent slap Hades in the arm and watching the Lord of the Underworld subsequently fall out of the frame for a few seconds before he returned, his mohawk messed.), "I cheated just that once. Surely it didn't warrant a slap again, my cranky Mistress of All Evil, yes?"

"Where's the cream?" Hades spoke to himself as he ruffled through the first-aid chest, "I don't remember finishing it..." Digging further into the box, the god tossed out expired plasters, partially eaten bandages, awful-smelling ointment, yellowed and dried herbs, and basically everything medicinal except the anti-bruising cream. "That's odd." "Mal, have you seen the cream?" Hades shouted over his shoulder, now searching through the pile of ointments he had thrown onto the bed, "Mal?"

The silence that answered him was both awkward and concerning.

"Mal? Mal, you there?"

No answer again.

"Mal, this isn't funny..."

Finally, some sound came. But it only made Hades more worried.

Crash!

Glass. The sound of glass breaking, smashed or dropped, was terrifying, no matter what.

Randomly grabbing a roll of old bandage, Hades sprinted down the stairs like it was the last 100 metres of a 2 mile run, and even as he rushed to the counter, he found Maleficent hunched over the countertop, her knuckles unnaturally white as they gripped the edge of the kitchen counter, fragments of glass laying by her feet, hidden in a pool of water. "Mal, dear Zeus!" Hades exclaimed the moment he saw his wife in that state, "Are you alright?!"

"No." Maleficent answered very honestly, her green eyes shining with agony, "I am not alright at all, Hades." "Whatever is happening?" Hades panicked at once, bending down to pick up the fragments of glass — a potential danger if Maleficent moved slightly and stepped on it by accident — but just as his fingers clamped a piece of glass between them, the pool of water suddenly grew in size, and a gasp escaped from Maleficent's lips, before she suddenly gripped his shoulder, pressing into the knot of his neck by accident, "Hades...Asclepius..."

"What about him? Mal??" Hades was trying not to voice the pain in his shoulder from her nails digging into the knot of his neck, and Maleficent cursed under her breath in frustration at her husband's lack of understanding, "Hades, get Asclepius. Now!" "Now? But he said only to contact Auradon only when you were in— Oh." Hades watched as her eyes began to glow as she glared at him, "Are you going to make the call or do I have to walk up to our bedroom in this state to do it myself?"

"I'll go." Hades instantly abandoned the glass piece, bolting up the stairs, and Maleficent collapsed on the sofa, barely having staggered to it on her own, and with whatever clarity of mind she had left amongst the cloud of pain, she muttered to herself:

"Never again...never again, Hades..."

...

"Let's call her Mal."

No matter how tired she was, all of its traces disappeared from her green eyes, which widened till they looked like two bottle green marbles.

"What?"

"We didn't think of a name good enough yet, so might as well follow the Isle's trend and call her Maleficent Jr. And Mal for short." Hades watched his wife cradle their newborn girl with quite some envy, and Maleficent hesitated as she glanced down at her daughter, who had tufts of rich purple hair, something rather puzzling but natural. Fairies in the Moors were constantly born with oddly coloured hair, which might have explained the purple hair...sort of.

"I have been through too much. I...I don't want her to go through all that. You will condemn her to my fate by giving her that name." Maleficent spoke softly, watching as her daughter's chest rose and fell peacefully, and her own past flashed before her eyes: betrayed, her most beloved possession severed from her, living her life in guilt for decades, being wronged and yet having to say nothing to serve a cause. She didn't want to damn her daughter to such a life of misery.

"She won't, Mal. Or we could call her Malinda, if you really don't want to call her Maleficent. It still retains some of your name. She does have some of your elements, after all. Look at those green eyes." Hades waited for Maleficent to finally pass their daughter to him, and as though noticing the itch in Hades's arms, the faerie gently handed the bundle to him, "They're darker than mine, maybe because yours are obsidian."

"Malinda Hades. I think maybe a middle name too? It's a trend now." Hades cooed as he planted a gentle kiss on the infant's forehead, "What should we..." "Bertha." Maleficent spoke without a thought, "Bright one." "You and your obsession with light." Hades snorted, although he didn't seem to disagree, "If she has fire abilities, Bertha will be more fitting than ever, alright. Although...last I remembered, doesn't Bertha mean some sort of weird lace at the back of a dress?" "Does it?" Maleficent frowned, "I don't think I ever heard of that..."

"You weren't born yet. Makes sense." Hades muttered, and Maleficent laughed, holding her ribs gingerly before she asked a final question, "But if you call her Mal, won't it clash? Who won't know who you're calling." "Then I'll call her Mali." Hades grinned goofily, not noticing that Maleficent was struggling to keep her eyes open, "So...Malinda Bertha Hades?"

No answer.

"Mal?" Hades finally realised that his wife had already fallen asleep, her eyelids shut over the luminescent eyes of hers, but it bothered him not. Hoisting his sleeping daughter closer to him, love swelled in his chest as Hades murmured against her pale skin (must be a trait inherited from Maleficent, of course):

"You made us a family at last, my child...

...Malinda Bertha Hades...

...my baby girl."

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