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The moors were once again bright and full of life- flower petals soft and inviting on the ground and trees flourishing overhead in vibrant shades of green. It had been nearly a month since Aurora’s coronation and in that short time the moors had become just as Maleficent remembered from her youth. No longer did darkness shroud the land, no longer was her home made of cold and unforgiving stone. Instead, she’d taken up residence high in her tree-nest once more, where she could look out across the land as its humble protector rather than its domineering queen. And with the healing of the moors, Maleficent could feel her heart beginning to heal as well, hardened exterior broken away by Aurora with each year gone by until she was vulnerable once again.
Stefan’s death, it seemed, had loosened the final chain holding back her heart and Maleficent found herself looking at the world with a different kind of apprehension. There was no revenge, no ill-will or war to use as an excuse to push others away. There were no proper defenses against the lure of friendship and family and even love that loomed on the horizon. And Maleficent was no fool, she was no stranger to the art of war and protection. So when she felt her heart speed in her chest, felt the tell tale burn of blood in her cheeks, she knew what had to be done.
Her poor, loyal Diaval…
Her hand twitched as if to stroke his feathers but there was no raven at her side. No raven in the entirety of the moors, in fact, at least not her raven. Because she had sent him away on a mission for the kingdom, for Aurora, for herself. She couldn’t stand the way her traitorous heart was already falling for another man, the way it would flutter in her chest whenever Diaval would alight by her side. And it was certainly no help at all that Diaval was so… Diaval. Always loyal, always faithful, always there- helping to raise Aurora, protecting their small makeshift family, enduring all of the hardest years of Maleficent’s life without losing his unique humor and dry wit. He loved her, as both a raven and a man, and anyone with eyes could see it. He was patient, never pushing for her to return his affections, and that just made it so much worse. It gave her a terrible flicker of hope that was proving near impossible to quench.
So she had sent him away. Not permanently, no, for she was under no illusions that he would stay away (or that she really wanted him to), but for just long enough for her to settle the disquiet in her heart.
“Are you certain of this, godmother?” Aurora asked, sweet brow furrowed with concern. “There are others who could go in his place, you’ve no need to send Diaval from your side.”
Maleficent simply smiled, a minute curve to her lips. “I am quite certain. There is no one else who I would choose for this task. Diaval alone has watched over these courts for years and has done so without detection.”
“Yes, but that was when he was a raven,” Aurora protested. “In order for him to negotiate he will have to be a man.”
One delicate eyebrow arched. “Have you forgotten the gift I gave him? He can change at will: raven one moment, a man the next. It only makes him more suited to the task.” She waved her hand dismissively and Aurora’s mouth twisted to the side, momentarily stemmed. It was clear she still didn’t entirely approve but no longer had any substantial arguments to support her cause, at least none she was willing to share in present company. Maleficent turned to Diaval who was watching the proceedings with shrewd eyes, an amused smirk on his face.
“Finally decided to include me then, did you? Never mind I’m the one you’re talking about.” His words held no bite but Aurora blushed nonetheless.
“Oh Diaval, you know I’m just worried for you,” she said, twisting her hands in front of her.
“No need to worry. Your godmother’s right, it’s best that I go,” There was something in his voice that gave Maleficent pause, had her eyes flicking back to meet his. But he was already smiling again, giving Aurora a teasing bow. “After all, when the finest servant in all the kingdom is at your disposal who else would you send?”
The mood immediately shifted and Aurora let out a giggle, holding out her hand for Diaval to kiss before he stood again. He turned to Maleficent next, eyes locking for just a moment before he bowed to her as well. There was an unwelcome tightening in Maleficent’s chest and she quickly looked away, flicking her hand and saying, “Well off you go then, no sense wasting time.”
“I’ll send the rest of the company to meet you at the doors,” Aurora said, followed by Diaval’s murmured ‘thank you’. His footsteps echoed in the open hall then disappeared, Maleficent’s eyes going to him just in time to catch the sight of his retreating back, black hair and attire quickly melting into the hallway’s shadows.
That was the last time she had seen him in nearly a month and not a day went by when she didn’t think of that parting moment, the way her breath seemed to catch in her throat and a slow ache spread through her breast as soon as he’d disappeared from sight. She missed him, there was no denying it. And she was no closer to finding her answer than when she’d first sent him on his task, no closer to protecting her already broken heart when he could return any day to steal the final pieces.
Gliding along the treetops she gave an experimental flap of her wings, then shuddered at the idea of ever being without them again. She couldn’t. And that meant she couldn’t risk losing so much of herself when the prize was only heartache and primal satisfaction. She’d sworn love from her life after Stefan and she intended to keep that vow.
Birds flew beside her like wispy autumn leaves, pushed and pulled in the eddies of her wings, throwing shadows across the bottom of the moors like so many miniature versions of her own. But not one of them could speak to her, not one of them could look at her and say a thousand things in the single tilt of its head, in the ornery ruffling of its feathers. And even with all of the creatures of the moors, great and small, reclusive and playful, not a one could replace the companionship she had come to know with Diaval at her side. But she would learn.
Because when Diaval returned Maleficent would free him from his bond, send him back out into the world to do as he pleased. He had been slowly let out on a longer and longer tether as the years went by but now Maleficent would have to sever it entirely. Knowing the idiot, he’d still choose to stay in the moors, but Maleficent held a small hope that she could convince him to move to the castle- as official ambassador between the two lands.
She herself was set to return to the castle in six days time- to meet with Aurora and await Diaval’s arrival so that they could all three discuss what he and the rest of the party had found. So when the borderguard told her of a horseman’s arrival she flew quickly to the edge of the moor to meet him, worry mounting with every flap of her wings. It was Prince Philip waiting and the look on his face did nothing to quell Maleficent’s growing fear.
“Well, what is it then? What’s happened?”
“It’s Diaval, my lady,” the boy said. Maleficent immediately felt her blood run cold. “King Andrew found out who he was, captured him on grounds of being a demon. The other men couldn’t get to him in time, he’s badly hurt. They uh- They were trying to get information from him, it seems.”
“It seems?” She asked, voice gone steely. “What do you mean, ‘it seems’? Has Diaval no voice of his own to explain?”
“No, my lady,” The poor prince shook his head, eyes wide as his horse acted up nervously beneath him. “He’s still unconscious, we’ve only our own eyes with which to make assumptions. The nurses don’t know what to make of him as it is. They say he shouldn’t have survived the journey.”
A horrible dread began creeping through Maleficent’s veins. Because if the boy was correct, if the words he spoke were true...then Diaval was lying somewhere in the castle awaiting death, kept alive by the sliver of magic she had bestowed him to facilitate his changes. A sliver of magic that had to be quickly running out.
Her wings spread and beat the air, sending her up in a flurry of wind and dust that had Philip’s horse rearing its head again, letting out a whinny as Philip urged it to turn around and race back towards the castle. But the sound of pounding hooves followed her for only a few minutes more, soon lost in the whip of the wind through her wings as she pushed herself through the sky, muscles aching and lungs burning by the time she landed harshly at the castle gates. The guards posted gave way as soon as they saw her, letting her rush into the castle halls without losing a moment of time. She had just entered the central court when she heard footsteps coming from an adjoining hall.
“Godmother!” Aurora hurtled across the stone and into Maleficent’s arms, crashing into her quickly before pulling back again. Her face was pale and there were dark circles beneath her eyes from lack of sleep, hair loose and tangled about her shoulders, clothes thrown on in disarray. “Oh godmother, come quickly! You must save him, please!”
That Aurora had called for Diaval’s saving and not his healing was yet another reason for alarm, and she said nothing as Aurora began pulling her forward past more somber faced guards. Thankfully, Diaval wasn’t kept too deep in the castle and they made through the winding hallways and twisting stairs in less than ten minutes time, nearly close to five with the quickness of their steps. Maleficent flung open the doors with an easy flick of her wrist and quickly strode past the gaggle of nurses and maids in order to see Diaval for herself.
Aurora clung to her side with another broken plea to save him, but Maleficent heard her through a fog, so focused as she was on the creature in bed before her. Skin dirty with blood and sweat, body torn, face anguished- there was no mistaking that Philip’s words had been true. A chill crept into Maleficent’s very bones as she reached out to touch Diaval’s chest, traced careful fingers over the broken open scars arching from ribs to breastbone. She reached out with her magic as well and felt the wounds in him that could not be seen, the bleeding in the stomach, the bruising beneath the skin, the cracks in bone and tears in delicate tissues.
“How long has he been like this?” She asked, voice deathly calm in the silence.
“He was brought in just last night,” Aurora whispered back. “They said the journey here took nearly three days, afraid as they were too jostle him too badly.”
Three days in travel and a night of languish, more than enough time for infection and many other manners of sickness to set in. She wiped some of the grime from his cheek and looked closer at the pallor of his skin, the heat of it. Most definitely sick. And the state of his wounds quickly gave the reason why. The bandages were still dirty with blood and seepage, the wounds themselves still producing an unhealthy pus.
“Can you save him, godmother? Oh please tell me you can, I don’t know what we’d do without him.”
Aurora already had fresh tears gathered in her eyes so Maleficent made sure to speak carefully as she explained, “He will not die, not quite yet. There’s too much of my magic within him to disappear so quickly. However, I cannot heal him as you wish I could. If I knit his wounds now, I will seal the sickness inside. I will do what I can, but he must still do his part.”
Wiping her eyes with a hand, Aurora nodded and sniffled quietly. “And we will help, won’t we?”
“Yes, beastie, we will help.” She turned back to Diaval and stroked a few fingers through his hair. “The vain creature wouldn’t want to die this filthy anyway.”
And so began the first of many nights Maleficent spent at Diaval’s bedside. During the day she would sleep and leave him to the care of the nurses and Aurora’s watchful eye, herself safely out of sight in one of the castle’s many rooms, but when the moon rose and the rest of the kingdom went to bed Maleficent was left to tend to Diaval alone. Aurora would often stay up for awhile or awake early enough to bid her good day, even Prince Philip would sometimes join the company of the twilight hours, but the darkest, quietest hours of the night were always hers and hers alone. Spent in solemn watch, there was never much for her to do. His body was fighting the infection, her magic was keeping him alive and strong enough to do it. It was a matter of waiting and urging him to open his eyes with each passing day.
Because without his incessant chatter, without the buzz of the moors or the duties of assisting Aurora, there wasn’t much else for Maleficent to do but sit and think about all that her life had held for her. The purity and innocence of her youth, the strength and confidence of her younger years, and the betrayal and heartbreak that had governed her for so long, the bitterness that still held sway on her heart. Stefan was a cruel and selfish man, that much she knew; his love for her was nothing but childhood fantasy, a weak and brittle thing easily corrupted by his greed and lust for power. His love was a selfish one. And his actions had hardened her heart against all humans for so many years- until Aurora. And now, perhaps, another.
Diaval’s hand was warm and rough against the pads of her fingers, unresponsive as she curled her palm over the top of his own. That same uncomfortable warmth travelled up her spine and pooled in her cheeks but for once she didn’t try to push it away. Because Diaval wasn’t Stefan. Diaval’s love was selfless and unyielding, had weathered years of hardship and unrequited affections. He had stood silently to the side, loving her from afar because he knew she wasn’t ready to accept him into her heart. And Maleficent had willingly turned a blind eye. She had taken his presence and his company for granted.
He was an idiotic, vain, and ceaselessly annoying bird- but he was hers. She had grown accustomed to his cackling laughter and sarcastic remarks, the mischievous glint in his eyes and his endless chatter. She had grown accustomed to his constant presence and unfailing loyalty, the unique way he viewed the world. So consumed by revenge, she had let a second chance at love nearly slip through her grasp.
She tightened her fingers on Diaval’s hand and shook it slightly. “You will wake up,” she told him, soft but stern. “You will wake up and I will turn you into a mealy worm for all the trouble you’ve put us through.”
There was no response to her command, not even a twitch of his fingers, and Maleficent let out a sigh before dropping his hand and standing up to stare out the window, looking out over the castle walls to the kingdom beyond. Nearly a week now and he was still to open his eyes. It was far longer than even she had estimated. His wounds were still sick, his fever unbroken, and her magic still carrying a heavy burden within his veins.
Sunlight once again broke over the horizon and with it came a host of nurses and a sleepy looking Aurora. They set to work changing bandages and poultices and wraps and were finishing tucking him back beneath the covers when Prince Philip slipped into the room. If he was surprised to see Maleficent still lurking in the corner he did a good job of hiding it, merely giving her a polite bow of his head before addressing the Queen who he’d come to see.
“Aurora, the advisors ask that you speak with them. They say it has already been too long a time for a matter like this to sit unacknowledged.”
“And how would they have me acknowledge it?” Aurora said back. “There has already been too much war in this kingdom, I will not have another.”
“I understand, but...”
“But they need to hear that from their Queen,” Maleficent finished. “You are young and they know Diaval was close to you. They must be hoping to use this opportunity to their advantage, as an excuse for thievery in the name of justice. It is your duty to ensure that doesn’t happen.”
Aurora gently touched Diaval’s cheek before standing and lifting her chin in the same manner Maleficent knew she herself often did. “Very well,” she said, turning to Philip. “Tell them I’ll meet with them over supper, I don’t care to do it now. But before you go, I would like to talk to you and godmother about what should be done. Certainly not a war, but something. They hurt an ambassador, we must have some kind of response.”
“Yes,” Philip agreed. “But until we know for certain what happened it would be ill-advised to attempt any kind of negotiation. If you want to avoid war, we must not challenge them on false grounds.”
Maleficent took Aurora’s place at Diaval’s side and sat stiffly on the edge of the bed, chin raised as she listened to the discussion around her. The bed creaked and jostled as she adjusted her wings but the two young royals paid the distraction no mind.
“False grounds? Diaval is injured and had to be taken from their castle guard, surely that must be grounds enough.”
Philip shook his head. “Not if they claim they had due cause, believing him some sort of demon.”
“A demon,” Aurora scoffed. “At the very least they should have consulted the rest of our party before resorting to such violent measures. It’s a show of mistrust for our kingdom, is it not?”
“Not for your kingdom of men, Aurora,” Maleficent said. “But for the moors. Your kind has learned to fear magical creatures and Diaval is one. And, many of the nobility and royals know he’s served at my side for years.” Her hand lifted and smoothed through Diaval’s hair, the same calming gesture she’d become accustomed to when he was in his raven form, fingers pulling gently through the strands instead of stark black feathers. “I’m afraid my reputation precedes you.”
“Godmother…” Aurora started, voice soft and eyes kind before widening in shock just a moment later. Maleficent looked down to see what had her goddaughter gaping like a fish and nearly felt her mouth drop open in surprise as well.
Diaval’s eyes were open- black centers flicking blearily back and forth while the rest of his body started to shift beneath the covers. A silence had fallen over the room as each breath was held to see if the man before them was truly awake. Maleficent’s hand had stilled in her surprise but resumed its task when Diaval mindlessly pushed into the touch, disgruntled sound escaping from his lips before his eyes pinched shut in pain. It was another moment before he cracked them open again and parted his lips. “Mistress?” His eyes traveled from her arm up to her face, not quite able to focus once he got there but apparently recognizing enough to be sure it was her. “I didn’t tell them anything,” he said, words slurred and garbled nearly to the point of incoherency. “You’re safe, you’re- they don’t know anything. I wouldn’t- I didn’t tell them. They wanted to hurt you and Aurora-” He become more and more agitated as he spoke and Maleficent shushed him when she could take no more.
“Hush, you silly bird,” she said. “I know you didn’t tell them anything, you’re too loyal for your own good.” She started petting his hair again, smoothing it off his forehead and behind his ears. “Now sleep and stop your prattling.”
His eyes fluttered a few more times before falling shut, head falling into the curve of Maleficent’s hand and chest rising shakily before a gentle exhale of ‘mistress’ passed his lips. Something in her heart cracked right then, cold exterior making way for a rush of burning rage. How dare another impudent king try to hurt what was hers to protect?
She stood sharply, cloak fluttering around her as she turned and marched into the corridor, green magic crackling at her fingertips. How dare they? Were they so cowardly, so honorless, that they would attack a servant to get to its master?
Maleficent felt her heart once again harden towards the likes of men, but she no longer counted Diaval amongst their ranks. It was men mad with power, men delusioned into thinking they were more than what they were- that they deserved more than what they’d been given. Well she would put an end to it, she would show them just what it meant to cross the fair folk of the moors, to cross her, to put in danger those who she lov-
Her lips parted in a silent gasp and she halted in the middle of the hall, wings taunt at her back and rustling anxiously at the sudden realization that she was truly gone, that her heart was truly lost. Diaval held it in his battered talons, in his bloodied hands, in all that he was and that Maleficent had come to know.
The world reeled around her for one dizzying moment, like she’d gotten caught and turned and tumbled in a strong air current high up above the clouds.
Suddenly, Aurora was at her side, “Godmother?” She asked, eyes wide and concerned, a knowing glimmer at their edges that had Maleficent taking pause.
She lifted one lofty eyebrow.
Aurora blew out a breath, some part of her apparently relieved but she still didn’t release Maleficent’s eyes- or her cloak. “Godmother, you must come back to the room. You cannot leave him, not now.”
“And why not?”
“Because he’ll need you when he wakes again,” she answered, voice suddenly sounding wise beyond her years as she took a step back and added. “And because he is not my father.”
Maleficent was frozen, face a perfect mask of bland impassivity but mind once again reeling behind gold eyes. Her wings twitched behind her; her hands trembled slightly where she had them wrapped in her cloak. “I see,” was all she managed to produce.
But Aurora beamed nonetheless, apparently seeing a shift in Maleficent that Maleficent couldn’t sense herself. “Oh godmother, I’m so glad you’ve finally figured it out. I was beginning to wonder how long it would take. Poor Diaval, such a patient man.”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Maleficent intoned, walking past Aurora and heading back towards Diaval’s room. She kept her head high and her eyes ahead. But Aurora kept up with her easily, dainty feet bouncing on the stone and golden ringlets bouncing on her shoulders.
“And even though what I said was true and Diaval isn’t my father by birth... not that filthy, evil man who stole your wings… he’s still my godfather. And you’re my godmother. So it only makes sense.” She looked up at Maleficent expectantly but saw she was still being ‘ignored’ so she strode ahead and grinned mischievously instead, innocence in her voice but not in her smile as she said, “You know, for the longest time I thought you two were already married.”
Maleficent could keep her facade up no longer at that. “What?”
Aurora just smiled sweetly. “Come, Godmother. We must return to Diaval and Prince Philip, there’s still so much we have to do.”
And it turned out that there was quite a lot of strategy and politics to discuss, plans to negotiate, possibilities to consider. Prince Philip and Aurora spoke quietly in a corner while Maleficent stayed at Diaval’s bedside, looking over him with shrewd and calculating eyes as she kept one ear on the young royals and another on the raven’s steady breaths. By the time Aurora left for her meeting with the advisors, Maleficent was still in a state of shock, fingers stroking through Diaval’s hair and wondering when she’d become as comfortable with his man-form as she was with his small and voiceless raven body. It seemed there were many aspects of herself that had changed without her noticing- slowly and steadily healed with passing time.
~~
When the sun rose a week later Diaval rose with it, black eyes fully open and bright. Most of his wounds were already healed, infections slowly clearing up and Maleficent closing the wounds before they could become sick again. Now there were only a few left to heal and Maleficent had hope that they’d be taken care of in a day or two. Unfortunately, the delayed healing meant Diaval was sure to have a new set of scars to add to his collection. He was unlikely to care, seeing most of them as badges of honor or souvenirs from some grand adventure, but Maleficent would often find her eyes caught on them in the waning hours, wondering how many were acquired in her service.
“Mistress,” a low voice said, scratchy from disuse but recognizable all the same. Her eyes snapped up and he smiled at her, a closed lipped and crooked thing. “Good morning?”
“Good morning indeed,” she straightened slightly and looked down at him with pursed lips. “You’ve slept for nearly a month so I do hope you’re well rested.”
His face faltered a bit at that but he pushed a smile back onto his lips. “Oh? I bet you loved the quiet, none of my prattling and you didn’t have to use a stitch of magic to steal my tongue.”
“Well, there was a bit of magic involved. You woke up once and wouldn’t stop fidgeting.” He gave her a look and she lifted an imperious brow. “Unless you’d rather I let you rip open your wounds?”
The words seemed to remind Diaval of his predicament. He lifted the sheet away from his chest and looked down at his body, ran fingers across new scars, pink ridges on pale white skin. “It seems there was more than a bit of magic involved.” He looked up at her and caught her eye. “Thank you, mistress. I am once again in your debt.”
“You would not have been hurt if had I not sent you away. There is no debt for you to repay. The life I saved all those years ago was already reclaimed when you saved me from Stefan. You are no longer indebted to anyone, Diaval, especially not me.” She stood and smoothed her cloak, head held high and horns casting a shadow against the wall. Inside her chest her heart was beating painfully, each squeeze a reminder of what she was giving away.
But Diaval needed to heal and grow in his life, not remain entangled in Maleficent’s. She had burned with hatred towards the selfishness of man for so many years she was blind to the selfishness that formed in her own. She kept Diaval by her side and so stole from him more than she could possibly imagine. She’d thought long and hard about this decision, both at the Moors and here within the castle. Truthfully, she’d known for quite some time that Diaval was due his freedom, but since he’d never minded being in her service she’d never thought to offer him release. But if what was in her heart was true, if she cared for Diaval as more than just her servant, then she had no right to keep him as her own.
“Mistress,” Diaval murmured, eyes wide as he sat up in bed. His arms were shaking and his skin was still flushed with sweat. But he made himself turn, legs off the side of the bed and feet on the floor.
Maleficent stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, cool fingers moving up to touch the side of his neck. “I am not your mistress, Diaval.”
“You will always be my mistress,” he answered, face so earnest and voice so sure that for a moment Maleficent was stunned into silence. “I will always be yours, so please don’t send me away because you think it’s what I want. Because all I’ve ever wanted was to stay by your side.”
“I know that, Diaval.” Maleficent said. “But I cannot pretend to be ignorant any longer. I have taken too much from you to possibly ask for anything more.”
Diaval crossed his arms and stared up at her stubbornly. “Trying to get rid of me again, are you? Always trying to leave me behind, giving excuses and pretending you don’t need me.”
“I’m not trying to get rid of you, you stupid bird. I’m trying to help you!” Her temper flared and her eyes flashed as she stepped away but Diaval didn’t even flinch. “What would you have me do, then? Keep you by my side as I have for these seventeen years, a faithful servant?” It was a preposterous question, redundant and honestly said just to make him see the truth, because there was no possibility he would-
“Yes.”
Maleficent blinked and looked down to stare at him more closely. “Excuse me?”
“Yes, I want you to keep me. I thought that was obvious.”
She saw the look in his eyes, the love and desire to protect and care for her. It was a stupid notion, since she could kill anyone who dared threaten her long before Diaval could attempt to peck at their eyes. But it was also a feeling that she recognized from her own heart, sprung up from the cracks like flowers on a craggy hillside. “I cannot keep you properly, Diaval. It would not be fair to ask you to stay as a servant.”
“You’re not asking. And if my debt’s repaid I don’t need to listen to you anymore, and really let’s be honest I haven’t listened to you for a few years anyway, so even if you did ask I could just say no. But I want you to want me to stay. Or at the very least not want me to go.”
Maleficent sighed and rubbed at the bridge of her nose. This conversation was becoming very tiresome indeed, so roundabout and irksome that she was tempted to turn Diaval back into a raven and leave him trapped beneath the sheets while she escaped out the window.
“Mistress, this does not have to be so difficult. Listen to your heart, what does it tell you?”
“It tells me you’re as stubborn as a mule. Maybe I should turn you into one.”
Diaval smirked. “Maybe one day. I’ll bite off a piece of your cloak if you do.”
Atmosphere momentarily lifted and mind cleared, Maleficent took a moment to stare out the window, contemplating what she truly wanted- regardless of guilt or vengeance or a broken heart. Silence sat between them and it was in that uncomfortable stillness that she found her answer.
“The moors are too quiet without you,” she said. “And none of the other birds keep up with me quite as well.” She turned back to him and stroked her fingers gently through his hair, whispering as his eyes fell shut. “What do you want, Diaval? Ask and I’ll give it to you.”
“Make me yours, mistress. Keep me.” His hands reached out to grab her cloak and his eyes fluttered open, staring up at her wide and pleading. “Claim me so that you know I will never leave, so that everyone knows that to touch me is to touch what belongs to the protector of the moors.”
Maleficent’s fingers tightened in his hair. “Diaval…”
“Please,” he asked again. His voice sure but at the same time soft, as if she was the one who needed reassurance. But she wanted this, wanted Diaval, and if he wanted this too then there was nothing but her scared and trembling heart that stood between them.
With a flicker of gold and a press of blood red lips against his neck, Diaval shuddered against her, hands gripping her cloak tighter before she pulled away and smoothed the hair from his forehead. “That is what I can offer you, pretty bird. I hope it suits your tastes.”
His brow scrunched in confusion for just a moment before he reached up and touched the side of his neck, eyes widening when he felt new ridges beneath his fingers. There was a mirror on the far side of the room and he stood to go to it, legs nearly buckling beneath him after the first couple steps but Maleficent put an arm around his waist to steady him, neither speaking until they were stood in front of the mirror, Diaval staring at the new mark with a reverent expression. It was the same color gold as her eyes and shone in the light, a crown of thorns framed by two imposing horns, a small raven flying in the crown’s center. Maleficent touched it with the pad of her finger as well.
“Well?” she asked.
“It’s beautiful,” Diaval murmured. “Thank you, mistress.”
“I do remember your fondness for shiny things,” she smiled, stepping back from the mirror and taking him with her, leading him back to the bed and waiting for him to sit back before she gave a flick of her fingers and pulled up the covers. “Now rest while I fetch the beasty. I suspect she’ll have plenty of questions for you and that your shoulder will be wet with tears by the time she’s through.”
Diaval sighed and settled back against the creaky bed, “I’ll spare her what detail I can. And try to distract her with the new bauble you’ve placed on my neck.”
“See that you do,” Maleficent said, already halfway to the door. The full story would come later, when he’d rested and healed and it was just the two of them back in the comfort of the moors, his voice rough and catching as he told of his time in their dungeon- with their tools and methods and the ceaseless barking of dogs. And Maleficent would cradle him in her wings, offer security in the strength she held, in the warmth of her chest as Diaval curled up beside her to sleep.
Aurora would be kept from the true horrors that befell her godfather in that terrible, terrible place.
---
“Must you leave so soon?” Aurora asked, pout on her pretty face that Maleficent tried hard to ignore. “Diaval has just woken up yesterday and we’ve barely had time to talk.”
“Diaval needs to return to the moors to heal and rest,” Maleficent said easily. After all, the castle was no place for a magical creature. The stone walls and enclosed spaces, the winding hallways and shuttered windows. They were both better off in the moors where he could properly start to mend the worst of his wounds, including the ones even Maleficent couldn’t touch- the wounds of his mind.
Diaval inclined his head and took a step back to stand at Maleficent’s side. “I’m afraid I have to agree with your godmother, little one. But we’ll be back before you know it and you can always come visit us as well.”
“I know,” Aurora said. She watched them both for a moment before sighing, her pout slowly turning into a small, mischievous smile. “Although I might wait for awhile before I come calling.” She took a step forward and kissed Diaval on the cheek, running her fingers across the mark on his neck as she drew back. “It truly is beautiful, Diaval.”
She’d touched it whenever she could ever since it had been revealed to her. And even though it was a token truly meant for Diaval and to offer Maleficent peace of mind, it also served as a distraction for Aurora as well. Tears were shed, of course they were, but not nearly as many as there would’ve been had Aurora insisted on hearing the entire story. Instead, her eyes had caught on the golden shining against Diaval’s neck and they had lit up like a raven’s, causing Diaval to laugh despite the tightness in his chest. Now, he smiled back at her easily, slight color to his cheeks as she moved on to bid her godmother goodbye.
Then, with a flourish of wings and a swirl of gold, both he and Maleficent began their journey from the castle to the moors. Diaval was still weak from healing and off balance from being in his human form for so long, but Maleficent never let him fall too far behind her. Instead she would spread her wings and coast along the air currents, letting them carrying her the same way Diaval was letting them bear his weight. In this journey there was no playful swooping or chasing, no spinning around one another and laughing as light glinted off the feathers of their wings. But that didn’t make Maleficent any less grateful for the man at her side.
When they landed in the moors Maleficent wasted no time in striding to her long abandoned nest, straightening it out with a flick of her wrist and a pinch of magic, making sure everything was in place and every twig was properly woven in with the rest before turning to Diaval and gesturing for him to follow her up. They had moved back to the tree Maleficent had called home as a child shortly after Aurora was crowned, had left those dark and crumbling castle walls in favor of a more open home. The night sky shone above them and Maleficent sank easily into bed, lifting a hand for Diaval to alight upon before tucking him in beside her, safe and sound in the crook of her neck. He cawed softly and fluffed his feathers, hunkering down easily and pushing into the warmth of Maleficent’s skin. The night was clear and pure, the stars twinkling down at them from overhead, and Maleficent was so happy to be home- and to have brought Diaval home as well.
---
When she woke the sun was just kissing the horizon, a spread of purple and gold and orange serving as a backdrop to the vibrant greens of the moors. Diaval was still asleep beside her so she took a moment to stroke gentle fingers down the back of his head and between his wings, petting him softly until she deemed him out of it enough for her to leave him for a few minutes while she gathered food. She knew from their time at the castle that Diaval was prone to nightmares, knew firsthand how a traumatic event could haunt dreams and waking thought for years on end. But he had slept almost entirely through the night, waking only once was a strangled caw before she soothed him back to sleep.
But now the sun was rising and it was time to wake, so she quickly set about getting some berries and fruits and nuts before placing them all on a stump nearby to their tree. “Diaval,” she called, “Aren’t you up yet, you lazy thing?”
A golden glow rose from the nest followed by two pale arms and then a ruffled head of midnight hair. He looked down at her blearily and rubbed at his eyes. “I am now. You should try being a rooster, it might suit you.”
She flicked her finger at him and sent a blueberry straight between his eyes, a splat of purple that he wiped away and licked from his fingers. Then he was climbing down, walking up beside her and eyeing what she had laid out on the stump. “What’s all this then?”
“It’s breakfast,” she answered, standing and staring down at him with one eyebrow lifted.
“Ah,” he crouched down and stared at the food, then looked back up at her again. “Are you eating, too?”
“No, this is for you.”
He swallowed thickly at that and picked up another blueberry, holding it carefully between his fingers before popping it in his mouth. A few more pieces of food followed before he stopped, looked up at her with his dark eyes to pick apart every minute expression on her face.
“Do you know what this means, mistress?”
“I am familiar with the significance of providing food to a raven, if that’s what you are worried about.” She knew that it was a mating ritual, part of the complicated pattern of courtship that Diaval had displayed with her for years. Many of the other aspects she had done quite without thinking- displays of intelligence and aerial feats. But providing food was something she’d never returned. Diaval fed himself, occasionally brought food to Maleficent when she felt the need to eat, and that was that. But now Diaval had her mark on his neck and her food on his table and Maleficent was slightly alarmed that his arms were shaking and his head was bent down rather than looking up at her with a smile on his face.
Finally, after an agonizing minute of silence he looked up at her. “Mistress,” he said. “You are an enigma wrapped in a riddle and submerged in a mystery. But I love you for it. Never is there a dull day in your company.”
A small smirk curved her lips and she turned away to hide it, walking back to the tree and feeling the rough bark with the tips of her fingers to ground herself, imagine the roots like a spiderweb beneath her feet. “Is that so?” she finally asked, turning to face him only to find that he’d stood up and come closer as well, less than an arm’s length away. Her hand dragged slowly against bark, rough texture against smooth skin, before she lifted it away and held it out to Diaval, a gesture that he stepped into easily. Her palm curved around the dry heat of his neck and the golden ridges of her mark there and she let out a sigh, felt him shiver at the touch.
Maleficent rubbed over his pulse point with her thumb and stared straight into wide, black eyes, let the shimmering gold of her own speak for her. The sun was rising higher and its warmth tickled the back of her neck, drenched the both of them in its blinding light, but Maleficent knew that it was the man before her that had truly melted her hardened heart. She had fulfilled his promise and marked him as her own, but now she made a vow to herself to protect him as fiercely as she protected the moors, to care for him as completely as she cared for Aurora, and to remain as loyal to him as he had been to her for so many years.
Because no matter what the mark on Diaval’s neck stood for, Maleficent knew he was the one who owned the last pieces of her heart. She would do anything to never see him so broken again, would sacrifice whatever it took to keep him smirking and prattling on at her side for many years to come.
---
Nearly a month had passed since she and Diaval had returned to the moors, a time spent healing in each others company, but now it was time for them to leave again, time to find closure and peace amidst a thinly veiled offer of diplomacy. It was a plan Maleficent had come up with and Aurora and Prince Philip had eventually agreed upon. There would be no war, just a fair bit of chastising and intimidation.
She had told Diaval of the plan, of course, and was only mildly surprised when he insisted he come along as well (this was, after all, the man who’d steadfastly followed her into the deathtrap of Stefan’s castle with only an eyeroll and his usual teasing remarks), but that didn’t mean she wasn’t worried. Because as brave and stubborn as Diaval had a tendency to be, Maleficent knew returning to the very castle at which he had been so abused would prove difficult. But he had insisted, she had found no true reason to disagree, and so they were on their way, flying through the headwinds and keeping up above the clouds to avoid any unwanted attention from the farmers below.
Diaval kept up with her easily and when they arrived at the castle he shifted form and was at her side in an instant, standing tall and proud and every inch the man Maleficent knew him to be. Guards met them at the gates and they were quickly escorted to a room with a long table at its center. The space was obviously meant for meeting with large groups and Maleficent couldn’t help but chuckle at the king’s assumption that Queen Aurora and her advisors would come to address this issue themselves. Impudence, arrogance, overconfidence. All these she would expect from such a king.
The door swung open just minutes later, the great man himself storming through the entryway. “What is the meaning of this?” he asked, voice booming in the stone space.
Maleficent turned to look at him slowly, taking her time to respond before answering in a perfectly cool voice. “I’m not sure I know what you mean, you majesty.” Her lips curled up on the last word but she otherwise kept her composure, making the man splutter before he spluttered on.
“You- Why have you come to darken our door, you devil! I was expecting Princess Aurora, not-”
“Queen Aurora,” Diaval smoothly cut in, stepping out from Maleficent’s shadow.
“Demon!” The king yelled, pointing at Diaval with an ashen face.
Diaval stood quietly, smirking, and Maleficent had to fight to keep her face and voice impassive. “He is no demon and I am no devil. We were sent by Queen Aurora to give you a message regarding what was done to the last party that was sent her to negotiate. Her majesty and her counsel were most displeased.”
“On what grounds?” The king fired back, now red in the face. “She was the one who sent a demon into our midst, we were protecting ourselves. He could’ve been a spy, or a curse sent to weaken our lands.”
“You know very well he is no demon,” Maleficent strode back to the door and with a flick of her wrist sent the rug at its entrance skittering to the side. An intricate pentagram sat beneath. “If this was meant to capture us, it failed. If it was not, it still serves to prove we are not creatures of hell. We are of the moors, part of Queen Aurora’s kingdom and thus under her protection. You have no right to try to capture or interrogate any member of a diplomatic party, no matter what superstitions you hold.”
“And what then? What does the Queen plan to do?” The king’s advisors shuffled nervously at his words and Maleficent made sure to give each of them a steely look as she walked slowly back to the center of the room. Her shoes clicked on the stone and echoed with each step until she finally came to a stop between Diaval and the red faced ruler.
“Queen Aurora does not wish a war,” Many of king’s advisors relaxed at that but Maleficent was quick to continue. “But she believes that a matter as serious as this cannot be left alone. She sent me to explain the situation and the affront you’ve acted upon her kingdom. And, she demands you let me into your dungeons to destroy the table upon which you tortured one of her most trusted advisors.”
At that the king’s eyes got somehow larger, flicking over to Diaval before returning to her. “You-!” he began to say, but was quickly cut off by the whispering of his advisors. “...must accept…” “...the only way to stop a war…” “...can’t afford…”
“Well?” she asked, one eyebrow lifted and Diaval a dark sentinel at her side.
“We accept your Queen’s conditions,” he said, looking like he’d just bitten off a mouthful of something entirely unpleasant.
Maleficent smiled. “Then please lead the way, we would look to be on our way again before nightfall.”
Her request sent another rush of murmuring from the room. It was unheard of for guests to leave so late in the day with such a long journey ahead. It proved the kingdoms were still on uncertain terms and that Maleficent and Diaval would rather risk the dangers of traveling at night than stay any longer in the care of the king. It was a blow to the reputation of the king and neighboring kingdoms were sure to find out.
From then on it was silent as they were lead down to the castle dungeon, just the echoing of their footsteps and the jangle of swords and belts and armor as they walked through tight corridors and even tighter, winding stairs. Finally, a thick wooden door stood before them and it was pulled open with a grunt by a couple of guards, releasing a rush of cold, moist air that smelled strongly of iron and blood. Maleficent suppressed a shiver and walked into the dank space, eyes alert for any tricks but also constantly tracking Diaval at her side. He was still walking beside her, back just as straight and chin held just as high, but she knew somewhere inside his head he was suffering. She would have to make this quick.
They finally reached the table and she gestured for everyone to stop when they were still greater than an arm’s length away. She stared down the terrible thing, the bloodstains on its surface, the mocking iron loops bolted to its frame. With a sharp motion of her hand she obliterated a section of the stone beneath the table, sending up a cloud of rubble and dust that had the guards coughing and the king and his advisors shouting in surprise and alarm. But before they could move to stop her she lifted both hands and let magic flow through her fingertips, grasping hold of the life deep within the earth and pulling it upwards, heaving it to the surface as a solid force and holding back the laughter that threatened to bubble from her lips as a large oak took rose from the ground and quickly overtook that horrid device, breaking down the center before absorbing it into its own form, continuing to rise further and further into the air until it nearly filled the entire room with its leafy branches and knotty roots. Thorns came next, thick vines that wrapped around the tree to keep it safe, sprawled across the ground and hung from branches just waiting to impale anyone who dared come to close. Then, with a final flourish, she infused a sliver of her magic into the heart of the tree and the earth below it, so that the tree and its protector would never die despite the darkness of the dungeon room.
Her work done she turned and caught Diaval’s eye, walking out of the now reclaimed space with purpose in her steps and the hint of a smirk on her lips. It wasn’t until they had nearly reached the castle foyer that the king and his men caught up with them, panting and red faced and blustering on incoherently. Maleficent raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.
“You- You said just the table!”
“And the tree rose underneath the table, I can assure you, your other things were left untouched.” And that had been, they were just not quite as easily accessible as they once had been.
The king growled but his advisors quickly gathered around him and whispered amongst themselves. This time, Maleficent decided not to wait through their dithering.
“I believe the message has been aptly received,” she called over their murmuring. They turned to look at her and she held their stares, debating with herself for only a moment before reaching out her hand. Diaval stepped closer, unflinching as her palm curved around his neck and her fingers moved easily over the mark there. “But hear this,” she began, “You haven’t just insulted the Queen, you have angered the Protector of the moors.” Her wings flared out behind her and she felt Diaval’s pulse quicken beneath her hand. “This man is mine. He is under my protection. Should you touch him again- Queen Aurora will not be able to control my actions or protect you from your fate.”
With that she turned and brought Diaval with her, leading them both through the rest of the castle until they finally set foot outside the castle gates. They walked until they were out of earshot of the guards and then she turned to Diaval, took him in with scrutinizing eyes before putting her hand on the side of his face and drawing him closer, feeling the tremble in his limbs as the past few hours finally took hold.
“Diaval,” she said, calling his eyes to her, lifting a hand so the flicker of gold on her fingertips would catch his gaze. He nodded slightly and she felt the movement against her other hand as she whispered, “Into a raven,” and the feeling of smooth skin quickly changed into the ruffle of feathers against her palm. She held him carefully in her hand then pressed him against her chest, taking off with one powerful push of her wings before flying up past the clouds and into the strong winds that would carry them home, Diaval resting safely in the crook of her arm.
Maleficent smiled, wind rushing against her face and fading sunlight casting shadows on the ground below, the last trickle of warmth against her skin.
She had called on him to be her wings, but now- now she could be his.