The Moors and the human kingdom were united under Good Queen Aurora, but that did not mean there were no bad men left. Yet life since the crowning had been so peaceful that Diaval did not consider he might be in any peril when venturing out on a flight.

That is why he frequently ended up on the outskirts of the human farms, sifting through the hay-strewn ground for dropped and forgotten baubles he could bring home to his mistress…or was it friend now? He wasn't quite sure. Since Maleficent had released him from their contract he had been quite uncertain. He had requested to stay and she allowed it, with no small amount of relief in her eyes that only someone who had known her as long as Diaval would notice. They flew together regularly and she was working on a spell that would allow him to control his transformations from bird to man and back. She had asked him not to call her mistress, but he slipped every now and then.

So what were they? Instead of trying to work it out he opted not to think too hard on the matter – he was still by Maleficent's side every day and that was enough.

And so to show his gratitude he would bring home pretty stones and flowers, bits of jewelry and colorful cloth, anything he could find that he was sure no one would miss. Then he would return and swoop down to lay that day's find by Maleficent's hand. She would sigh or roll her eyes but he could see a smile playing on her lips and each item ended up tucked into tree bark or dangling from a branch or propped up by a root. Soon their simple home – he was finally beginning to dare to think of it that way – looked as though it was decorated for a festival. The sight of it brought joy to the faerie, and that brought joy to Diaval, and all was as well as it could be.

And yet there was still evil in the world, though since Stefan's defeat it no longer ran rampant but had sunk into crevices and corners and remained in some hearts. And it was on one of his many excursions that Diaval encountered it.

He was perched on the fence at the edge of a pasture examining a shiny metal piece that had fallen off the bridle of a horse, internally debating whether it was worthy of their growing collection. So lost in his thoughts was the raven that he did not hear cautious footsteps approaching or an object being lifted from the ground behind him.

It all seemed to happen at once – the blow, a crack, the pain, falling – and then Diaval was on the ground, the breath knocked from him, flapping wildly. His vision blurred from the pain and he quickly realized that the crack he'd heard was his left wing breaking. Somehow in spite of his panic he managed to angle himself to see his attacker. Climbing over the fence towards him was an angry looking man, and on the ground between them his weapon – a large rock. The man was mumbling viciously, and Diaval caught choice phrases like "damn pests" and "finish it off".

Diaval knew he had to get out of there. Dying did not frighten him – he had long outlived the lifespan of an ordinary raven and was grateful for it. No, it was the thought of leaving his Maleficent alone, of her never knowing what had happened to him or perhaps even believing he had left her, that was what he feared most.

He used his good wing to prop himself onto his feet. The other wing was bent at an awkward angle and felt like it was on fire, but he gave it a test flap and found he could move it. Just as the man was leaning to pick up the rock, Diaval hopped away a few times, flapping more with each step and finally managing to get off the ground. He wobbled but remained air bound and continued upward until he was out of the man's reach.

He rose until he could see home in the distance and began to slowly make his way toward the familiar landscape, dipping occasionally when the pain overwhelmed him. What would normally have been a quick and carefree flight home became an arduous journey. By the time he reached where the wall of thorns once stood, he felt as though he was going to black out.

By the time he reached the river that cut through the Moors, he did.

While Diaval was off on one of his flights, sure to return home with some new ornament for her, Maleficent was enjoying a quiet day off. The previous day there had been a small brush fire and she'd spent most of the day healing the ground, grass and trees. It was nice to sit on a hill overlooking the Moors and enjoy the newfound peace, but part of her wished that Diaval was sitting beside her, chattering on about something. The faerie had grown so used to his companionship that even a few short hours apart allowed the loneliness to seep in and she had to busy herself to distract from it. Of course she'd never admit this to him – the vain bird would let it go to his head, and she couldn't have that. Maleficent smiled a little to herself imagining the smug look that would surely grace his face if he ever knew how much she missed him when he was gone.

It was then that she saw a small dark shape moving strangely in the distance. It was drifting up and down as if it couldn't steady itself. Maleficent spread her great wings wide and took off to get a closer look at the creature.

Suddenly, it began to plummet down towards the river. At the same time, Maleficent recognized the shape as that of a raven.

No, not just a raven.

Her raven.

Diaval.

She charged forward but was certain she would not reach him in time. He was still too far away for her to even tell if he was conscious or not, but she had to hope he was.

"Into a man!" she declared frantically, sending the swirling golden magic at him. His form shifted from bird to man and second later he hit the water with a loud splash.

Maleficent hurried to catch up. She landed on the bank of the river and watched the rippling water for signs of life. If he was conscious, and not too badly injured, he would be able to swim to the surface. She knew this from countless afternoons watching him and Aurora play and swim together.

But he did not emerge. The water soon stilled and a single black feather floated calmly down to land on the smooth surface. Panic flooded Maleficent's heart. She thrust her hands forward and cast magic that sent the water surging away from where Diaval had landed in all directions like a great fountain, until she located the soaked and unconscious man in its depths. While one hand's magic kept the water at bay, she raised his limp form up with the other and gently placed him on the shore. She released the water and rushed to his side.

"Diaval!"

The first thing she noticed was his bruised and mangled left arm. That explained the trouble flying. Later, when he was safe, she would find out who was responsible and…

Save him first. That was what mattered most. She focused on him, eyes moving to his chest to check for its rise and fall.

He was still as a stone.

She swiftly moved her hand over his mouth hoping to feel even the smallest breath, but there was none.

Struggling to remain calm, Maleficent held her hands a few inches above his heart. Swirls of golden healing magic drifted from her fingers and surrounded him with a hazy glow. The faerie waited, barely breathing as she watched for signs of life. But just as her attempt to remove Aurora's curse had failed, so did her magic now.

She could heal all manner of injuries and mend broken branches, but for all her great powers, she could not bring back the dead.

"Diaval?" she tried, hoping he would respond to her voice. "Diaval, this isn't funny!"

He remained motionless.

This wasn't happening. This couldn't happen.

Everything they had been through together – nearly two decades of conflict with the human kingdom, the battle at the castle – and this was how she was going to lose him?

Maleficent once thought that nothing could be as painful as waking to Stefan's betrayal and the loss of her wings. Yet the pain of that moment seemed not unlike the despair that now consumed her at the very real possibility of losing her dear companion, her wings when she'd had none.

Composure gone, she began pressing, then pounding on his chest, saying his name over and over and begging him to breathe. She desperately took his face in her hands, checking for breath, checking his eyes for a sign of life, anything.

When he remained unresponsive the last of her resolve broke and tears welled up in her eyes and dropped onto his pale face. She leaned forward and gently pressed her forehead to his. Clouds rolled in above but her wings sheltered them both from the chilly air. One hand reached up to stroke his wet hair back from his face while the other remained over his heart, the heart that was so, so big and full of love for her and Aurora.

Taking a shuddering breath, she spoke to him, knowing he couldn't hear what she said but needing to say it anyway.

"I need you Diaval," she whispered, her voice heavy with emotion, mirroring the words he'd once spoken in jest. "I can't do this without you, Diaval."

It was true. She needed him. And even with her vengeance long past, there was so much she did not wish to do without him by her side – fly above the clouds, protect the Moors, watch their Aurora grow. A pained sound somewhere between a sob and the word "please" escaped her and she curled around him more.

Beneath her hand stirred the barest flutter of a heartbeat. Too lost in sorrow, Maleficent did not notice. Nor did she notice the next, or the next, each one a little stronger than the last.

Suddenly his body jerked beneath her and she sat up so fast it made her head spin. Diaval's chest was heaving and he looked as though he was struggling to breathe. Quickly she turned him onto his side and his heaves became violent coughs as he hacked up water. Coughing meant breathing and breathing meant he was alive and the relief that flooded her was so strong and sudden that she could have cried and laughed all at once. Instead, though, she supported his head with one hand and kept the other palm fixed above his now rapidly beating heart. The coughing continued for a few minutes before slowing down to hoarse, heavy breaths. She carefully rolled him onto his back once more.

"Diaval?" Maleficent asked softly.

Slowly his eyes opened slightly, closed, opened again fully. He took a deep breath and blinked several times. Instantly he locked his dark eyes with Maleficent's bright ones and immediately felt relief at her presence. One corner of his mouth curved up just a little accompanied by a gleam in his eyes.

"Hello mistress."

The last time the faerie had felt such joy was when her beastie had woken from the spell. She let the joy spread across her face uninhibited in a wide smile. She reached down and cupped his face between her hands, glided them up to pet his dark hair, slid two fingers to his steady pulse to make sure she wasn't imagining this. Diaval just closed his eyes and breathed and enjoyed the onslaught of affection, the feel of her warm hands.

"Don't you ever do that to me again, you foolish bird," she mumbled.

He opened his eyes again and smiled sheepishly up at her.

"I didn't mean to frighten you."

He saw the fear still lingering in her eyes and moved his right hand to cover one of hers where it lay again over his heart. The sharp pain in his left arm was returning but he ignored it and focused on Maleficent.

"Truly, mistress. I wouldn't dream of leaving you."

"You don't have to call me that any more, you know." She turned her hand over to let their fingers weave together.

Diaval smiled, wincing slightly.

"Sorry. Bit of a habit."

"Your arm. What happened to it?"

"Angry farmer." He paused and watched her face darken. "Please don't go set him on fire or something, we finally have peace…"

The faerie stared at him a moment, then sighed and nodded. She gently placed her fingers on his arm. Golden light flowed from them as she worked her healing magic. Diaval bit his lip to keep from crying out as the broken bones mended but soon relaxed when the pain faded away. When it was over he carefully sat up. He flexed his arm once and found it felt good as new.

"Much better. I almost feel back to my usual, irresistible self," he said with a wink.

"You ridiculous raven," Maleficent responded fondly.

They sat there a moment just staring at each other, grateful to still be together. A gentle breeze blew and the still-soaked Diaval finally broke his gaze with a shiver. He was about to suggest they return home when he felt a pair of strong, slender arms encircle his shoulders and a pair of wings envelop him in their feathery warmth. He found his head resting in the crook of Maleficent's neck. He could smell her earthy scent and feel her soft feathers and hear her gentle hum of affection and it was all so warm and pleasant and comforting that his eyes drifted shut and he sighed happily. In their years together he had often felt useful, appreciated, wanted even. Those were all nice.

But here and now, surrounded completely by the one he cared about more than anything in the world, for the first time ever he felt loved.