A/N

1/29/15 - Goddess, this was a mess. This is what happens when one posts from the bottom of a bottle. I've cleaned up the mistakes, updated some content to make it flow in a way that makes more sense for a Malora fic, and hopefully it's just a more pleasant read. I am done now with the overhaul, and will be working on a large content update to bring us to about the halfway point of this story. Please look forward to it.

1/28/15 - This is undergoing some overhaul. I have a massive update to this work, but I've seen some issues with formatting throughout the first few chapters that need to be corrected, and I need to add some more Mal stuff. Bear with me.

Original notes:

I've added a few OC in order to create some situations, so if OC really isn't your thing, you may want to move on. However, my OC probably won't be what you expect it to be. I use characters in specific ways. In this fic, there will be no romantic pairings between oc, or between oc and base characters (Darla's story is already written elsewhere). I'm borrowing her because she is useful... and dead\therefore available. Diaval is in raven form, and he needs someone who can understand him while he makes his way through the world and tries to adjust to no longer being Maleficent's constant companion, and Aurora has a distinct lack of friendship options.

I've decided this will indeed be a Malora fic. I've figured out how to make it work. I apologize to any who may have been looking forward to a Maleval pairing. I tried, but every time I think about what to write for this fic, it does not come back to a romance between Diaval and Maleficent. I may offer some alternative versions of this work. It's not something I have done before, but I have the outline of that original story and can modify this for it.

As always, I hope that you enjoy the fiction.

Prologue

Unknown hour, deep in the Moorlands

Quietly, the silent creature approached from the shadows, stiffening resolve formless in the twilight, longing perceptible and forlorn as the dawn. Softly, he spoke, a whispered question, a pleading request, a cautiously offered eternity.

"So now what?"

The day was coming to a close, like so many others before it, but the difference on this day was that he could no longer pretend to be content with a non-committal acquiesce to his presence.

A raised eyebrow and that icy stare as she responded with her classically confused, "what?" was the only acknowledgement she gave.

The man with the raven colored hair shifted nervously from foot to foot, having never quite gotten used to the feel of soil beneath them. Not even twenty years of life as a habitual "man" could change his nature, his very essence; claim his lofty and regal identity. He stole a glance from behind his unkempt locks at the mystical creature lounging easily against a tree before him, and sighed softly. It had taken him months to muster up the courage to ask her this, and he was both fearful that she wouldn't release him and fearful… that she would. It had been nearly twenty years since that fateful day she'd followed him to that field, and now that it was over, now that all of it was truly over and the Moors had been returned to its former beauty and glory, now that he had seen that the kindness in her heart truly outshone the mortal splendor without… he wasn't certain he wanted to go. Still, she wasn't answering and he needed to know. He decided to risk her wrath.

"Maleficent, I think you know what I'm asking." He lowered his eyes once more and clasped his hands in front of him. Usually a show of contrition could diffuse any pending storm. He waited quietly, a small tempest brewing in his own confused mind. As a raven, he was of course intelligent, but he lacked the depth of emotion that came with the complexity a human brain offered. Or was it because of his human brain at all?

Perhaps not. I've indulged in far too many fantasies; let my imagination run away with me all too often. I've been a fool. If I'd been using my brain, I might not be in this situation.

A long breath was the only response from his companion for what seemed like hours. The time drew on as the dusk gave way to a deeper night, and just when he was about to clear his throat and ask one more time what was to become of him… of them… he felt it. The bonds were broken, the magic was gone, and with it returned his wings and perfect form. Two powerful flaps into the air saved him from hitting the ground unceremoniously, and he pushed through the wind to a nearby branch, hanging low almost as if it were waiting for him. The air grew chill, as if all the love and warmth had been taken from it, and as he looked around with his keen raven eyes, his heart grew heavy and his head bowed low. He knew why the atmosphere had shifted so. She was gone.

He was free.

Yet he'd never felt more chained in all of his life.

Late morning, Wanderings

She walked slowly through the mists, a habit from darker days, her mind muddled with confused emotions. In one moment, everything in her neatly compartmentalized little world had changed. No longer could she pretend that all was as it ought to be.

Diaval had changed. She sensed the deepening emotions years ago emanating from the young raven, but at the time felt it safe to ignore. After all, her singular purpose was centered on the child Aurora. Diaval knew that. He knew what the terms were and he knew what was at stake. He should have planned accordingly. Her revenge trumped all other considerations, and his purpose was to help her exact that revenge. And in that role, he performed admirably.

I should have distanced myself long before this. I leaned too heavily on him. I gave him far too many opportunities to misinterpret my intentions for him.

Maleficent sighed and slowed her pace. There were no other creatures around; they were still fearful of her even though the darkness had passed. It would take time for the land to heal, and even longer for her heart to heal. Every day a little bit of progress was made, but she found that often that progress was halted when she was separated from the one light in her life; the child queen Aurora.

I should just go there. Diaval will be fine in time, and my heart aches to see her again. Three more weeks is far too long, and I am tired, so tired.

Maleficent looked to the sky and judged the time to be just before noon. How long had she been walking?

Half a day, at least.

Time flowed differently in this realm, and often she would lose track of how much of it had passed. The time away from Aurora was more bearable that way. She hadn't been back to her tree in quite some time, and couldn't remember the last time she had a restful sleep.

No, that is not entirely accurate. The last time I had a restful sleep was the last time I was at Aurora's castle.

Maleficent flexed her wings and lifted from the ground. They didn't falter, but she was fatigued. She had been neglecting herself for many moons now, sensing Diaval would soon ask her for that which she could not give. She needed to escape the oppressive air of the Moorlands and decompress. She needed to see Aurora, if only for a day. Then after a rest, she could sort out her thoughts and continue working toward their shared goals. Diaval would be fine. He would return to his raven kin, she would return to her life as protector over the lands, and under Aurora's leadership, the entire world would blossom as if had just been newly born.

Early afternoon, Queen Aurora's throne room

"You seem distracted, Godmother." Queen Aurora examined the cloth her servants had brought her absently, nodding at the more conservative ones of forest greens and browns, and waving away the more extravagant bolts with brightly colored designs. It had only been months since her coronation of the Two Kingdoms, as she liked to refer to them, but already she was settling into her role as leader, with her godmother as her most trusted adviser. This was just another one of those mundane tasks that fell to her; determining the theme of the season.

"Distracted?"

"Yes," Aurora replied as she leaned back in her father's throne. She shifted back and forth in it, trying to find a comfortable position against the cold iron. King Stefan, in his madness, had surrounded himself with the metal, thinking it might afford him some protection from Maleficent's perceived wrath. Aurora had ordered all of the iron removed from the castle, but the structure had been heavily fortified and it would take time to undo all that had been done. "You've barely said a word since you arrived, and don't think I haven't noticed that you have arrived. You weren't due to visit the castle for several more weeks, Godmother. The reconstruction is still underway. There is still much iron to remove." Aurora gestured to her handmaiden to leave them, and turned to the only mother she'd ever known. "Will you not tell me what is bothering you? Where is Diaval?" Since her arrival, Maleficent had been quiet, even for the dark and brooding woodland protector who only spoke when necessary. Something was not right; something had changed.

The powerful fae was seated on a large wooden table with her back to the stone wall, the iron chairs that adorned the court too harsh for her delicate skin. Her wings folded neatly behind her, legs tucked carefully under; even in a remotely dark corner of a room she had the quiet countenance of royalty. Oh, not the kind of royalty that ruled the human kingdoms, ruthless and often spineless and cowardly, striking down all that they feared or misunderstood, no… Maleficent was something altogether otherworldly. It was as if the angels themselves carved her out of the precious jewels of the earth, and breathed life into the last pure bits of starlight left in the heavens to give shape to her soul. Still, something was clearly on the creature's mind; the nearly unshakable ivory pillar of strength, and Diaval, the kindly raven that had been by the faerie's side for as long as Aurora could remember, was strangely absent.

Maleficent turned her icy gaze toward the child, no, now the woman, who had haunted her thoughts for nearly the last two decades. Her eyes softened, though the hardened features of her face didn't change, and she said simply, "I've released him from my service." Nothing more needed to be said, after all. He'd asked, and she'd given her answer. She'd given the only answer she could give him.

"I've released him from my service," Aurora repeated quietly.

So, that was what had her godmother so preoccupied. Though the magnificent fae would likely never admit it, it was clear she had grown fond of the sarcastic raven. He had been her only companion for time out of mind, at least from Aurora's point of view. It must have been terribly lonely all those years, watching over her and ensuring the well-meaning pixies didn't accidentally forget her somewhere in the woods. Why had that thought never occurred to her before? Maleficent was so cold and distant, but warm and vulnerable at the same time. Sometimes she'd catch glimpses of light behind those eyes, joyful light, healing light, the kind that only a magical creature of great power could ever possess, much less harness and direct. It captivated her. That light had returned for a time following the days when the two lands had united, but as time drew on and the world healed, something still held Maleficent's own healing back.

"Well, why would you do something like that?" Aurora decided the direct, matter of fact approach would be best. The elder fae held her emotions close, and it would take tact to get to the heart of the matter. Tact, and likely time.

"He is a free creature of the wild. I held him for far too long against his will. His task was fulfilled, and his debt repaid many times over. His fortune will be bright in the Moors; I've seen to that." Maleficent closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the cool stone, breathing in deeply. She had done the right thing. Of that, at least, she was certain. Diaval had indeed been a loyal companion, questioning her only seldom and never disobeying. As time wore on, she had become accustomed to his presence, but she always kept him at a distance. Now, it was time for him to move on.

"Perhaps," Aurora started, unsure how she wanted to proceed. Those simple statements had left many unanswered questions. What was the manner in which Diaval and her godmother had parted? Had the raven demanded his freedom? She couldn't imagine the meek, kindly bird demanding anything, much less his 'freedom'. Had they fought? She wouldn't put it past her godmother to misinterpret something and send some careless magic the hapless creature's way. Or had he asked for something more, as Aurora suspected he secretly longed for, and her godmother, unable or unwilling to return his feelings, had banished him, closing that particular chapter of her life?

Why does it make me nervous to consider…

Aurora was under no illusions about so-called true love. She knew it did not exist, at least not in the form of a romantic bond between mortals. But Maleficent wasn't a mortal, and she'd already demonstrated the capability for the purest of love. Surely the rules didn't apply to the fae.

But the question is does she love Diaval?

"How long ago did he depart?" Aurora wouldn't get lost in her own speculation. She would find the answer to the question and proceed from there.

"Oh, quite some time," Maleficent replied without opening her eyes. "I've forgotten, being so busy rebuilding the Moors."

Now that's a lie, Godmother. I'll be shocked indeed if it was just a day ago.

Aurora rose from her chair and stepped lightly over to the table, hoisting herself over the edge and leaning against Maleficent's mighty left wing. "How is the rebuilding going, anyway? I am sorry that I haven't been able to come back for so long. I will make some time to visit before the year is out."

Maleficent nodded once and folded the wing around the child. "All of the Moorfolk have been asking after your health. The seasons have changed and the cold air has slowed the growth of new flora, but when spring comes again I have every confidence that it will be glorious. That is when you must come."

"If that is what you wish," Aurora said with a smirk, earning a sharp, but playful, look from the older faerie. "On a more serious note," she continued, "do you expect to see Diaval again?"

Maleficent didn't miss a beat. "I don't expect to see him ever again, no."

"Hmm," Aurora whispered to herself. "I see." She nestled closer to her protector and closed her eyes. Something about being wrapped in Maleficent's wings always made her sleepy. Perhaps it was the safety they afforded, the strong, powerful appendages that never faltered, not even once. Perhaps it was the comfort of being so close to such a magical being, a force not of the mortal world and untouched by the hands of time. Perhaps Maleficent just shed a bunch of faerie dust all over her whenever she came near. It didn't really matter to Aurora, in the end. All that mattered was the comfortable sound of the faerie's breathing, and right now, the soothing tempo of the elder fae's heart.

Oh Godmother, why must you shoulder everything alone?

And with that thought, Aurora let slumber take her.