"Look, if you want to get all emotional and need someone to cry on, you picked the wrong fairy," Mal said, sounding sharp to hide how uncomfortable she was. "Ben's good at emotional stuff. He'd stand here with you."
So why did it have to be Mal?
She turned to leave. Was it accident when she brushed a flower? Had to be. Couldn't be kindness or pity. Not from Mal. Easier to think it was an accident. That's what she wanted anyway.
A miserable looking place. People in rags sewn together trying to make the best of a horrible situation, it seemed. There seemed to be some sort of party in the wide area before the ramshackle castle that loomed over it all.
Rickety market stalls and crumbling store fronts were all festively draped in tattered banners. There were lanterns and flickering candles.
At the center of it all sat a child. Maybe five or six. Bright blue hair in a mix of braids and loos locks. The child's clothes were more carefully mended than most. And she at in a chair, the center of attention, like it was a throne. A large tigger snuggled against her, purring like a kitten. Adults fawned on the child. Some, like the man with a hook for a hand that put his had in a gator's mouth just to make her laugh, showed off for her. The other children were screaming happily like little monster going over loot bags and pulling out baby animals - cats, fishbowl with eels, hyenas, and the like.
Finding Mal, at any age, in this scene wouldn't be hard, it would be impossible. Unless Malia looked up.
For little Mal, five or six herself, but looking very much how she looked now just younger with slightly darker purple hair, was on the balcony of the rundown castle. She stood, miserable, watching the fun below.
A woman stopped behind Mal a moment, letting her shadow loom long over the child. Maleficent. Closer to her heyday than in the other memory, her robes no more tattered than they had been that fateful day a decade or so back.
"Mother!" Mal yelped, jumping.
"What is going on here?" the woman demanded as she advanced.
Below a tall slender man in a patched suit was performing a highly inappropriate shadow puppet show for the delighted children.
"It's a birthday party," Mal said. She sniffed, trying to hide how upset she was. Trying, and failing. "And I wasn't invited."
"Is that right?" her mother asked. She stepped closer to Mal, looking down over her. For a moment their shadows were one. For a moment it seemed to Mal that her own shadow had grown larger and gained horns. Little Mal stared at the shadow. The woman had eyes for the festivities only. "Celebrations are for the rabble," the woman scoffed. "Never the less, Evil Queen and her horrid progeny will learn soon enough from their pitiful little mistake!" she declared.
The woman moved around the child who was now staring at her in awe. She stepped to the edde of the balcony, where only the rail stood between her and a terrible fall. She raised herself to her full height as thunder crashed and lightning flashed behind her.
Everyone at the party stopped at once and turned to face the balcony, looks of horror stealing across their faces.
The woman glared down at them all, eyes filled with vengeance and hate not yet dulled by the Isle. "THIS CELEBRATION IS OVER!" she declared. "NOW, shoo, flee, and scatter like the evil little fleas you are! And you! Evil Queen and your daughter! From now on, you are dead to the entire island! You do not exist! You are NOTHING! Never show your faces anywhere ever again! OR ELSE!"
The crowd scattered as boar-like henchmen flooded out of the castle to harass them.
Little Mal watched it all. Watched as the Evil Queen, still lovely then, rushed her terrified daughter away. And little Mal stood straighter, eyes glittering. When the last of the crowd was gone, her mother turned dramatically and swept inside. Mal stared after her a moment longer, then whispered to herself, "One day I'm going to be that evil," her voice was awed. And determined. "One day the whole Isle will fear and hate me too... and then I will have the rest of my name..."
Eyes still glittering, an evil little smile curling her lips, she rushed off after her mother, into the castle.
no subject
So why did it have to be Mal?
She turned to leave. Was it accident when she brushed a flower? Had to be. Couldn't be kindness or pity. Not from Mal. Easier to think it was an accident. That's what she wanted anyway.
A miserable looking place. People in rags sewn together trying to make the best of a horrible situation, it seemed. There seemed to be some sort of party in the wide area before the ramshackle castle that loomed over it all.
Rickety market stalls and crumbling store fronts were all festively draped in tattered banners. There were lanterns and flickering candles.
At the center of it all sat a child. Maybe five or six. Bright blue hair in a mix of braids and loos locks. The child's clothes were more carefully mended than most. And she at in a chair, the center of attention, like it was a throne. A large tigger snuggled against her, purring like a kitten. Adults fawned on the child. Some, like the man with a hook for a hand that put his had in a gator's mouth just to make her laugh, showed off for her. The other children were screaming happily like little monster going over loot bags and pulling out baby animals - cats, fishbowl with eels, hyenas, and the like.
Finding Mal, at any age, in this scene wouldn't be hard, it would be impossible. Unless Malia looked up.
For little Mal, five or six herself, but looking very much how she looked now just younger with slightly darker purple hair, was on the balcony of the rundown castle. She stood, miserable, watching the fun below.
A woman stopped behind Mal a moment, letting her shadow loom long over the child. Maleficent. Closer to her heyday than in the other memory, her robes no more tattered than they had been that fateful day a decade or so back.
"Mother!" Mal yelped, jumping.
"What is going on here?" the woman demanded as she advanced.
Below a tall slender man in a patched suit was performing a highly inappropriate shadow puppet show for the delighted children.
"It's a birthday party," Mal said. She sniffed, trying to hide how upset she was. Trying, and failing. "And I wasn't invited."
"Is that right?" her mother asked. She stepped closer to Mal, looking down over her. For a moment their shadows were one. For a moment it seemed to Mal that her own shadow had grown larger and gained horns. Little Mal stared at the shadow. The woman had eyes for the festivities only. "Celebrations are for the rabble," the woman scoffed. "Never the less, Evil Queen and her horrid progeny will learn soon enough from their pitiful little mistake!" she declared.
The woman moved around the child who was now staring at her in awe. She stepped to the edde of the balcony, where only the rail stood between her and a terrible fall. She raised herself to her full height as thunder crashed and lightning flashed behind her.
Everyone at the party stopped at once and turned to face the balcony, looks of horror stealing across their faces.
The woman glared down at them all, eyes filled with vengeance and hate not yet dulled by the Isle. "THIS CELEBRATION IS OVER!" she declared. "NOW, shoo, flee, and scatter like the evil little fleas you are! And you! Evil Queen and your daughter! From now on, you are dead to the entire island! You do not exist! You are NOTHING! Never show your faces anywhere ever again! OR ELSE!"
The crowd scattered as boar-like henchmen flooded out of the castle to harass them.
Little Mal watched it all. Watched as the Evil Queen, still lovely then, rushed her terrified daughter away. And little Mal stood straighter, eyes glittering. When the last of the crowd was gone, her mother turned dramatically and swept inside. Mal stared after her a moment longer, then whispered to herself, "One day I'm going to be that evil," her voice was awed. And determined. "One day the whole Isle will fear and hate me too... and then I will have the rest of my name..."
Eyes still glittering, an evil little smile curling her lips, she rushed off after her mother, into the castle.