Chapter 3: Protector, Protected

Diaval and Aurora hastily steadied themselves in the river and faced who had interrupted them. Aurora was first to react to prince Phillip standing at the edge, hand wrapped weakly around the hilt of his sword. It was pointed straight at Diaval's throat.

"Phillip! What are you doing? You don't have to pull your sword, we were merely playing in the river," she explained, showing him a nervous smile. Phillip's grip on the sword loosened enough so that the tip of it was just barely cutting the water. His eyes stubbornly remained on Diaval, searching for bad intentions before speaking.

"I was worried for you, Aurora. I cannot fathom why you decided to sneak off in the mid of night, but it was in my full suspicions that this bird had something to do with it." Phillip slowly pulled the sharp blade back to its scabbard.

"I promise you, I came here on my own accord," she said, wading through the water to meet the prince who already had his hand stretched out.

"You couldn't have at least waited until morning, 'rora?" Despite her being completely drenched from head to toe, he engulfed her in a large hug. "Nearly killed me when I thought you'd been taken away."

Aurora gladly returned the hug, and upon releasing, she grasped the sides of his head with her palms, brushing her thumbs on his temples. "No need to worry, then. How did you find me, though? Not that I was hiding, or anything, of course!"

"My brothers and I all had to learn basic tracking. Our father knew that we would be out on our own at an early age, whether hunting or battling for our kingdom. I thought it would work excellently in this situation, and as long as I do not have to use my sword on someone else here, then we can return you to the throne, my lady." The 'someone else' mentioned climbed out of the river himself, wringing out his now dark, charcoal colored undershirt. The hole where the branch previously protruded sagged and tore a little more with the heaviness of the water.

Nothing Maleficent couldn't fix.

"Absolutely ridiculous," Diaval muttered as Phillip practically pulled Aurora away, his hand secured protectively at the small of her back. The trail they walked became wider as they went along, but though there was room for Diaval to walk alongside them, he decently allowed them their space and strolled further behind them.

Even if it wasn't directed toward him, Aurora's voice talking to Phillip was soothing and reassuring. She was obviously resolving the misunderstanding that the prince witnessed earlier. Somewhere deep down – but not as deep as he'd initially hoped – he wished it did not have to be a misunderstanding at all.

The young couple ahead of him were too enthralled in conversation and laughter that they failed to see Diaval slip off to find Maleficent, his resentment of choosing to follow them trailing off of him like steam in the night air.

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"My, my, look at you. Looks like you really took a spill, hmm? Quite literally too, seeing as what's left of your shirt is half soaked," Maleficent mused, grinning at Diaval with brilliant white teeth. A couple of water faeries sailed by; they snickered with little blue hands grasping at his black hair. While Diaval delicately protested, tickled by their subtle tugging, Maleficent sniggered.

"I fell into a river. Is something funny? Would you enjoy turning me into a cat so I can groom myself dry?"

Her fingers twitched with golden magic and Diaval immediately regretted his words. His mistress became much taller and the stonework he was previously standing on was now touching his nose. Angered as a cat could get, he growled and pressed his new ears down on his head. "I get it, I get it. If you would please turn me back lest I begin purring." Honestly, trying to talk as a cat was a lot more unsettling as a feline than as a bird – his words came out as chittering and jolting whiskers.

He knew he was turning again when the fur of his cat body morphed to the usual pale skin he knew well. Or, as well as a crow could be familiar.

"Why, yes, Diaval. Something is funny," she said. She fixed a mossy-green scarf over her shoulders and circled around Diaval, examining him like he were an opened book. "What I find quite hilarious is that since the arrival of our little prince, your feathers have been – oh, how should I put this – especially… bristled."

The water faeries had, since his turn into a cat, scattered, so it was definitely the hairs on the back of his neck raising by themselves.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Of course you don't."

"…I am merely still getting accustomed to what we discussed at Aurora's coronation celebration."

"Is that what you ran into a tree for? Because the little prince watches over her?" She laughed, a whole-hearted, genuine laugh of pity. Her wings bounced with each heave of her chest and Diaval squawked, having been almost hit in the head by her bronze feathers. "You are definitely a bird. Watchful and protective over what you consider your nest."

"Protec – I am not protective over her," he pressed immediately. "I did not come here to be made a fool of."

She reclaimed her composure, "Why did you come here, then?"

"I…" he was appalled. "I got a hole in my shirt."

And as dawn cracked again, sunshine peeking through crisp green leaves, Diaval wished he could fly into the sun, high above the clouds, because Maleficent would not stop laughing.

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Aurora loved the Moors. It was nothing like the stuffy cottage she grew up in, though the fights her Aunts had with each other were fairly entertaining. The Moors, though; the Moors had a life to it. The forests danced with the wind, the rivers grew and shrunk and filled and dried. A pulse, a heartbeat keeping everything around her alive.

However, it was getting difficult to appreciate the spectacular beauty when Phillip was constantly around her. She made an outstanding effort to keep him company because she understood what it was like to be a stranger in someone else's land. Aurora related to his situation, if she could call it that. The moment she set foot in her father's kingdom, a shudder fell down her spine, uncomfortable and eerie. Her father, even, was a complete stranger. Sure, they embraced, but after that she saw animosity and dejection glaring her down. He was devoid of kindness, unlike Maleficent.

She thought about it, and that last part might have been a bit different than where Phillip was at the moment.

"Aurora, I have to talk to you." She snapped out of her thoughts and smiled at Phillip. He had a shifting glance that refused settlement on her; it was odd to see him like this.

"Sure Phillip, what about?"

"Not here, though, maybe somewhere… private…" Her smile wavered.

"We are alone, if you don't count the woodland guardians," she said pensively.

Phillip settled his gaze on one of the tall, mossy giants. He became noticeably unsettled as one reached out in, what Aurora thought was, an effort to comfort the jittery prince. Aurora twirled around, her tan sundress raising above her knee and bare feet settling pointed toward the gentle beings. One bent down, a rooted knee almost growing into the dirt where it touched. "If you could leave us," she said. The guardians disappeared back into the fields until their next calling.

"I have to return home." He hadn't waited for her to face him again. When she did, her expression was laced with alarm.

"Is this because of the events in which Diaval and I… I'm still sorry in that I snuck away, but I felt responsible for some reason." Aurora tugged innocently at her own blonde hair. Thinking about Diaval falling backwards into the river and pulling her in made her want to smile so badly.

"I know, 'rora," he assured, "it is not you, nor the bird, that is driving me back to my father's castle. He sent me to King Stefan for business and my time here has run out. All I have to do is tell him what has conspired in your new kingdom, Aurora, and then I am hoping to tell him about us."

"Us?"

Phillip clasped her hands close to his chest. "Yes, us. He'll be so excited to know I've found the one I am meant to be with!"

His hug last night was so warm and inviting, but the one that he gave her in this moment made her spine trill with ice. "I will return as soon as I can. It is not my intention to leave you alone here, but I know you are far more familiar with the Moors than I am. I will be riding at midday. Can I expect the queen of the Moors to be there upon my departure?" he finished with a regal tone and slight grin, to which she curtsied.

"Why, your grace, I would not miss it for anything." He formally raised her hand to his lips and left her to prepare his horse. The wind blew too strongly for the morning, constricting her almost more-so than her dress after swimming in the river with Diaval.

The part of her hand where he kissed was cold, in no way similar to her first meeting with Diaval.

His fingers on her knuckles were rough and brash, unlike the delicate brush of Diaval's.

Phillip was royal and gentlemanly and the perfect suitor for a princess. Diaval was not Phillip. Diaval had nature woven through his hair, wild midnight eyes, and was unafraid of all that she knew.

What frightened her the most was that she could swear she saw a black bird fly overhead and hoped to the gods that it was not Diaval.

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A/N: Once again, guys, thanks for supporting this so much. I've been a bit slow the past few days because my parents were out and I was having a good time singing out loud in an empty house more than writing, forgive me. There will still be a few more events the next few days (weeks) but I am confident that you will stick with me through to the end regardless.

PS: I'm sure that you will enjoy what I have in store for our little prince. Or, maybe not.