A/N: Guest, this is for you. Ask and you shall receive ;) To the other Guest who asked if the sister of the Wicked Queen will be making an appearance, please note that I have not seen the new "The Huntsman" movie, and when I do, I will not be featuring it in this fic. You may doubt this considering the abysmal frequency of my updates, but I have the whole plot planned out already :)
Homecoming
"No really Aurora, I'm fine," Diaval insisted as the young Queen gripped his injured arm, attempting to apply pressure on the wound while simultaneously pulling him toward the infirmary.
"You need to have this looked at!" she replied in a harsh whisper as a maid walked by with a basket of laundry. Her eyes flashed to the scene before her, but she held her tongue. At least for now.
"And what would we say happened?"
"Animal attack. A cat or a nasty squirrel."
"Oh yes, very believable. A squirrel came out of nowhere and attacked me for no reason, then ran off. And on castle grounds, no less," Diaval pulled back now, resisting Aurora's spirited tugs.
"It was rabid." She replied. Diaval dipped his chin, his exasperation intensifying. Aurora shrugged, "stranger things have happened,"
"Aurora, no." He said, stopping.
"Please, at least have Leo look at it," she insisted, tugging again on his arm. Diaval winced. "Sorry."
"I don't want to draw attention Aurora. And I'm sorry, but I don't really trust your human doctors."
"Diaval."
"No."
Aurora groaned and changed directions, turning to a different door. Diaval followed, eager to get out of the limelight. He felt like an actor on stage with all these people watching them, if only out of the corner of their eye. Between the two guards from before and the smattering of maids, cooks, stable hands, and various servants crossing the foyer, he might as well take a bow.
Another maid passed with a basket of laundry. Aurora wheeled.
"Pardon," she called, her voice pitching up an octave as she rushed back to the woman who'd stopped, eyebrows raised. Aurora peered in the basket. "May I take this?"
"Of course, my Lady" she answered, slightly confused but compliant nonetheless.
Aurora dug about for a moment with her clean hand, concealing the other, covered in red, behind her back. She pulled a white sheet from the pile, thanked the woman, and then turned back around. The smile she put on for the woman disappeared instantly, replaced with an annoyed grimace for Diaval.
Aurora came to a door tucked away behind a tapestry. The wood felt heavy and thick, made of vertical oak planks held together with two iron bars. It stuck near the bottom, so she threw her weight against it and shoved it open. Inside looked like a bathroom. To the immediate right hung another door, presumably to the privy, and straight ahead sat a large wooden tub in the middle for washing. Beside it stood a small table with all of the fixings for a bath; soap, a cloth for washing, a comb, some scented oils, and a few towels. To the left of the tub stood a chair, and beside it stood another table with a water pitcher.
"Sit down," Aurora commanded, finally letting him go. Slightly amused by her authoritative tone, Diaval did as asked. Aurora gathered some supplies at the table by the bath and returned to Diaval's side, kneeling in front of him.
"Show me your arm," she said quietly, wetting a cloth with the water from the pitcher.
Diaval rolled up his sleeve, carefully, but still ended up wincing as he torn fabric from flesh already scabbed. Red still oozed from the pinstripes down his arms, but quite a few had caked up already. He presented the gory limb to Aurora, ready for her to back away, changing her mind, but she held fast.
Taking the cloth, she delicately dabbed at the cuts, trying to loosen the dried bits and wipe the red clean. Diaval felt his skin prickle at the coolness of the water and the softness of her touch.
"Sorry, it's cold,"
"No, its… fine." He answered, smiling, albeit awkwardly.
"Does it hurt?" she asked quietly.
"Not so much now," he answered, mimicking her quietness. He lied, of course. It stung like Hell, but she didn't need to know that. Besides, she distracted him. She moved carefully, gentle, like she knew how badly it pained him despite him claiming otherwise. His eyes flickered to the brilliant gold twisting's in her diadem, how it shimmered in the clouded sunlight. He couldn't help it; birds were naturally attracted to shiny things. Perhaps that was why he was so attracted to her, because she shone like the sun in the sky. He recalled how she'd taken to wearing flower crowns as a child, linking wild daisies and violets into elaborate rings, resting them in her hair. He imagined it was instinct; she was born to wear a crown. If only she realized that. He moved down to her eyes, hooded as they concentrated on her work. They seemed to go on forever, little galaxies on a white sky.
"I'm sorry about before," she muttered, "It just looked so bad, all that blood. I panicked."
"It was a natural reaction. I'm not mad at you." Aurora didn't respond.
A few minutes later she finished cleaning the wound. The cuts were deep in a few spots. She felt like they needed stitching, but honestly, the prospect of sewing someone's skin back together made her stomach turn. Besides, she had no needle or thread. She figured she would wrap it as best she could and convince him to see the doctor later.
"So," started Aurora, setting down the red stained cloth and picking up the bed sheet. "Our visitor was not 'Regina' after all."
"No," he answered, watching as she tore the thin fabric into strips. It almost made him wince. Some poor servant worked ages weaving that cloth. Now it was ruined, all for him.
"But if she didn't bring Stefan with her, then why was she here?"
"Perhaps she needed insight into the Kingdom. Discover it's nooks and crannies, sift out our weaknesses."
"There are plenty of those," Aurora grumbled. She paused in her ripping, remembering something, then folded in on herself with a groan, planting her face in her palms.
"Ugh, and I gave her the grand tour of the whole city!" She groaned again before mumbling, "my advisors told me I shouldn't show her around! They said the same thing you did! I'm such an idiot."
"Please Aurora, you had no way of knowing. Really it's my fault for not catching her sooner. The one reason I'm here and I don't figure it out until she's leaving. If anyone's to blame, its me."
"Still-" she tried, only for Diaval to cut her off.
"No, no 'still'. You are not taking the credit for this one Aurora, its all mine." She giggled then, before looking down at the shreds of cloth in her lap.
"Oh God Diaval, we're a mess." They smiled together, and Diaval wondered briefly if now was the time. He could pass it off as casual, just a quick 'I love you, Aurora', as brief and meaningless as an endearment between friends. The moment came and the moment went, as fleeting as springtime. Aurora looked back down at the shreds before her, and Diaval knew he was too late.
She opened three small bottles from the ground beside her, pouring almond sized drops into her palm. Instantly he smelled the green, floral aroma of lavender, and a second later the spiciness of frankincense. She mixed them with her finger before rubbing her palms together. She smoothed the fragrant salve over his cuts, gently so to not disturb the healing flesh. Diaval watched her, transfixed. Had she done this before? He didn't know, but perhaps he should hurt himself more often.
Aurora took the first strip and placed it an inch before the beginning of the cuts, right at the base of his elbow. She wound it around his arm, tightly, but not too tightly, threading in new strips when needed. When she reached his wrist, she looped the strip between his thumb and forefinger a few times to keep everything in place before tying it off.
"I didn't know you could do that," Diaval mumbled.
"Please, it's not that hard. Besides, the fairies taught me."
"Speaking of fairies," began Diaval, "Maleficent will want to know about this. She may have an idea of what to do."
"Agreed." Aurora said standing up. "We'll go tonight."
"We're not going anywhere. I will fly over and tell her. I'll be back by nightfall."
"You're not seriously going to leave me here, are you? What if she comes back?"
"You'll be far safer inside the castle with your guards than on the open roads with pitiful me," he retorted, thrusting his freshly bandaged arm to show her, as if she didn't already know how useless he was. He had one job, one, and he failed at it. Protect Aurora, that's what she said, wasn't it? That was all Maleficent asked of him, to protect her goddaughter. And he failed. He allowed the lion to roam the castle for over a day, allowed Aurora to eat with her, converse with her, unaware of her claws and teeth.
"You are not pitiful!"
"Really, Aurora? I couldn't even protect myself. How am I supposed to protect another person?"
"You protected Maleficent during the battle," she started, causing Diaval to groan in response, cutting her off. He grew angry as more memories of his previous failures were dug up.
"No, I didn't. Stefan still got to her. You're the real hero, finding her wings." He jabbed a finger at the door, "These guards tied me down within the first ten minutes. Even as a bloody dragon, I was useless."
"That's not true. I don't think you're useless." Diaval huffed. Aurora tried to conjure up some inspirational pep talk, something intelligent that he couldn't rebuff, but she was at a loss. Making people feel better wasn't her strong suit, it was his. He was the one to always brighten her mood after a terrible day. All she could do was mess things up and cry about it later.
"Really," she tried, "I think you're wonderful. You've been such a help to me these past two days."
Diaval crossed his arms, ignoring the fresh sting beneath the bandages. Aurora placed a hand on his arm, and he softened under her touch. He turned to face her; she'd come within a foot of him.
"I trust you, even if you don't trust yourself. I know I'll be safe with you"
"Aurora," he said, softer, "it's really not a good idea for you to come along."
"I know," she answered smiling that Devil-may-care smile only a teenager could supply. Diaval had a hard enough time saying no to her to begin with, but with a smile like that, his resolve melted and he consented.
Night came and with it a peppering of blinking stars, beautiful in their celestial swirls and cosmic pictures. In the fields below the castle, many a farmer sat out with their young sons and watched the night sky take shape. They pointed out the Big Bear, the Little Bear and the Snake that curved between them. They found the Little Dog and the North Star, and then created a few pictures of their own. They lay in the soft grass for hours, talking and not talking, soaking in the peaceful stillness of night until mother calls them in. The two would then stand, shaking the dew off their tunics and their hair, clapping each other on the back as they came in for the night.
Unfortunately, the night did not hold this kind of peace for Diaval and Aurora. Neither had parents to sit and watch the night sky with and contemplate life, nor did they have the time. When night fell and the land went dark, Aurora "retired" to her room, threatening Diaval with unspeakable tortures should he break his promise and go without her. True to his word, he arrived at her window two hours after the sun set. She let him in, already in her nightdress thanks to her handmaiden. In a loose dress with her hair down and face clean, Diaval was reminded of the old days. Back when Aurora still lived in the cottage with the three fairies; back when Maleficent was simply her fairy godmother and not some complicated hero-villain, both cursing her and saving her; when Aurora was just Aurora, not the Queen of two Kingdoms, stressed beyond human limits, and betrothed to boot. Of course, her dresses weren't quite so thin back then either, but still.
"Take a robe," he said, trying to frame it as more of a suggestion. "It's cold outside."
This was true; the temperature dropped rather quickly at night. However, he asked her more for his own benefit then hers. She looked far too… distracting. He needed to be at the top of his game tonight, especially since his game was meager to begin with.
"Anything else?" She asked sincerely, pushing her arms through her robe sleeves.
"Perhaps a light snack," he mused, causing her to roll her eyes and throw a silver comb from her vanity at him. It struck him in the chest and he fumbled to catch it before it clattered noisily to the floor.
"Hey, shh!"
"Let's get going," she giggled.
Aurora picked up the candle by her bedside, curling her finger through the holder's ring. She cracked the door and slipped through, with Diaval following close by. He shut the door silently.
Earlier they agreed to take the back passage out of the castle, the one they took up upon discovering Stefan's reanimation. They ghosted down the stairwell, passing through the abandoned barracks on slippered feet. The room seemed eerie at night; fifty or so hammocks hanging bodiless and still on dusty ropes. Aurora shuddered. Neither wished to linger.
The next set of stairs was harder. They were near the servant's quarters now. While they knew the help couldn't really do anything if they found their Queen out of bed (after all, she wasn't a child anymore), it would not look good for the recently betrothed Aurora to be sneaking around with another man. She didn't need another reason for her court to hate and disrespect her.
They eventually made it to the kitchen, empty and somewhat clean. Aurora checked the pantry to make sure Chef hadn't passed out drunk from drinking the cooking wine again. She'd found him there one night when she'd come down looking for a midnight snack. When she came back, Diaval had stepped on top of a counter to unlock the window. He hoisted himself out and dropped to the ground. Inside he heard Aurora climbing. He saw her face in the window, pale and luminous in the moonlight. Foolishly she looked down.
"It's not that high, you'll be ok."
"Easy for you to say," she whispered harshly, her eyes constantly flickering down. "You're accustomed to heights!"
She had a point.
"Look, I'll catch you, you just have to jump!"
She looked at him, nervous.
"I promise. You said you trusted me," he pressed. They had limited time. The trip to the Moors was not a quick one. It would take them at least an hour both ways.
He saw Aurora shimmy and bring her legs up, swinging them so they hung free off the ledge. She clung to the brick with white knuckles.
"I'm right here, I'll catch you," he continued. He thought if he kept reminding her that he was just beneath her she'd feel better about jumping. Honestly, the window was less than three meters high. But then again, heights never did bother him.
Aurora turned herself to face the wall and awkwardly tried to climb her way down, slipping just the tips of her slippered toes into the cracked stone. She gripped the ledge with her fingers, white and straining to hold her body as it hung freely.
"Let go Aurora", Diaval whispered. She held on. "Let go, I'm right here, right below you, you can let go."
Aurora sucked in a breath, squeezed her eyes shut, and released her fingers.
She immediately dropped into Diaval's arms, her feet landing firmly on the ground as he slowed and guided her descent.
"That wasn't so bad, was it?" he asked, peering over her shoulder as his arms wrapped around her waist.
"No, still awful, but I'm alive, so," Diaval scoffed. Drama Queen, he thought, and then laughed.
Travel became easier now that they were away from watchful eyes. Diaval went to the stables and fetched a horse; a mostly black mare for them to ride that would blend into the night. He took the front seat and set Aurora up in the back. He felt that, having previously been a horse, he had much more experience with the species than she did. She didn't argue.
The two didn't say much on the ride. Perhaps it was fear of being heard or of being caught. Perhaps they just didn't wish to disturb the sanctity of the night, not yet at least. In reality though, the two knew they didn't need to talk. They felt no need to fill the silence with idle prattle.
Aurora wrapped her arms around Diaval's waist, mimicking his grip on her from earlier. She did it mainly so she wouldn't fall off, but the horse really wasn't moving fast enough to make her worry. They trotted quickly through town, trying to reduce the risk of discovery. Once outside of the city walls, Diaval slowed the horse to a walk.
They crossed a small stone bridge into the countryside, noticing many dilapidated houses and skinny cows standing ankle-deep in muddy fields. Aurora watched as their tails flicked flies like the pendulum of a grandfather clock, and they chewed, chewed, chewed. In the distance, Aurora noticed great expanses of white fog settling over the lowest points in the valley. It swirled around and hid sheep in its pillowy clouds, then moved to bathe short patches of corn in its wispy fingers.
Aurora leaned forward and rested her head on Diaval's back, listening to the calming rhythm of his heartbeat as the horse swayed beneath her.
"Falling asleep already?" Diaval joked.
"Just resting," she mumbled. He felt her jaw move along his ribs and her fingers readjust along his waist.
"You rest then. We have a long night ahead of us."
He felt Aurora's skin pull as she smiled at his words. He smiled with her and found that he couldn't stop. He dreamed of moments like these, where he could hold her close, or she him. He couldn't hear the part of his brain that liked to remind him of their father-daughter relationship, not tonight. Tonight the euphoria he felt over her touch bullied that voice into a corner. This felt so right, so perfectly right.
She shifted her position again, tightening her grip on his waist. Her touch ignited fires, if only under his skin. He felt himself melt, and gripped the horse's hair tighter, to keep from sliding. He wished he could see her, so peaceful as she drifted in and out of sleep, her brows clean lines, not crumpled in anguish over this and that. Of course, he wasn't complaining about what he had now either. Her touch was like melted butter; it made everything better.
As they crossed over the final stone bridge into the Moorlands and entered the forest, Diaval noticed something off. It was virtually noiseless, at least to him. At night, the Moors usually played host to a chorus of croaking frogs and Waller Bogs and a deafening buzz of winged insects. The wind should sing with the chirrups of crickets. He should hear the occasional owl questioning his passage. Tonight, however, the buzz seemed to be a low hum at best with only intermittent croaks.
Diaval straightened up as he strained to listen, hoping to hear the owl's soft question. Aurora felt his tension and pulled her head from him, blinking the sleep out of her eyes.
"What is it?" She whispered, yawning.
"Something's wrong," he answered, scanning the trees. A quiet forest generally meant a lurking predator.
The black horse continued her walk. A few more meters into the wood and the sound never picked up. In fact, it just seemed to get quieter. Then, a great woodsy crashing noise occurred, all rustling leaves and snapping branches.
The picture of stillness broke when a tall elm tree decided to bend over. The tree brought two thick leafy branched upside down over his… knees? The mare began backing away as the tree came down, and Diaval had to use every kind word he knew to calm her.
The tree settled back into relative stillness, its leaves still trembling, when two ovular sections of bark wrinkled back to reveal darker sections of bark; eyes.
Who goes there? It asked, its voice penetrating Diaval's mind rather than the air, deep as a quarry and rough as a sack of gravel. Diaval wondered if one answered it with thoughts as well.
"The Queen Aurora, and her companion, Diaval," he said aloud, after simply thinking the words proved useless. Oh, that sounds pitiful, Diaval thought. Her companion, like I'm her pet.
Aurora may pass, her 'companion', may not, the tree droned.
"What?" Diaval gasped.
"Who put these restrictions on the border?" Asked Aurora, finally piping up. Apparently she'd heard the tree in her mind too.
"Three guesses who," muttered Diaval, looking back. He turned to the tree again and explained that he was a close friend of Maleficent. "You may have seen me before, in another form. I am usually a crow."
No humans, save Aurora, are to enter the Kingdom of the Moors, repeated the tree guard, ignoring him.
"He is a friend of mine. I insist he come with me," Aurora pressed. The tree didn't budge. Diaval had to give it to him (her?), he/she was dedicated. But his appreciation was short lived, as the minutes on the clock continued ticking away. Nights were shorter this time of year; the sun would rise in a few hours
As Aurora and the tree continued their argument, with neither side gaining any ground, Diaval averted his attention to a light rustling of leaves to his left. A bird, perhaps? He thought. Odd, as the forest seemed nearly void of life until the tree sentinel showed up. Then it must be the wind. He tilted his head minutely as his ears picked up a rhythm. It sounded like… footsteps?
"Left them pass, Melchior," A deep, slightly annoyed voice rang out, "Really, you'd think he'd know your face by now Diaval."
The two riders jumped at the unknown speaker, spinning in their seats to face the direction it came from. The first thing they saw were her emerald green eyes and apple red lips, glowing like a lightening bug against the blackness of the night. When Maleficent finally stepped into the light, the moon painting a silvery glow over her athletic build, they smiled at each other.
"Godmother!" Aurora said, sliding off the horse and running into the great fairy's outstretched arms. She buried her face into the woman's chest, inhaling the earthy green aroma of her wool dress like it was the finest perfume. "We have so much to tell you."
Maleficent pulled away from the girl and glanced at Diaval, still on horseback. He had stopped smiling. Maleficent's smile faded as she realized this was not a friendly visit.
"Then come, there is no time to waste."