Maleficent clung to the shadows of the room in which they had laid her Beastie to rest. Her heart still raced from her desperate flight across the land to reach the girl in time. And not just from that. Although she was loathe to admit it, even in the sanctuary of her private thoughts, Maleficent was afraid. She was afraid of being in this stone construct of men, of the iron that featured so heavily in its decorating; but most of all she was afraid for the Beastie. True love did not exist. Her Beastie would sleep forever.

"Mistress? Are you… Are you crying?" Diaval, a deeper shadow at her side, whispered.

Maleficent dashed a hand across her cheeks in irritation. "Of course I'm not, you foolish bird," she hissed back at him.

She concentrated on watching those ridiculous faeries fluttering around the Beastie's bed like a brood of nervous hens. And they were just as effectual. It was all their fault. What were they thinking? Bringing the girl back before her birthday. They could never be counted on to get anything right. But no, Maleficent thought, giving a brisk shake of her head, when it all came down to it, it was her fault. She was the one who had allowed herself to become blinded by rage and hatred. She was the one who had brought that fateful curse down on an innocent child's head.

A noise at the door had Flittle, Knotgrass and Thistletwit rushing over, falling over themselves in an effort to look out into the corridor without giving away their position.

"Phillip, it's Prince Phillip!" Flittle exclaimed.

"Our only hope…" Diaval murmured in Maleficent's ear. Something tightened uncomfortably in her chest.

Within moments, the faeries were dragging Prince Phillip into the room, leading him over to the bed in which her Beastie slept. She studied the boy. Good-looking, she supposed, if you liked your men as groomed as a maiden and with good-natured but vacant eyes. She felt an involuntary sneer twist her lips. This was the milksop who was supposed to rescue the princess?

"But it doesn't seem right," the boy was protesting as the faeries cajoled him into kissing the cursed princess.

Eventually, he was persuaded to lean forwards. From where she stood, Maleficent saw his lips press against the Beastie's in a chaste, bloodless kiss. She was aware of herself and Diaval leaning forwards, of a collective breath being held. She studied to boy's screwed up eyes and puckered lips and a sudden madness took hold of her.

"That's not how you kiss a princess, you fool!" She exclaimed, striding from the shadows. The faeries and the prince fell back from her with gasps of fear and outrage. "This is how you kiss a princess!"

So saying, she took the Beastie's sweet face between her hands, leaning in towards her. She closed her eyes as her lips touched the princess's. Softly at first, the lightest of brushes, then deepening into something charged with a primal hunger she hadn't realised she felt until that moment. She was surprised to find her tongue slipping into the blonde's mouth, gently exploring all it had to offer. She was even more surprised to find that same tongue responding, probing against her own with matching desire.

Her eyes fluttered open and she drew back, her hands still resting on her Beastie's face. Bright blue eyes gazed back up at her, shining with adoration. And a little something else that brought a blush to Maleficent's normally pale cheeks.

"Godmother!" Aurora exclaimed, her lips quirking in a smile bursting with mischief and life.

Maleficent's heart melted in her chest. She sat down on the bed beside her Aurora, her dawn, her light, and enfolded her in an embrace. Before she knew what she was doing, her lips found the sweetness of her Beastie's again, and they sank into the bliss that was one another.

"Ahem," Diaval announced, gently ushering the astonished, staring faeries and prince towards the door. "I think we should give them some alone time, don't you?"