Aurora had always disliked her stays in the human kingdom.
The oppressive castle walls suffocated her without the open sky for her to look up at, and somehow the air always felt musty and stagnant. Her bed, though comfortable, was excessive, and she felt as though she were always drowning in unnecessary fabric.
There were no fantastic creatures to get to know, no forest sounds to lull her to sleep at night, no faery lights to chase in the dark. She was expected to be poised and refined at all times, while on the moors the most that was expected of her was to be genuine and true.
But most importantly there was no Maleficent.
She was not there in her free time, or at meals, or at council meetings. She was not there in the mornings to wake up to, nor was she there to curl up to at night.
There were only thick stone walls, empty corridors, and floors that were too cold to walk barefoot on, as she much preferred. Even when she did wear shoes, her heels clicked so loud against the surface that it echoed ominously, only further reminding her of her loneliness within the confines of the castle.
To Aurora, human life was as constricting as the corset she was forced to wear there.
This stay was different, though.
She had only been there for two weeks and yet it was already far worse than she had remembered it being.
She woke up at least once a night with a racing heart and the sheets damp with sweat. All the food she was presented with made her stomach churn, and the most she could eat was a few bites before she sent for it to be taken away. The loud echo of her footsteps now was not only a reminder of her isolation; each step she took within those harsh castle walls made her body physically ache.
She found that the humans she was forced to interact with made her hackles rise in distrust, as though she were able to detect ulterior motives and greed on their breath like ale. Anything she was forced to do suddenly became nearly impossible for her to concentrate on long enough to accomplish.
The only things that were able to ease Aurora's suffering were Diaval, who followed her like a shadow through the castle, and a single amber brown feather of Maleficent's that she had saved when she found it in their nest in the oak tree.
Aurora would take the feather in her hand and run her fingers over its silky texture in a rhythmic pattern. Having that little piece of the faery, her faery, with her was like a reassurance that Maleficent was still real and tangible, even while so far away.
She was doing just this on a particularly uncomfortable morning when she was called to attend a council meeting.
Aurora's lady-in-waiting, a petite woman a year or so older than her with dark brown hair by the name of Ella, had grown accustomed to young queen's strange ways, even trying to help her be more comfortable by bringing fresh flowers to her room and escorting her out for strolls in the castle gardens.
But when she came to help Aurora that morning and found her staring out the window, clutching the feather with one hand while the other was trying to reach behind her to scratch at her shoulder blades, Ella couldn't help but be slightly worried.
She had noticed Aurora's strange eyes, the way they burned bright gold when she spoke of the moors or Maleficent, but then darkened to a deep and sad blue. While helping with the girl's hair and dresses she couldn't help but noticed the elfin ears, even trying to hide them from the others with her choice of hairstyles for the queen.
This was different, though. As she approached her queen, she could see the distracted look in her flickering eyes and it was easy to tell that she had been up all night. Nearby, Diaval clacked his beak and fluttered his wings. He had stayed up with the girl and tried to soothe her restless temper but nothing had helped. Still, Aurora had refused to allow the bird to fetch Maleficent.
She did not ask the queen anything, or try to get her to release her grip on the feather. She only drew her away from the window and helped her get ready for the day.
Ella took a cold washcloth to her face and washed away the sweat that had broken over the queen's forehead before arranging the girl's blonde hair in a way that would cover her pointed ears once again. While helping the queen into her dress, she turned a blind eye to the red scratches on either sides of her spine.
She linked an arm with Aurora's and walked down the corridor with her until they came to the door that led to the room where the rest of the council waited.
"I'll come for you when the meeting is over," Ella assured her, smiling slightly. "Afterwards we could take a walk in the gardens, if you'd like."
She turned to leave and attend to other matters, but Aurora caught her by the arm. The queen stared long at her friend, or at least what she thought to be the closest thing she had to one at the castle. "You know, for a human you aren't all that bad," she said after a moment before ducking into the room, and Ella took this as the highest of compliments she could have received.
As the door clicked shut behind her, Aurora found herself facing a large table with the assemblage of council members seated around it; they all rose to their feet with her entrance. She dipped her head to them respectfully, and they all took their seats once more.
She exhaled a quiet sigh of relief when she saw Diaval slip in through an open window and perch somewhere above them.
Aurora took her seat at the head of the table and glanced quickly over the parchment that was laid before her. Numbers, figures, reports that all meant nothing to her. She pretended to look over them for a few moments longer, trying to subdue the pounding in her head.
"Your Majesty?"
Aurora looked up and fixed the man who had disturbed her with a glare that would have made Maleficent proud.
"Yes, Lord Alistair?" she hissed. Above, Diaval flinched at the ice her voice. He had never heard Aurora sound so very callous.
The man cleared his throat before continuing, taken off guard by the queen's sudden change in demeanor. "Now that matters with repairs to the castle and kingdom have been taken care of after the de-" A warning glare from Aurora caused Lord Alistair to reconsider his statement before continuing. "-after the incident almost a year and a half ago, I believe it might be time to turn our attention to more pressing matters."
"Such as?" Her voice was emotionless; her mind was somewhere else entirely.
The answer this time came from the other side of the table, from a stern-faced man with beady eyes and grey hair by the name of Lord Cederic.
"Perhaps like trying to save the failing economy of the kingdom? You refuse to allow the iron-workers to continue making weapons as a safeguard against the moors; that alone put a halt to any economic growth we managed to obtain during King Stefan's rule…"
Aurora had tuned out the old man's ranting as soon as he rose to spoke. He was vehemently against her decisions to not allow her rule over the moors to be used to give the human kingdom any advantage. He would never admit it out loud, but she knew he still clung to the old ambitions of the previous kings.
Instead she ran her thumb over the length of the feather and tried to make the room stop spinning with sheer willpower. Aurora brought a hand to the bridge of her nose, hoping that adding pressure might force the headache out of her body.
Since that night, every inch of her body had ached. Her limbs felt heavy and her mind felt shrouded in a haze. She felt as though the air around her was on fire, yet she shivered with an unnatural cold.
And of course there was the relentless burning, itching, searing irritation just under the skin of her shoulder blades. Something told her that if she scratched hard enough, dug her nails in deep enough it might end the maddening sensation; it reminded her vaguely of the undeniable urge for her to prick her finger the day of her birthday.
Her attention was called back to the meeting when Lord Cederic thrust something folded in cloth at her across the table.
Aurora took the parcel in her hands as he continued, but did not yet unfold it.
"Our iron workers are talented, and as much as those damned creatures on the moors have somehow fooled you into believing they are peaceful, you would do well to heed my advice and restore the iron industry lest we fall under their attack once more!"
Aurora's anger scorched through everything else as she rose to her feet to glare at the man across the table, a familiar and ominous green flaring in her eyes. "And you would do well to remember that I am your queen, as well as the queen of the moors that you so readily condemn before me!"
The rest of the council fell silent in shock at the queen's outrage as she continued, daggers in every word she spoke.
"Fall under attack? You lying bastard! Your grey hair and limp in your walk tells me you should know well that it was never the moors who attacked this greed-ridden kingdom, but your own gluttonous kings who waged war against the Fair Folk. Or perhaps you are too senile to distinguish between fact and fiction anymore."
She took the heavy object he had presented her with and unwrapped the cloth to reveal an ornately crafted iron dagger meant to be an example of the value of the iron business.
"I will not have you bring weapons meant to harm the Fair Folk into my castle agai- ahh!"
The dagger dropped to the table immediately. All members of the council turned to stare at the queen, and the one nearest to her stood to help her. Aurora recoiled from the object before her, staring down in disbelief at the burn on her hand where the metal had made contact with her skin.
Diaval had swooped down from above, trying to get Aurora's attention to focus on him and him alone to calm her panicked heart.
Aurora could see the large black bird but could not keep his figure in focus, and the edges of her vision were growing gradually fuzzier.
"Bring me Maleficent," she demanded of him, but Diaval had already flown off towards the moors.
While Ella was found to take Aurora to her chambers and care for her, Diaval was flapping almost comically fast as he raced to the borders of the moors.
Relief flooded through his fatigued wings when he saw her standing tall at the edge of the forest, wings twitching nervously.
"Something's happened," she stated more than asked.
Without waiting for his reply she leapt to the sky, the force of her downstroke leaving Diaval wondering how he ended up on the ground before gathering himself up to follow the dark faery.
Oh Beastie, I'm so sorry.