So, I wrote this a while back, but I didn't post it because it felt so random. But I thought some people on Tumblr might want to read it, so here it is. I have a headcanon that the Shaman Witch from season 8 is Ogron's mother, and so the woman in this story is her. Her name is Aiofe, and she's just generally a bad parent. She left Ogron when he was young, and became a follower of the Ancestral Witches, for who, she destroyed Dyamond.

The Omega Dimension was a veritable museum of failed villains. Those whose plots had fallen apart, occasionally due to heroes and their inevitable luck, but, more often than not, due to their own failings. An inability to see the flaws in their plans, missing an important detail, lacking the stomach to simply kill their enemies when they had the chance, or some other easily-avoided drawback.

Aoife couldn't help feeling a quiet sense of prideful superiority as her footsteps echoed throughout the frozen caverns, free to move and breathe and cast her spells as she pleased, not even known to the people that froze villains in Omega. Why would she be? She had no grandiose schemes to rule the world in play. When she eventually did arise, she'd be prepared. And those that liked to see themselves as heroes would fall before they even saw it coming.

Of course, if she was so efficient and prepared, so detached from failings, why was the powerful witch walking through the still silence of the most dreaded prison in the dimension? The answer irritated her no end, in all honesty. Were she still in possession of her former benefactors, the prospect of taking this little trip would have had her laughing. However, now, she rather thought this sojourn would be beneficial.

Just as she was becoming bored of mentally gloating over her fellow villains' failed, frozen forms, her gaze finally fell upon what she was seeking. A ravine, deep and seemingly bottomless, dropping off into endless darkness.

She caressed the ice at the edge, breathing in the delicious shiver of the aggressive, powerful magic that had shattered the cavern, carving this ravine in the first place. It was faded, but magic fuelled by the Dragon Flame took a long time to vanish from the surroundings. Had she come sooner, it would have been stronger, but she was a busy woman. Frankly, she was barely convinced this was worth her time, but since the Ancestresses had been destroyed, she was lacking in power, and she could use some easily-played servitude.

She stepped forwards, her foot coming down on the empty air. Most people's stomachs would have flipped at the sensation of falling thousands of feet, but she simply stepped her other foot into the dark abyss, allowing her magic to slow her fall, her feet touching down on shards of ice and stone, her gaze flicking around disinterestedly.

She caught sight of a man with long blonde hair frozen in the ice, his expression twisted in a silent scream. Unbothered, she brushed past him, ignoring the other frozen fool, finally finding the reason for her journey.

There, in front of her, his face painted with pure, unadulterated terror, was a man she'd last seen as a boy, staring up at her with wide, confused eyes, unable to understand that she was leaving him. God, that day had been disappointing. Thank God she'd left him to Yllidith, left her associate with the task of explaining she was gone, and she wasn't coming back. Well, she assumed he'd explained. For all she cared, her son could have received not a word of her departure.

She reached out a hand, wiping the condensation from the ice covering her son, frowning at his blatant display of fear. It didn't do to show you were scared of your enemies. It didn't do to be afraid in the first place. Fear meant something could hurt you. Fear was weak. But what had she expected, really?

She had a great many doubts about this, but she was here. She may as well do what she came for. And if he proved to be as useless as he appeared, well, she could just dispose of him.

She held out her hand, snapping her fingers and watching disinterestedly as the ice evaporated, leaving Ogron to fall to the ground, trembling from the cold and fighting to draw breath.

'Are you quite done lying on the floor?' she asked exasperatedly, her clipped tone cutting crisply through the cold. Ogron stiffened at the sound of her voice, and she wondered whether he recognised her, or was just nervous hearing another person after four years frozen in icy solitude. Either way, he'd spent quite enough time lying in the dirt.

'Up!' she snapped. 'This is pathetic.'

Trembling, Ogron pushed himself up on his elbows, blinking in bleary confusion. Oh, this was taking forever! She almost considered dragging him up to save time, but she'd spent his childhood teaching him to pull himself up on his own, and she was hardly compromising one of her few good parenting moments over impatience. So, she settled for irritably tapping her foot as he took a humiliatingly long time to regain clarity to his sight, rolling her eyes as he gasped with shock as soon as his gaze focused on her.

'M-m-mother?' he stammered, his voice trembling with shock and cold.

'I think you can determine that on your own, Ogron,' she sighed, staring down at him with disdain. 'And I believe I told you to get up.' She smiled internally as he fought to drag himself up; it had been centuries, and yet, despite her abandoning him, and whether he was aware of it or not, he was eager to please. She could use that to her advantage.

Shaking from exhaustion and cold, Ogron stammered out, 'W-w-what…what are you…'

'Speak clearly, child,' she snapped. 'I neither have the time nor the inclination to sort out your meaning from stuttered syllables!'

Ogron flinched at the venom in her voice, managing to force his words into some semblance of clarity. 'What are you doing here?'

'Freeing my disappointment of a son from the prison he landed himself in,' she answered, no real malice in her tone, just a cold sense of truth. She saw the hurt flicker in his eyes, the same icy blue as their surroundings, the same as her own gaze, but she really didn't care. If he couldn't hold himself together over the simple truth, that was his own failure.

'Really, I had remarkably low expectations for you as it was, but being frozen by a group of teenagers?' She pursed her lips, shaking her head with disappointment. 'This is lower than I expected.' Oh good lord, there he went again, flinching like a wounded puppy. This was her child? She should just refreeze him and leave. Certainly there had to be others she could use to aid her in regaining her power. But before she could, she thought back to that spark of promise she'd seen in him; that little evidence that he could become like her, and maybe, just maybe, actually be worth something.

'I…' Ogron started quietly, his voice shaking.

'Did I ask for whatever poor semblance of an excuse you are attempting to present me with?' Ogron feel silent, staring miserably at the ground. This was truly becoming tiring. 'Look at me, Ogron. I did not birth a son who fixes his gaze on the dirt like some coward.'

Ogron hesitantly lifted his gaze, his eyes searching hers, likely for some of the compassion he probably still hoped she possessed. Well, she'd be sure to correct that little delusion later. But for now, she had more important things to speak of.

'Why did you come for me?' he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. 'You don't care, you've never cared, so why are you helping me?' Oh, good, he wasn't living under the impression she loved him. Now she wouldn't have to correct him. She thought over her answer for a moment, ensuring it didn't come across wrong.

'I see…not promise, not exactly, but something close, within you.'

Ogron stared at her as though she'd told him he had a second head.

'…What?'

'Were you not listening to me?' she snapped irritably. 'You know I hate it when I am ignored, Ogron!'

'No, I heard you…' he murmured. Oh, there he went again; speaking like the meek little child she'd left behind. If he kept doing that, she'd lose all patience and refreeze him, promise or no. Fortunately, he found some strength from God-knew-where and spoke again. 'Promise? Really? After treating me like nothing right up until you abandoned me?'

Aoife rolled her eyes; she was getting rather tired of this.

'Ogron, that was hardly personal.'

His eyes flashed with a mixture of hurt and anger. 'Hardly personal? I was you son, and you left me.'

'You can hardly expect me to take real interest in a child that serves no purpose,' she replied coldly, not reacting as his breath caught in his throat, flinching as though she'd physically struck him.

'Then why are you here now?' he demanded, slipping into anger as a method of protecting himself from the hurt she so casually inflicted. She wasn't sure if he was aware of his emotional shift. Either way, that would have to be dealt with. An inability to control one's emotions was unacceptable. It made you weak and unpredictable.

'I saw something that made me believe perhaps you aren't as useless as I had believed.' Ogron flinched again, and she wondered how each new barb seemed to catch him off-guard. Surely he should be getting used to it by now?

'What?'

'You can be like me,' she murmured softly, and he started with surprise, though she could see a flicker of hope in his eyes. Despite his anger towards her, she could see through every wall he'd ever put up, right through to the weak little child who still craved her love. She was so easy to manipulate into whatever she wanted…it was almost enjoyable.

'What…what do you mean?' he asked quietly. Her lips quirked into a small smirk. He wanted this. Wanted to be like her. Though he wouldn't admit it after what she was about to say, she knew the moment she saw the spark of hope in his gaze that he was hers. Always had been.

'There were four of you, weren't there?'

Ogron froze, his eyes flickering with a whole flood of emotions: confusion, hurt, fear, anger, sadness, and most of all, guilt. She'd have to be sure he ceased to feel that last one. Oh, the whole lot needed to go, really. But there was time for that later.

'…Yes…' His voice was quiet, shaking with barely-dampened pain. 'Why?'

'You, the destruction wizard, the fast one…and your little shapeshifting pet.'

Ogron's eyes burned at her words, and he when he spoke, his voice had a harsh edge. 'Do not speak of Duman like that!'

She waved a hand dismissively, brushing off his indignation.

'Yes, yes…I don't see why you care to respect his memory, or whatever that little outburst was about; after all, you left him to die.' There were a few seconds where Ogron just ceased to breathe, his eyes wide with pain, and she waited patiently for him to pull himself together, a courtesy he'd done little to deserve, but she supposed she could afford it anyway.

'No…' Ogron whispered, his voice sounding suspiciously like he was fighting back tears. 'No, that's not true…you're lying…'

'As much as I do love a good lie - just as you do - you were there. You know I'm not.'

'Is…is this why you're here?' he choked out, hugging his arms around himself and sinking to his knees. 'To torture me over the death of my friend?' Aoife shook her head, kneeling before him and cupping his cheek in her hand, the gesture a calculated show of maternal affection. As anticipated, his breath caught in his throat as he stared searchingly at her.

'Ogron, no…I'm proud of you.'

'…W-what? Proud of me? For letting someone I care about die?' She shook her head.

'No…you finally chose between friendship and power, Ogron. And you chose right.'

'No…no!' His voice was furious, but he didn't pull away from her touch, as though scared to lose the affection he'd sought his whole life.

'Yes…you chose power over protecting the life of one who granted you no benefit, and it gives me hope for you.'

'No…' Ogron reluctantly pulled away a little, shaking his head. 'No…I made the wrong choice…' Aiofe's lips quirked into a smile.

'If it was the wrong choice, you'd never have made it. The choice between life and power is an important one. It's a choice that defines a person. And you can choose your goals over whatever little attachments you believe you've made. That's why I'm here.'

'Because you think I have no regard for the people I care about?'

'Because I think you can cease to care at all.'

Ogron's breathed hitched and he looked away. She was tempted to snap for him to look at her, but she caught his chin instead and gently guided his gaze back to her. 'You can be strong, Ogron…and I see worth in the strong.' His gaze flickered with uncertainty. 'Come with me. I'll make you strong, as you should be.' Ogron bit his lip, but even as he deliberated, she could feel him leaning into her touch. 'You're very cold,' she murmured softly. 'Let me warm you up.' A small fire spell she'd picked up from Valtor trickled from her fingertips, washing over Ogron in a warm orange aura, finally easing his incessant shivering and shattering a number of his barriers to her words.

'Why should I trust you…?' he whispered, his eyes staring deep into hers, seeking love and reassurance. 'You left me.'

'I left a child,' she replied softly. 'You are no child. Not anymore. You can be worthy of my pride.'

He seemed about to give in when his gaze caught on something behind her, his eyes clearing.

'My friends.' Oh dear lord. Was he honestly still attaching emotional meaning to those meaningless minions of his?

'Ogron…' she started, but he shook his head.

'If I'm free, I have to free them too.' He got to his feet, Aoife rising with him. She watched as he approached…what was his name? Anagan? Yes, that was it. She knew how this ended, but he had to learn.

Ogron placed his hands on Anagan's prison, his muscles tensing in concentration as he fought to summon the magic to shatter the ice and free the man to whom he attributed so much emotional significance. There were a few minutes of quiet as Ogron did his absolute best, but, weakened and lacking in the magic he needed, it was a futile effort.

'Have you figured out yet that it's not going to work?' Aoife asked, watching as Ogron sagged miserably against the wall of the cavern, his body shaking from the exertion of trying to summon his magic.

'Why?' he demanded. 'Why won't it work?'

'You don't have the right magic. You need ice or fire magic to break Omega's ice. Well, I suppose you could just shatter it, but that would kill whoever was frozen within. Which I would frankly view as a rather practical outcome in these circumstances, but I imagine you would not.'

Ogron buried his face in his hands, his voice quiet and choked. 'I don't understand…' he muttered. 'I don't understand you. You abandoned me, then you came back, and you still treat me like nothing, then you act like you care, and then you say something like…like that…' Oh, well now this was just annoying.

'Ogron, do not have a breakdown on the floor,' she said firmly.

'Oh, sorry, should I have a breakdown on the ceiling instead?' he asked, laughing brokenly.

'Sarcasm is incredibly unhelpful. Ogron, if you are coming with me, then come with me! If you would prefer to stay here and freeze to death, then please inform me so I can adjust my plans accordingly.'

'I can't leave them…' he murmured, staring at his friends. 'You freed me; why can't you free them?'

'Because they serve no purpose!' she replied incredulously. 'They don't aid in my goals! And they only serve to weaken you! Look at yourself! You have a chance to be free from this hell, and to regain power, and yet you consider refusing it because of them!'

'Maybe caring about other people isn't a weakness,' Ogron murmured tiredly, and Aoife rolled her eyes. How tedious.

'Of course it is. And you'll come to see that, soon enough.'

Ogron shook his head, getting to his feet and meeting her gaze, his eyes hard.

'No. I'll never see that.' An idea trickled into Aoife's mind, and she smiled slowly, garnering an unnerved look from her son.

'Care to wager? Come with me. I promise you will see that everything I'm telling you is true, that they make you weak. But if I'm wrong, if you still care about them in a year, I will return here and free them myself. And if I'm right, you won't care, so they can stay as frozen statues forever.'

Ogron's eyes sparked with interest, and she knew his mind was made up. Of course, she'd never free those wizards; they weren't worth the energy. But if Ogron had failed to become the man she hoped by then, she'd just eliminate him. So she wasn't risking anything in this little bet.

'…Alright then,' he finally agreed. 'What do you want me to do?' It said a lot that he agreed before even asking what she was demanding of him. He really was desperate. She could have fun with this. And maybe…maybe she might have a worthy apprentice after all.

'Come with me.' She held out a hand, summoning a spell to teleport them out of this hell. Purple flames licked at Ogron's frosted feet as he stepped forwards, his fingers trembling with cold, fear and tentative, doomed hope as he reached out for her. For the love he'd sought his whole life. For the woman she'd never be.

His hand clasped hers, and she smiled. So easy… It was almost worth it just to enjoy how easily she could pull his strings. How quickly the puppet-master became the puppet. His power would serve her well, and his childish need for her love would be an amusing sideshow.

'Let us leave this place,' she whispered, and they vanished in a swirl of darkness. As their feet touched down on the cold stone of her lair, she smirked to see Ogron staring around at her artefacts and black magic tomes in awe.

As he turned to look at her, she slipped her hand out of his. 'It's time…' she breathed. 'Time you learn what true power is.'