Many thanks indeed for the reviews, and the follows - all much appreciated. On with the story, then. :)
Diaval remained at the back of the throne room, smiling as he watched Aurora and Philip mingling with their wedding guests. The young Queen had always had a sunny disposition, but today she looked especially happy, and rightly so. He had lost sight of Maleficent as she wandered further down the corridor, and he considered moving closer to the doorway so that he might be able to see her better. He decided against it, preferring instead to respect her privacy; she had wanted to be alone, after all. It was a decision he would come to bitterly regret.
As the young couple moved further down the room, Aurora spotted Diaval. He smiled, and winked at her. She grinned back, and began to approach him, but suddenly the celebratory atmosphere was shattered by the sound of an agonised scream coming from the nearby corridor and echoing around the large room; a cry of pain and fear that drew shocked gasps from everyone present. As quick as a flash, Diaval's gaze snapped from Aurora to the doorway. Mistress? With a cold dread welling up inside him, he ran over and looked into the corridor. Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw at the far end.
Maleficent was under attack.
Driven by panic and horror, Diaval began to run, faster than he'd ever run before, towards his mistress's assailant. He could hear her cries echoing through the corridor, but then they abruptly stopped. Just as the man was raising his weapon to strike another blow, Diaval reached him and grabbed hold of him, forcing him hard onto the floor and rendering him unconscious, his vicious assault halted.
Satisfied that the man would pose no further threat, Diaval quickly moved away from him and over to the stricken faerie, struggling to control his emotions as he saw what had happened to her. Kneeling beside her and searching desperately for any signs of life, he was immensely relieved to find a faint heartbeat and shallow breathing. He rapidly scanned the immediate area, wondering what sort of weapon could have inflicted such injuries, and it was only a few seconds before his eyes alighted on the bloodstained flail lying a few feet away. Utterly repulsed at the sight, he looked back at Maleficent, his heart breaking.
The sharp spikes had fulfilled their purpose, ripping through her face and leaving numerous livid gashes from which blood continued to seep, staining her neck and her elegant blue-green gown. Her horns were undamaged, but more blood was trickling from beneath her hair, on the left side of her head, and her left cheekbone had been severely crushed by the heavy impact of the flail, giving her face a distinctly uneven shape. As Diaval took in the extent of her wounds, feelings of guilt and helplessness threatened to overwhelm him. You needed me, and I wasn't there. I'm sorry, Mistress, I'm so sorry.
His troubled thoughts were interrupted by the sound of another terrified cry, and he looked up. Aurora had now seen what had happened, and was running as fast as she could towards the dreadful scene.
It was the happiest day of her life. As she looked up at her handsome new husband, and at the smiling faces of their guests, Aurora felt very fortunate, and couldn't help smiling back at everyone as she mingled with them, wanting them all to share in her joy. Glancing towards the back of the room, she spotted Diaval, his dark, distinctive appearance easily distinguishing him from the other guests, patiently waiting for his turn to congratulate the newlyweds. She saw him smile and wink at her, in his usual friendly manner, and she grinned back at him. At the same time, she noticed that he was alone, and she wondered where Maleficent was; she had promised she would be there today. She began to approach Diaval, in order to greet him and enquire as to the whereabouts of her Godmother, but she was stopped in her tracks as her question was answered in the worst possible way. Her smile instantly vanished as she heard the agonised cry that echoed around the room; a sound with which she was all too familiar, and the like of which she had never wanted to hear again. Godmother?
She saw Diaval run towards the doorway, and then out into the corridor. She quickly followed him, with Philip close behind her, and looked in the direction Diaval had gone. By then the screams had stopped, but she was confronted by the most distressing sight imaginable. For a moment she froze, barely able to believe what she was seeing, and then she started to run. Her concerned husband tried to hold her back, but she wouldn't be restrained, and she ran down the corridor, as fast as her long, elaborate wedding gown would allow.
"Godmother!"
Wanting to minimise the young Queen's anguish, Diaval attempted to dissuade her from approaching. "Aurora, don't come down here. You shouldn't have to see this." But his plea went unheeded. As she knelt down beside Maleficent, copious tears fell at the sight of the injuries to her face.
"Diaval, what happened? Who has done this?"
He inclined his head towards the unconscious man lying nearby. "He did it, with that...thing." He had no idea what the weapon was called; he just knew that he never wanted to see anything like it ever again. Aurora looked at her Godmother's attacker with loathing. Glancing briefly at the bloodstained flail, she was as repulsed by it as Diaval had been.
She looked back at Maleficent, and a horrible thought struck her. "Diaval, she's not...she can't be...?" She couldn't bring herself to say the awful word.
He shook his head. "No, she's alive, but she needs help, now." As he said this, he looked meaningfully at Aurora. Breathing an audible, shaky sigh of relief, she nodded and stood up, her expression hardening as she wiped away her tears. By this time, three guards had arrived, having finally been alerted to what was happening. Looking and sounding every inch the Queen she was, despite her tears, Aurora addressed them.
"Take this man to the cells. He shall be dealt with in due course." Two of the guards complied, lifting the unconscious assailant and part carrying, part dragging him away between them. Aurora turned to the third guard. "Have the court physician sent to my former bedchamber at once. We shall meet him there. Tell him his assistance is urgently required, and tell him why." The guard bowed and left.
She turned back to Diaval, her expression softening again. "We must take Godmother to my old room. Can you carry her?" He nodded, a little apprehensively. "Yes, I think so." He had never carried his mistress before, or ever had much physical contact with her; she had rarely allowed it, and he had always respected her wishes. Tenderly, he gathered her in his arms and carefully lifted her off the floor. As he set off after Aurora, who was leading the way, it occurred to him that Maleficent was surprisingly heavy for one so slender, but he soon realised that this was due not to her physique, but to her wings. With no support from their unconscious owner, they hung limply to the floor, their weight destabilising him, and their trailing tips threatening to trip him up with every other hurried step.
Increasingly afraid that he would stumble and drop his precious burden, he called to the young Queen, who was a little way ahead of him. "Aurora, can you lift her wings? If I trip over them, I could drop her." As anxious as he to prevent such an outcome, she complied at once, moving alongside him and lifting the limp wings well out of the way, supporting their weight as she did so. His progress no longer impeded, Diaval quickened his pace, keen to get Maleficent the help she so badly needed as soon as possible. Philip followed close behind them, wanting to be there for his new wife and to provide as much as comfort and support as she needed. In the now silent throne room, the wedding guests looked uneasily at one another. The celebrations were clearly over.
As ordered, the court physician was waiting by the door to Aurora's former bedchamber when the small group finally arrived there. Bowing to the King and Queen, he opened the double doors and stood aside to allow them and Diaval to enter the room first. Diaval quickly made his way to the large, canopied bed towards the back of the room and very gently laid Maleficent on its soft mattress, with Aurora carefully arranging her wings on either side of her, and adjusting the pillows to accommodate her horns. His task completed, and almost in tears, Diaval leaned against one of the bedposts at the foot of the bed and gazed sadly at his unconscious mistress. She was so still. The only visible sign of life was the barely perceptible rise and fall of her chest with each shallow breath.
Glancing briefly around the room, he instantly recognised it as being the room in which, two years earlier, he and Maleficent had found Aurora in her cursed sleep, lying on the very same bed on which the wounded faerie now lay. The tragic irony of the situation was not lost on him. Neither was it lost on Aurora, who was standing beside him, leaning back against Philip who was just behind her, with his comforting arms wrapped around her. In sadness and utter bewilderment, the three of them looked at one another, and then back at Maleficent. Only she knew the answer to the one question that was on their minds.
Why?