Hi guys! Heh heh, so it's been a while...I can honestly say I had no idea what I was doing for a while; school, work issues, and a severe case of writer's block meant that this story was going no where fast.

But I'm back, and I promise I won't go away like that again! I'm glad you're all still here (at least, I hope you are). Let's get to it then.

To my reviewers:

Siepie: I'm happy you're enjoying this story so much! Yes, I definitely agree with you there, which is why I was trying to develop it slowly, and try and get into what would make them decide to give their child up like that. So I'm glad you're liking that aspect. We'll get a little more of it ahead.

Bookwyrm: Thank you for the review! I liked that part too. ;)

WyldClaw: Thanks for the review, I'm glad you think my story is awesome, and I hope you keep reading!

AirHawk19: Thank you for the kind words! And I'm glad you caught the references; I really thought they worked well here, too, and that was exactly what I was going for. Nice to see you picked up on it. I'm glad you're loving this story and I hope you will continue to read and enjoy!

Loz!: I'm so happy to hear from you again! I was wondering where you had disappeared to, was sad when I didn't see your reviews; but I suppose I can't complain about hiatus' now, can I? ;) But I'm glad we're both back, and that you also caught the references. Yes, it is strange, and I can't blame you for not really getting into Stefan; he is quiet evil. But he is also human, so I really tried to dig into that...for all of them, really. There will be a lot more tension coming up so don't you worry! But that's all I'll say, you'll have to read it for yourself. :)

And also, a huge shoutout and thank you to my beta reader Joan McCreedy! You have her to thank for this chapter, and for the timing of it. I probably would have stayed in a writing slump for a bit longer but she helped get my act together and get this out to you guys. So thank you Joan! I couldn't have done it without you!

No warnings apply to this chapter, though it is a bit shorter than my usual. I should have the next chapter up in a couple weeks, though, so don't worry. In the mean time, I hope you guys enjoy, and don't forget to review!

Thanks,

- Raven

Diaval wasn't sure how long he had stayed in the tree, but he was aware of his name being called, and he jerked upright with a start. The sun was shining brightly, and the sight of it startled him, as he wondered just where he was.

"Diaval?"

He remembered what made him wake up in the first place, and he looked around to see Balthazar and Ronin staring at him from the forest edge.

"What are you doing here?" Balthazar asked, stepping forward slowly.

"I…I just needed to get away for a bit," he said, brushing the hair out of his eyes.

"Well you picked a fine time to do that," Ronin grumbled, and Diaval straightened on his branch.

"What do you mean?"

Balthazar cast a glare at his brother, his expression apologetic as he turned back to Diaval, who sighed, slumping slightly and dropping his gaze to the ground.

"You mean Maleficent, don't you?" he asked.

"She's destroyed one of the ruins," Ronin answered. "They were ruined anyway, but uh, the Moor folk have decided to stay underground today. Just to be safe."

Diaval sighed again, a heaviness settling in his gut. Balthazar shifted just a bit closer, and Diaval brought his head up to meet his eyes when he spoke.

"Do you know what could have brought this on?" The Guardian pressed gently, and Diaval averted his gaze once more.

"I may have…said some things," he admitted, and Balthazar stiffened. Diaval told them about his latest trip to the castle, the grief and pain he's witnessed, and his argument with Maleficent. Balthazar was frowning by the time he'd finished, and Ronin too, looked unhappy.

"You shouldn't have mentioned any of that, Diaval," Balthazar said, his tone heavy, and Diaval scrambled to his feet; a hand on the trunk beside him as anger surged through him once more.

"What would you have liked me to say, Balthazar?" he asked, his voice strained. "You've cursed an infant to her death, but it's alright, because it was revenge for something she had no part of."

"Diaval," Balthazar rumbled disapprovingly.

"It's not, though," Diaval insisted. "I know it; I saw it. And I care for her, too, but I'm not going to say that what she's done is alright."

"I'm not saying that you should, either," the Guardian said. "I'm only saying you shouldn't leave her."

"I could never leave her, Balthazar," Diaval said, a wry smile twisting his lips. "That's the point. The problem. I could never leave."

"Talk to her," Balthazar said. "Please."

"I think I've said everything I can say," Diaval responded. "It's her decision to make, regardless of whether or not she'll listen to me."

Balthazar tried to convince him, but he was set. If she wanted to be stubborn, then who was he to stand in her way? He could be stubborn too. He ignored the part of him that questioned if he really wanted to be stubborn, and argued that she was the one who had started this, not him. The Guardians left him alone after that, and Diaval settled back into the tree.

It was certainly well into the afternoon, he thought, watching the clouds and squinting at the sun. He'd grown accustomed to the darkness of the Moors, but faced with the light of the sun, he was reminded once again why it was so wrong in the first place. He had done the right thing in speaking his mind to Maleficent, but then why did he feel the opposite?

He stood, clinging to the branches to maintain his balance, and began to descend from the tree. He turned once he'd reached the bottom, staring back into the forest and the Moors beyond. Across the hills and fields behind him, he knew the Village lay, and beyond even that, the castle. He also knew that he'd never make the journey in a reasonable amount of time; not without his wings. He felt itchy, naked and exposed, and he realized that this was the longest period of time he'd gone as a human. It felt even more wrong than arguing with Maleficent, and he stopped short as a thought struck him suddenly.

Was this how she felt?

He thought about being a bird, a true raven, and not the form changer he was now. He thought about flying; the joy and the freedom it brought. He tried to imagine what it would have been like, as a wild bird, to wake up one day and find that the thing that made him what he was, gone. He couldn't imagine it. But he knew that was what had happened.

Even standing here in human form, he couldn't imagine it. He could still become a bird, return to his true form and fly free once more. But Maleficent was always on the ground. He contemplated for the first time what it must be like to be stuck; to rely on someone else to do the one thing that you should be able to do. To know that the only reason you even had to rely on them was because a piece of yourself had been stolen.

Taken, lost, with no hope of getting it back.

And he realized, standing there, that she had been right, at least in one thing. There were worse things than death. Stefan had done more than just take her wings; he'd taken what made her Maleficent. To lose yourself, to lose who you are, that…that was the worst curse of all.

"…can see that it's an unreasonable request." The voice was saying. "Considering the circumstances, it just wouldn't be fair to expect it from them."

The voice was irritating, he thought. Couldn't they see he wanted to be alone?

'That's the price of a crown,' a new voice hissed darkly in his ear. 'Well, that and the life of your child.'

"Enough!" he snapped, and both voices quieted.

Stefan sat at the head of the table, the rest of his council assembled around him. The torches that flickered on the walls threw shadows across their faces and gave them all the appearance of demons, but he wouldn't allow the windows to be opened. Better that he see them all for what they really were. Cyrus had been the one talking, and the voice whispered that of course he would be. Stefan ignored the voice, and focused on the council, who were staring at him in surprise and shock.

"I've heard more than enough of all of this," he said, and Cyrus' eyebrows lifted in surprise.

"Your Grace," he said quickly. "I understand the frustrations, but we must be sensible. We cannot afford to lose faith with the other kingdoms; and insisting on the betrothal with House Evander, given the circumstances, is…unfair."

"Unfair?" Stefan repeated, and the voices hissed angrily in response. "Of course, Cyrus. Of course it's unfair."

Cyrus paled, lowering himself slowly back to his chair while Stefan rose.

"To think that I'm trying to keep the kingdoms together, while my daughter dies!" He scoffed bitterly, and Cyrus winced. "Of course it's unreasonable."

"Forgive me, Your Grace," Cyrus stammered, lowering his gaze. "I did not mean to suggest…"

"But you did suggest," Stefan snapped, and the man finally fell silent, much to his relief. "I don't want suggestions on marriages or treaties or even wars." He leveled his gaze at each of the council members in turn. "What I want is suggestions on how to stop this curse."

'Ah, but don't you remember? 'No power on earth…'" the voices dissolved in a giddy chuckle, and Stefan only barely managed to keep his emotion from spilling onto his face. He cleared his throat in a futile attempt to drown the laughter, and straightened at the head of the table.

"If that is all?" he asked stiffly, and the council men nodded, frozen in their seats.

He nodded once before turning from the table, retreating from the room before the voices could overwhelm him. He grit his jaw and made his way down the halls, moving by instinct as the laughter twisted and became a low hiss.

'He's right, you know,' they said. 'It is unfair to make them pay for what you've done.'

"You've done this!" he growled. "You and your curse! You…." He faltered at the sound of a soft cry, and he realized with a panicked start where he was.

He rushed through the door to find that Leila was already there, whispering to Aurora as she reached out to pick up the child. His wife only just glanced up at him as he entered, but quickly returned her gaze to Aurora, rocking her carefully in her arms. Stefan closed the door quietly behind him, shuffling in and sighing as the voices finally retreated.

"Is she alright?" he asked, and Leila pursed her lips.

"She's fine, now."

He nodded, unsure what to say or how to breach the gap that had risen between them. Ever since that night when Leila finally held her, she couldn't seem to let Aurora go. Especially not if she was letting her go to him.

"Have you spoken with them yet?" Leila asked, and he froze, his stomach clenching.

"No, not yet," he finally managed, and she frowned sharply, but her eyes were pained as she looked up at him.

"You said you would."

"This isn't something that we can just decide," he said.

'Funny, you didn't seem to have any trouble deciding when you took me.'

He flinched against the voice, but Leila had turned back to Aurora and missed his sudden movement.

"We…there has to be another way," he tried again, wincing as his head began to pound again.

"There is no other way!" Leila cried. "You heard her! You heard what she said: No power on earth…."

The voice whispered the words with her and Stefan grit his jaw, trying to think past the onslaught of words. There had to be something, anything he could do.

"The fairies will take care of her," Leila continued, much more subdued, though Stefan could see the beginnings of a tremble take over her body. "I trust them."

'I trusted them, too.'

"Just give me more time," he pleaded. "I will find a way…"

'This curse shall last until the end of time…she will prick her finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel…no power on earth can change it!'

"The spinning wheel."

He froze, and Leila noticed the change, sitting up and staring at him warily. "What is it, Stefan?"

"The spinning wheel," he repeated, turning on her. "There is a way. There is a way!"

He laughed then, relief churning so strongly through his gut he was almost dizzy. He straightened, turning and striding from the room before Leila could try and dissuade him. She thought she was clever; she thought she had won, but now he had the upper hand on the curse, and he wasn't about to lose again.

Diaval was wrong. He was wrong to say what he had said. Wrong and out of line…out of place. She hadn't wanted to break Stefan. She had wanted to take from him what he had taken from her; it was just a pleasant side effect that he had broken, as well. But then what did that make her? Was she broken, too?

Maleficent sneered, the very idea preposterous, even in her thoughts. The sky was cracking above her, shadows splitting and sharp bolts of magic lashing out wildly from the air and from her. She turned sharply, surveying the Moors from the height of the Cliffs. There had been a time when she would have flung herself from the very edge without fear, without restraint, reveling in her wings which would catch her and propel her through the clouds. There would be nothing to catch her if she threw herself off now.

He had taken that from her. He'd taken her freedom, her life, her power. Her trust. And what had she taken? His child. His legacy. But he was still free. He was still alive, and he was still a king, with a kingdom far greater….

No.

Her lips curled and another crack of magic broke through the air. No, his kingdom was nothing compared to hers. He was nothing. He was broken. Because of her. Because of himself!

She growled, and the skies took up the refrain, rumbling her displeasure for all to hear. The clouds rolled and tossed, reflecting the turmoil as she fought with herself. He had been the one who caused this. He had stolen everything from her, and she…she was no better.

She wasn't trying to be better!

The air sizzled with light, the flare of magic and thunder so intense it seemed to roar with a sudden heat. Green flames splashed across the ground with crushing force, shattering the stones it came in contact with and leaving deep cracks in the earth beneath.

Diaval had thought she was.

The flames died just as suddenly as they had come at the realization. Diaval had thought she had been trying for something more, and for just a moment, she had let herself get caught up with his ideas. With the relief and comfort that his presence brought. More than that, she had nearly let herself get caught up with him, and that loss of control, of her anger and her revenge, had been strangely freeing. He had reached a part of she had thought didn't exist anymore, and…it was terrifying.

But it was too late for regret. There was no going back now, and it was far past that time, regardless of any doubts or even feelings. She knew better. Knew what came of it. The storm died, though the clouds remained as she stood, returning those very feelings to the dark corner they had come from. She wouldn't let herself get caught up again.