IMPORTANT NOTICE:
I'm not sure if everyone has realised, but i have drastically revised chapter 3- characters have been removed, others will make later appearances and some have had one or two things quirked in themselves. Please do reread that chapter if you haven't already before starting this one, and do tell me which version you prefer :)
Thanks guys, now onto chapter 4 (I own nothing):
"How was your hunting trip, Papa?"
Aurora shut the door quietly, and walked to where her father was seated at his desk.
"Fine, girl, fine." He murmured. When she didn't take her leave, he looked up "Is there something you need?"
"N-Nothing, Papa, I was just- I was wondering, I-"
"Out with it, girl, I have many important matters to attend to."
"Have you ever been in love?"
The quill dropped from his hand and splattered ink over his messy writing. Stefan looked up, and incredulous look on his face.
"What?"
"I was just wondering- I want to know what it feels like, so that I am prepare if I'm ever to; d-did you love my mother?"
"She was a good woman."
"But did you love her? Was there anyone you truly loved?"
Stefan rose, and Aurora took an involuntary step backwards. If he noticed her, the king didn't let it be known.
"What is bringing this on, Aurora?" His voice was quiet, scarily calm. The princess swallowed, wondering if this really was a good idea. It was a wonder how someone could be so afraid of their own father.
"Nothing, nothing at all, I was just wondering-"
"Wondering what, exactly."
"I was just- I want to know why Maleficent cursed me."
A silence descended, save for the ragged sounds of Stefan's deep intake of breaths. His left hand flexed and fisted, the creaks of his metal glove echoing through the quiet room.
"And what makes you connect love and that demon?" his voice was soft, eerily so. Aurora stepped back, but the ground and more was made up by her father "Well?" he asked again when he was met with silence.
"I-I just, I believe that the curse was an act of revenge, that it was because you two were once in love-"
Aurora heard the contact of metal against skin. Her vision blurred, then focused, her gaze meeting the stone wall to her left before the pain blossomed and branched around her cheek and lip. She opened her mouth in a silent gasp as she brought her hand to her face.
"Don't you ever say anything like that to me again, do you understand? Leave, this instant." Stefan's voice was low, dangerous and promised more of what he had just dealt. Aurora was rooted to the ground a second longer before turning, stumbling on her feet as she rushed away from the office.
The princess ran the way back to her room, slamming the door and locking it before slumping to the ground. Her hand was sticky against her cheek, and she brought it away; her fingers were stained a light red. A gurgling sob burst from her throat as she tried, in vain, to keep her tears at bay.
Three sharp raps sounded above her, and Aurora jumped, frightened.
"Princess? Open up." Even the familiar voice didn't shake the blonde.
"Diaval, not now- just go, please."
There was a pause, and she hoped that the raven-man had left. The princess walked to her mirror and silently took in her state. There was an angry gash on her cheek, not very large, but quite deep judging from the amount of blood still trailing dark lines against her pallor.
"What did I do, Aurora? Because you've suddenly just…what did I do, so that I can apologise, at least."
"Please, not now. I want to be alone." Aurora pleaded. Her voice caught and she choked it back. More tears clouded her vision from the effort. Diaval let out an angry grunt from the other side of the door.
"This isn't fair on me. You can't just-"
"Leave me alone, Diaval!" she cried, hurling her brush at the door. Wood crashed against wood and there was a gasp from the other side.
After some silence, Diaval's footsteps faded away.
Aurora slid to the floor, allowing herself to cry.
.oOo.
"Father, are you free to talk?"
George looked up, surprised to see his son so flustered.
"Of course, sit down. You look like you need a drink." He observed, gesturing to the porcelain jug on a small round table. Phillip strode to it, and poured a hearty mugful of the alcohol before taking a large swig off it.
"I was exploring, after the hunt. And I was walking along the east wing, and I stumbled upon a lonesome spiral staircase. It was dark, and looked well used and in disrepair-"
"There is no need for all the detail. What's your point, Phillip?"
"I climbed it- it lead to a small, lone room. No windows, other than a small rectangle, like those in prisons, high- a mere thumb's width from the ceiling, and no entryways other than the small door I almost didn't see-"
"Again, Phillip, what is your point? You overcame your fear of the dark at least a decade ago."
"No it isn't that, Father- it's what was in it." He sat down heavily on the settee, looking at his father "Go on, then. Ask me what was in there."
"What was in the room, son."
"A cage, father. A long, glass rectangular prison embraced by the thickest chain I've laid my eyes upon; and you won't believe what prisoner was trapped in there."
"Who?"
"Not who, Father, what. Remember how Kai was so adamant about Maleficent being a fairy? I think I found her wings."
At this, the king sat up straighter.
"Pardon?"
"You heard me perfectly, Father."
"Are you certain?"
"Of course, I am absolutely certain. They were large- the wingspan could've easily been twice my height."
"Why would it-"
"That's what I was wondering, and then I realised: maybe that King Stefan wanted an extra souvenier for himself. Father, I don't think a union with him is safe for our kingdom. I fear him to be unstable- especially about magic."
George sighed, then, shaking his head.
"I'm disappointed in you, son."
Phillip exclaimed in surprise.
"Excuse me?"
"Maybe the king is slightly off, but that is not a good enough excuse to get you out of this engagement."
"Father, this isn't about me-"
"I know you don't want to marry the princess, but this kingdom ensures security of ours, and one day, you will be king of both the lands. There is no bad outcome in this choice."
"Look at how this kingdom treats non-human folk. Now, they are stronger than our kingdom, and as long as that tyrant is in rule, a 'union' means he has control over us. Imagine what would happen to our magic population then."
"The decision is final, Phillip."
"But Father-"
"No. That's enough."
Phillip let exclaimed angrily, once again, and pushed himself of the settee roughly.
"Who's the girl?" George asked, breaking the tense silence.
He turned back to his father, surprised. The elder version of himself looked up at him, a knowing expression marking his brown face.
"What do you mean?"
"Who's the girl, Phillip?"
"No one important." Phillip lied, sitting back down "For her respect, I don't want to mention her name."
"Is she important? Do you properly care for her?"
"I may be in love with her."
George gave an almighty sigh. There was sympathy in his expression.
"When your mother and I were engaged, I was in love with another. We planned to elope, and we almost did. It was almost five years into our marriage before I truly loved you mother."
"And what happen to the other girl?"
"I suggest you end things with this woman as soon as possible, son. I undertand what you are going through, and through past experience, this is the best option."
"She's the only one whom I can truly trust with everything."
"All the more reason to let her go. You are a crown prince- your nation comes before your own wants."
Phillip looked away biting his lip. George watched his son, reminded of when he was a confused, frightened boy afraid to sleep in the dark, alone.
"There is another way to keep both nation and personal affairs" he said "But I don't recommend it," he added watching his son turn eagerly to him.
"What is it?"
"As a king, as a man, especially during travels, when your wife cannot be with you; or when she is with child…" he trailed of as Phillip's eyes widened with realisation.
"But that, that is not much better-"
"There can be official mistresses," George said, flinging the word like it could be used in casual circumstances, as if this conversation was a casual circumstance "and they are seen as noblewomen, a server to the Royal Court-"
"Never. She and I would never consent."
"There is no other way. Sometimes, she doesn't have to consent."
"That is disgusting- she is not an object to take choice from. What did you do, father? With your woman?"
"It is how the world works, my boy- as for my escapades: they ended when we both matured enough to understand we lived in different worlds that would cause catastrophe if they collided, not only to ourselves, but those around us. I have given you my options- take, or leave, them. I will support you, as long as it doesn't interfere with the more important matters at hand."
Phillip stood, at even more unease than when he first entered.
"This has nothing to do with her, but this marriage, this union- something is going to happen, Father, and It will be something bad."
Phillip left the room as if the air were toxic.
When his son was gone, George took a hold of his unfinished drink and gulped the rest down, before going back to his work. It didn't matter what this kingdom was like, as long as his son could get to the throne, the land he was living in would become theirs anyway.
.oOo.
Wind whistled softly against Keaira's face. She felt the fabric of her cotton blouse flapped backwards like a cape from her waist to kneecaps. Up on the torrents she was on the wind was strongest and at its coldest but she fought her need to cover herself.
"What are you doing here?"
Keaira whipped around, surprised. In her thoughtful state she didn't hear the man climb up behind her through the trapdoor. He spoke in an accusing tone, but he stood paces behind her, directly next to the trapdoor. Keaira's eyes narrowed; he was being cautious.
Good.
"What are you doing here?" she mimicked back at him, folding her arms under her chest. She didn't miss his momently-distracted gaze; and made it a point that he realised that.
"I come up here sometimes. Nice view." He said finally, diverting his gaze guiltily.
"I'm sure." Keaira squinted up at the much taller man as her hair whipped into her face. Strands had come loose from her ponytail and stuck against her cheek and eyes. Turning around, she climbed one of the troughs of the walls and sat, legs dangling over empty space.
"What are you doing?" she heard the man ask behind her, his voice high-pitched with surprise.
"I'm sitting."
"You could fall."
"I'm don't care much for falling, but I'm not afraid to. I don't think you are either. Are you?"
With a sigh, the man strode over to her, and mirrored her movements on the trough next to hers; she lost view of him between he stone extension between them.
"Since you're here in my space we may as well not make it awkward." Kaeira continued casually, leaning back on her elbows. The sky was beginning to glow with oranges that splashed against the receding blue. "You don't like me. Why?"
There was a pause "I know what you are."
"Oh? And what am I, exactly?"
"You have magic."
"And so do you- does that mean you hate yourself?"
"What? No."
"Well, your reason for not liking me is that I have magic, is it not?"
"You know what I am, and who I serve. And if you are against her-"
"No, see here is my problem." Kaeira kept her eyes trained on the sunset. There were only hints that the sky was once the colour of cornflower "I know what you are- but who do you serve, truly, because a familiar is to stay by his Master or Mistress's side, always, until death."
"I am."
"Are you trying to convince me the young princess is your Mistress? I do not take kindly to lies."
"I am not- it is complicated."
"From here it seems like your Mistress cursed the princess, but for some reason it is her and not Aurora who is comatose, and coincidentally, you are by the princess's side at the present."
"How dare you accuse me of defying and betraying my Mistress?" Keaira noted the anger in his tone. She turned her head, finding him stood behind her, fists clenched and body tense.
"I am just stating what I observe, and placing it with the facts I have already learned." She stated calmly, turning around and gracefully hopping of her seat.
"Then you haven't learnt all the facts."
"What do you mean?" Keaira's eyes narrowed. The man let out a sarcastic chuckle. The black hair whipped away from his pale face.
"Seems like you don't have all the facts."
"Listen. I am not here to play games with you. As fun as this was, remember that I am the more powerful one, and I can smite you with a snap of my fingers. Do you understand?" said Kaeira, standing close enough to the man to know he smelled like soap and freshly grinded nuts. He glared at her, before looking away with a resigned sigh.
"She took the curse for herself because she grew to care for Aurora. That's all I can say without telling you a sixteen year story."
She took the curse for herself.
"You'd better not be lying to me."
"I swear to you, I am not."
Keaira brought her hand to her mouth and lodged her ring finger between her lips. This changed many things now. She looked up at Diaval, who was merely staring at her with a wary gaze, as she chewed on her nail.
She pushed past him. His human form was hard and soft; his scent wafted strongly for a moment, mingling with his meek magic signature, before fading away. Turning back to look at him, she inhaled, about to say something, but hesitated.
"What information would you like to threaten out of me now?" came the sarcastic comment.
"I'm telling you this for two reasons: if you are loyal, this may stop us from this…dislike…we have for each other as we now have a common goal, and you can understand that I am not the enemy. I am here, at the expense of being caught by Stefan for Maleficent's best interests. You don't have to know why- but I just want her awake, and for good reason."
"What about the second reason of telling me this?" Diaval asked after a few moments.
"If you have been disloyal to your Mistress; if I catch even a whiff of you or the princess trying to expose me, or anyone trying to stand in my way-" Keaira snapped her fingers for dramatic effect. "I just thought you'd like to know- it may help you choose your loyalties if you haven't already." Diaval nodded slowly in understanding.
Keaira unlatched the trapdoor and pulled away its covering, exposing the ladder. She looked up once more at the man. He really was quite handsome.
"What's your name, familiar?"
"Diaval."
"Hello, Diaval, I'm Keaira." She smiled with a frown as she debated her next words "My friends call me Kai, and I think that one day, if you truly are loyal to my, and what should be your, cause, I'll extend my hand. It's up to you to take it."
She smiled a last time, her dark ringlets wild over her face, before disappearing into the darkness, and leaving a confused Diaval to his thoughts.
.oOo.
The tubs of powder that were coloured across a variety of pale skin tones lay half-empty on Aurora's dressing table. With an angry half-scream, she threw down her brush and fisted her hands in her hair, glaring at the mirror.
Hints of angry red showed through the clammy, badly done mask that was half too pale and half too dark for her skin. Bits of powder had clogged and outlined the wound on her cheek, making it more visible than it had been before, if anything.
Bringing her fingers up, she winced, prodding her cheek lightly. It was going to take ages to heal properly, and she didn't know how to use all these bloody cosmetics.
Her lip quivered again and she fought back her tears. She didn't feel safe at all anymore: her protector was comatose; and her only friend (whom she may have feelings more than what was required) she had pushed away.
For the first time in her life, Aurora felt frightened and alone.
This time, she didn't bother to stop the tears. She just watched them leave tracks of red, purple and blue where pale skin should have been, as they washed away her poor disguise.
.oOo.
Tentative knocking sounded on Keaira's door. She sighed, pulling her hair into together with a small band at the base of her neck before shrugging on her robe over her nightgown.
"Phillip," she greeted in surprise, opening the door wider for him to enter. The prince remained rooted outside "are you alright?"
"I-" he fought to say his words, though it looked like he had something already rehearsed before hand.
"Just come in, will you? It's freezing."
She yanked him in, her bangles clanging against each other, before shutting the door. Turning around, she walked into the prince's chest and stepped back. He was gazing down at her, his eyes unreadable.
"I found a pair of wings today- in a hidden room in some tower, while I was exploring. Brown wings: coated with feathers, almost as tall as you."
Keaira's breath caught.
"You mean-"
"That's what I suspect."
Keaira turned away, trying to hide her livid expression. Stefan was seriously going to die, preferably by her hand.
"That's not why I am here though, but I wanted you to know, first."
"Wh-What do you mean?" she asked, still distracted by the previous information.
"Kai," he said, turning her around, hand on her arms when she didn't respond, "Kai, I need to tell you- we need to talk."
"What about?" she asked, giving him her attention.
He opened his mouth to speak, but he gagged slightly, before snapping his lips shut. He tried a few more times, but words constantly failed him. Finally he looked down at Keaira, his eyes wide and dark, like a boy's.
"I can't loose you, Kai, not yet."
"I'm right-" she was cut off by the slamming of Phillip's lips on hers. She flailed for a few moments before closing her eyes and pushing back against him, her hands coiling around his neck.
His hands gripped her hips and pulled her towards him forcefully until her body was flush against him.
No more distractions, a voice in her head told her as his hands latched onto the hem of her dress. They moved together until his kneecaps hit the edge of the bed. Pulling away, he sat on the edge of the mattress.
Pulling away, they paused, breathing heavily. Silently, she climbed onto him, her knees trapping his thighs as she straddled him. Not breaking her stare, her fingers deftly unknotted the ties of his white, cotton nightshirt and pulled it over his head, exposing his tanned, muscled torso.
Just one more, she told herself, before capturing those lips again.
They didn't stop, even when there was nothing but skin separating them.
So what do you think? Ayy or nayy- do comment in that little box below :)) as usual, everything is accepted, including flames.
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-Ash :)
