THE SKIES WERE heavy with clouds, the wind carrying a sense of finality as the villains were marched through the enchanted gate, one by one. Maleficent walked beside Hades, her face impassive, though her mind swirled with thoughts she refused to give voice to. The magical barrier loomed ahead, shimmering with a cold, blue light that seemed to mock the power they once held.
"Nice place, huh?" Hades' voice was low, his usual sarcastic edge softened by something she hadn't heard before. Unease.
Maleficent didn't answer, her hand brushing against the swell of her stomach. She was six months pregnant, and though she hadn't shown it, the thought of raising a child on this barren rock terrified her. She stared straight ahead, her eyes narrowing as they approached the barrier.
Hades glanced down at her. "Hey. It'll be fine. We've handled worse, right?"
She gave him a sidelong glance, her voice dry. "And what exactly do you propose we do when we're stuck here? Raise her on villainy and scraps?"
"We're villains, Mal. It's kind of our thing," he smirked, but it didn't reach his eyes.
She bit back a retort, her lips tightening into a thin line. She wasn't in the mood for his banter. Not today. Not when they were about to be locked away for the rest of their lives, with their child destined to be raised in a cage.
As they passed through the barrier, a sharp chill spread over her skin, and the realization of what was happening hit her full force. This was it. This island was their future.
·.༄࿔
Months passed, the days blurring into a monotonous cycle. The villains had carved out a semblance of life on the island, their powers dampened by the barrier but not completely gone. Evil magic never worked on the island but Hades, ever the restless soul, had taken to building small fires and creating bursts of magic when he thought no one was watching. Maleficent watched him from the doorway of their crude home, her hand resting on her belly, feeling the child kick within her.
They had managed, somehow. The island was harsh, but they had each other. And for a time, that was enough.
Hades had even tried to make their exile feel less like a prison. He would use his magic to conjure small gifts—flowers that never withered, a bracelet woven from dark flames, little tokens to remind her that he still cared, even in the midst of their growing distance.
But no matter how hard they tried to pretend, the weight of their confinement lingered over them like a shadow.
The night Mal was born, a soft rain pattered against the thatched roof of their home. The labor had been long and exhausting, but when the baby finally came into the world, her cries pierced the silence of the island, a sound that felt both like a beginning and an end.
Hades stood beside the bed, his face lit by the flickering light of the small fire he had summoned. He gazed down at the tiny figure in his arms—dark hair, pale skin, and eyes that gleamed with a spark of something familiar.
"She's beautiful," he whispered, his voice rough with awe.
Maleficent, exhausted but filled with a warmth she hadn't felt in months, smiled weakly. "She's ours."
Hades sat beside her, holding their daughter as if she were the most precious thing in the world. "So, Mal Bertha, huh?" He gave her a crooked grin. "Got to say, I didn't think you'd actually go for it."
"Part of me liked the name," she admitted, brushing a hand over her daughter's cheek. "It's... fitting."
For a moment, the world seemed to narrow to just the three of them. Despite everything—their exile, the isolation—this felt like hope. They were a family, and for the first time since arriving on the island, Maleficent allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, they could make this work.
Nine months passed, and life on the island took its toll. Mal grew stronger with each day, her light green, curious eyes always watching the world with an intensity that reminded Maleficent too much of herself. But the isolation, the lack of freedom, began to wear on her and Hades. Their arguments, once occasional, became more frequent.
Hades had grown more distant, his frustration bubbling beneath the surface. He spent more time away, retreating to the edges of the island where he could be alone, away from the constant reminder that they were trapped.
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across their home, another argument erupted.
"You can't just keep disappearing every time things get hard!" Maleficent snapped, pacing in front of the fire, her hands clenched into fists.
Hades, leaning against the wall, ran a hand through his hair. "And what do you want me to do, Mal? Sit here and pretend like everything's fine? We're stuck on this rock, and it's not getting any better."
"I'm not asking for everything to be fine, Hades. I'm asking you to be here! For her." She gestured toward Mal, who was playing quietly in the corner, her innocent eyes wide as she watched her parents.
"I am here! But I can't stand this... this prison. I wasn't meant to be caged."
"None of us were!" Maleficent's voice rose, her anger spilling over. "But this is our reality now. You think I enjoy this? You think I wanted to raise our daughter in this hellhole?"
Hades' eyes flashed with anger, and he stood up straight, his voice cold. "Maybe she would've been better off not being born into this mess."
Maleficent froze, the words cutting deep. Her chest tightened, and for a moment, she couldn't breathe.
"How dare you," she whispered, her voice trembling with fury. "How dare you say that about her."
The days following that argument were tense, but they carried on, both too stubborn to admit that their relationship was crumbling. They still shared moments of warmth, fleeting as they were, but the cracks were widening, and neither of them knew how to fix it.
One afternoon, Maleficent found Hades by the shoreline, staring out at the endless stretch of water. The sight of him, so lost in his own thoughts, ignited something in her. A bitterness that had been building for months finally surged to the surface.
"We're never getting off this island, are we?" she said, her voice cold and accusing.
Hades didn't turn around. "You know the answer to that."
"So this is it? This is the life we're going to give her?" Maleficent's hands shook, and she felt the familiar sting of tears threatening to fall. "A life where we're nothing more than shadows of what we once were?"
"What do you want from me, Mal? I can't change this. No one can."
"I want you to care! I want you to fight for us!"
"I've been fighting, Mal! But maybe... maybe we were never supposed to work."
The words hung in the air between them, heavy and final.
Maleficent stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest. For the first time, she saw the truth. This wasn't going to work. They were too broken, too lost in their own pain to find each other again.
"You're right," she said quietly, her voice barely audible. "We were never supposed to work."
Hades left that day. He didn't say goodbye to Mal, didn't explain why he was leaving. He simply disappeared into the shadows of the island, retreating to the furthest corners, where Maleficent wouldn't find him.
