Prenatal Hysterics, Part the Last
When Jafar stepped out of the kitchen fireplace, he found that the lights were still on and Maleficent’s personal maid, Emily Mozzit, was sitting by the stove looking like death warmed over. The goblin jumped in fright when he stumbled into view, but composed herself enough to hop up and curtsy to him.
“Good night, Master. Is there something I can fetch ye?”
“Nay, Miss Mozzit. Why are you even awake at this hour?” he demanded, noting that the battered kitchen clock read half past one. Miss Mozzit yawned and wilted back into her seat.
“Her Majesty’s been up, ringing for tea. Seems anxious, pacing and rustling about up there.”
She was addressing an empty kitchen, for the Master had already left. Emily Mozzit sighed; though her employers were fair and generous, she sometimes wished they’d actually listen.
Meanwhile, Jafar took the stairs to the second floor two at a time and made his way down the darkened hall towards his and Maleficent’s bedroom. Light spilled over the rug from under the door, and with a pang of guilt the technomage slipped into the room.
Great Allah, he had upset her more than he’d first thought; every flat surface in the bedroom seemed to be littered with half-empty cups of tea, as though Maleficent had wandered the room and then abandoned them in her discontent. She was curled up under the comforter presently, her back to him as he eased down onto the bed. She turned over and looked up at him, her face tear stained.
“You’re home.”
Maleficent threw her arms around him without waiting for a reply, holding fast and burying her face in his shoulder. Stunned at this reception, Jafar wrapped his arms about his wife and sat back against the headboard. By the Night, she was acting as though she expected never to see him again.
“Oh,” he muttered, and combed his fingers through her silken black hair. “Dear Muirenn, I like to think I am a better man than that.”
Maleficent leaned away and gave a shuddering sigh, trying to dab at her eyes as covertly as possible.
“It was foolish of me,” she admitted, smiling bitterly. “But in my defense you looked as though I told you I was the vessel for one of the Elder Gods.”
“You are in no way at fault, love. I was- I am- terrified at the idea of fatherhood, but that was no excuse for running off. Whatever I feel must pale in comparison to what you are suffering.” He said, and he kissed her brow reassuringly. Maleficent sighed and slowly let herself relax.
“I concede that the idea of a child is daunting, considering that we are not the most nurturing couple. And then there are the Heroes to worry about; if ever they knew, they’d surely send their zealots to-.”
“You leave them to me. If the louts so much as blink in your direction…” Jafar growled, his arms constricting around his wife’s slender form. Amused, Maleficent chuckled and tugged at his beard.
“Quite the Papa Wolf already, aren’t we?” she purred, and Jafar smirked.
“In the past I wouldn’t worry so about you; you’re an army unto yourself, as James was kind enough to remind me. But you carry our child within you now- a fragile being, vulnerable to harm. There’s a reason we humans refer to yours as a ‘delicate’ condition.” He murmured, hesitantly laying his hand over her middle. It may have been his imagination, but he swore he could feel a tiny pulse of energy under his palm, small but steady. Maleficent supposed she ought to be irritated by such sentiments, but in truth Jafar’s protectiveness warmed her spirit. Smiling slightly, her hand joined his.
“She and I will be well defended.”
“She?”
Jafar stared at her with wide eyes, curious and wondering. He reminded her of a little boy confronted with a mystery of some kind, and it was all she could do to keep from laughing.
“Yes. True, she’s about the size of a pebble at this point, and isn’t really shaped like a female just yet…but I know that we shall have a daughter.”
“She’s going to be beautiful.” Jafar said automatically, seemingly delighted at the idea of a little girl. Maleficent did laugh at that, finding it almost absurd that he was so taken with something that had sent him running mere hours before.
“You’re her slave already!”
He grinned at her, lifting his hand to caress the sharp planes of her face.
“Look at her mother; how could she be anything short of stunning?”
Maleficent rolled her eyes, but was powerless to stop the dark green flush building in her cheeks. While Jafar gloated at gaining the upper hand, Maleficent curled against his side and laid her head on his shoulder.
“At any rate, we’ve an entire year to prepare for her birth. Even if we do not manage to conquer our fears in that time…she’s our child. She will always be our child, no matter how dreadful we may be as parents.” She muttered, punctuating her sentence with a yawn. Jafar rested his chin atop her head and smiledl.
“Even if parenthood proves more difficult than anticipated, we have one another. And know that I would never abandon you, Muirenn. I swear I would never even think of such a thing.”
“I know.” She said, luminous eyes drifting shut. “We’ll manage this together, you and I. Come what may.”
~~~
Seriously, guys, there's like snuggling and everything.
“Good night, Master. Is there something I can fetch ye?”
“Nay, Miss Mozzit. Why are you even awake at this hour?” he demanded, noting that the battered kitchen clock read half past one. Miss Mozzit yawned and wilted back into her seat.
“Her Majesty’s been up, ringing for tea. Seems anxious, pacing and rustling about up there.”
She was addressing an empty kitchen, for the Master had already left. Emily Mozzit sighed; though her employers were fair and generous, she sometimes wished they’d actually listen.
Meanwhile, Jafar took the stairs to the second floor two at a time and made his way down the darkened hall towards his and Maleficent’s bedroom. Light spilled over the rug from under the door, and with a pang of guilt the technomage slipped into the room.
Great Allah, he had upset her more than he’d first thought; every flat surface in the bedroom seemed to be littered with half-empty cups of tea, as though Maleficent had wandered the room and then abandoned them in her discontent. She was curled up under the comforter presently, her back to him as he eased down onto the bed. She turned over and looked up at him, her face tear stained.
“You’re home.”
Maleficent threw her arms around him without waiting for a reply, holding fast and burying her face in his shoulder. Stunned at this reception, Jafar wrapped his arms about his wife and sat back against the headboard. By the Night, she was acting as though she expected never to see him again.
“Oh,” he muttered, and combed his fingers through her silken black hair. “Dear Muirenn, I like to think I am a better man than that.”
Maleficent leaned away and gave a shuddering sigh, trying to dab at her eyes as covertly as possible.
“It was foolish of me,” she admitted, smiling bitterly. “But in my defense you looked as though I told you I was the vessel for one of the Elder Gods.”
“You are in no way at fault, love. I was- I am- terrified at the idea of fatherhood, but that was no excuse for running off. Whatever I feel must pale in comparison to what you are suffering.” He said, and he kissed her brow reassuringly. Maleficent sighed and slowly let herself relax.
“I concede that the idea of a child is daunting, considering that we are not the most nurturing couple. And then there are the Heroes to worry about; if ever they knew, they’d surely send their zealots to-.”
“You leave them to me. If the louts so much as blink in your direction…” Jafar growled, his arms constricting around his wife’s slender form. Amused, Maleficent chuckled and tugged at his beard.
“Quite the Papa Wolf already, aren’t we?” she purred, and Jafar smirked.
“In the past I wouldn’t worry so about you; you’re an army unto yourself, as James was kind enough to remind me. But you carry our child within you now- a fragile being, vulnerable to harm. There’s a reason we humans refer to yours as a ‘delicate’ condition.” He murmured, hesitantly laying his hand over her middle. It may have been his imagination, but he swore he could feel a tiny pulse of energy under his palm, small but steady. Maleficent supposed she ought to be irritated by such sentiments, but in truth Jafar’s protectiveness warmed her spirit. Smiling slightly, her hand joined his.
“She and I will be well defended.”
“She?”
Jafar stared at her with wide eyes, curious and wondering. He reminded her of a little boy confronted with a mystery of some kind, and it was all she could do to keep from laughing.
“Yes. True, she’s about the size of a pebble at this point, and isn’t really shaped like a female just yet…but I know that we shall have a daughter.”
“She’s going to be beautiful.” Jafar said automatically, seemingly delighted at the idea of a little girl. Maleficent did laugh at that, finding it almost absurd that he was so taken with something that had sent him running mere hours before.
“You’re her slave already!”
He grinned at her, lifting his hand to caress the sharp planes of her face.
“Look at her mother; how could she be anything short of stunning?”
Maleficent rolled her eyes, but was powerless to stop the dark green flush building in her cheeks. While Jafar gloated at gaining the upper hand, Maleficent curled against his side and laid her head on his shoulder.
“At any rate, we’ve an entire year to prepare for her birth. Even if we do not manage to conquer our fears in that time…she’s our child. She will always be our child, no matter how dreadful we may be as parents.” She muttered, punctuating her sentence with a yawn. Jafar rested his chin atop her head and smiledl.
“Even if parenthood proves more difficult than anticipated, we have one another. And know that I would never abandon you, Muirenn. I swear I would never even think of such a thing.”
“I know.” She said, luminous eyes drifting shut. “We’ll manage this together, you and I. Come what may.”
~~~
Seriously, guys, there's like snuggling and everything.