"Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand."
- W.B. Yeats 'The Stolen Child'

For the longest time, Aurora sat on a grassy embankment several hundred feet away from the castle.

The rain had finally cleared and the sun was beginning to break through the clouds – a little light on an otherwise dull afternoon.

Diaval stood at the bottom of the embankment, deep in contemplation – a raven perhaps destined to remain in the body of a man forever more.

Neither of them spoke.

For her part, Aurora felt a flicker of hope inside of her – one that told her that if she wished hard enough, really wished, then she would hear the flapping of wings in the sky above her. That her Godmother would land beside her on the embankment and reprimand her for sitting there, soaked through.

But it didn't happen.

"Aurora," Diaval called, eventually.

Lifting her head, she realised that there was a figure coming towards them, from the direction of the castle.

She bristled as the figure drew nearer.

"I told you to stay away from me! I never want to see you again!"

Prince Philip stopped at the bottom of the embankment.

"Aurora, please. I didn't… I didn't know," he told her. "Please, you have to believe me–"

"I don't want to hear it, Philip! Besides, even if you didn't know, you're still here, with her! Your mother who claims to have killed mine!" she cried as hot, angry tears stung her face.

The prince glanced at Diaval, who shrugged.

"You heard the lady."

"Okay, fine. I can't make you believe me. I won't try any further, but please, let me help you," Philip said calmly.

"Do you know where she is?" Diaval asked. "Is what the Queen said true?"

"I can't be sure, but Maleficent was gravely injured," Philip said, sitting down on the gentle slope of the embankment, Aurora watching silently as the two of them talked.

"How? Is it something to do with that?" Diaval asked, pointing to the clouds of red mist that were still hanging in the sky over the castle.

Philip nodded his head. "By all accounts, it's an ancient recipe… a cocktail of poison to fairies. The slightest of contact with the stuff can kill them."

"What is it?" he frowned.

"I'm not sure exactly, but I know the main ingredient is a flower which goes by the name of Tomb Bloom," the prince said.

Aurora frowned. "Tomb Bloom?"

Philip nodded again.

"Did… did she…?" the girl began.

This time, the prince did not respond. But he didn't have to – the look in his eyes told Aurora everything she needed to know and she choked back a sob.

"But she was still alive when I last saw her," Philip said eventually, pointing at a mountain, several miles in the distance. "She flew in that direction."

Without warning, Aurora stood up and lifting up her skirts, hopped down from the embankment and began to make her away across the field they had been sat in, towards the mountain.

"Aurora!" Diaval called. "Where are you going?!"

"We have to find her!" she called, over her shoulder.

Diaval didn't argue any further, but before he followed, he turned to regard the prince again.

"Thank you."

Ω Ω Ω Ω

For what felt like hours, they walked. And then they climbed, all the time calling for Maleficent to no avail.

By the time they reached the highest point of the mountain, they were both exhausted.

"She's not here," Diaval declared, scanning the skies as if his mistress may appear at any second.

"Perhaps she went back to the moors," Aurora said hopefully.

There were several trees atop the mountain and she had checked them all, but her Godmother wasn't in them.

"You might be right. But maybe we could just rest a little, before we head back down," Diaval sighed, going to sit on a near by rock, situated outside of what appeared to be the entrance of a cave, constructed from boulders and fallen trees, likely struck by lightning.

"Alright, but not for long," Aurora said, standing as close to the edge of the ground they were on as she could and peering down below. "What if she's injured? I'll need to find my aunties, they'll know what to do. And –"

"–Aurora," he said, suddenly.

Stopping, she turned to look at him.

But Diaval wasn't looking at her – he was peering inside the small cave to his left.

Aurora went to stand beside him, squinting as her eyes attempted to adjust to the darkness inside.

There, curled on her side in a tight ball and shrouded by the feathers of her large wings, lay the lifeless body of Maleficent.

Gasping, Aurora pushed through the stray branches that shrouded the cave's entrance and rushed to the fairy's side.

"Godmother!" she reached out a hand, touching the part of Maleficent's arm that protruded from beneath the feathers. Despite the weight of her wings, it was cold.

Aurora's hands moved through the feathers, smoothing them down.

"Godmother, wake up," she pleaded.

But Maleficent didn't stir. She continued to sleep.

Except, Aurora knew Maleficent would never fall asleep in a place like this. Not alone. Not where she was vulnerable.

Reaching out more forcefully, Aurora pushed back the nearest wing, giving her a shake.

"Godmother!"

"Aurora…" Diaval began, softly. Hopelessly.

"Wake up!" she screamed. "I ran right into the palace today! I could've been killed! Aren't you angry?! I left the moors without your permission! Then I stole a horse! It rained all afternoon and I'll probably have a fever tomorrow!"

She stopped, heaving for breath.

But still Maleficent remained still. Empty.

No, no, no…

And Aurora sobbed.

She sobbed until there was no air left in her lungs.

She longed for the fairy to open her eyes – to brand her an abhorrent little beast and chide her for her carrying on, her breaking of the rules.

But it never came.

Outside of the cave, Diaval listened to the child's pain-filled sobs as his own tears pricked his eyes.

Finally exhausted, Aurora leant her body against Maleficent's, burying her face in the soft feathers. Her anguished sobs had reduced to whimpers, but the tears kept on coming.

At last, the sun went down, leaving them in relative darkness.

"Aurora?" Diaval's soft voice finally broke through the heavy silence.

Lifting up her head, she turned to look at him, though she could only make out his silhouette in the dark.

"Do you want to go back to the moors?" he asked, sounding as if he didn't know what else to do.

She shook her head before turning back to bury her face in Maleficent's wings again, as the last of her tears escaped her eyes and fell onto the fairy's cheek.

"No," she murmured. "I want my mother… I want my mother…"

Diaval did not speak again.

More sobs wracked the girl's as if with a second lease of life and Aurora allowed them to come, allowed her grief to envelope her as the last of the evening's light bled from the sky.

Beneath her, a lone wing twitched.

END