Princess Aurora was nowhere to be found in the nearest village. Nor the next one. Making matters worse, much to the Good Fairies' consternation, none of the villagers they asked had seen her passing through at any time that day.
And so it was with heavy hearts, as the sun set on Aurora's sixteenth birthday, that Flora, Fauna and Merryweather flew to the court of King Stefan and Queen Leah of the Kingdom of Light to deliver the bad news.
"Now wait just a moment, what do you mean she's run off?" King Stefan was incredulous.
"Is she safe? When can we see her?" Queen Leah asked, brow creased with concern.
"Oh, yes, she's perfectly safe," Flora assured her. "You'll get to see her quite soon, don't you worry."
Personally, Fauna thought Flora was being just a tad overconfident, but she was never one to contradict her sister in public and was not about to start now. While it was true they would know right away if any actual harm had come to Aurora – one does not raise a child from the time it was a baby without forging that special sort of magical bond, after all – they were also no closer to locating her than earlier this afternoon. There was no telling how long it would take to find the errant princess.
The only person present who appeared to be happy about the news was King Hubert, Stefan's oldest friend and ally, of the neighboring Red Kingdom.
"Well now!" Hubert leaned over the side of the throne and clapped Stefan on the shoulder. "It seems your girl and my boy are more alike than we thought!"
"What are you talking about?" Stefan looked perplexed.
Hubert gave a hearty chuckle. "It's the funniest thing! Phillip ran off too, you see. Said he's met some peasant girl and fallen in love!"
Flora's eyes went wide as saucers. "A peasant girl? Oh, oh! Where did he meet her?"
"Who knows? Once upon up on a dream, he said."
"Once upon a-" Merryweather gasped. "That's what Rose said!"
"Quite right, dear," said Fauna. "She said the same thing about that boy she met–"
Flora flapped her hands, unable to contain her excitement. "Why, Prince Phillip is the boy! Oh, but this is wonderful!"
"Rose, who's Rose?" asked Hubert.
"It's the name we gave Aurora when we took her into hiding," Flora explained patiently.
Comprehension dawned on Hubert's face. "And that's whom Phillip meant…?"
The three fairies nodded in unison.
"Well I'll be!" Hubert roared. "You see, Stefan? It's all worked out in the end."
"You mean to say that your Phillip and my Aurora are, are–"
"Getting to know one another!"
Stefan shot to his feet. "This is preposterous!" he said. "Gallivanting about the countryside by themselves? Before the wedding? It's- it's improper!"
"Now look here!" Hubert jabbed a finger against Stefan's chest. "You've got a lot of nerve, calling my Phillip improper!"
"I just don't see why they couldn't have waited until Aurora returned to the castle," Stefan complained. He steered Hubert aside by his elbow and the two monarchs walked off, bickering and gesticulating.
"Ah, don't be an old stick in the mud about it!"
"Who are you calling old? Have you looked in a mirror lately?"
Queen Leah gave the fairies a small, tired smile, still seated on her throne. "Truly, everything will be fine?" she asked.
"Yes, your majesty," said Flora. "You have our word."
"It's been so long. A mother can't help but worry, you know?"
Flora patted her hand. "Of course, dear. It's quite all right."
That night, like every night for the past sixteen years, many eyes in the Kingdom of Light turned to watch the southern horizon. On the eleventh hour, when the Forbidden Mountain crackled with lightning and the now-familiar echoing boom of thunder rolled across hills and fields, a collective sigh of relief was breathed.
Everyone knew that as long as Maleficent raged and seethed, she was unsuccessful in finding Princess Aurora. This night's storm, in all its fury and cacophony, was the most gratifying by far, for it meant her wicked prophecy had expired without coming to pass. The princess was alive and well, in love with her betrothed.
Against all odds, they had outsmarted the most powerful force of darkness in the land.
Good had triumphed against evil.
And so the royalty and nobility, gentry and townsfolk alike went to bed feeling reassured and complacent. Tomorrow would be a new day, full of promise for a bright future.
Rose awoke the next morning ravenously hungry. She gazed in confusion at an unfamiliar ceiling – vaulted stone, laced with cracks and mildew – until the previous day's events came back to her and she felt a rush of immense gladness to be awake at all. Rose sat up, shivering. The bedchamber was drafty, located at the top of a tower, its walls riddled with holes that let in the cold mountain air. She swung her feet to the bare floor and stood.
There was no way of judging what time it was, with only an overcast sky visible outside the lone window in the room and no sounds but the thin whistle of wind raking through the castle's many spires. Rose walked to the door, pressed her ear against the solid wood, and listened. Nothing. She straightened up, at a loss for what to do. Was she a captive or a guest? On the one hand, she hadn't been thrown into a dungeon cell. On the other hand, she hadn't exactly been given permission to wander the castle.
Rose turned the latch and was surprised to find it unlocked. It wouldn't do any harm just to take a peek at the hallway, would it? Cautiously, she pushed the door open on creaking hinges.
Still nothing. A curved wall of crumbling stones and an eroded spiral staircase greeted her. Rose took a wary step over the threshold–
–and was set upon by a gibbering, clawing mass of things that leapt from the shadows and grabbed her from every side, binding her hands and feet with rope, muffling her panicked scream with a strip of cloth pulled tight over her mouth.
Rose twisted and fought, trying to break free, and managed to discern her attackers were humanoid creatures that resembled animals of all shapes and sizes, bristling with sharp beaks and rough hides and yellowed fangs.
They hauled her down the stairs and across a series of open-air walkways, including one with a yawning gap underfoot that Rose thought – for a heart-stopping moment – she would lose her balance and fall through.
Wild speculation about where they were going ran rampant through Rose's mind. She was about to be tossed over the highest parapet. She was going to be cooked alive and eaten. A hysterical laugh bubbled up in her chest at the thought — she wouldn't make much of a meal, half-starved as she was.
But instead of any of those things, they passed through an archway, the door slamming shut behind her. Rose blinked. The room was large, furnished with a desk in one corner and armchairs in another, and littered with books that lay haphazardly across every available surface. Rose felt her limbs lock up with renewed terror when she caught sight of Maleficent. Her back to Rose, she had been moving through the room, picking up and shelving books.
Maleficent turned around at the interruption, book in hand. Annoyance flashed across her face when she saw Rose being dragged in.
"What's the meaning of this? Release her at once, you idiots," she said sharply. The creatures scrambled to do her bidding. "I told you to bring me the princess when she awoke, not to…" Maleficent frowned, tapping the book's cover with a fingernail. "Well. I suppose I did neglect to specify the manner in which she should be brought."
As the last of the ropes fell away from Rose, Maleficent set the book aside and approached her. Rose trembled, pulse quickening in what was becoming characteristic fashion whenever Maleficent drew near.
"I forget sometimes how disgracefully lacking my minions are in common sense," Maleficent said. She looked Rose up and down, then reached behind Rose's ears to untie the cloth binding her mouth.
Rose held her breath and tried to stay very, very still as Maleficent's hands grazed her hair. She wondered if her heart was hammering loudly enough to hear, but if it was, Maleficent made no indication of noticing.
"They are incapable of following any directions at all that are not spelled out in exhaustive detail. It is absolutely maddening," Maleficent continued. "There." She pulled away the cloth and stepped back, leaving Rose feeling inexplicably bereft.
Rose opened her mouth, realized she had no idea what to say, and shut it again in a rather accurate impersonation of a fish.
"What, has the cat got your tongue?" Maleficent inquired archly.
"I, wha-" Rose sputtered, regaining an ounce of indignation, "You asked for me to be brought here."
"So I did," Maleficent said. "I thought you might have more questions after last night. Or in general."
Oh. Rose did have questions, a great many questions, but had yet to figure out how to raise them without the possibility of provoking Maleficent's ire. She glanced around the room, trying to think of something harmless to ask, and found her attention drawn to the shelves of books flanking an empty fireplace on the far wall and a window on an adjacent one.
"Are all these yours?" Rose said, and immediately wanted to smack herself on the forehead for sounding so inane.
But Maleficent merely followed her gaze and replied, "They are."
Her fear from earlier fading, Rose looked longingly at the collection. She wondered what kinds of knowledge might be found within it. After she'd learnt her letters as a child, Rose had spent years poring over the same few cookbooks and instructional texts on sewing, crafting, gardening and the like her aunts kept around the cottage. Books containing actual stories were rare indeed, and those she read and re-read cover to cover until she knew her favorite fairy tales by heart. It was not enough to satisfy her curiosity about the world, and paled in comparison to the rows upon rows – from slender volumes to thick tomes – now stacked before her.
Several moments of silence crawled by before it occurred to Rose that Maleficent was not going to continue speaking, that Maleficent was in fact watching and waiting for her to respond.
"Ah," said Rose. "Can I…" she faltered, about to ask if she could borrow a book, but suddenly daunted by the prospect – it seemed beyond presumptuous to think such a request might be granted – and changed tack. "Can I help you with anything?"
Maleficent blinked at her. "I beg your pardon?"
"Around here, I mean. I'm really good at cleaning, and I couldn't help but notice that this place could use a little, well…"
Maleficent's eyes narrowed dangerously.
"Not- not that I think there's anything wrong with it!" Rose nearly tripped over herself to add. "It's a lovely castle—"
"Spare me your false niceties," Maleficent cut her off with a scowl. "I have little patience for that sort of drivel."
Rose bit her lip at the rebuke, face flushing.
Minions scurried out of Maleficent's path as she stalked over to the window. Once there, she looked outside, back turned to the room. She stood like that without another word for so long that Rose almost began to wonder if she'd forgotten Rose was still there. But then:
"Mort."
A potbellied, pig-like creature whose name was apparently Mort jumped to attention and waddled to Maleficent's side as fast as his stubby legs could carry him. "Yes, Mistress?" he said in a grunting, wheezy voice.
Maleficent turned away from the window to address him directly. "The castle is long past due for repairs," she said. "As the princess has so graciously volunteered herself for the task, you and your crew are to assist her in whatever manner she sees fit. You will follow all of her instructions in this regard. Understood?"
At once, more than half a dozen pairs of eyes trained on Rose, whose jaw dropped open in surprise.
Mort nodded vigorously. "Yah, yah, repair the castle. Do what the princess says." He reached up and straightened his helmet, which threatened to fall over his beady eyes from all the nodding. "Got it."
"But–" Rose started.
"Is there a problem?" said Maleficent.
"No! I just wasn't expecting-"
"Good. I'll not keep you from getting to it, then." Maleficent retrieved the book she'd been holding and swept from the room.
Rose stared after her, too stunned to move, unable to comprehend what had just happened. What was she supposed to do now? Was this a test of some sort? Maybe the curse had come true last night after all and this whole morning was nothing but a bizarre dream. That would certainly make more sense than… whatever this was. Somehow, every interaction with Maleficent left her in a state of greater bewilderment than the one before it.
"She hates being disturbed," Mort said from right behind her. Rose nearly jumped out of her skin. She whirled around to find the entire group had gathered before her in a half-circle, expressions ranging from curious to eager.
"Oh!" said Rose. She took a deep breath. "Right. So…"
"Mistress says you're gonna tell us how to fix the castle."
"But I don't know anything about…" Rose started to protest, but looked down at all the expectant faces and reconsidered. If this was indeed a test, then hadn't she better rise to the challenge? Maybe if she made herself useful enough, indispensable enough, she could avoid being, well, disposed of. That would be in her best interest, wouldn't it?
"I mean, yes, I suppose so," she said instead.
"Where do we start?" asked Mort.
"Yah, where do we start, where do we start?" echoed the others, bouncing and rattling in their armor.
Rose's stomach chose that exact moment to make itself known again with an almighty grumble. She blushed. When was the last time she'd eaten? A few handfuls of berries around noon the day before. Oh dear. She definitely needed to do something about that.
"How about…" Rose tilted her head and gave Mort her most charming smile. "How about we start with the kitchen?"
