A/N: Shoutout to RedHood001 for letting a ho know that this chapter looked like code-vomit. Hopefully things look better know. Enjoy ;)
Stars Hide Their Fires
Maleficent lead the two castle fugitives to the stream, the same section of shoreline that functioned as the group's usual meeting spot before Aurora pricked her finger. Diaval remembered the first time they came here; a family of Wallerbogs was bathing in the mineral muds when Aurora went to say hello. The first Wallerbog, struck by the princess's beauty, bashfully attempted to offer her a white flower. Aurora leaned in to accept it, smiling politely at the grayish- pig-like creature, when a cold, wet clod of mud hit her smack in the back. She froze, unaccustomed to the typical Wallerbog "hello". Though shocked by the projectile, Aurora did not huff, puff, or even frown, she simply responded in kind. She gathered a dripping handful of muck from the slime-coated river bed and slung it right back at them, a childish giggle on her lips. The ball sent the Wallerbog splashing into the water, his friends oinking with laughter. The noise drew others from their mud baths, coming to see what fun was to be had. Diaval smiled at the memory. No one left the stream clean that night, but nobody cared. Alas, how the times have changed.
As they approached the water, Diaval noticed how the dreadful quiet and near lifelessness from earlier persisted. For a Moorland waterway, the site looked decidedly un-magical. Honestly, it reminded Diaval of a stream in Aurora's kingdom; dark, cold, and exceedingly boring. Moorland waters always seemed to glow from within; this one barely reflected the moon. The rocks and foliage all used to shimmer like every surface had been kissed with fairy dust, but what he saw now just seemed dusty and dull. Only last week, hundreds of fireflies filled the night air, their lights as bright as earth-bound stars in their vitality. Now, only three or four bugs blinked weakly, more dying candles than cosmic fires.
He noticed that the water sprites were missing too. He'd looked forward to seeing their nightly dance, a spectacular, colorful light show set beautifully on a dark watery canvas. He couldn't even hear their music in the distance. He remembered the sound of their every step sounding like a million tiny bells ringing in unison. He found himself doubly sad at their absence as he remembered they were Aurora's favorite too. She would be so disappointed.
Always an open book, especially when he experience displeasure, Diaval grimaced widely.
"What is going on here?" he whispered to Maleficent. "Where is everybody?"
"I'm not sure. We've had less and less come out as the days go by but, tonight…" her voice faded as she scanned the landscape and struggled to find words. Diaval's eyes widened as he saw something lurking in her iridescent orbs, something soft and fragile that he'd only ever seen once before; worry.
The topic dropped as they came to the water's edge. Aurora peeked into the water, checking to see if perhaps the sprites were just hiding, or sleeping beneath a blanket of algae. She saw nothing. Her face fell, curiosity crumbling into disappointment. It only lasted for a moment before she tightened her lips and turned around. She joined Maleficent on a low hanging branch of a nearby oak while Diaval leaned darkly against an adjacent tree trunk, his arms crossed over his chest.
They told Maleficent everything, starting with the moment Aurora foolishly welcomed Ravenna with literal open arms into her kingdom to the sight of her carriage kicking up dust as she fled. Maleficent listened, analyzing the story with the precision of a general. Her face went tight when she heard Diaval tell the much-abridged version of his encounter with the evil Queen. He skimmed over her attacking him, still feeling sheepish over his inability to defend himself. Maleficent watched as he pulled on his sleeve then folded his good arm over the other, trying to hide the makeshift bandages, but she saw them and she knew. Her alabaster teeth, usually gleaming in a smile, clenched beneath her blood red lips.
Aurora bit her lip as they finished their story, anxiously awaiting some piece of fix-it-all wisdom from the winged sage. Diaval too, less obviously, tilted his head forward, awaiting orders. Maleficent steepled her fingers and rested them over pursed lips. Her thick eyebrows furrowed in deep though as she stared intently at a swatch of long, swaying grasses, concentrating.
"I cannot fathom," she began, brining her hands from her face, speaking slowly, "why she would so brazenly visit your kingdom other than to scout it for Stephan, as you suggested Aurora. He must wish to know what changes occurred upon his death, so that he may right them when he returns." Aurora nodded politely, but Diaval's eyes hardened as he read right through her response; truthfully, she was just as stumped as they were. Her guesses were grasping at straws.
Aurora glanced up at Diaval as Maleficent looked away, searching for answers in the delicately wafting blades of grass. The young Queen's large blue eyes, caught Diaval's tight black ones, growing even tighter as he noted her worry. Worry quickly shifted to dread as she understood the meaning of Diaval's expression; Maleficent doesn't know—we're on our own.
"I do find it odd that she was so interested in you, Diaval," Maleficent continued, ignorant to the silent conversation that had just taken place. She wasn't sure if Diaval was the main focus of her visit, or just a side quest. Just thinking about his encounter with Ravenna disgusted the horned fairy; how dare she even think about touching him, about taking him away? Her companion? Her closest friend? It made her blood boil to hear of a sorceress with such blatant disrespect for the rules.
"I do as well," Diaval responded, looking away as memories replayed in his head of all Ravenna's lewd suggestions. They made his stomach turn. He hugged himself closer. "She must have had some kind of ulterior motive."
"I didn't want to say it, but yes. I doubt she wanted you for all your manly goodness," The corners of her lips turned up as a laugh bubbled up behind her lips. That was the only amusing part of this to her, how the witch played upon Diaval's fragile masculinity. She could only imagine the confusion on his face at the time. He shot her his "not amused" face, the one he used every time Maleficent played tricks in poor taste.
"What would she need him for then?" asked Aurora, refusing to tease Diaval further, but still trying to cover her own smile.
"Well, she wouldn't be the first person of royal blood to fancy a collection of magical creatures. Perhaps she intended to make Diaval her newest addition." Diaval shivered at the thought. He was not an object to place on a shelf, or in a cage. He may have been born a crow, but he identified with the humans just as much as the birds now. Neither species was meant for captivity.
"There is no way that was her only goal. Why would she go through so much trouble and risk just to add another creature to her collection? There must be something else, something we're missing," pushed Aurora. Maleficent thought for another moment.
"Did she talk about anything specific? Perhaps a certain place, or an object?"
"She spoke of finding a rookery. Said she liked bird watching," Maleficent's eyes flickered to Diaval's and he returned the glace, black eyes growing round with realization. Aurora continued, unaware, "Do you think she was waiting for correspondence? A carrier pigeon?"
"An empty birdcage was among her luggage," Diaval continued. "It was clean too. She didn't bring a bird with her, she intended to take one back!"
She was looking for me. Diaval though, his blood turning cold. That's why she came, she was looking for me. That cage was meant for me.
But Diaval still couldn't wrap his head around the why. For some reason he could not believe Maleficent's theory about him becoming the newest attraction at some sort of sick enchanted menagerie. How would she even know about a shape-shifting crow? He'd never left Aurora's kingdom; the farthest he went was when he unearthed Stefan's grave. Could she have seen him change while he was in the cemetery? Or was it the undertaker, peeking through the window?
"No, I think that was still related to Diaval," Maleficent continued, answering Aurora. "So capturing Diaval was clearly a large priority for her, but was it her only one? She must have something else going on. She wouldn't risk her whole operation just to expand her zoo," Maleficent continued, quietly speaking her train of thought to the other two.
"Did she show any interest in the graveyard when you gave her a tour? Some lore states that the undead must sleep with soil from their grave to stay alive."
Diaval grimaced. Aurora shook her head.
"He isn't really undead though," Diaval replied quickly, unable to get off the idea of how close he was to being kidnapped, "just in the body of another. Like a soul transplant."
Maleficent placed her fingers over her chin, thinking. Diaval looked at the sky when neither woman spoke. The Great Bear in the stars had shifted. It's snout now kissed the horizon. Maleficent looked up too, unsure of how to continue.
"It's getting late. The sun will be up in a few hours."
Maleficent stood from her perch, taking her walking stick from the forked twig she rested it on. The cane served more as a reminder of her past than as a support piece now, but she still kept it around. Perhaps one day it would come in handy, as it had when she first lost her wings.
"The plot thickens," murmured the Great Fairy, feeling old despite her youth. Fairies didn't age as humans did, nor did any magical creature. Still, these sixteen years of anger and fear took their toll on her.
"I must do more research, consult some friends, and think deeply on this matter. But for now, you must protect each other now. With Stefan inevitably after Aurora's throne, and Ravenna after Diaval, neither of you are safe. Double your guards and have them on the look out for Ravenna. Other than that, there is nothing we can do now."
"What do you mean? Can't we go after her?" asked Aurora springing from her seat, incredulous.
"That is not the way of the Moors, Aurora," answered Diaval softly, stepping away from the tree and into the moonlight. He felt slightly disenchanted with the idea of peaceful relations himself. He wasn't happy about it, but he couldn't argue either. Ravenna held real strength, and he didn't want to provoke it any more than he needed to. He had heard of her metal soldiers, the ones who could reform out of their own shattered pieces. It made him wonder why she needed him when she already had this caliber of magic under her pointed hat. "The Moorfolk celebrate a long-held tradition of peace. To attack another land would destroy an over 300 year old decision."
"But she attacked us first!"
"And she left. Self-defense is permitted, but to descend upon her in her home would be a major violation of our law," Maleficent said.
Aurora sat down with a quiet noise of exasperation and promptly slumped over. She held her head in her hands, frustrated again with the ways of government. Maleficent looked down at her, face full of pity at the massive weight placed on the teenager's shoulders. She shouldn't have to deal with this, not at her age. She tried to help carry some of the weight, provide pearls of wisdom when she could, but there was a certain portion that the Great Fairy simply couldn't help with. Maleficent looked to Diaval, who stood watching the fretting girl with the same pity and sadness she had. He truly did love her, just as Maleficent loved her; they felt the love of a parent who never wants to see their child unhappy, but unfortunately, Aurora had not felt much happiness since she'd taken the throne. Happily Ever After seemed more like a joke everyday.
"Thank you for coming tonight," said Maleficent softly, speaking over Aurora's head to Diaval. "I'll contact you if I think of anything, anything we can do in the meantime. Let me know if anything else happens."
"Of course," he answered. Maleficent took a few steps towards Diaval's tree, coming back the way she came, when she stopped parallel to him and spoke without turning.
"And if you see that wretched woman again, you have permission from the steward of the Moors to tear her apart in the name of self-defense."
Diaval smirked. Maleficent gave him a small smile back before continuing on her way.
He waited on the tree for a few more minutes, tuning his advanced hearing to pick up any sobs, cries, or sniffles. He heard not one. When Aurora finally lifted her head it looked as if she'd just woken up. Her skin appeared slightly paler than before, and she squinted despite her efforts to open her eyes wide. He knew she hadn't fallen asleep behind the platinum curtain of her hair, only contemplated her options. She sucked in a deep breath, in through her nose, out through her mouth, and then tilted her head to the sky.
"It's a beautiful night," she started.
"Yes, it's completely cloudless. And the moon has already sunk below the horizon line. The moonrise is short this time of year."
"We should probably go then," she began, still gazing motionless at the sky.
"Yes."
"But can we stay a little while longer?" Diaval looked at her face grimly, trying to give the impression he would say no, thinking that perhaps she'd rescind the request if she saw a refusal in his eyes. She didn't. They really did need to leave, but, he wouldn't mind spending a few extra minutes under the stars with her. He released a puff of air crumbling his stern façade like a brown autumn leaf.
"Only a few minutes."
Aurora smiled and slipped off the branch. In one fluid motion she sprawled out on the grass, belly up, in full starfish formation. The starlight played with her hair, casting deep shadows next to blinding highlights, giving Aurora an edgier look than Diaval was used to. Even her eyes, usually the most royal of blues appeared gray tonight. The dulling of colors did not mar Aurora's beauty, merely changed his perception of it. Tonight, as the shadows and silver light crept over her skin, she became a fascinating shade of mystery that Diaval desperately wanted to uncover.
"Aren't you going to join me?" she asked, after Diaval remained leaning on the tree, watching her.
"If you wish,"
He settled down next to her, folding one hand behind his head and crossing the other over his middle, all too aware of Aurora's hand lying on the grass next to him. He looked up at the night sky, a thousand tiny fireflies stuck winking in the eternal blackness, far more diligent in their twinkling than the earth-bound ones.
He immediately found Andromeda in the sky, a V-shaped smattering of stars depicting the beautiful Aetheopian Princess. Her mother, the boastful Queen Cassiopeia (whose constellation lay just above her daughter's) claimed that Andromeda's beauty surpassed that of the sea nymphs, angering the sprites' father, the sea god Poseidon. When Poseidon sent a sea monster to ravage the Kingdom in retaliation, Cassiopeia offered up her daughter to the monster by chaining her to a sea rock. Diaval imagined Aurora looking much like Andromeda did then, spread eagle and waiting for disaster to strike. He thought of Perseus then too, Andromeda's rescuer.
Perseus had just returned from slaying the Gorgon when he saw Andromeda. She, the youthful damsel-in-distress, so struck the hero in her beauty that he nearly fell off his horse. When he finally landed to see her, he immediately fell in love and told her parents that, if he could have her hand, he would save her and the Kingdom from the terrible beast sent to kill her. If only I could be like Perseus, Diaval thought; suave, heroic, and able to save fair maidens with only my brawn and good looks.
Thinking of the Greek hero caused a sudden rush of bravery to well up within the dark haired man. He reached out and grasped Aurora's hand, still warm beside him. God was it soft. He heard the soft crunching of grass as her head turned towards him. Confusion. Concern. He could feel it. His mind tore through possible excuses for his behavior.
"Don't worry Aurora, we'll make it through this," he said, gliding his thumb over her knuckles, approaching the situation as if he meant to comfort her. He turned his head to judge her reaction, and found her smiling. Her eyes were wide and pupils fat from the dark but shining underneath like a river stone.
They lay like that for several long moments, silently studying each other, every curve and line of their features, the way their nostrils grew and shrank with each beautiful breath. Aurora noticed the sharpness of his nose, casting a shadow so razor straight it could cut skin. Too, she noticed the perfect symmetry of his face, how the sides of his widow's peak were even and his eyes were exactly the right distance from his nose and how if you folded him in half he would match perfectly on either side like the covers of your favorite book. And his eyes, so deep and black tonight that she could see herself falling and becoming blissfully lost in their vastness; their warmth called her into their void and how she wanted to answer that call.
Diaval couldn't help but notice how her eyes were the exact shade of crystal blue as a frozen stream, thawing in springtime. It only made sense, as she was the one to warm Maleficent's icy heart, and in effect, his own. Diaval found himself fascinated by the delicate curvature of her lips, two gentle slopes like twin mountains balanced over a low valley. He traced their shape with his eyes and noticed how perfectly they would fit the shape of his.
Perhaps, he thought, I should test it.
For the second time that night, he felt a rush of courage.
He leaned over, slowly, slowly so to give her time to refuse, to back away, but she didn't. He came close and hovered before her; his eyes shut, their noses brushed, their breath mingled, and their lips met. Softly, he touched his mouth to hers, chaste, restrained even, for fear of rejection, and of his own self-control. He was terrified of becoming one of the men Maleficent talked about, sweet-talking liars, and animals in every sense of the word. Only, he was an actual animal, at least some of the time. But tonight he thought maybe he could choose not to be.
After the slightest brush of their lips, he felt her return the gesture, lifting her chin to meet his lips again, accepting his invitation. That was all he needed.
He deepened the kiss, wanting to feel her lips as they enveloped his. She returned his fervor, tasting him very unlike a connoisseur and more like a woman on a diet tastes chocolate cake. She took her far hand off the grass and brought it to cup his jaw, feeling the bone as her finger smoothed over his flesh. She hit a scar, terribly ridged, but rather than pull away, she traced it; her finger danced over all the little imperfections that caused him such self loathing, the tiny peaks and valleys, pockets and bumps. They were the marks that made him different, special, and utterly unique.
He shuddered as her gossamer touch fluttered over his skin, tickling the sensitive flesh. He felt as though he must use his hands as well, and so he placed one hand on her waist, now open to touch since she turned to her side. He didn't employ much movement, didn't want to frighten her by seeming too eager, but she clearly did not have the same qualms. He nearly lost himself when she began tracing his scar; he had to break from her lips for a moment to breathe, finding his nose incapable of collecting enough air. He released a hot puff, and in the same moment sucked another in, taking Aurora with it. He kissed her like she was the last drop of drink in a glass, for her lips were like wine, and oh God, how he wanted to get drunk.