Three
There were thousands of them. Line after line of glittering armour stretched back as far as the eye could see to meld with the distant horizon, solid formation broken only by the harsh wooden exoskeletons of the catapults. Maleficent felt her skin crawl unpleasantly. No doubt they had brought every scrap of iron to be had with them. Vividly she remembered the agony of the iron net, and the terrible sensation of having her powers drained from her, leaving only weakness and confusion. Stefan had had 16 years to prepare, and even without him they were ready for her.
At the front of the lines were the nobles, those who had sat on Stefan's war councils and ran his country whilst he was lost to madness. Some were old and frail, and looked as though a gust of wind could blow them to dust; others looked only several years older than Aurora. She wondered which of them she truly needed to fear.
"There are so many…" Aurora said awestruck. She had shielded herself behind Maleficent's outstretched wing and was clutching at it so hard that it hurt.
"They must have drafted in the peasants," Maleficent said uncertainly. "That's the only way they could possibly have got so many men…" Either way it did not bode well for her. Having amassed so large an army their aim was surely more than the retrieval of the princess. They wanted her head.
"What do we do?"
"Stay in their sight," Maleficent replied reluctantly. "If they know that you're here, then they won't risk attacking me." She loathed the thought of using the girl as a shield, but it was her best option. Although she wanted desperately to carry Aurora back to the safety of her tree, she could not forget that the girl was her only hope. She was the only person in this world who could end the war and save the moors.
"Will you fight them?"
"If I have to. But there are too many, and my wings…."
"Give us the princess!"
One of the nobles, a middle aged man with an auburn beard frosted with white, had ridden forward several paces and now sat proudly in the saddle, staring hard at her. Maleficent ignored him.
"I cannot take down an entire army…"
"But the creatures? You said that they fought with you before?"
Maleficent shook her head. "I will not risk their lives." This was her fight. She had brought the army here and it was she alone that bore responsibility for its wrath. She had inflicted enough pain on the moors and had no right to ask them for anything. She drew herself up to full height, pulling her wings up against her shoulders.
"Leave!"
"We have come to claim back our princess and our lands…!"
"Your princess?" Maleficent hissed angrily "Your lands?"
Anger coiled within her stomach, so tight that she could barely breathe. Greed and arrogance. Ambition and vanity. The humans came and they stole. They destroyed. What they could not get by brute force they got through deceit. The gluttony of humans had taken everything from her, and still they came for more.
"You shall have nothing more from me! Not while I still breathe."
"That will not be for long." He smiled and the sound of laughter ran across the field. Cruel. Bloodthirsty. These were creatures who thrived on war and death.
"Oh? Really? You would risk the life of your future queen? Spare me your threats!"
"Better dead than in the clutches of a creature such as you!"
For the first time Maleficent faltered. Of course. She had underestimated the humans again. After all, when the old king had died without an heir they had got a new one easily enough. Aurora was expendable to them. They would save her if they could, but should it prove impossible they would rather have a dead witch than a live princess.
"Go," she said softly. She turned to Aurora to see the girl looking fearfully up at her. "I will not risk your life. Go."
"But they'll attack you…."
"They'll attack me anyway. I will not have you here when that happens."
"I won't leave you!"
"You are no use to me here, Aurora!" Maleficent said desperately. She saw her flinch. "If you are with me then I have to focus on protecting you. Your use is in diplomacy. Not in war."
Aurora hesitated. She looked out at the vast army, then back to Maleficent. "Don't fight them, then. I'll talk to them, make them understand. But they won't listen to me if you're killing them."
"As you wish." Maleficent whispered. She had tried it her way and brought chaos. What choice did she have now but to trust in Aurora? "Go to them. But remember that you are their queen. They are your subjects. And you are far stronger than you, or any one of them could imagine."
Aurora touched her arm gently. She smiled and in the smile Maleficent saw a thousand unspoken things. Worry. Concern. Love. A desperate plea for Maleficent to trust in her. Maleficent nodded stiffly back, and watched in terror as the one she loved most in the world left her side and began to walk towards the army.
When they saw the princess begin to approach the men looked at each other in confusion. Several of them bent their heads together, no doubt hurriedly conferring as to why the witch would allow her prize to escape. Maleficent spared them no more than a glance. Her attention was focused on Aurora, who had never seemed so small or so fragile. With every step she took, Maleficent's fear grew, until it was all that she could do to remain still and not fly to the her side.
When Aurora was perhaps 20 feet away she finally came to a stop. She was too far away for Maleficent to even hope of reaching her, but that did not stop her wings from twitching with the desperate urge to fly. Slowly the girl dipped into a deep curtsey. Once again the men exchanged glances, and then the spokesman put his hand on his sternum and bent forward in a half bow.
"Princess. I am Lord James. I was your father's chief advisor."
"It is an honour, sir." Aurora replied. Her voice sounded so fragile that even with her heightened hearing Maleficent could only just catch her words.
"Have you been harmed?"
"No. She would never-"
"I'm glad to hear it. Come with me, quickly." He leant down slightly, extending his hand to her. "I'll get you to safety."
"No. You don't understand-"
"Princess, please. You are safe now. She cannot hurt you anymore. I want to take you home."
"No…"
But the man would not listen. Ignoring her protests he spurred his horse on towards her and shouted. "Kill the witch!"
Aurora's protests were drowned out by the sudden clamour of thousands of shouts, the bleating of horns and clanging of armour clad men. Before Maleficent could react the catapults shot upwards and fire streamed across the sky. They came in one great, endless wave. The sky was blotted out by arrows. Quickly Maleficent raised her hand, gold light erupted from it, pounding out across the sky to meet the hail of arrows. The fireballs hit the wall with a terrible noise. Maleficent glanced round. The wall was burning. The fires needed to be quenched before they could do too much damage…
"No! No! Maleficent!"
Maleficent was in the air in seconds, shooting upwards before she could consider her actions. Aurora needed her. In the distance she could see two men wrestling to get the flailing girl onto the back of a horse, desperate to get her out of the army's way.
"No! Maleficent!"
Maleficent barely made it halfway into the air. The arrows slammed into her, before she had even noticed them, tearing at her clothes, puncturing her wings and driving her back to the ground with more force than she could have imagined possible. Everything was a terrible, burning agony, pain so vast it seemed endless. She hit the ground before she realised that she had been falling.
For a second she lay there, stunned, the ground pounding beneath her with the momentum of thousands of men. The screams brought her back – terrible desperate screams. By the time she could manage to ease herself into a crouch Aurora was gone, swept away by the never ending sea of men. All that was left was her slowly dwindling cries. Maleficent snarled. She forced herself to ignore the agony in her wings and launched herself into the air, shooting upwards with as much speed as she could muster, desperate to get above the reach of the arrows. Several managed to strike her before she was high enough, dodging through the magical barrier she hastily erected. She screamed as one caught her leg.
Everything was pain and confusion and noise. She could not see Aurora anywhere. She was far beyond her reach, and there were now 5,000 men between her and the girl. With a small noise of despair she tore her eyes away. Arrows shot up, none of them able to reach her. Men were pouring towards the wall of thorns, brandishing swords and spears and spears and axes/
How she longed to kill them.
It didn't matter if she could not kill them all. She could kill enough. Tear the bastards to shreds for daring to threaten her home and get between her and Aurora. But that was not what Aurora wanted. And this war was no longer hers to orchestrate. The pain in her wings was nothing to the pain of turning her back on the screams and diving behind the safety of the wall, leaving the girl to fend for herself.
They were waiting for her. Diaval flapped frantically around her head the minute she landed, cawing in distress. Balthazar, Memnoch and the other guardians stood half hidden amongst the trees, waiting for her orders.
"Do not attack them!" She ordered as she crashed to the ground.
Memnoch gave a roar of anger while Balthazar strode forward, arguing.
"You heard me!" She snarled furiously. She had fallen into an undignified heap, legs useless, wings nothing but pain. "We are doing this Aurora's way and she has ordered that we do not attack the humans. Defend the wall, do not let them through, but do not kill them unless you have no other choice."
Balthazar starred at her for a long moment. She met his gaze, unwavering, daring him to challenge her. After a moment he nodded, and the guardians strode off to defend the wall.
"Into a man," she said, without looking up. Her attention was focused on her wounds. The arrows were all iron, of course. She could feel them burning into her flesh.
"The princess…"
"Don't start, Diaval! I have no time for your tongue. Help me get these damn things out of me so I can defend the wall." She was shaking, entire body shuddering uncontrollably. She ran her hands over the wounds, and by the time she began to pull the arrows from her body her hands were slick with dark blood.
For a moment Diaval did nothing. Then, with obvious displeasure, he began to carefully inspect the wound on her leg.
Maleficent was not gentle with herself. Many of the arrows that had pierced her wings had stuck fast in the feathers. Each one she pulled it out without regard to the pain, gritting her teeth to swallow the screams.
"What are you doing, Diaval!" She spat, when he had spent several minutes prodding her leg. "Get the damn thing out."
"You need to rest," he replied disapprovingly.
"There are 5,000 men out there who want my head. Now is not the time for a nap!"
She yanked an arrow out from her ribs and could not contain the scream.
Thankfully faeries heal fast. Once the arrows were pulled from her, the flesh began to heal itself almost instantaneously. Though she felt weak, and every single movement hurt she could at least fly without bleeding to death.
She spent what remained of the day soaring back and forth over the wall, healing where healing was needed, and fortifying where it seemed they would break through. The only time she attacked was to take down the catapults. After several hours, they were nothing but splintered heaps of wood, and the men had nothing but their swords and axes and whatever arrows remained to them. She tried to keep out of the arrows reach, and was often able to deflect any that would have reached her. Still a good many managed to hit when she was invariably distracted, and with every wound her body was forced to heal, she felt herself grow weaker.
Night fell eventually and the ground became a sea of fire. It took all of her effort to prevent the wall from catching. She would be defending one section, only to realise that another was in desperate need of aid. And always she was careful not to allow herself to harm them. The anger festered in her stomach, poisoning her and still she did not strike against the men who threatened her home. She thought of Aurora often, but the thoughts were fleeting. Before she could worry for more than a heartbeat she was called to help defend another section of the wall.
The next morning brought more catapults and more arrows. Once, when she finally descended, riddled with arrows, Diaval joked that she would soon have far more feathers than he had ever had. She had bit her tongue to prevent herself from taking out her anger on him.
The second day wore on in pain and exhaustion. The humans were a determined race. Although they could not gain any ground, and never once broke through the wall, they nevertheless persisted. Perhaps the lack of aggression spurred them on. Maleficent timed the hours in beats of her wing and jolts of pain. There was nothing else. By the end of the second day she could think of nothing. Everything was pain and exhaustion. Even if she had wanted to attack, she doubted that she had the strength for it. All she could do was hope that the girl would save her once again.
They did not stop until the end of the third day. When the horns sounded and the cry of 'retreat' swept through the lines she did not believe it. She lingered in the air, wings straining to keep her aloft, entire body in the agony of exhaustion. Only when they disappeared over the horizon and the last of the daylight vanished did she allow herself to fall to the earth.
Agony. She did not know how many wounds still remained, or whether arrows still feathered her body. Exhaustion. She could not remember the last time she had slept, or rested for more than a moment. Starvation. She remembered when she had last eaten. It was when Aurora had pressed blackberries to her lips, smiling. Maleficent could not even bring herself to worry about the girl. It must have been her who recalled the army. She could believe nothing else.
For a long while she lay on the ground, beside the wall, listening to the silence. She would not sleep until she was safely in her tree, but without the adrenaline that had fuelled her for the past three days she didn't have the strength.
Eventually Diaval found her.
"Mistress!" He called through the trees. "Mistress!"
"Diaval," she said simply. The stars crawled over the sky. The ground swayed. The air smelt of smoke and fire. She felt Diaval beside her, one hand on her shoulder, another gently wiping something from her cheek.
"What do you need?" He asked.
Maleficent laughed and replied "Legs."
The earth spun as he walked. Every time her wings scraped against the ground he would apologise. She barely noticed. She could barely feel his arms, or his rhythmic footsteps that sent strangely distant jolts down her body.
When he put her down in boughs of the tree she curled onto her side, drawing her wings over her face to hide her from everything.
"Thank you," she said softly.
She thought that she heard him reply, but the words were lost as she spiralled down into a deep sleep.
Aurora could not see the fighting from her bedroom window, but she could see the smoke. Every so often a black speck would appear in the sky, and Aurora would peer frantically at it, trying desperately to see whether it was Maleficent. The speck was always too far. It could have been a sparrow for all she knew.
She had begged them to stop. Over and over again she had begged them. They insisted that she was confused, that she was 'under the witches spell' or that she was too young to understand the ways of war. They would not accept that it had been Maleficent who had saved her.
For days she barely slept and barely ate. Every time she fell asleep she was tormented with dreams of the men bringing Maleficent's body back to the castle. Sometimes it was unscathed, so that the faery appeared only to be sleeping. The only difference was that when Aurora cried and begged for her to wake up Maleficent would not respond. Other times they brought her back in pieces. A man would bring in her wings, still fluttering grotesquely as they had been in her father's cabinet when she had first found them. He would present them to her like trophies and then he would turn and behind him was another man, this time bearing her head.
In a way she was glad that the fighting continued. Every time the men came back, shouting that they needed more more arrows, or spears, or axes she knew that Maleficent was alive. And she knew that Maleficent was doing what she asked. It was driving them mad. Over and over again the men of the counsel shouted furiously about why the 'witch' was not fighting. Some of them thought it was a trick – a terrible trap. Others thought her a coward. Aurora had argued furiously against both to little avail. She had tried to explain that Maleficent was doing as she had asked, but the men just smiled and suggested that 'her highness was tired'.
As the days had dragged by the reports had gotten worse. The men coming in from the field reported that 'the witch' was clearly injured or exhausted. Whilst they had not yet broken through the wall they were slowly getting further and further each time before 'the witch' managed to repair the damage. Aurora was terrified.
Eventually, Lord Rupert, a sallow man who always looked at Aurora in a way that reminded her of a cat eying a mouse, came striding into the small hall to report that he had seen a spear hit 'the witch' hard and that she had not been seen since. It had been all that she could do to choke down the scream and stifle her cries before the men could see them. She clutched the arm of her chair so hard that her knuckles ached and bit the inside of her lip until she could no longer stand the pain. While the man nattered on about the possibility of 'the witch' being dead, Aurora steeled herself.
Maleficent needed her. She had told her that she was the one person who had any hope of ending this war and saving the moors. Whether or not Maleficent was alive, everything came down to Aurora managing to convince the counsellors to stop the fighting.
Slowly she drew herself up in her chair. Although she was seated at the centre of the long table, none of the men were looking at her. They were all too busy focusing on their heated debate. She imagined Maleficent. How she would raise her chin and look around the room as though the men were hardly worth her time. How when she spoke, she did not allow for the possibility that others would not listen. How she could dismiss someone with a simple rise of an eyebrow.
Aurora took several deep breaths. Her heart was pounding so fast that she could hear it.
"Enough." By some miracle her voice didn't shake. It cut through the gruff voices of the men and echoed around the hall. One by one they all fell silently. They turned to face her expectantly, "Maleficent is not dead-"
At once Lord Rupert began to argue. The spear had hit her stomach, she had gone down, she had not been seen since. The same arguments he had been using for the past hour. Aurora raised her chin and started at him. When he finally paused for breath mid-tirade she jumped at her chance to speak.
"So you mean to tell me that despite my having grown up in the moors, with Maleficent, you know her better than me?" Aurora felt as though she was going to throw up.
His dense eyebrows pulled together for a moment. "With all due respect, princess, I do not expect you to understand-"
"I am not a child, Lord Rupert. I am your future queen."
He fixed her with a stare that was no doubt supposed to scare her. Aurora almost laughed. She had spent the past year with Maleficent. If she could endure her glares, then she could certainly endure this mans.
"My apologies, your highness, but…"
"Thank you. But with all due respect, my lord, I do not expect you to understand Maleficent."
"The witch can be killed with iron…."
"I have told you not to refer to her as a witch. I shall have you remember that."
I will be their queen. I will be their queen. I will be their queen.
For a moment his face contorted, as though trying desperately to contain his anger. Aurora imagined how Maleficent would raise her chin and flick her eyebrow at the man and tried desperately to do the same. She hoped that it didn't look as ridiculous as she felt.
"As you wish." Lord Rupert said eventually with a small reluctant incline of the head. "But nevertheless iron-"
"Irritates her, yes, but little more" Aurora lied. "Do not believe everything my father told you. His mind was twisted by hatred,"
"King Stefan won a great victory by removing the creature's wings." The voice came from somewhere down the table. Aurora glared in the general direction.
"He drugged a woman who trusted him, and mutilated her whilst she slept. If that is a victory, then I pray that I am never victorious. Maleficent has saved my life many times. Even now, when you threaten her home she has not harmed you."
"Tricks. No doubt she is planning some sorcery."
"She is giving me time to find a diplomatic solution,"
"What would a creature such as she know of diplomacy!" Lord Rupert sneered.
"All that she wants is to be left in peace. If you continue to provoke her she will be forced to fight back to protect her people."
"If we do leave her in peace, then what? We just allow the creature who killed King Henry and King Stefan, and who cursed our princess to live! How long until she comes back for more blood."
"She will not harm me. I have tod you this a dozen times, but you refuse to listen."
"So what do you suggest we do?"
"We try diplomacy. We invite her here, under the banner of peace with the assurance that no one shall harm her. That way she can explain the truth to you, and we can begin to work out a peace treaty between us and the moors…"
Lord Rupert slammed his fist down on the table. "Your fathers dedicated his life to fighting that creature and her moors!"
"And it drove him mad. I know who my father was." Just thinking about him made Aurora want to cry. He was the man who gave her life, and yet he had been the cause of so much pain.
"She will kill us all."
"She won't. All she wants is peace. It was my father she wanted revenge on and he is dead."
"I think the princess has a point." Aurora looked around hopefully. Lord Thomas was the only member of the counsel who had shown her any form of kindness so far. He had actually listened to her when the others just scoffed.
At once half a dozen men leapt in to argue.
"I will be heard!" Lord Thomas bellowed. "We cannot afford to anger this Maleficent. We can't begin to guess the extent of her powers. She has not attacked our men, despite being gravelly injured. If she was planning a trap she would have used it by now. And what are the moors to us?"
"So you would allow the creature who killed our king and cursed our princess to live?"
"If anyone has a right to revenge it is the princess. Is that what you wish, princess?"
"No. I have seen what revenge can do. Maleficent is my friend, my godmother. I want us to live in peace with her."
"Surely it would not hurt to negotiate, gentleman? After all, should she decide to attack there is little any of us can do. It is our duty to prevent further bloodshed. I vote that we call in the men."
They argued for a few minutes, but eventually they agreed, most of them with obvious reluctance. It was decided that Maleficent would be called to court tomorrow and in the meantime the army would withdraw. Lord Rupert declared them all fools and snarled at Aurora that she had 'doomed their kingdom' before striding off. Lord Thomas paused by her chair and put a friendly hand on her shoulder.
"I hope you know what you're doing, princess."
"I do," she replied, confidently. "Thank you for helping me."
He smiled at her. It was the first real smile she had seen in days. "My pleasure, my lady."
Aurora left the room feeling strangely lightheaded. Her throat was dry and her heart still thumped painfully against her ribs. She would not consider the fact that Lord Rupert was right and Maleficent was already dead. It couldn't be true. Not after she had finally achieved what Maleficent had wanted of her.
"Princess Aurora!"
Aurora spun round. Phillip was striding towards her, smiling nervously.
"May we talk?"
"Of course," Her heart seemed to quicken its beat, and suddenly her stomach felt as though she had swallowed another mouthful of spiders.
"In private?"
Aurora hesitated and then said "The gardens are beautiful. Would you care to see them,"
"Allow me to escort you," He held out his arm and Aurora slipped her hand over her elbow, feeling a strange thrill. They didn't speak as they crossed the entrance hall and slipped down the stone steps. The gardens were small and surrounded by stone walls, but they were the only greenery to be found. Aurora hated how neat they were, as though someone spent hours trying to tame it every day. They wandered over to a stone bench and sat down.
"I've wanted to talk to you for a while, actually."
"Really?" Aurora smiled.
"I wanted to apologise."
"For what?"
"While you were asleep I…" he looked at her nervously, cheeks flushing. "I kissed you. The pixies told me that you were cursed, and that if I kissed you, you would wake up," He smiled bashfully. "Ridiculous, I know…"
"It worked." Aurora said. Phillip looked up in surprise. "My godmother was there. She said I woke up after you kissed me. It just took a little while to work."
"Oh." Phillip flushed an even deeper shade of scarlet. "Oh."
"Thank you. For saving me."
"It was my pleasure." He replied. Then his face fell. "Not that-I didn't mean-It was pleasant, kissing you, I mean. But you were asleep, and-"
Aurora laughed. "I understand."
"Perhaps we could see each other again? I would be delighted to get to know you better."
Aurora smiled, and the sensation of spiders crawling around her stomach increased. "So would I."
