RATED T FOR DARK CONTENT, INCLUDING UNWANTED TEEN PREGNANCY AND MOTHERHOOD, DEPRESSION, SUICIDAL THOUGHTS, MENTIONS OF SELF-HARM, IMPLIED AND REFRENCED CHILD ABUSE, AND ILLNESS. MAL BASICALLY HAS PTSD AND IT'S NOT PRETTY.

This is probably the darkest thing I've ever written, proceed with caution.

This takes place on the Isle of the Lost and disregards everything about the book and movie except for characters and setting.

I'm moving this over from my AO3 account. It is cross-posted now. I hope you enjoy it.

A very out of place giggle echoed down the dark, cold halls of the decrepit castle.

It came from a tiny girl hiding under a pile of blankets.

A young woman stood beside the bed, arms crossed and the tiniest trace of a smile on her lips. "Where'd Melanie go?"

The girl tugged the blanket off her head. "Boo!"

"There she is!"

Melanie fell into a fit of loud, screechy, joyful giggles.

The response from the woman was a fond smile. She rested her hand on the child's mousy brown hair. "Easy, Melanie. Sh,"

The girl stopped giggling. "Sorry, Mama."

"It's okay, just stay quiet."

The girl nodded seriously.

"I think it's time for bed anyway."

"Okay." The little girl burrowed under the blankets and lay down on the pillow, looking up at her mother expectantly.

Her mother tucked the blanket around her and kissed her forehead.

"Mal!" a shout echoed down the hall. Mal leaned over and in a hushed tone, told Melanie to stay very still and quiet before pulling the blanket over her head. She straightened just as the door to her room was flung open.

"What was that despicable noise?"

"What noise?"

"It sounded like laughter... and not the evil kind."

Thank goodness her mother was rather oblivious and her daughter was rather small. "I don't know what you're talking about, Mother."

Maleficent eyed her daughter suspiciously. "You better not be lying to me, Mal."

"I would never lie to you, Mother."

"If you are, I will find out. And it won't be pretty. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Mother."

Maleficent turned in her heel, black robe swishing, and slammed the door behind her.

Mal waited until the footsteps were little kore than echoes before removing the blanket from her daughter's head.

The girl looked up at her, frightened.

"She's gone, Melanie." Mal promised quietly, smoothing her hair back with a gentle hand.

Mal had been lying to her mother for over five years. The lie had begun the day she had figured out she was pregnant. She had been only fourteen then.

Most people were afraid of her mother and didn't dare to approach Mal, but her lineage meant nothing to some people. She had always been small and some were more than happy to take advantage of that. And they had. It had scarred her in a way that was difficult to explain.

It may not have been all bad, though. She had been left with her Melanie because of it. Innocent, sweet Melanie. Someone to protect. A reason to fight.

Her mother hadn't cared enough to ask why she stopped going to school. Mal wasn't sure if she noticed that she had dropped out. She certainly hadn't noticed when she didn't come out of her room for two weeks and that a crying infant had suddenly appeared in her house. And she didn't notice when her fourteen year old daughter spent upwards of twelve hours in the worst pain of her life. Alone.

Melanie was almost five now and Maleficent had not seen her once. Maleficent didn't know she existed. Not that she would even care she existed, but Mal hid Melanie every time her mother came close. Just in case. Maleficent was crazy and Mal was not about to take any chances with her little girl.

Melanie was utterly terrified of Maleficent and Mal didn't blame her. Her mother was a terrifying person.

Melanie lay awake and shaking for half an hour before she succumbed to sleep. Mal sat up, just watching her.

Mal hadn't wanted Melanie. She had fully anticipated that as soon as the baby was born, she was going to drop it by the orphanage and never look back, but something deep inside of her had other ideas. She had taken one look at her newborn and instantly became attached. She couldn't give up her baby. It was small and vulnerable and needed her. And even though she was young and small and vulnerable too, she vowed to protect her.

Mal had never been gentle or tender in her whole life. She had been taught to be everything but those things. Compassion wasn't in her vocabulary. She shouldn't have been able to be kind to her child, but she was. Maternal instincts overpowered anything, at least for her. It was weird to go from only worrying about yourself and our own survival to suddenly being totally committed to a tiny human who could hardly open its eyes, but that was what had happened. She adored her little girl. Maybe not in the way Auradonians did, maybe not the 'right' way, but Mal would do anything for Melanie. She would do anything to keep her safe.

Melanie woke in a panic two hours after she had fallen asleep due to a nightmare.

When Mal was very small, even smaller that Melanie was, she had foolishly gone time and time again to her mother when she was frightened. She had eventually learned that doing that was a terrible idea. She would be belittle for her fears and told she was weak and sent back to bed without so much as a pat on the head. She would spend hours awake at night, afraid to close her eyes again. She told herself she was evil and shouldn't be afraid of anything, but she was still a child and children were easily frightened.

Mal sat up with her back against the headboard of the bed she shared with her little girl and pulled Melanie into her lap. Trembling, Melanie wrapped her arms around her mother's neck and snuggled against her.

This had happened often enough for Mal to know that it could be hours until the girl fell back to sleep, so she just stroked her hair and held her tight.

When the little girl closed her eyes once more, Mal put her back in bed and covered her up.

Melanie was scared of her grandmother, had constant nightmares, never had enough to eat, was always cold, and spent most of her life in hiding, yet she was happy. She didn't know any better, that was just how she was raised.

Mal frowned as she looked at her daughter's sleeping form. Melanie was the sole reason to continue to fight instead of giving up. That little girl was the only reason Mal was still alive. She might've had a better chance at life elsewhere, maybe even due to the orphanage. But Mal had been selfish and kept her.

It wasn't all her fault though, Mal had been raised evil. And wasn't part of being evil being selfish?