Chapter Six: A Boy and a Girl
It was in the 'promising light of a new day' that Lily awoke with a melancholy sort of sadness infecting her otherwise high-spirited mood. It had rained for the better part of a month after her oh-so-pessimistic night-time visit with her winged caller, providing a break from spring's artificial warmth.
For no matter how hot it became, Lily felt quite cold. Crushed, was perhaps a better word, by the weight of the small child that held in her small hand the woman's heart. Not that the infant was rough or disagreeable -quite the opposite, actually- but her little fingers left prints on Lily, memories she could not wash off. Slowly, at am almost unnoticeable pace, they began to replace her dearest Jane.
The odd time that Lily would catch this happening was met with equal parts of loathing and joy. There were times when the woman wished to demand how so small a thing could dare attempt to separate a grieving mother from the memory of her child. And others, Lilly was so convinced she was healing that she hardly paid any mind to the face of her own daughter, a face that was fading quickly from her.
Now, sunlight streaked across the green of the grass out her window, casting dark shadows over the tops of the trees. Inwardly, Lily sighed. For her peculiar mood, she was rather pleased that she would not have to hear the three women Aurora belonged to bicker endlessly.
How they had managed not to kill the poor dear was a mystery to Lily, one that she liked to muse over when she witnessed first-hand their incompetence.
Babies eat carrots, indeed. She thought with a smirk as she tied her hair back with a ribbon. It would have been amusing if not so frightening. Lily could have sworn she heard the ridiculous blond creature mention trying to feed the little one spiders.
Deciding that a bit of cheer may brighten her mood, she gave herself a grin in the little mirror before tucking her basket into her elbow and leaving the house. Mid-morning dew clung to her boots and the hem of her skirt, dampening it and leaving green stains on the white fabric.
A few short knocks on the door of the cottage when she arrived went unanswered, sending a chill down Lily's spine. Usually the entire household was awake by that hour, and she was certain she was on time. Gently, she tried the handle, and her fear only heightened when she found it unlocked.
Stepping into the cosy -if a bit cramped- home, Lily's eyes went to the crib just beneath the window. Releasing a breath she did not know she had been holding upon seeing Aurora asleep there, she put her mind to finding a trace of the three women.
While deemed rude, Lily entered their bedroom and did not find them simply oversleeping. A wave of displaced rage at the thought that they may have abandoned the infant crossed her mind, but died when she re-emerged to find a piece of paper folded in half on the dining room table.
Slightly embarrassed that she had missed such a crucial clue, Lily opened what she discovered to be a letter written by someone with beautiful penmanship. Who, exactly, had been the one to write it was a mystery, as it was signed by all three near the bottom.
The contents were simple; the trio had gone to the market to resupply on essential things, and entrusted Aurora into Lily's care. According to them, they would return around noontime tomorrow. The young woman nodded to nothing before refolding the letter and tucking it into her basket. She did find it rude that their absence had gone unmentioned the day before while Lily rocked Aurora in he crib while outside it poured, she was forced to recall how scatter-brained they all seemed to be.
Rather than take it personally, Lily simply shrugged before moving to hover over the infant in question. Whistling lightly and smiling when the infant giggled, she lifted her from her crib. She barely remembered holding her own child, although she did not truly have a proper chance to before Jane was taken from her. She could not find reason to sink into sadness, simply because it was not Aurora's fault, and instead focused on preparing both of them breakfast.
Other than the simple novelty of peace and quiet, the day passed rather quickly. The feeling that she was being watched receded to almost non-existent, but Lily still found herself glancing at the forest every now and then.
There was, however, a set of dark eyes on her. They were unmistakeably human and currently filled with uncertainty. Diaval's strange attachment to the sad woman was difficult for him to understand. Part of him wanted to truly know the woman he had entrusted, while the other wanted to leave her be. Knowing either way that she would not return home tonight for a visit, he stepped out of the trees and into the yard.
As if she were expecting him, Lily looked up. Her eyes, however, were anything but welcoming and Diaval had to wonder if he'd made the right decision. She was on her feet quickly, picking Aurora up and holding her. There was nothing to be afraid of, but he was almost glad to see that her guard was up.
"Good morning." She said, the caution evident in the change in her tone. Gone was the light playfulness reserved for those close to her.
"The same to you." He replied. "I was out for a walk in the woods," he turned, gesturing to the forest behind him, "and came across, well, this." Diaval then motioned to the cottage, as well as Lily and Aurora.
Pursing her lips, Lily found she did not believe him. True, she had not noticed the house or its inhabitants, but something seemed strange about him. Furrowing her brow, she saw his eyes drop to the baby before quickly returning to her.
"I beg your pardon, but are you lying to me?" Lily asked, surprised but not regretful of her bluntness. The man opened his mouth to say something, but it took him a beat.
"No, Miss." He replied. "That hardly makes for a proper introduction to someone, does it?" Despite his friendly tone, Lily still found herself on edge. Somehow, she had a feeling she had seen this place before, glancing down at the infant, she wondered if he knew her.
"Do you know her? I saw you look at her just now." She continued. The man shook his head, conviction in his eyes. Lilly bit the inside of her cheek, wondering if the key to his odd -and her rather rude- behaviour could be found in wondering if he was her father.
The women had not mentioned any parents, and it irked Lily how easily she accepted her home-made idea that they were dead or simply never present in her life.
"Ah, no." Came his reply, and as if realizing how perplexing she must have appeared to someone who had no idea what she was talking about, she eased off.
"Lily's gaze lifted from the baby named Aurora in her arms to the man clad in black. "Forgive me, I assumed she was yours. You watch her with a father's eyes." The man seemed slightly confused, but hardly surprised.
"And you would know what that looks like?" He asked, giving Lily pause.
"No. I hardly knew my father. You see the little one as I wish he had seen me." She was surprised by how aloof he seemed in response to the accusation, but deciding he was harmless enough to bequeath that tidbit of information, she gave him silent permission to speak further.
"Is that so?" Another nod from her part had him staring at the child again. "Never thought I'd hear that. Always assumed I wasn't the type for parent hood." Now it was Lily's turn to look at him with a small amount of confusion.
"What do you mean by that?" She asked, turning slightly, inviting him to walk with her back to her blanket. Her earlier fears of the man were not quite forgotten, but perhaps a bit faded. He did not give a straight answer to Lily, but he did allude to absent parents as the particular reason why he felt the way he did.
She could not deny that he was finer company that three silly women, and attempted to remedy the earlier tone she had set for the conversation.
"I noticed quite the same thing." She said when the conversation returned to the almost picturesque cottage and surrounding grounds. "I lived here for longer than the owners claimed to have been settled and never saw hide nor hair of them." Followed by a gentle laugh, it was easy to make light of what she had said.
Diaval knew the lie the faerie's used in order to remain hidden, but did not wish to reveal their secret. While it had been simple to find Aurora, he did not want to do the same a second time.
"That's a bit curious." He admitted, making Lily nod. "But sometimes you miss things when your mind is elsewhere." The man hoped she would take the bait and change the conversation. Not just for the faerie's sake, but for his. He wanted to know fully what had happened to Lily's family. She often spoke in riddles when she did with him at night. It gave him a window into her mind he did not particularly want to look in.
"I was a bit preoccupied at the time. It was a hard winter. I cannot imagine how difficult it must have been on her." She looked to Aurora before returning her eyes to his. "At first, a few people came to me with simple illnesses and ailments. All have moved closer to the kingdom after the thorns grew outside of the Moors." Taking a breath, Lily instinctively ran a hand over Aurora's golden hair. "I fancied myself a healer of sorts, but soon found myself confronted with a disease I could not combat."
"What happened?" He asked it quietly, for he partly knew, but did not want to impose.
"My husband and daughter became very sick. Caring for them took up most of my time. I went as close to the Moors as I could to find ingredients. I had to be cautious, however. The thorns terrified me, but I often wondered what lay beyond. I never ventured there, however, and when they both succumbed, I often wondered if they would not if I had." She let her gaze drop to the ground, brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face.
If she had looked up, she would've spotted a knowing look on the man's face. It passed before she could, however. When Lily regained her composure, she bit her lip before letting a bitter smile claim her mouth.
"Such a dark topic for a lovely day. And to a complete stranger, no less." He smiled in kind, but his was of genuine amusement. He did not know for certain, but he could have sworn some of the sadness faded from her face as well.
"That shouldn't be too difficult to fix," he began, holding out his hand for her to shake. "The name's David." In the minuted before he decided to introduce herself, he half-wondered if a woman like her would be uncomfortable if he gave her his true name. When she smiled a bit brighter and shifted Aurora in her arms so that she could take his hand, he knew he had made the right choice.
"I'm called Lily. Quite nice to meet you." She had never had a friend before, and rather fancied the idea that David was just that.
Talking to him was a nice relief, although after her explanation as to why she had missed so much in a year, she never strayed back to that topic. It was wrong to venture there in the first place, she knew.
It was just before lunch that Aurora seemed to grow bored with simply being held. She did not cry often, but then she did, and it made Lily flinch. The man seemed to want to reach out and comfort her, but kept his hands firmly at his side while merely making a sound of sympathy.
"I suppose that's my cue to leave." He mused. Lily rather wished he wouldn't, if only because she had sorely missed speaking about something as pointless as the weather and certain types of flowers.
"Would you return for dinner?" She asked, her eyes hopeful. It died, however, when he shook his head.
"I'm afraid I can't say yes to that. I'd hate to disappoint you if I didn't show. I've got a bit of business that needs attention." Lily nodded in understanding, half-forcing a smile as he turned and left her in the yard.
She made an effort to shush the still-weeping baby by sitting down on the blanket, plucking a bright yellow dandelion and showing it to her. The smile on Lily's face never really left, and to an outsider, it seemed as if she was quite engrossed in entertaining the child. In reality, her mind was far away.
This chapter is rather long overdue, but I suppose there's no time like the present!
I got a rather thought-provoking and sweet review from the anonymous reader Critic of Sorts who asked a few interesting questions that I'd like to address to the collective. They are as follows.
1. Although I do not approve of Diaval's sudden caring for Lily, I know she was upset but why on earth would he become drawn to her for that sole reason?
The way I see it, while ravens are highly intelligent, I feel as if Diaval would have some issues with feeling human emotions, given how complex and varied they are. Parts of the ones more difficult to understand, such as empathy, would seep into his raven form and make him curiously interested in Lily's plight. He doesn't strike me as the type to hate people or be indifferent. The only reason why he treats the faeries with such disdain is that he views them as irresponsible and short-sighted. Fitting criticism of them, I might add.
2. And why did Maleficent suddenly become interested in her?
It's marvellously easy to tell yourself you don't care about an individual, but the longer Maleficent watches Lily, the more she seems aware that this woman is actually fighting her curse. Lily doesn't want to love Aurora, which is very similar to how Maleficent feels later on in the movie and eventually this story. The dedication Lily shows to someone who is not alive any more would puzzle anyone ostracised from the finer specimens of the human race, as she has only been subjected to cold-hearted and greedy humans thus far.
3. Also,why does she go to the Moors? Won't she be hurt there by the thorns or is it long before the thorn walls were put up?
I made a mention of this in earlier chapters and tried to spell it out a bit better in this one. Lily only goes near the Moors, never in them. Given what a magical place it is, there must be some run-off into the human world. I chose to embody this in plants with extra potency. A plant that can help with a common cough, when picked near the Moors, has stronger effects. Lily often wonders what she could do with plants grown inside the actual Moors.