The rain made the stub-ends of Maleficent's wings ache. She shifted beneath the overarching weave of branches that she had trained the young trees to make for her shelter, trying in vain to find a comfortable position. There was a time when she would have been outside enjoying the weather, when being wet was just another condition, no more or less desirable than being dry.
Then again, there was also a time when, if she got tired of being wet, she could have soared through the rainclouds to the open sky and basked in the sun until she was warm and dry. Those days were gone, along with her acceptance of the weather's vagaries as part of the course of nature. They had been gone since she had entrusted a human with her love, and he had betrayed that trust out of greed, drugging her and hacking off her wings as if she had no more feelings than wood, and he the entitlement of a woodsman needing to warm his family.
"Are you warm enough now, Stefan?" Maleficent murmured in the direction of the human castle. He should be, lying in bed beside the king's daughter as once he had lain beside her. She shivered, and reflexively tried to draw her wings around herself like a cloak. A stab of pain reminded her yet again of her loss. The habits of a lifetime were so hard to break! The prospect of going through the rest of her lifetime wingless raised the ache of tears behind her eyes, but no tears emerged.
A soft throat-clearing alerted her to the presence of someone else. Two someones: Burdock and Arrowroot, woodland sprites whose eyes were level with hers as she sat on the ground. They were dripping wet, and not the least discomfited by their condition, but their burdens were magically shielded to keep them dry.
"Beggin' your pardon, milady, we don't want to disturb you, but we thought you might be hungry." Notwithstanding his sharp-pointed name, there was no gentler soul than Arrowroot. He held out a wooden bowl that appeared larger than it was in his tiny hands. The handle of a matching spoon protruded from its depths. The aroma that drifted upward from it told her that it contained stew, including the meat from a willing sacrifice among the forest animals. Rabbit, probably. Whatever it was, it smelled divine, and reminded her how long it had been since her last meal.
The dark fairy accepted the bowl gratefully and took a small taste. Definitely rabbit, with seasonal vegetables, and chunks of the slightly-spicy tuber she loved so much. My people know me well, she thought, dipping the spoon for a second mouthful.
Thunder boomed directly overhead, and lightning crackled but did not reach the ground. Maleficent set the bowl down and rose to her knees, reaching her arms up and out. Muscles flexed, moving bone-stubs in the way that would formerly have led to flight. At the core of her being, she felt the flapping of her wings, captive within a prison built by the human who had stolen them. Tears streamed down her face as she recalled the joy of being surrounded by lightning, as now her poor wings were surrounded by iron and stone.
Again a small throat cleared. Tentatively Burdock offered a smaller bowl, this one carved from stone. The smell that rose from it was herbal and pungent, and familiar. "We know 'ow you 'urt in the rain, an' we fought you might like t' sleep frough it."
Maleficent cupped the stone bowl in the palm of her hand and gazed into it, almost as if scrying. Her own reflection looked back at her, and then disappeared into ripples from the single tear that dripped into it. The potion was strong, and she knew that it would give her temporary peace. Peace she needed more than she'd realized, judging by the fear on her visitors' faces. "Thank you both, my friends. And now I'd like…" To be alone, she finished silently, watching the sprites retreat as quickly as good manners would allow.
Food first, she told herself firmly. To leave the stew uneaten would be to disrespect the sacrifice that had gone into it, the life that had ended to help hers continue, and that would be wrong. Besides, it was delicious, and just having food in her stomach helped to ground out some of her runaway emotion.
When the wooden bowl was empty, the dark fairy set it and the spoon out for the rain to wash clean, and picked up the stone bowl. She swirled its murky contents around and murmured, "Someday I won't need you any more. I hope. But for now, let us ease my pain." She gulped the potion down, shuddering at the taste, and set the stone bowl beside the wooden one for cleaning.
Warmth grew in the pit of her stomach, and a sense of tranquility spread outward from her center. Again muscles flexed in response to the lightning, whose electricity spoke to the wildness in her core, and again Maleficent felt the faint, distant contact with her wings. This time the pain was muted and also distant. "Someday I'll come for you," she whispered to the other part of herself. "Someday…"
Someday she would be whole again. If all else failed, she could outlive the humans and reclaim what was hers from heirs who did not see its value. Not that she planned to wait so long. "Enjoy your time with your pretty princess, Stefan, you who should have been mine." His lust for the other woman, and for her father's throne, would someday be his undoing. That she vowed from the darkest part of her soul. With a faintly-malicious smile curving her lips, she drifted off to sleep, to dream of flight and sun upon her wings.