Maleficent was floating on the verge of slumber as her servant's hands were traveling across her bare back. He had been at it for nearly one hour, diligently melting away her knots, when she heard him whisper:
"Mistress?"
Maleficent forced herself to remain still. She knew he wanted to be sure if he should keep going, something she preferred not to be answering. Of course, she should have stopped him quite some time ago, but something inside her craved for his delightful caresses to continue just a bit longer. When – to her enjoyment – he kept massaging her even though she didn't answer, she wondered how he would behave around her if he thought she was asleep, and kept pretending deep slumber.
Eventually, he stopped and laced her gown back. She heard a rustle of fabric and felt something covering her. A small smile tugged at her lips as she realised he was actually tucking her into bed. It amazed the fairy how attentive and devoted her servant was to her, even when he thought she wasn't aware of it.
"Sweet dreams, Mistress," he whispered fondly, sending a warm feeling through her chest.
To be honest, it felt quite good to be cared for. Even though she didn't trust him enough to have actually given in to slumber, she appreciated his attentions. It felt like each time he proved his dedication and selflessness, her resolve to never trust anyone ever again would crumble tiny bit by tiny bit. That simple fact terrified her, but also gave her hope. Hope for a better future. Hope that maybe she wasn't broken beyond repair after all. Hope that one day, she could give him the trust he deserved.
Slowly, she opened her eyes to watch him. He was seated against the tree trunk next to his reading things, and a familiar piece of paper was in his hands.
"Do you know what it says yet?" she asked rather loudly, startling him in the process.
Diaval turned to her quickly and was glad to note she looked much better. The pain-contorted expression she has been trying to hide before had vanished, and he was even sure he spotted a glint of amusement in her eyes when he jumped upward.
Her frown reminded him she was waiting for an answer, and he indulged at once:
"I do and it's pretty worrying, Mistress. Shall I read it to you?"
She moved to sit right next to him so she could see the source of his concern. Weirdly, she found herself totally at ease, even though their legs and shoulder were almost touching, and she wondered when exactly she had started to feel so comfortable near her servant.
The fairy gestured for him to start reading, and listened to his steady voice. He was reading slowly, following the symbols with his finger, only stumbling over a few words here and there. The paper was in fact from a group of men – fervent supporters of King Henry in his war against the Moors - called "The Rightful King". They didn't recognize Stephan as their true ruler because he lied when he had claimed to have killed Maleficent, and they intended to get to the throne by killing the fairy themselves and bringing back her head. The paper was to look for new members with the same convictions and inform people that any information on the fairy's whereabouts would be highly rewarded.
"What do we do, Mistress?"
Maleficent sighed and leaned her head against the hard wood behind her, closing her eyes. She hadn't expected that turn of events, and she wasn't sure how to handle it. As if she had the time to deal with another bunch of wannabe kings. Was power the only thing that mattered to humans, really?
She cracked an eye open and met the onyx orbs of her servant. She could tell he was worried.
"What do you have in mind?" She asked absent-mindedly.
"I should go investigate."
Another sigh left her. It made sense, but they simply had no time to spare for that, especially these days.
"I want you here for the patrols, Diaval," she reminded him sternly.
"I'll go on the evenings," he replied at once.
"What about the castle?"
Since the first snow he was going to the castle on the evenings, after patrolling most of the day with her, as diner time seemed to be one of the best moments to gather gossips and news. They decided their evening strolls would resume after the snow was gone.
It was much more taxing for him, but in exchange she granted him one or two days off per week.
"The danger doesn't come from there at the moment," he pointed out grimly.
She turned her head and focused her gaze on the raven turned man. He didn't understand, did he? She didn't care about danger. She didn't care about getting hurt or even dying. The only thing she lived for right now was to make him pay. She wanted him to beg for her forgiveness, she wanted him to be humiliated in front of his people, just like she was, every single day. He had been too coward to kill her that night, and she hated him for it. She would make him dearly regret having not spilled her blood when he had the chance. She would have preferred death a thousand times over the horrifying feeling of betrayal and the agony - and shame - of being grounded forever. The worst part was that she was pretty sure she still loved him at some level, and for that she hated herself as well.
"I don't send you there because of the danger. I send you there because I need information in order to get to him," she gritted through clenched teeth.
"And how will you get to him if you're killed by those men?" He said, mimicking with ease the disgusted tone she used to designate the king.
"What makes you think I'm afraid of filthy humans? I am a powerful fairy, Diaval, not a stupid bird," she replied haughtily.
His feather would have been ruffled by her words if he was in raven form, but in his human form, he managed not to let show his indignation. He had been expecting a mean comment from her anyway, as it seemed to be her way of shutting him up whenever she didn't want to look a truth in the eye. That and changing him to his raven self, he mused.
"Yet, if it wasn't for a stupid bird, you may not be here and well right now," he sulked moodily.
She didn't say anything - didn't even change him - and only scowled at him. The raven-man knew it was a good sign. At least she recognized he was right and was giving him a chance to convince her.
However, something else was worrying him: She didn't seem to have a problem risking her own life in order to get her revenge on the king. That thought alarmed him a great deal, and he suddenly remembered something the healer fairy that helped saving Maleficent had told him before disappearing in the forest: Don't let her give up on life. He had been too panicked to understand the extent of it at the time, but now he did. Back then; she didn't fight the infection directly because she had given up on life. Even now, the only thing she lived for was her revenge, and he failed to see how that could make things better. Of course, he didn't blame her for it. Revenge wasn't in a bird's nature, but who knew how he would react if he was to lose his wings? He was pretty sure he would want to die, but seeking revenge? With his new human emotions, he weirdly found himself wanting to hurt the king for what he did to his mistress, so he couldn't be certain. In any case, focusing only on that wouldn't bring back her wings nor her happiness.
He was willing to risk being a dog to tug her out of it, if only a little, just enough to make her also focus on healing and moving on. Maybe staying a bit more on the ground with her would help… Making her laugh would definitely help. He had to think about it…
"Mistress, I don't need to go to the castle every day to know what's going on in there. I could only attend the weekly meetings and go investigate on this group of humans the other days," he suggested meekly.
"If I had known you would get lazy with time I would have disposed of you sooner," she replied with an annoyed voice.
He rolled his eyes at that, determined to ignore her petty accusations.
"They will come back and try to hurt you, Mistress. We can't just ignore it and wait for them to strike."
We. She wondered when exactly he had started to think as a we. The thought of it warmed her chest. It was nice to know someone was on her side when everybody was fleeing for her darkness.
Diaval didn't push the matter when she fell silent and took the paper from his hands to look at it pensively. He knew she would need some time to ponder over what had just been said, and even more if she was to change her mind about it.
"Where is my name?" she inquired curiously after a moment, her eyes scanning the piece of paper.
She didn't really care, but it would be a most welcomed distraction from her tormented thoughts. Not to mention it could be useful if she encountered human's writing to be able to recognize her name.
"It's there, you see?" he answered at once, pointing to a long word. "Wait, I'll write it down for you."
Before she could stop him, he had grabbed a blank piece of paper and was busily writing on the wooden board, all previous bickering long forgotten.
"See, Ma-le-fi-cent," he enunciated while following the word with his finger.
She realised it was the first time he'd ever said her name. She liked how it had rolled off his tongue almost reverently.
"What about your name?"
He wrote down a few symbols and showed it to her. He liked teaching her stuff for a change. It made him feel clever. Of course, he knew he was a clever bird, but he usually felt anything but in his stupid human shell. Knowing how to read was helping coping with it.
"It's shorter," she remarked, wondering if there was a reason to it.
"It's because when you say Maleficent, the sound of it already is much longer than when you say Diaval. The writing follows the speaking, sort of."
She nodded pensively. For all the time he had been complaining about learning how to read, he seemed to be very much at ease with it now. The fairy's curiosity was piqued ever further when his eagerness to display his new skill pushed him to show her a paper with the alphabet. He took his time explaining how humans were in fact using these fundamental symbols to write words, and that they also represented sounds.
As soon as he stopped blabbering, she took the paper from his hands and looked at the one he had been writing on to try and recognize the letters of her name.
"So this is 'ma'?" she asked, pointing to the M.
"Almost. It's mm, like Maleficent, Mistress or Moors. I'll show you," he said, writing the three words on the paper.
He then followed the words with his finger, reading them out loud for her.
"Hmm. Interesting..." she replied after a while, deep in thoughts.
She was growing alarmingly curious over such a meaningless thing, but she couldn't help it. She always had been curious about humans' practices, mostly because her appearance was in some ways closer to humans than it was to fairies.
"You know, I'm pretty sure you could learn it even faster than I did," he offered meekly.
She raised a magnificent eyebrow at that.
"Why would I want to do such a thing?" she asked contemptuously.
He shrugged, eyes on his reading things as if avoiding her piercing gaze.
"Could be useful. You know, like a hidden talent or something. Also, I was going to start writing down the recipes of the two balms I know about. Could use some help…"
She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously.
"Now, why would you do that?"
He shrugged again, a habit that was slowly growing to get on her nerves.
"Just so I won't forget…"
He didn't know if it was because of the continual shape-shifting or if humans were naturally prone to it, but he had found himself forgetting stuff, lately. A raven's mind felt things more than it knew things, so he never had that problem before. Mostly it was just some details he didn't care about, but he didn't want to take the risk of forgetting anything important.
"I'm not sure I want to learn something so specific to humans." She said, pronouncing the last word like it was some kind of insult.
He nodded knowingly. If it hasn't been for his natural curiosity and the need to protect her, he would have never even considered going through the trouble of learning something from humans.
"I understand, but upon observing them a lot, I think some of their ways have certain merit, and could be useful to us at some extent."
She wasn't sure if he was talking about the two of them or about the Moors in general. In any case, that was certainly an interesting idea...
Unlike the humans, the fair folk was a community of oral traditions and customs. No fae creature ever felt the need to produce any kind of written record. The young were taught by the older, and that was as far as it went. Knowledge was therefore often forgotten and rediscovered over the centuries.
Now, using human's writing to their advantage could help strengthen and preserve magic knowledge. On the long run, leaving a legacy to the future generations about something as trivial as her story could even prevent them from repeating the same mistakes.
"You really want to teach me this, don't you?" She asked with an exaggerated sigh.
"You've taught me lots, Mistress. I'm only looking forward to return the gesture," he replied with a lopsided smile.
Of course, he was hoping that would also serve as a distraction from her revenge plans and help her focus on getting better.
"I see…" She said absently.
Her lips flattened to a thin line as she thought about his crazy idea. It wouldn't do any harm to try, after all. Of course, the prospect of him becoming insufferably smug could make her regret her decision, but that was nothing she couldn't deal with.
"Alright. What do you propose I start with?"
He literally beamed at her, and before she had the chance to change her mind, he was shoving the board, papers and quill in front of her.
She winced in disgust at the feather.
"I do hope you're not expecting me to touch this, do you?" she warned, narrowing her eyes at him.
She was well aware that it was the only way he knew for humans to write, as it wasn't the first time they talked about it, but that was just too weird for her. If she was to learn writing, she would have to find another way to do so. Fortunately, Diaval was smart enough to not push the matter.
"Well, in this case, you could show me on the alphabet what letters are in your name, then," he suggested, taking the quill out of her sight.
To her surprise, the whole thing wasn't that boring at all. For each letter she found, he would tell her the sound of it and some examples of words starting with it. Soon after that, they did it again and this time he asked her to find some examples as well. Then they did it with his name, and with various words related to the Moors that he would write for her. In fact, it felt very much like a game, especially when it escalated to who's going to come up with the most words for each letter. She had to admit it was quite amusing.
By the time they grew tired of it, the sun had started to sink into the horizon. Maleficent was unwrapping her hair with a soft expression, pleased by the way the day had turned out.
Next to her, Diaval couldn't take his eyes away from her peaceful smile while he was stacking the board and papers. She looked so serene… It was mesmerizing to see her like that. She still hadn't laughed – although she had been very close to when he mock-fainted because she had noted that his name started with the same letter as the word "dog" – but she had chuckled several times, even jabbed him playfully in the side when he was being silly. He was pretty sure this kind of moments could help her heal, if only she allowed it to happen again.
"You know, with proper training, I bet you could read before the end of winter," the raven turned man offered with a smirk.
She looked at him and her lips curled up a bit. She let her hair loose and put the fabric in the hole of the trunk.
"And what would I read, hmm?"
He shrugged. "I don't know."
He had never really thought about that. Until now, the paper he had was more than enough to practice reading, but it was true they would get bored of it pretty quickly.
"We could go snatch some books from the village. They may have books about why humans are so mean and stupid," he sniggered.
She chuckled lightly at his words, unconsciously leaning into his shoulder. How come today was so nice? How come she could still find the energy to enjoy herself after everything she's been through? After losing her wings? Something inside her made her think the answer was in the raven-man sitting next to her. It was the first day they were spending together in the nest, after all, and it was the first day in a very long time she had been this close to being happy. It had to be somehow related.
Without thinking, she lowered her head to his shoulder, ignoring the usual urge to keep a safe distance between her and anything looking like a human male. Her servant may look like a man, but he was in no way one. She still didn't know exactly what he was to her – Her servant? Her pet? Her friend? – but she knew he was hers, and that was enough to soothe her fears for now.
Diaval frowned, a bit taken aback by her sudden display of affection. He was pretty sure she didn't need any comfort right now, but they were in the nest, so he figured the rules applied all the same. He tilted his head into hers in response and leaned against her body.
"This is nice," she whispered after a while, almost too low for him to hear.
"It is, Mistress," he murmured fondly.
At his words, she sat up straight, and before he could curse himself for whatever he said to break the moment, she turned toward him. Their eyes met. He recognized there the longing and vulnerability that seemed to appear only when she wanted to be in his arms. Diaval obliged at once, encircling her in his arms as she curled into his side. He breathed into her hair, revelling in the blissful feeling that came through his chest whenever she was cuddled against him. He had never been able to fully comprehend that feeling. Birds couldn't feel much apart from their needs - need to eat, need to drink, need to sleep – and the only thing he was sure of was that he needed her as much as he needed air to breathe.
Maleficent sighed in contentment, her head peacefully resting on his shoulder. Even if she couldn't begin to understand how it was possible, her servant had made her forget about her burden today. At some point, she had been so caught up in his explanations and their silly game that Stephan's betrayal had just slipped from her mind, and she had felt a little more like herself. On top of that, she couldn't feel the dull ache in her back, and the weather was so awful she would have never gone for a fly even if she had her wings. She could just close her eyes and feel the feathers in his hair to pretend they were hers. To pretend it was her wings cradling her into an embrace right now. Well, in a sense, it was…
Her fingers absently traced the scar on his chest from the opening of his shirt to his neck. He giggled and fidgeted under her touch.
"Mistress, it's ticklish," he protested feebly
She stopped and looked up at him with a raised eyebrow and defiantly impish eyes. A second later, she was resuming her ministration, this time tickling more than stroking his skin.
His light chuckle turned into laughter while he desperately tried to prod her fingers away from him. She stilled when he ended up holding her hand to prevent further tickling, and guided both their hands to rest on his chest.
Her playful smile faded and a serene expression took over her face.
When she had lost her wings she thought nothing would be like before, she thought she wouldn't be able to feel any positive emotions anymore so she buried herself in her duties to the Moors and plans for revenge. However, today had proved her she has been wrong. She was enjoying her day, probably for the first time since it happened, and she wanted to do this again. Not only the tickles or the reading, but the whole day with him. It was a most welcomed way out of her misery, and it was like she had found some pieces of herself along the way.
"We should do this more often," she whispered to herself.
"Tickling? Bah, you only say that because I can't defend my poor self," he teased warmly.
The fairy rolled her eyes. Leave it to Diaval to find an excuse to complain needlessly whatever the circumstances. She wasn't even talking to him.
"Who said you couldn't?"
The raven turned man tilted his head and frowned at her, searching on her face a hint that she wasn't serious. There was none. Her tiny smile was genuine and her raised eyebrow was playful.
"Alright. Then, we should most definitely do that more often," he said smugly.
She sighed, irritated at finding a part of her wanting the exact same thing.
"Whatever. I wasn't talking about that in the first place."
He refrained from asking what she was talking about and tucked his head back against hers. If she wanted him to know, she would have told him.
They didn't move at all for a while, only relishing in each other's warmth, until boredom got the best of Maleficent and she started playing with his hand. Naturally, Diaval obediently followed her impulse. He was particularly reactive to her touch, responding to even the slightest of her moves, and she liked that very much. She found herself tracing the lines of his palm, while his fingers were delicately exploring the back of her hand.
"I like your hands, Mistress. They're just like mine," he declared suddenly.
She raised an eyebrow at that and joined their palms as if to compare them.
"Yours are bigger," she observed nonchalantly.
His index finger stroked hers reverently.
"Yours are softer."
She mimicked his movement and smiled, before pulling his hand on his chest and coming back to her senses.
"Is there a point to all this or are you happy just stating the obvious?"
He tilted in head in a very birdlike manner. He was only trying to voice his thoughts to her, just like she had asked him to do. To be honest, ever since they discovered that some other humans wanted to hurt her, he had found himself weirdly uncomfortable in his human skin, and the fact that she hadn't changed him back since the day before didn't help either.
"I mean it's quite comforting to find myself looking a bit like you in this shape."
She gave him a sceptical look, as if waiting for an explanation.
"It proves I'm not as evil as the monsters who put these traps there for you," he explained gloomily.
He didn't really think that he was like them, but in this shape, a part of him felt closer to them than he was to her, and he didn't like that. It just didn't feel right.
"You're far from evil, Diaval." she said quietly. "Therefore I'm not sure looking like me would make you less evil, you know," she replied with as much indifference as she could manage.
He snuggled closer and intertwined his fingers with hers in an attempt to ease her mind.
"I know you're not evil, Mistress. You may want everybody to think that, but you can't fool me," he teased with a slight smirk.
She ignored the fact that he had overstepped the rules and stayed silent for a while, avoiding his gaze. One must be blind or stupid to not see she had turned evil a long time ago, consumed by hatred, bitterness and revenge. It had been her intention in the first place, to repel everyone around her. It was the only way she knew to protect herself from further harm.
"What makes you think I'm not evil?" She asked on an even tone.
There were so many things he could pick to prove his point, but only one she couldn't deny openly.
"You care for every living soul in the Moors." He paused, before adding cautiously, "You care for me."
Her gaze met his wary eyes and she saw on his face the silent question.
"I do," she admitted faintly.
She averted her eyes, as if ashamed of what she just revealed. The raven turned man let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and squeezed her hand comfortingly. Those two little words hadn't been easy for her to say, but they meant the world to him.
"I care for you too, Mistress," he confessed in a soft voice.
Her emerald eyes met his onyx orbs once more. He looked into her soul, thinking of everything she was to him, and hoped his human's features were sharp enough to show her just how much he meant every single word.
Diaval's heart skipped a beat when she smiled at him. She believed him. He smiled back and broke eye contact, only to hold her tighter and instinctively nudged at her head with his.
They were growing close, that was a fact Maleficent couldn't deny anymore, but what surprised her most was how she actually felt about it. She wasn't reluctant, or suspicious, she was… Well, she was ok with it. She could use a friend, after all, and it wasn't like he was really human or anything.
She nudged back and settled her head in the crook of his neck, like she used to do it. Without her wings – without flying – she thought life was not worth living, but she realised she had been wrong all along. Nothing could make up for the loss she suffered, of course, but she could hold on to other things. She could enjoy Diaval's presence, their witty bickering, their tender moments, and let him awaken the parts of her she thought were lost forever.
Many thanks to Rabbit887, HornedGoddess, Chan123 and 91kaycee for your reviews, and lots of love to DancingKitKat, my lovely beta! For those of you who are still wondering, yes Maleficent is going to curse Aurora and all but not entirely for the same reasons as in the movie (and it's gonna be in quite some time)