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Chapter 2: Puppy Teeth

"I'm bored."

The words, spoken all of a sudden, made Diaval jump. With an expectant frown, he turned to look at Maleficent. The faerie met his questioning gaze with a raised eyebrow.

They had been walking through the forest that was once again bustling with life, taking in the damage, mending snapped twigs and whatnot as they went. Due to a series of heavy thunderstorms they hadn't been able to roam the moors as often as they used to – well, Maleficent hadn't been able to but wherever she was Diaval would trail in her wake so it really didn't make much of a difference – and the faerie had a lot of work to catch up to.

Still holding his gaze, Maleficent waved a careless hand at something behind her. Looking past his mistress, Diaval saw a fallen branch rise up from the ground and take its original position in the high crown of a nearby tree, wood and bark mending together until it looked as if nothing had ever happened. Like so often, Diaval marvelled at the faerie's power.

Taking a moment to consider Maleficent's words, he then refocused on his mistress.

"How so?"

Maleficent scoffed. "Because there's nothing left for me to do. That-" She pointed a slender finger at the branch she had just moved. "Was the last one."

Sensing danger approach – a bored Maleficent was never a good sign – Diaval carefully tried to defuse the situation. He had a feeling that the odds were rapidly turning against him. "You could always go and toy with the girl's watchdogs."

Giving an annoyed huff that was answer enough, she turned around and once again started walking. Always quick to follow, this time Diaval took his time, following her with measured steps at a safe distance.

"No, we've already been there twice today."

Taking care to keep his face void of any emotion, Diaval answered in a quiet voice, "Then I am afraid I cannot help you."

The moment he saw Maleficent straighten up he realised his mistake. Holding his breath he watched her back as the faerie slowed to a halt. They both stood motionless, that was until she threw him a calculating look over her shoulder.

"On the contrary. I believe you can help." When he saw the mischievous spark in her eyes, Diaval took a step back. Releasing the breath he had been holding, he raised his hands and tried to fend off the inevitable.

"Mistress, I don't think-" He abruptly stopped talking once a familiar tingle ran down his spine. A quiet huff of resignation escaped him when he felt his body transform. As soon as it had begun it was over and Diaval found himself on considerably shorter legs than he was now used to.

"What's with that sullen look? I find you quite adorable."

Looking up at Maleficent from his current position on the ground, he scowled at the faerie who now all but towered over him. She must have turned him into something really really small this time.

The dazzling smile she gave him sent him wondering. He really should have tried harder. But what wouldn't he do to see her like this more often – radiant smile, eyes alight with humour. Despite all his efforts to hold onto his annoyance, his anger melted away when faced with her cheerfulness.

Diaval could feel his scowl disappear and, somewhere at the far end of his spine, a tail started wagging on its own accord. He stopped as soon as he realised what that meant.

No.

No way. She hadn't...

"I've always loved puppies." When he growled in protest, Maleficent merely laughed. It only served to agitate him further, even if he had to admit her amusement was understandable. He didn't sound particularly menacing.

Picking up a little twig, Maleficent threw it over his head. Diaval didn't so much as blink.

"Oh, come on, Diaval. Don't be a poor sport."

When he once again failed to react, she bowed down and patted his head gently. Still feeling slightly miffed, he moved away from her slender fingers.

Shortly afterwards he found himself sprawled all over the faerie's lap, bearing his throat and belly. Gods, did he hate himself.

He was pathetic.

But her fingers against his fur felt oh so marvellous...

Succumbing to his fate, Diaval relaxed and let his mistress have her ways while secretly relishing in the gentle caresses she lavished upon him.

When Maleficent started to hum softly, Diaval began to genuinely worry for her sanity. Carefully he opened his eyes and stole a quick glance at her face.

Never had he seen her so content, so relaxed. He must be cute beyond belief.

Deciding to safe his mistress from this self-imposed state of puppy-awed mushy-headedness he rolled over and – with a great deal of regret – escaped her still caressing fingers.

Desperate to distract her from his obvious cuteness, he looked around in search for something to help his cause and in the end settled for the next best course of action.

"Oh, now you want to play fetch?" Maleficent asked in a stern voice, but her smile betrayed her true feelings. Wondering if faeries could go mad from too much cuteness Diaval obediently opened his little jaw when his mistress reached for the twig he held.

The picture of little Aurora's aunties flashed in front of his inner eye, three faeries, one of them even more airheaded than the other. And they seemed to adore cute things.

Making the obvious connection between the words cute and faerie, Diaval scrambled for the twig Maleficent had just thrown, desperate to keep his mistress sane.

He didn't do a very good job.

Damn those paws, he thought furiously as he stumbled, fell and rolled over the ground for the ump-teenth time. Seriously, how could baby dogs survive with such big feet? They were nothing but one big handicap. And to make matters worse, he looked even more adorable if Maleficent's delighted expression was anything to go by.

Just as he was about to get up, he felt his body transform and grow. Finally.

Jumping to his feet, he brushed leaves and moss of his clothes and threw Maleficent a sharp glare.

"That wasn't the nice thing to do," he sniffed indignantly.

Shrugging at his obvious displeasure, Maleficent turned and walked away. "Why, I thought you were quite adorable," she answered dryly, but Diaval was sure he detected a faint note of warmth in her words.

Smiling to himself, he decided to let the topic go and headed after his mistress, once again following her like a shadow.

Later that day, a raven appeared beneath the trees, stirring up the fallen leaves that covered the ground as it landed. Hopping around for quite some time in seemingly random patterns, turning its head this way and that way, in the end it took off again, its sharp claws closed tightly around a seemingly plain item.

A small twig, bearing the impression of puppy teeth.

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