Prenatal Hysterics, Part the First
Jafar looked in the mirror and saw that Maleficent was watching him from the bathtub, her arms folded on the edge to cushion her chin. He grinned at her and laid aside his razor.
"Greetings, my fair Queen." He drawled, sitting beside the tub and idly coiling her hair around his fingers. Maleficent smiled faintly at him, steam rising from the water making her lazy.
"I’ve a question for you, Jafar. One I’ve been meaning to ask for some time now." She said, stealing her hair back and slapping at his hand as he reached for more.
"I wait with baited breath, love." Jafar returned, trailing a tickling path down her ribs with a fingertip.
"What are your thoughts on children?" Maleficent inquired, forcing herself to sound casual. Jafar’s suddenly lost interest in his teasing touches and stared at her, unease creeping up on him.
“Children?" he repeated, nonplussed. “As in, screaming, sticky brats that leave destruction and migraines in their wake?”
“The very same, yes.”
Jafar laughed, nervously, and ran his hand through his dark hair.
“My thoughts? There are too many of them and it strikes me that they are more trouble than they’re worth. They suck money and vitality from their guardians like parasites well beyond infancy and turn on their parents without warning or provocation once they enter adolescence. Nasty beasts, children.”
“Hmm.”
Maleficent was quiet for a few minutes following his explanation, seemingly debating something with herself, and Jafar began to worry that he’d said something wrong…which brought still /more/ worry, for he’d made it clear that he didn’t think much of children and if she didn’t like that answer then that meant that Maleficent /wanted/ children and the world as he knew it would have its very foundations cracked asunder and-
Without a word Maleficent stood up in her bath, water streaming from her limbs like quicksilver. She carefully took one of Jafar’s hands between hers and laid his palm over the flat plane of her belly, catching his eyes with hers and holding his gaze.
In the next few seconds Jafar experienced what felt like a series of minor heart failures. His mind spiraled downward in a sickening free fall, blind and blank and useless as he scrambled for something, /anything/, to say to his waiting wife.
“You…you are…there’s…are you telling me that you’re…that there’s going to be…”
“A child. Yes.”
Her voice was soft, a little tremulous. Jafar clutched at Maleficent’s waist and stared up at her with crazed eyes, unable to comprehend why they, of all the people in Creation, should have this thrust on them.
“Merciful Allah.” Jafar rasped, releasing his wife and staggering unsteadily to his feet. “You’re pregnant.”
“I would appreciate it if you would stop staring at me as though I am some unspeakable horror.” Maleficent snapped, wrapping her arms about herself and stepping out of the bathtub. She appeared cold and collected as she strode across the tiled floor to retrieve her bathrobe, but Jafar had glimpsed fear in her eyes, and could see that his reaction had hurt her.
“Forgive me, Muirenn.” He muttered, forcing himself to collect his frantic thoughts and follow his wife. She stood with her shoulders hunched and her hands wringing the fine cloth of her robe, her treacherous emotions rising up in mutiny as her husband came and embraced her.
“I’m inclined not to.” She said, but turned around and wound her arms about him anyway.
“It is a…stunning piece of news. I had thought, between your species’ low birth rates and my prolonged exposure to reality-altering magics…”
“Yes,” Maleficent sighed, relaxing against him when he began stroking her hair. “Yes, I had thought the same.”
It was Maleficent who pulled away first, pulling her robe over her shoulders and bundling her hair up in a towel. The energy seemed to seep out of her now that her news had been given, leaving her limbs and head heavy and her heart leaden.
“I am retiring for the night. Mind that you don’t stay too long at James’ home; you know I have difficulty sleeping without you.”
Jafar managed a half-hearted glare as she brushed by him and headed into their bedroom, at once irked that she thought he’d leave her on this momentous night to go drink with Hook and shamed because he knew it was exactly what his instincts were screaming for him to do. He trailed after Maleficent, determined to find a way to…well, he didn’t know /what/ it was he needed to do in this situation, though he was certain turning tail and fleeing for the Man Cave wasn’t it.
“My Queen, I have no intention of /abandoning/ you!” he said earnestly, catching her about the waist as she slipped her nightgown over her head. She evaded him and climbed into their bed, calmly raising a hand to prevent him from sitting beside her.
“You’re of no use to me as you are; go and talk with James until you have yourself collected.” Maleficent commanded, turning her back to him and dimming the lights with a flick of her wrist. Jafar stared down at her, so determined to shut him out. Without protest he turned and strode from the room, leaving Maleficent to curl in on herself and wipe angrily at her eyes.
In minutes Jafar was shivering in their stables, the horses sleepily putting their heads over the stalls to stare balefully at him. Ignoring the shaking of his hands the Arabian saddled his patient mare and led her out into the icy winter winds, swinging himself onto her back. He spurred her into flight, snow lashing his face, blinding him as the horse galloped into the darkness.
***
Jumping ahead a few years from Meet Cute, wherein our Protagonists learn the values of birth control. If Maleficent's OOC here, it's because of the hormones.
"Greetings, my fair Queen." He drawled, sitting beside the tub and idly coiling her hair around his fingers. Maleficent smiled faintly at him, steam rising from the water making her lazy.
"I’ve a question for you, Jafar. One I’ve been meaning to ask for some time now." She said, stealing her hair back and slapping at his hand as he reached for more.
"I wait with baited breath, love." Jafar returned, trailing a tickling path down her ribs with a fingertip.
"What are your thoughts on children?" Maleficent inquired, forcing herself to sound casual. Jafar’s suddenly lost interest in his teasing touches and stared at her, unease creeping up on him.
“Children?" he repeated, nonplussed. “As in, screaming, sticky brats that leave destruction and migraines in their wake?”
“The very same, yes.”
Jafar laughed, nervously, and ran his hand through his dark hair.
“My thoughts? There are too many of them and it strikes me that they are more trouble than they’re worth. They suck money and vitality from their guardians like parasites well beyond infancy and turn on their parents without warning or provocation once they enter adolescence. Nasty beasts, children.”
“Hmm.”
Maleficent was quiet for a few minutes following his explanation, seemingly debating something with herself, and Jafar began to worry that he’d said something wrong…which brought still /more/ worry, for he’d made it clear that he didn’t think much of children and if she didn’t like that answer then that meant that Maleficent /wanted/ children and the world as he knew it would have its very foundations cracked asunder and-
Without a word Maleficent stood up in her bath, water streaming from her limbs like quicksilver. She carefully took one of Jafar’s hands between hers and laid his palm over the flat plane of her belly, catching his eyes with hers and holding his gaze.
In the next few seconds Jafar experienced what felt like a series of minor heart failures. His mind spiraled downward in a sickening free fall, blind and blank and useless as he scrambled for something, /anything/, to say to his waiting wife.
“You…you are…there’s…are you telling me that you’re…that there’s going to be…”
“A child. Yes.”
Her voice was soft, a little tremulous. Jafar clutched at Maleficent’s waist and stared up at her with crazed eyes, unable to comprehend why they, of all the people in Creation, should have this thrust on them.
“Merciful Allah.” Jafar rasped, releasing his wife and staggering unsteadily to his feet. “You’re pregnant.”
“I would appreciate it if you would stop staring at me as though I am some unspeakable horror.” Maleficent snapped, wrapping her arms about herself and stepping out of the bathtub. She appeared cold and collected as she strode across the tiled floor to retrieve her bathrobe, but Jafar had glimpsed fear in her eyes, and could see that his reaction had hurt her.
“Forgive me, Muirenn.” He muttered, forcing himself to collect his frantic thoughts and follow his wife. She stood with her shoulders hunched and her hands wringing the fine cloth of her robe, her treacherous emotions rising up in mutiny as her husband came and embraced her.
“I’m inclined not to.” She said, but turned around and wound her arms about him anyway.
“It is a…stunning piece of news. I had thought, between your species’ low birth rates and my prolonged exposure to reality-altering magics…”
“Yes,” Maleficent sighed, relaxing against him when he began stroking her hair. “Yes, I had thought the same.”
It was Maleficent who pulled away first, pulling her robe over her shoulders and bundling her hair up in a towel. The energy seemed to seep out of her now that her news had been given, leaving her limbs and head heavy and her heart leaden.
“I am retiring for the night. Mind that you don’t stay too long at James’ home; you know I have difficulty sleeping without you.”
Jafar managed a half-hearted glare as she brushed by him and headed into their bedroom, at once irked that she thought he’d leave her on this momentous night to go drink with Hook and shamed because he knew it was exactly what his instincts were screaming for him to do. He trailed after Maleficent, determined to find a way to…well, he didn’t know /what/ it was he needed to do in this situation, though he was certain turning tail and fleeing for the Man Cave wasn’t it.
“My Queen, I have no intention of /abandoning/ you!” he said earnestly, catching her about the waist as she slipped her nightgown over her head. She evaded him and climbed into their bed, calmly raising a hand to prevent him from sitting beside her.
“You’re of no use to me as you are; go and talk with James until you have yourself collected.” Maleficent commanded, turning her back to him and dimming the lights with a flick of her wrist. Jafar stared down at her, so determined to shut him out. Without protest he turned and strode from the room, leaving Maleficent to curl in on herself and wipe angrily at her eyes.
In minutes Jafar was shivering in their stables, the horses sleepily putting their heads over the stalls to stare balefully at him. Ignoring the shaking of his hands the Arabian saddled his patient mare and led her out into the icy winter winds, swinging himself onto her back. He spurred her into flight, snow lashing his face, blinding him as the horse galloped into the darkness.
***
Jumping ahead a few years from Meet Cute, wherein our Protagonists learn the values of birth control. If Maleficent's OOC here, it's because of the hormones.