In a renewed, lively kingdom, there stood a young woman, beauty and grace and happiness pouring from her every being, having just been crowned queen of the Moors. Her name was Aurora, and she had never felt more pure joy in her life. Her green eyes glistened with bright tears; the boy she had met in the forest, Phillip, was ascending the stoned steps to meet her once again.
"Aurora…" His voice was magic in her ears and she laughed jovially. "You look absolutely perfect. A crown suits you well, it seems."
She giggled in response. "It is not the fact that I wear the crown, but what the crown portrays. A new beginning, Phillip, for all of these creatures and I." He smiled contentedly, a warm gesture to accompany her warm words. The faeries and forest creatures clapped and hollered to their queen.
"It suits far better than I could have imagined," Maleficent cut in, grasping their attention from each other. "A golden crown for a golden girl, and as she has grown and will continue to grow, this kingdom, I know, will only prosper." Her ashen gown glittered in the sunlight, her wings wrapping around her body as her feet touched the ground. Slowly, having trailed behind her, landed Diaval, a grand skeptical of feathers shifting into his nicely dressed human form.
Phillip nodded to them respectfully. "I agree wholeheartedly." He turned to Aurora and grasped her hands. "What are you to do now, dear lady?"
Aurora pursed her lips and thought. The faeries had just recently been bestowed with their old home, a large change from a darker time to a lighter. "I believe – for the sake of all who had endured the darker times – we are to celebrate!" The excitement crept into the crowd and the faeries were already dancing together, a long hymn once sung in the better times. Maleficent showed her white teeth in appreciation of Aurora's kinder words.
"Let it be," she echoed, Diaval shifting again and flying high into the air. Many who could fly followed suit, circling the center of the Moors. As dusk set, the dance became faster and lighter. Aurora soon was claimed by sleep, an act which Phillip lovingly offered his shoulder to. She thought that his princely attire was soft, in the mildly scratchy sort of sense, similar to the yellow dress she had as a child.
Diaval had landed since the setting of the sun. He did not bother to have Maleficent shift him back; the view as a bird was always more rewarding for observation.
And observe he did, his eyes never leaving the young prince and Aurora, a sickeningly sweet sight. Diaval crowed softly. Sickening, indeed. The wind picked up behind his feathers and ruffled the long branches of the tree above the pair. Some dew threatened to fall, but a spark of blue out of nowhere caught the water before it could come close to them.
"You watch with a careful eye, Diaval. Is there something troubling you on a night of celebration?" He cawed once again, this time in alarm. Maleficent had somehow snuck up behind him in his observation, still clearing the blue aura of magic from her fingers. The faery's eyes flashed bright emerald for a moment and he felt himself growing heavier with skin and bone and hair, still an unfamiliar feeling after many years.
His gaze remained on the couple seated below the tree. "No, mistress. I am not troubled. I…" his voice grew suddenly weak, "I am just not used to another man watching her so closely, when you and I have done so for such a long time."
Her wings beat quietly against the loud atmosphere, though the atmosphere itself had begun to sink with the increasing amount of stars in the sky. She tutted, a flutter of the tongue to display her distaste. "A bold statement, coming from a crow." He glared at her shortly before returning to the affectionate couple. "Do not be offended, you know very well what I mean. Your nature is to fleet away from what bothers you, yet here you are, a silent protector, still feeling obligated to keep watch although she is safe and sound."
He opened his mouth to protest, but knew it would be useless. Maleficent was right – Aurora had thousands of protectors now that she was the ruler over the Moors. Hundreds of creatures who would take an arrow for her, like he would have done for her when she was still but a toddler.
"I hope this is not a display of jealousy, Diaval," she said, deliberately ignoring his shocked look.
"Absolutely not, my lady." He spoke as if her words were an atrocity. Yet, there was an imminent pang in his heart on seeing the prince nuzzling his nose into Aurora's hair. "I am not jealous."
The words were reassurance, but Maleficent knew they were not for her. She took flight, searching for the green, pink, and blue faeries for mild interrogation and planning for the future of Aurora's rule.
Diaval sifted a hand through his black hair. Phillip and Aurora could be happy together, and he would remain a crow, like all should be.
So… when did his silent watch turn into a heated glare?