Beloved By All
"It's so ugly, I could almost feel sorry for it."
Maleficent had only intended to look again at the baby. She had only seen the disgusting thing once at its christening after all, and a fleeting glance at that, too absorbed in the casting of her curse to pay attention to exactly what she was cursing. Perhaps she would send it back to its father, and remind him that there was not a place on this earth where he and his family could be safe from her. If he thought three bumbling fairies would be enough to fool her, Stefan was a greater fool than she imagined. She was born with magic more powerful than the three combined, and the already vast gap in power had only grown with time until there was an immeasurable gulf between them.
As though hiding in a forest would save the beast from her curse.
Maleficent peered over the windowsill and gazed down at the bundle of fat and slobber. Her lip curled at the disgusting sight. She hated children. They were bright and hopeful and innocent and possessed of all those things she had lost, but Maleficent hated this one especially because she had not lost her heart. It had been stolen from her, by none other than this thing's father. Stefan had stolen her wings and her heart and given them to this beast. Maleficent looked down at Aurora, grip tightening around her staff as her rage returned a hundred fold at this living reminder of betrayal.
Aurora looked back, and smiled.
Maleficent had been drugged once. She remembered the sensation of weightlessness and relaxation as all the tension left her body and all the worries left her mind. She remembered how it felt to give up control. Now she could feel her control slipping away again at the sight of that smile, that beautiful pure smile. Something took hold of her and entangled itself into every corner of her mind like a twisting vine, choking out all other thought she might have had. Suddenly, she was very sure of one thing.
She loved Aurora.
She had always loved Aurora.
She would forever and always love Aurora–
Clattering from elsewhere in the cottage woke Maleficent from her thoughts. It had been long since she felt panic, but she hurriedly looked away from Aurora even as she realized that the damage was done. It would be her last moment of clear-headedness before the spell took hold completely, by the enchantment she herself put in place and was now ensnared in like any other unwitting fool. Maleficent could have laughed at her idiocy.
The princess shall indeed grow in grace and beauty, beloved by all who know her.
Beloved by all who know her.
In those last moments before the spell robbed her of free will, Maleficent realized she had cursed herself too. She could no sooner hate Aurora than she could take her own life, and in that instant she knew that Stefan had won. Maleficent had defeated herself.
She did not love
She did not
She did
She
She loved
She loved Aurora.