Maleficent had to concentrate, otherwise something could go wrong. Aurora was suspended in midair, alongside Diaval, and was in the process of becoming a changeling. Except she wouldn't be a shapeshifter like her faithful servant. No, she was going to become her daughter. And to become her daughter, she had to become a faery.
Manipulating her memories had been easy, a simple process of shifting and conforming something that was already there. She had simply taken the girl's memories of her shadow and added to them, making it seem as though she had been in the Moors instead of the nearby woods. Yes, that had been easy. The hard part was the physical transformation. Manipulating the human body was always hard, as it was to change any living being, but with such a young child it was especially difficult.
She was still growing, so the proportions had to be just right. And if she were to slip she may damage something important. She had to make sure the changes she wanted to make were perfect the first time, since she was afraid that if she had to correct too many mistakes the magic may not hold. She had a vague picture in mind of what she wanted to do, so she built on it, concentrating on it until it was as clear as the sun and as solid as a rock in her mind. She would be beautiful, and if Maleficent had her way it would only take a few minutes.
Golden magic flowing from her fingers, she began to coax a pair of horns out of Aurora's scalp. It was difficult, as her body wasn't built to handle the extra weight, and if she wasn't careful she could easily snap her neck. As she coaxed the new appendages out of the muscle and bone that was already there, more of her magic went into the child's head and neck muscles, strengthening them so they would be able to bear the newly added weight. She watched as two tiny stumps began to emerge from the child's scalp. They grew larger as the magic continued to flow, and before long the small blonde bore a pair of horns identical to the fae's, only differing in size.
Next she began work on the girl's facial features. She wouldn't need, nor did she desire, to make any radical changes. The pixies' gifts of beauty had done much of her work for her, the exception being the girl's cheekbones. That was the only thing linking her to the Queen. They had the same bone structure.
Slowly, she raised the bones, causing them to become sharper and more prominent. She stopped shortly after she began, satisfied that she now looked less like her human mother and more like the faery she was in her heart. Gently, her magic turned the child face down so that her back was exposed to the fae. Golden magic swirled around small shoulders, gently expanding the bones, joints and muscles so that she would be able to bear her next alteration. The magic then split open the back of the dress so that Maleficent could continue her work.
Excruciatingly slowly, two stumps of muscle and bone began to sprout from between the young girl's shoulders. Soft feathers began to sprout out of the new appendages, following the magic that created them. Before long, what had once been a bare back sported a pair of wings. At full extension they reached five feet in diameter, the same as Maleficent's had when she was Aurora's age. The sun glittered off the gray and white feathers, so stark in contrast to Maleficent's own dark wings.
Her own shoulders ached at the thought of her lost wings, and she winced at the memory that accompanied them. A thought struck her then; how was she going to teach her daughter to fly if she didn't have wings? She had been forced to teach herself after her parents' death, and it had been incredibly hard. She didn't want the same fate to befall Aurora, and it wasn't Diaval's place to teach her. It was something shared between a faery and their parents, and she wished fervently that she could get her wings back.
Shaking herself out of her melancholy thoughts, she moved onto the final but most important phase of the process. It was also the most dangerous, as it involved the transfer of magic. Raw magic was always dangerous, but it became even more so when being transferred to another being or object. It was essential that she kept her concentration, as she would be putting magic into a body not born with it. Exhaling deeply to center herself, she began to pull her own golden magic out of her core, transferring it into the young girl.
She could feel the magic leaving her body. The process didn't hurt, simply brushed against her insides. It was odd, almost as if she had swallowed a string and was now removing it. Aurora's body began to glow as it accepted the magic and began to absorb it. She felt the magic knit into the girl's being, and soon the glow faded away, leaving her with a faery child.
She ended the trance she had put on them both, watching as their feet touched the earth. She noticed she felt slightly empty, and somewhat weak, now that her magic had been given away. But even as she stood there she could feel it beginning to build back up and repair itself. Her daughter was beautiful, even more than she had been previously. When Aurora blinked and shook away the last traces of her suspension spell, she smiled and locked eyes with the older fae.
Her eyes were now a stunning mixture of electric blue, gold, and the slightest hint of emerald green. They glowed with the power that was now ingrained within her, making her as much a part of the Moors as Maleficent. She stretched out her wings, opening them to their full extent, grinning as she felt their power. Maleficent held her breath as she gazed at them. Had her memory alteration worked?
"Mommy," the small child began, "when can I fly? You said you took your first flight when you were half my age!"
She smiled, letting out her breath.
"Soon, Beastie. You must remember, I was a bit more willful than you."
Frustrated at the answer, the blonde began pumping the appendages as hard as she could, and to her mother's amazement, managed to rise a few feet into the air. She landed, grinning triumphantly. Seeing the look of astonishment on the older woman's face, mixed with pride, her grin broadened.
"See? I told you I was ready."
"Not quite yet, but soon, very soon," Maleficent laughed as she scooped the child into her arms.
Later on, after the two had settled into Maleficent's nest in the Rowan tree, the older woman watched proudly as Aurora manipulated some of her old wooden dolls. The little girl, with a few twirls of her fingers, sent the dolls spinning through the air in a graceful dance. She was supposed to be napping, but Maleficent found she didn't mind if it meant seeing how the changes suited the child. She wielded magic as if she really had been born with it, the same way she controlled her wings. As Aurora yawned, the dolls began to descend to the bottom of the nest, and the older woman stroked a hand through blonde curls.
She had just gotten her daughter to sleep when Diaval came squawking into the tree. She glared at him, gesturing to the child curled into her side, but nonetheless transformed him into a man.
"What is so important that it couldn't wait?" she hissed in an icy tone.
"Mistress, the human Princess, she's died," he panted, obviously having flown as quickly as he could to deliver the news.
She had to suppress a smirk. Oh, if Stephan and those three idiots only knew...
"Oh, what a pity," she replied, false sympathy coating her words. She stretched, bringing her daughter closer to her. "If that's all, Diaval," she said, raising her hand in preparation to return him to his true form.
"Wait, Mistress, there's something else. Something more important."
Her hand lowered. What could be more important than the news her plan was a success?
"Well?" she snapped when he didn't continue.
"Mistress," he said, onyx eyes boring into hers, "I've found your wings."