A/N: "Love was real, she knew - a joy to be savoured by many creatures, and Maleficent couldn't see herself as one of them. She never did."

Act 3: Nightmares of Dreams

The sun was strong and steady in the sky when Maleficent reached the lake.

She didn't notice time passing by, and when it came to her, it had been almost two hours since she and Diaval had parted ways. She was not worried about his delay, because Diaval used to take time on whatever things he did. In fact, she was relieved because she needed to be alone. She left her nest in a hurry after her servant's departure, and did not care much about the thunder roaring above her head.

The creatures of the Moors worried, and the beginning of another day that sounded quiet ended when the clouds darkened rapidly, pouring water everywhere. In what seemed to be seconds, the land of the Moors was already covered by rain.

Animals and magical beings then returned to their homes. Small fireplaces provided warmth and light, revealing flowers adorning the walls of wood and moss, exuding happiness, wealth, and lack of concern. The creatures thanked the gods and their young queen for all this. There was no war against humans, and therefore their offspring would be born into a kingdom of justice and goodness.

They only wanted their guardian to keep their mind in the same state of peace, so perhaps the hurricane of the emotions within their heart did not reflect in the weather.

However, they were surprised to see her flying away from her nest directly into the rain.

The fae ignored the water soaking her wings, and when she couldn't go any further, she flew down the forest, hovering over the trees. She landed on an old tree, hidden between two oaks on the shores of the lake. Once she found herself under thousands of leaves, she stretched her wings to dry them and sat down on, waiting. Drops of water hit her powerful cheeks once in a while, replacing the tears in her heart.

The fae did nothing to stop them. She barely moved. She only allowed the water wash her skin while her wings served as a blanket of feathers, ready to protect her from the unknown.

She had no intention of leaving the shadows. The silence was surprising and the feelings in her were scary.

Thoughts terrified her.Her servant...only her servant could make the pain disappear, and again, he could make everything worse at once.

Fortunately or not, it had not been a nightmare this time, but the most beautiful of dreams. Her servant was the cause. Sleeping in his arms felt so right, but left room for uncomfortable desires. But how to let yourself forget when it came to something almost within your reach, and yet so far away?

For the vision of little fairies was remarkable, beautiful, warm, and many other good things, but to think of their ebony wings and emerald eyes, shining at her, and to know that all this would never be more than a dream, the most foolish of all, brought disturbing and confusing feelings to her heart, causing terrible sensations.

She thought of them as real, as a part of herself that didn't even exist. They entered the ruins flying. She knew what they had eaten by the blue marks on their faces and fingers. Somehow, they found enough blueberries to feed them. She scolded them for eating too much, but when they showed the basket they had brought, full of blue and red berries, she could not help but smile at them – her little ones. Her mate arrived then, smiling at their young. Something told her it might have been his idea. She kissed him and lay down in the nest, her swollen womb just allowing her to move little.

Her mate lay down next to her and his arms wrapped around her. Soon the moon was in the sky and their children were sleeping in their own nest, next to their parents, the basket already empty due to their hungry mouths. She shivered as a breeze hit the curtains. Her little ones had a red blanket over them, shielding them from the cold, and she had her mate. She hugged him, sighing against his neck.

His face was the first thing she saw before realizing that all had been but an illusion—another impossible dream.

She wanted to tell herself that it didn't bother her. That her heart didn't sink down at the small glimpse of a pair of elves entering their tree home filled with the joy brought by a numerous offspring while that special corner of her nest was empty—regarding the epithet loneliness.

She could deny it, but with her mind struggling with the inevitable, her dreams only confirmed the most secret desires of her heart.

It was a long lost dream of a fae who had always been alone. She never expected to find herself a mate, but with mating season demanding some action, finding someone that would offer her the family she never had was rather unlikely. When she could not find another like her, Stefan ignited the flame of hope in her heart.

And how foolish of her was to assume that a human would love a fae.

She could even say that he had never taken pleasure in the few kisses they had shared, but she was so absorbed in the future, in the family that she might have with him, that she did not bother to notice that his eyes betrayed the lies spoken by his mouth.

Times like these made her regret not having loved the little beastie when she was a child. She was so lost in hatred and revenge that she didn't allow herself to think about what a stolen motherhood could provide her. A chance like no other, and likely to return when Aurora became a mother, and perhaps Maleficent could love and care for her...god-grandchildren.

Still, while the thought was comforting, it was not enough to make her happy. It did not soothe her heart anymore.

Maleficent wanted her a family of her own—a mate to love her and an offspring whom both would love and protect. They would feed them, bathe them and help them control their magic. They would play with them and teach them the art of flying. She could even see them asking their father to preen their wings or tell a story before bed and it was beautiful, the acceptance she had sought her entire life and...who knew that in a foolish raven she would finally find it?

A life without him was...well, she didn't want to think about it. The mere thought of seeing him building a nest for another—of seeing him loving another—made her blood boil with jealousy. That foolish raven was her wings, the reason behind the best feelings within her soul and the kindness her magic could provide, and she did not care how selfish she sounded—she did not want to lose him; she could not lose him. She trusted him with her life and there was nothing she would not do to be brave and just tell him what she was feeling.

But what would he say?

Diaval had never made his desires known to her nor to anyone, although he was very talkative if given the chance. Not that she expected him to trust her with his secrets, but she wondered what he might had felt all those years of servitude. For Maleficent was no fool, she was quite aware of the effects her actions had on her servant – Diaval had a life before her, he had dreams – and she destroyed everything while pursing her stupid revenge.

It had been two years since the end of her curse, so what now?

Now mating season plagued her mind and heart and soul and if even someone like, so used of being alone, felt that need of having a family, how does Diaval feel?

What does he want?

It would be undeniable cruel, she knew, to keep him with herself to make her night easier to bear. He was a bird, but she had gifted him with a human mind – he had feelings and thoughts, just like any other talking living creature.

And if anyone deserved a family, it was him.

But would he choose her?

Why would he?

Despite several signs, Maleficent did not want to believe that her servant saw her as worthy of his love. She was not completely blind to his devotion, but he also cared deeply for Aurora, whom he referred kindly as his hatchling, so his feelings for his mistress could be anything, not necessarily the romantic love she once professed for Stefan.

Maleficent was never to deny the obvious—or at least that's what she keeps telling herself—and her mind also said she should settle for what she had, for though Diaval was her wings, she didn't have own his heart.

Mistress, perhaps friend, would be the highest title she could, no, that she should wait and that should satisfy her in many ways.

And it did, in a way. Diaval was to be with her all the time. He was to please her as the servant he was, and to make her smile. He was supposed to hold her at night, and Maleficent had to admit that she took advantage of it. Obviously, she'd never touched him improperly – to disrespect him was the last thought in her mind, but to enjoy of his warmth was not a misdeed, was it?

She simply loved him as much as she did Aurora. They were her true love, and Maleficent wanted them close. However, the thought of having both as her family, officially speaking, seemed to be a very distant and frightening thought. Aurora was her little daughter, and the bond they shared would last forever.

But Diaval…

He was so much more than anything she ever thought of having, so much more than a friend. His mind was intelligent, his spirit was pure, his bravery was never to be questioned, and his eyes reminded her of the night sky, but darker than the darkness itself. His eyes were so expressive that they could reveal his soul and her dreams were to dive into this dark sea, for she never dared to do so. Fairies are known to be terrible liars when it comes to feelings. Maleficent knew she had never really convinced anyone of her wickedness, and Diaval had always reminded her of it. If she looked into his eyes, he would know the desires of her soul and...and...to wait for a positive reaction to her feelings would be stupid!

The unknown, the fear of rejection, was like a huge weight on her shoulders, overwhelming her heart more than ever, and she preferred not to know such thoughts than to face a truth that would crush her soul. She did not want to guess nor risk it. Having him around, even if it was not to have him as her mate, was more than she deserved. With him close, she could protect him, a promise made by her heart. No evil would come upon the raven whose wings were the definition of faithfulness. Not while she lived, at least. A silly thought, of course, since she knew the powers inside the raven, a gift from her, but she could not help but worry. He was so very important to her. Aurora stole what was left of a broken heart, but Diaval healed a broken soul and then stole it to himself.

Maleficent closed her eyes in a sigh, but the air inside her lungs burned her chest. Only her pride prevented the tears, so continuous and usually painful, from falling. Then she let the rain wash her face, and her sadness joined the earth.

Love was real, she knew—a joy to be savoured by many creatures, and Maleficent couldn't see herself as one of them.

She never did.

"Mistress!"

The fae's eyes widened at the call of her beloved, then bursting into tears with the insistent reminder that she had no right to call him that way.

Sighing, she climbed down the tree and walked slowly to the edges of the lake, and her own image was projected into the waters while a man's silhouette sat beside her, young and handsome, and a beautiful basket was in his hands.

How he got the basket she did not know, but the smell of berries was strong and sweet.

"There you are, mistress." He was clearly proud of his work, but she still didn't look at him, as the sight of herself and the raven man in the water caught her eye. The wind reached the lake, and its reflections mingled, and they became a single image, and in the face of such a vision his heart broke even more.

Diaval was not unaware of her silence, and his smile disappeared as his eyes fell back into the reflections on the waters. He frowned, unable to decipher the expression on his mistress's face, but he felt that her behaviour was not the kindest.

"Mistress..." He whispered in a soothing voice, and his eyes met hers in the waters. "Did something happen while I was away? Has someone bothered you?"

And even in the midst of all her sadness and frustration, Maleficent didn't expect to hear this kind of question.

"You speak as I have never know how to handle those kind of situations." She commented, still not looking at him.

"I meant no offence, mistress. But when it comes to...some creatures, they do know how to be very ungrateful."

And although Maleficent couldn't deny he was right on that matter, she insisted, "This is not about them, Diaval." She wanted with all her heart to be able to tell him what was devouring her soul from within, to tell him what all this was about.

She couldn't.

He deserved better.

"You promise?"

Maleficent glanced to the raven man, to caught him watching her carefully with narrowed eyes, his head tiled his to the side.

The fae felt like smiling. That bird was totally adorable.

"Yes, Diaval. I would not lie—" She stopped in middle sentence for two reasons: because she knew she would be lying, quite ironically; and by the glance her servant offered her, reminding her of the times when she would lie shamelessly—especially when it came to be about her love for the little beastie. "Often." She admitted, and pursed her lips, irritated with herself. "But not this time."

A smile returned to the raven man's face, "I found this." He showed her a straw basket in his hands. Coming from some farm, she was sure, since he loved to ignore her orders just as she avoided ordering him anything. Apples and berries and fresh bread, all very lovely, if she felt like eating anything, disregarding the complaints of the stomach.

"This is not your duty." She heard herself thinking too out loud, and the sadness in her voice didn't surprise her.

Diaval glared at her, bothered by her new ways of thinking, "I am your servant."

Is that all? An angry voice screamed in her head. Could they not be more? Why could they not be more? Why the gods tortured her with another love she cannot have?

"Now, eat." Diaval took an apple and cleaned it in the waters of the lake, and then offered it to his mistress.

The fae grimaced and turned her face toward the lake, suddenly hating herself. She didn't feel like eating.

Diaval recognized her distress in seconds, and insisted, placing the straw basket on her lap, "Mistress, please."

Maleficent absolutely hated that her servant had such effect on her. "Very well." She surrendered and took the apple that her servant had offered her and took a bite. It took another bite for hunger to take over, and within minutes she'd devoured two apples, a handful of berries and a few slices of bread.

In the end, Diaval was smiling proudly at her.

Maleficent, in turn, felt like a foolish child.

"What shall we do today, mistress?" She heard Diaval ask then, and silently wait for instructions, looking intently at her.

The fae usually had a busy day. She has always been obsolete in her planning. She was a very organized person, and always had her chores prepared beforehand. She also hated being taken by surprise, for very understandable reasons. However, that would result in more dreams that she wasn't yet ready to face. She would probably never be, because they were too painful for being so impossible, and she saw no hope of seeing them disappear, for if she was near her servant, she would be cursed by dreams of a beautiful but unreal life. But if she was away from him, she knew she would be in despair, like a bird locked in a cage hanging in the edges of a window.

Truth be told, she was already in despair. For if she were honest with herself, if she were more selfish than usual, if she paid attention to her deepest desires, she would simply go back to her nest and sleep until she no longer knew who she was. Of course, if she really listened to even deeper desires, she and her servant would go back to their nest together in the ruins and from there, they wouldn't leave so soon. There, he would take her as his mate; there, she would give herself to him; there, they would know each other as only lovers do, and nothing else would matter, for there, they would be together and there was nothing else she wanted in life than to be with him forever.

Maleficent looked up to the skies. She was never the one to neglect her duties, and it wouldn't be fair to the inhabitants of the land of the Moors if she did, but her mind couldn't do anything. She was psychologically drained, she was sure of that. She wasn't in the mood to solve any problems, if there was one. She could go on with her patrols, but soon she would be distracted, annoyed or angered, and that would result in someone getting hurt, and she wouldn't allow that happen.

But could the Guardian of the Moors take a day off?

"I...have no plans."

It took Diaval about ten seconds to realize that his question had been answered. When he did, he looked at his mistress in amazement.

"You...you what?"

Maleficent still had her gaze turned toward the lake, but this time, no longer on the reflection in the waters, but on the creatures that bathed in there.

"The Moors do not seem to require my help any longer." She said.

Diaval, still trying to decipher the thoughts lost in his mistress' mind, said, "After rain? They can either be in their homes or complaining around."

"They always did that."

"And you get angry," Diaval concluded, and Maleficent frowned, not understanding where her servant's reasoning was heading, "But how to find fault in that?"

Maleficent smirked softly, but did not add any thoughts to her servants's words.

"Could you not simply ignore them, mistress?"

Maleficent felt time stop around her. Then, she turned to her servant, staring in bewilderment. Diaval could be anything—foolish, stubborn, a bit arrogant, but he was not sloppy.

"As Guardian of the Moors, any conflicts are my responsibility." Maleficent spoke. "You know that as much as I do."

The raven man folded his arms, "But what if they are the ones causing conflicts to your life?"

"They are not—" Her breath became uneven, and she turned her gaze again to the creatures of the lake. "I am not in conflict." She insisted stubbornly, more to her troubled mind than to her servant. It was as if the fear of surrendering to her desires was to be aware of reason, and she had to remember that, as wonderful as her dreams might be, they would be no more than impassable nonsense to become unbelievable.

"Mistress." Her servant, however, was not blind to her afflictions, even if he didn't understand that he was the reason for her most disturbing and, at the same time, most beautiful dreams. But Diaval would always be there to help her when needed, even though she didn't know what to do. "The rain came suddenly. And your wings are full of leaves and branches," He commented casually, and Maleficent felt her heart explode inside her chest. "You...caused the rain and flew into it. Then, you hid in the trees."

And clearly, he knew how to decipher her actions like an expert, as a forest god who had participated in her birth, creating flaws and virtues that only he could identify.

And she, hostage to his prying eyes, could do nothing to keep him, her beloved, from being there with her to torment her fears.

And well, it wasn't like she wanted him to leave, anyway.

She was, as we all know, a rather selfish fae.

"Do you wish me to preen your wings?"

For a moment, Maleficent felt her muscles tighten and her chest gasp, such was her agony. Her wings moved involuntarily, and she feared that Diaval could understand what made her so nervous.

After all, why would she be so surprised? It wouldn't be the first time he had preened her wings. In fact, there was nothing else he could do to her that was kinder. His hands were far better than any spell, probably because they took time in perfection and dedication. He was so gentle with her wings, so loving, so unlike Stefan, always asking if she felt safe while he touched her.

Would he ever see that all her fears and insecurities would disappear just because he was there with her?

As much she couldn't see how Diaval loved her wings. That her wings always made him feel strange inside, and his breathing sometimes was caught in his throat, for her feathers were even more dazzling in the sunlight, and he couldn't be happier because he was the one to touch them without reservation.

How then could they deny themselves so much?

"My wings?" She finally found her voice, and there were more doubts hidden.

In return, Diaval just smiled, knowing how to read her eyes than herself, "If you allow me, mistress." And his hand moved slowly and dangerously close to her wings, his eyes always watching hers, looking for some sign of fear. In fact, fear was what he saw in her eyes, but not from him, never him, but things he couldn't understand. And when he finally slid his fingers through the feathers of her wings, the fae closed her eyes and sighed, surrendering to him.

Indeed, Maleficent would always end up sleepy, sighing with satisfaction and need and desire, and she would have to close her eyes because of the same need and desire.

At every touch, with every involuntary reaction of her wings to his soft touch, she loved him even more and her heart burned.

A sad smile spread over her lips, for though she couldn't stop the happiness from having her wings preened by the one she loved, she also hated herself for allowing him to be so close when what she really needed was the opposite.

However, she couldn't miss a last chance to have him so close, and while her heart was bleeding from rejection, she openly allowed herself to enjoy so intimately the touch of the man she loved.

Even if for one last time before releasing him from his servitude.

"Mistress...wake up."

And when she found herself again in his arms, lying by the edges of the lake, images of little faes playing like flashes before her more recent memories, and she was already crying so desperately, she felt so vulnerable, that Diaval almost jumped, "Mistress? What happened? Can I do anything? Mistress?" He kept asking, unsure whether he had done anything wrong.

The singing of two birds caught their attention and both flying creatures had their eyes on the heavens, astonished by the beautiful day before them.

"No, you cannot." It was her reply, and Diaval blinked, surprised when he finally noticed the tears falling from his mistress' eyes, and he suddenly wished he was not so used to seeing her cry.

"Mistress..." was what left his lips, and Maleficent forgot her fears and snuggled her face into his neck, not seeking comfort as so often, but hiding from visions she did not want to face—a world of sins and the wickedness and loneliness she had already grown tired of. Diaval merely held her, his fingers playing with feathers at the base of her wings.

With her eyes closed, Maleficent allowed herself to surrender and tears washed her soul. Diaval brought her against his body, his arms firmly around her, and his own heart crushed painfully, for he felt useless for not knowing what to do.

"Tell me, mistress." He whispered against her hair. It smelled as sweet as the berries he had just harvest for her. "Tell me what makes you so scared. Tell me what's bothering you and I will do anything to make it go away."

And although Maleficent wanted to, she was no braver than him, and more tears fell, and her deliberation was simple—he saved her once. He and Aurora saved her from herself.

Now it was time to free him from herself.

For I love you, my dearest raven, I love you so much. I could never bear to imprison you.

"Mistress..." Diaval's breathing became ragged and swift. He was beginning to feel desperate.

"Hold me." She said, as many, many times before, on nights darker than the darkness of her heart, night plagued by dreams of horrors and beauty.

And so Diaval held her tight, and she was breathing in his essence, and they stayed like this until the end of the day and beyond. When, however, lying in the nest, Maleficent watched her servant sleep soundly beside her, she allowed herself to take advantage of this last moment of warmth, before she left the ruins forever.

And when Diaval woke up the next morning, alone and distressed, disoriented by his mistress' absence, he felt the same emptiness as before when he met her, when he was only a bird without a family, flying alone in search of a mate.

And without understanding, he flew away, looking for the one whose his heart had chosen.

But he didn't find her.

A/N: Hey! Thanks for reading! More angst to come and I'm not even ashamed of it.