The beauty of the Moors could not be beaten that evening. The sun set against the thorny wall that separated the two kingdoms, glowing with the magic of the creatures there, and despite the threat of war dwelling on everyone's hearts, Diaval could not resist staring at his mistress that little bit longer than usual. Her dark expression did not lessen her beauty, her sharp cheekbones illuminated by the shining moon and colourful fairies as the sun finally lowered. He could not speak right now, his raven form not shifting until Maleficent allowed it. The curse she had just inflicted upon King Stefan was dreadful, but justified in the minds of everyone who had known the once carefree and gentle queen of the Moors.
Diaval flew close to Maleficent and sat on her armrest, gently poking one of her horns with his beak. Her emerald eyes turned to him and with a flick of her fingers, he was once again Diaval the man, sleek and darkhaired as his feathers. He lowered his head in respect and earned a fleeting smile. He wished there was some way he could comfort her, but she was so far from the reach of anyone now, her heart mangled and her gaze icy cold. Diaval resisted the urge to brush her arm gently, a small touch that might set her off in an unexpected way. She allowed no man to touch her, ever. Even male gremlins and pixies were kept far from her by her tree spirit protector Balthazar, who also remained a considerable distance from his charge.
Maleficent rose from her seat and gestured Diaval to follow. Feeling his features contorting, he knew she was changing him back and without thought, he grabbed her arm and wildly shook his head, feeling the beak surging from his lips. His mistress froze at his touch, her changing eyes narrowing at the fingers turning into feathers on her forearm. Diaval instantly regretted his decision, he just wanted to be human a little longer, to share that walk with Maleficent, wanted to hold that arm for a second more.
For a moment it seemed she would strike him, but her raised hand simply flicked in his direction and Diaval the man remained, the few feathers that had sprouted sinking back beneath his flesh.
"Touch me again, Diaval, and next time you'll never come back."
With that, Maleficent strode away, a sudden blackness bathing her and the steps she took. Diaval enjoyed being a raven, but being a man was different. He was looked at by others, he could move freely wherever he wished. And he could share these walks with his mistress. His mistress who could not bear his touch nor the touch of any man. Diaval wished he could though, wished he was brave, smart and strong enough to be the man who could.
But being her only companion was enough. Her inviting lips smiled at him, every once in a while. Her dark eyes lit up when he bought her flowers and good news. But it was his wings, no not the wings; the raven had no such desire. It was his arms that begged to hold her, to heal the broken woman that gathered her strength every morning whenever her nightmares made her relieve her pain. Diaval the raven was her wings. But Diaval the man? He could be so, so much more.
Just a quickie, should I write more or just stick with the oneshot? I adore Diaval, I really should write a happy one next. But for now, let me know :D
Much Love xx
