My, my, it's been ages since I've been on here! Anyway, onwards! This is a story that's been tumbling around in my mind ever since I saw Maleficent and I'm just now getting the time to publish. It will be a story in two parts, with the first sticking very closely to the plot of the movie, with some original stuff thrown in. The second will be an entirely new work. It's my intention that they can be read as separate pieces, though by all means, I'd love for you guys to read the whole thing. So, without further ado, allow me to present All The Ways!

Disclaimer: I am acknowledging the use of direct quotes from the movie.


Their fates were sealed the moment she was born, though neither of them – least of all the slumbering babe – could have known just how entwined their lives would become.

As Maleficent peered into the cradle, she mused on the helplessness of the mound of swaddled cloth that was the infant Princess. Aurora, like the dawn. Such a pity Stefan shall not witness its full splendour again.

Her spell cast and duly satisfied with the fear it engendered in the humans, the fairy hastened back to the safety of the Moors, not desiring to spend more time than necessary in the mortal kingdom. A familiar cawing over her shoulder alerted Maleficent to her companion's presence. She prickled at the term, but she preferred it to referring to him as her servant. Flicking her fingers absent-mindedly, Maleficent waited for the man to materialise in front of her.

'Speak'.

'Your curse was a success Mistress, but I'm still unsure as to why you directed it at the child'.

Maleficent scoffed at the absurdity of the remark. 'Really Diaval, I had taken you for a more perceptive bird. Stefan must know the pain of losing part of himself.'

'But surely that could have been done without cursing an innocent-'.

Her already tenuous patience wearing thin, Maleficent turned abruptly and stalked to her rowan, transforming Diaval back to his true form almost as an afterthought, his shrieks piercing her mind. Fool.


Time – as it is wont to do – passed with little consequences in the Moors. Maleficent, smug in the knowledge of the pain her curse was causing, drifted back into her familiar role as Protector of the Moors. As respite from her duties and the fearful looks cast her way each time she made her rounds, the fairy allowed herself to indulge in minor distractions. The pull of taunting the three idiot pixies Stefan foolishly charged with the upbringing of his child was too much even for a being of her stature to ignore. Between hair-pulling and spontaneous indoor rainstorms – really, how dense could they be? – Maleficent paid little attention to the steadily growing baby; save for sending Diaval on an errand to feed it, she distanced herself as much as she could.

But, though she tried to hide it – mostly from herself, but especially from the raven's judging eyes – as the years passed, Maleficent found herself shortening the length of time she spent away from the little cottage in the woods.

She forced herself to think of it as a bond of necessity. After all, if no one was adequately looking after the child, how could she expect her gift to come to fruition? To Maleficent, her reasoning seemed sound enough; besides, Diaval had grown fond of his new plaything. After all I have asked of him, the least I can grant him are a few moments of levity. Her aquiline features falling into a scowl, the fairy thought of Stefan. I will not allow him to best me again; his daughter's life is mine. Satisfied with this assertion, Maleficent moved on to more pleasant thoughts, content with the banishment of her growing sense of responsibility for the infant's welfare for the time being.


For her part, the young peasant princess was growing into the life gifted to her. She was graceful, even as she leapt across moss-covered stones, beautiful despite lacking the amenities of the castle and indeed beloved by all who knew her. Though they felt inconvenienced by her very presence, the pixies could not deny their affection for the child. Maleficent, believing herself to be above such trivial 'magic', simply excluded herself from it. She supposed her feelings for the girl were verging on maternal, but she hardly felt that constituted being beloved.

Aurora became aware of Maleficent at a young age. If she thought hard enough, she knew that her first memories were of a tall, horned figure lurking over her cradle. Aurora also knew that she was not afraid of the shadowy form that often trailed behind her, yet she knew instinctively that she must not inform her aunts of its presence, lest it be frightened away. The girl desperately wished for the mysterious creature to stay, for besides the raven that often winged its way to her windowsill, it was the only friend she had.

Inquisitive by nature, Aurora often wandered the forest bordering the cottage alone, save for the horned shadow she knew to be following her. It was on one of her many excursions that the princess first came upon the wall of thorns Maleficent had conjured to keep the humans from invading the Moors.

'I wonder', Aurora mused quietly to herself, though her words carried swiftly and clearly to Maleficent's keen ears on the brisk breeze. Keeping just inside the tree line, the fairy better positioned herself to watch as the girl moved closer to the thorns, clearly not perturbed by their obvious intent to cause serious harm.

As Aurora lifted her hand to rest it upon one of the thorns, she felt a pulse race through her body. It was reflected in the soft golden glow at Maleficent's fingertips and she quickly buried her hands in her robes to save from being noticed by the princess. Seemingly satisfied by her interaction with the wall, Aurora made her way back to the path that would lead her home and away from the fairy.

After allowing a few moments to pass, Maleficent stepped out from the shadows and approached the wall, Diaval alighting on her shoulder.

Stroking the raven's feathers, she stopped in front of the thorn Aurora had touched.

'I wonder indeed'.