Thorn and Ember

·. 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐻𝓊𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓇 𝒲𝒾𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃 ·.

MALEFICENT SAT QUIETLY in her dorm room, the soft light of the moon filtering through the window, casting an ethereal glow on her features. Her stomach grumbled, a sharp reminder of the meal she had skipped earlier in the day. She had been too focused on avoiding the prying eyes of her peers and, more importantly, her mother's expectations. A small part of her regretted not eating, but she quickly pushed the thought away. Hunger was a weakness she couldn't afford to show.

She had been doing this more often lately—skipping meals, staying up late, pushing herself beyond her limits. She wasn't always like this obviously, her mother had become more stricter after Maleficent had put her infamous curse on Sleeping Beauty. But it was her way of rebelling, of maintaining control in a life where so little was truly here to command. But the consequences were catching up to her. The fainting spell in dance class had been a glaring sign that she couldn't ignore.

A knock on her door startled her out of her thoughts. She knew who it was before she even opened it.

"Maleficent?" Hades' voice was soft, almost hesitant, as if he wasn't sure if he should be there.

She opened the door a crack, just enough to see him standing in the dimly lit hallway. The villains were always given the bad things, bad hallways, bad buildings, old, used, torn books. "What do you want?"

"I came to check on you," he said, leaning casually against the doorframe. "You disappeared pretty quickly when leaving my room."

She sighed and opened the door fully, allowing him to step inside. "I'm fine, Hades. Just needed some air."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. "You passed out in the middle of the dance floor. That's not exactly 'fine'."

She waved a hand dismissively, moving to sit on the edge of her bed. "It was nothing. I just. . . overexerted myself."

Hades closed the door behind him, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied her. "Overexerted? You were barely moving when you went down. What's really going on, Maleficent?"

Her gaze flicked away, focusing on the shadows dancing on the wall rather than on him. She couldn't tell him the truth—couldn't admit that she had been too stubborn to take care of herself. "It's none of your concern."

"Maybe not," he said, his tone gentle yet persistent. "But it's hard to ignore when you're collapsing in front of everyone."

She bristled at that, her pride flaring up. "I don't need  your pity, Hades. I can take care of myself."

"I'm not offering pity," he replied, his voice steady. "But I am worried. You don't exactly have a reputation for being careless."

She sighed, the weight of his concern pressing down on her in a way she wasn't used to. Hades had always been an annoyance, a rival, but now he was showing a side of himself that she wasn't prepared to deal with. A side that actually cared.

"I told you, it's nothing," she insisted, trying to keep her tone firm. "Just a bad day."

Hades didn't look satisfied with that answer, but he didn't push further. Instead, he moved to sit on the chair near the desk, his posture relaxed but his eyes keen. "You know, you don't have to go through this alone. We may not be friends, but that doesn't mean you have to shut everyone out."

Maleficent's eyes snapped to his, her expression guarded. "Who says I'm shutting anyone out?"

He chuckled, the sound low and almost affectionate. "You, for one. You've been distant lately. More than usual."

She didn't respond, her mind racing to find a way to deflect his attention. The truth was, she had been more withdrawn, more focused on keeping up appearances rather than maintaining her health. But that was something she wasn't willing to share with Hades—someone who could so easily use that information against her.