A/N: "Maleficent is emotionally unstable, Diaval is missing and Aurora tries to help as she can."

So...I really wasn't expecting so many people to enjoy this story. THANK YOU GUYS! Hope you enjoy the new chapter as well!

WARNING: THERE IS ANGST. LIKE, A LOT.

Act 04: The Queen of the Moors

To say Maleficent didn't try to sleep was an understatement—a foolish one.

She didn't even consider it. Her world turned blue, so cold and frightening and foreign. Broken—as on the years after the betrayal.

One may think the worst memory of her heart was the one following the betrayal—the lack of a blanket of feathers to envelop her body, shielding her skin against the crispy wind of winter, the pain burning her bones unmercifully while judgement flashed before her thoughts endlessly.

One also is very wrong.

For a lifetime, Maleficent questioned the nature of her existence. She was unique, the perfect resemblance of darkness and light, so powerful and willing, yet so alone—one of a kind. No magical creature dared to know her, to give her a chance of proving her worth.

And so, love became out of question. She stopped hoping. Prevented herself from heartbreak. She guarded her soul with coldness, and her few moments of kindness were those when caring for her people. When even them turned away, she didn't blame them. She would reject herself, if she could.

Looking at the skies became painful because the wind was the only consolation Maleficent, the hybrid, would ever had.

To lose her wings was not about the loss of her freedom, but to be slapped on both cheeks, to be screamed at—you'll never have a family—and only then, she felt betrayed...by herself.

Because she dared opening her heart, hoping for a life of love and peace and passion...and she was so foolish. She hated herself more than she did to Stefan. Because, "How could you be so stupid? Wasn't obvious no magical creature or human would consider a hybrid as an option?"

Now, it felt like it didn't matter. Nightmares wouldn't plague her mind—and she doubt they ever would—because she just knew she was never sleeping again.

Her wings hugged her, yet it brought little comfort—for what was the use of having wings if you can only fly alone?

Back to her old tree, she watched the stars travel the skies and between tears and sighs, the sun was back into the skies again. Spring would progress, as time and nature would ask for it, and nothing would change; nothing would improve—and no, she wasn't in the place to deny that, neither was stupid enough to it. Still, no one said it was fair—finding out how amazing true love can be like, and knowing you'll never have it.

Sometimes, she wished to find the courage to face such true, much for her dismay and...anger, dare I say? She did try at all costs to divert her thoughts from this need—the painful longing, the hope of expecting for...more. She did what she must not to think about it. Because it would be easier to acknowledge the truth rather than living a lie which hoping actually was—in her case, anyway.

She also wasn't surprised when she felt Diaval flying to her. She literally felt his—her—magic, and she left before she could his desperate calls.

It was unfair too, because she knew the poor bird would arrive at her old tree and glance at her empty spot with sad eyes, confused not be spoken to, not to be allowed to spend his nights with her, but what else she could do if not to avoid him? His debt was paid—it had been for over two years now and although Maleficent had never touched on the subject, she knew it was implied that he no longer needed to be there for her. He wasn't bond to her and she had to use herself to a life without his constant presence.

Because he wasn't hers to claim, and however the need to love and hope and dream was there—that's it, just impossible things, unfulfilled wishes.

She landed by a forgotten canon, away from everything that might remind her of anything she ever wanted. The place reminded her of herself—bleak, silent, cold.

Empty of life.

She was used to be lonely. She wasn't saying it wasn't evidently horrible, for it was, very much so, but what to expect from the only remaining fae?

She sighed again, and closed her eyes, internally wishing to hear the calling of her beloved.

She didn't.

He hadn't found her this time. She suspected he hadn't even try to follow her. He got the message. She wasn't happy by it, but she was glad that silly raven was free from the burden, that he was to love whomever he wished to. And she was glad she wouldn't be there to see it.

Selfish, I suppose, but that's who she is—an evil creature.

And she only wished be loved—which was very selfish, she thought to herself, and allowed the tears to wash her face at the song of the birds in favour to mating season.

She laid down, staring at the moist walls of a cave hidden behind a waterfall. Like flying,sleeping was supposed to allow her to forget, to pretend that her dreams were just thoughts insisting on playing with her feelings, not torturing her with the love she couldn't have.

One may ask why.

The answer was hard on her.

She had just walked away from the man she loved.

Her mind screamed—you love him—and she sobbed openly, creating echoes of what had happened, her heart bleeding, and there was that specific rebellion, as if she could kill someone in the most creative and cruel way, if only to appease her soul's cries.

She couldn't, as no one would pay for her hatred anymore. But she would be lying if she said everything wouldn't inevitably end up in anger—and fear and sadness and envy. For the more she couldn't prevent the darkness of her heart, the more it had new ways of provocation, despise not being in control anymore, as she still had the princess' love, and that should suffice for now, as she always forced herself to think.

Useless, her mind told her, and she could do nothing but agree.

And here between us—only time would tell how badly such denial state would prevail.

But not for how longer.

A few days later...

On the day before Aurora was about to turn eighteen, Maleficent fled from the Moors to meet up with the young queen. Diaval wasn't with her, but she could feel his presence nearby.

He hadn't try to follow her, and she made of that hidden cave her new home, the cold and humid ground being replaced by several flowers and leaves. By far, it wasn't even close to the luxurious nest Diaval had once built to her—them—but the sound of the waterfall was rewarding.

Which means her nightmares were still there, but being able to wash her face in the cool, refreshing water, she would tremble, and for a few moments she would forget the dreams about three little souls that would never exist—Anton, Izaak and Lor.

From their...father, Diaval, she listened to many things. Moorish creatures talked a lot about anything, especially water fairies, and any rumour would spread quickly.

Maleficent knew Diaval was now at Aurora's castle. Her heart broke as she imagined him choosing a human woman, and as she landed at the gates of the castle, she inevitably remembered the fateful night of Aurora's almost death, and Diaval's words:

"I need you, Diaval. I cannot do this without you, Diaval."

He cared for her, she never thought otherwise. But to have her as his mate was something far beyond than caring, and deeper. In eighteen years sharing a nest, he never did anything that would tell her that he wanted something else. Of course, it was not as if she had a head for it, and if so, if he had done something, if he had tried to court her, she would have noticed it quickly, and then she would have rejected him because her heart was not ready to love.

Aurora changed that. And Maleficent would not let a broken heart cut off any ties she'd build with the girl.

Even if jealously was to win her heart when she saw Diaval with another woman, Maleficent would never abandon Aurora.

And it was this thought that made the fae take a deep breath and enter the castle.

All servants ran from side to side, preparing the princess's birthday party. In the distance, Maleficent caught sight of three pixies—Knotgrass, Flittle and Thistlewit—but they were too busy fighting amount themselves to notice her arrival.

Aurora also wasn't expecting her to pay a visit, nor was anyone else in court. Through her life, Maleficent grew accustomed to many looks of fear and hatred, since the Moors could be magical, but they were not exempt of sins. Humankind was no different—and they didn't even care enough to hide what they really thought of her. They barely spoke to her, but were quite creative on spreading lies of gossip.

Maleficent knew she wasn't a good influence to the young queen—she wouldn't deny the obvious, having cursed a child in her crib. But Aurora claimed to love her, and all Maleficent wanted at the moment was to be closer to her, to hear her voice and laugh, to feel loved—if not for her people, if not for the man she wanted, she could at least have the love of the girl she had as her daughter—the heir she would not have.

"Godmother!"

As sweet as the honey of the bees, it was clear by the expression the young queen carried one could tell she hardly contained her happiness upon meeting with the ones she secretly saw as a mother and father. The girl was the definition of purity. With the blue robes of a fae, she was so beautiful. She was kind and fair—her pride, proof that her life had not been wasted on nothing but revenge and hatred. Aurora was light, the brightest star, and Maleficent loved her so much it came to be painful.

"Aurora."

Upon seeing the fae at the doors of her throne room, the young queen grinned, caring little if her court cast her reproving looks, nor if her servants were too soon to spread cunning gossips around the lower parts of the castle and down the near villages.

"...the Horned Queen just arrived..."

Maleficent would then smile, proud at her little beastie's wild nature.

It reminded her of herself when so pure and young, and it hurt that she had wasted so much time in her life in revenge. Hadn't she been so proud, perhaps she would had had the chance to know ow it was like to raise a child...even if wasn't her own.

A sigh left her mouth.

If she could turn time back, would she really curse Aurora, only to have her as her child?

Maleficent was awoken from her thoughts as her heard Aurora's laughing when she wrapped her arms around her. The fae was much taller than the girl, and rested her chin over her head and sighed, overjoyed.

Later, it came the silence, as Maleficent would sight young princess Aurora looking at her expectantly.

The girl, as her godmother never looked so sad, was suddenly worried to know why the sudden sad look, and her heart pained to notice the tiredness on the fae's eyes, but perhaps a touch was the consolation she needed now.

Perhaps that's why she was there—to feel loved.

Aurora felt a wave of sympathy hit her heart and wrapped her arms around her godmother tightly. Maleficent closed her eyes as her heart was filled with family love. Her hands instinctively felt upon Aurora's golden hair and she let her fingers caress the long locks. The little beastie's presence made her forget, if only for a moment, of her worries.

"I have missed you, godmother." A whisper was muffed against the fae's robes. "I have missed you so much."

Maleficent ins tears, she knew.

But this time, she was so very happy.

The fae and the queen had a small reception waiting for them on the palace gardens, as always happened to honoured guests. While Aurora's servants were eager to have their queen's wishes satisfied, they were wary of Maleficent, at whatever a fae might think as acceptable for dinner.

Maleficent noticed they avoided at all costs any birds on the main meal—which was wise, though she wouldn't feel offended had they cooked quails and pheasants. Diaval, if he was here, would be devastated to see his little friends served on the shiny plates he loved so much.

The fae felt her heart tighten painfully at the memory of her beloved. She watched quietly as Aurora spoke of her kingdom. It healed her soul to hear her beastie talking. The subject of her words really didn't matter much. The most important to Maleficent was to hear the voice of her beloved god-daughter.

"Philip's letter arrived yesterday." Aurora wouldn't stop smiling when taking about her prince.

"And you are happy." Maleficent noted.

Aurora grinned, "I won't lie. I miss him."

Maleficent knew exactly what the young queen was feeling. She also missed Diaval with everything she had. She hadn't even been able to have a moment of rest without his presence.

Which she must get used to, she insisted. Diaval deserved better than her. He should find himself someone to care for, a she-raven which wings were beautiful and—

"Godmother!"

Any jealous thoughts warred off her head as she felt a warm hand touch hers, and she noticed that her magic as well had made her feelings known, and green flames almost burned a quite expensive tablecloth.

Now aware of her mistake, Maleficent retracted her fingers, and her magic was gone, preventing any incidents to happen any further. She said nothing, though—would do nothing to justify her actions, her thoughts filled with self hate, her stupid feelings for a raven she was probably never going to see again, feelings she couldn't ever control of probably so sinful they were. She could've hurt the little beastie, and that was unforgivable.

Just another proof that she didn't deserve any kind of kindness.

"How have you been, godmother?"

Aurora, the sweet girl she was, of so understanding and loving, would look at her with pleading eyes, holding the love Maleficent was never so aware of, and making the fae feeling grateful and ungrateful at the very same time.

Grateful for having such sweetness in her life, in the form on a young woman called after dawn.

Ungrateful for being so selfish and wanting for much more, the type of perfection few could accomplish, and less deserved.

"I have been well." Her words left her mouth in a lie, a whisper that denoted her many sleepless nights.

Aurora, thank the gods, learned to be as watchful as her godfather, and presented her godmother with a dubious look, "Diaval is not with you."

Maleficent's ears did not fail to observe the slight concern on Aurora's voice. She looked away and answered with a low tone, "He is not."

But Aurora was no fool to let this opportunity to pass and frowned, also puzzled by the hardness of the words.

"Has something happened?" She asked, noticing how suddenly Maleficent tensed, but glanced back at her, keeping her eyes cold.

"Why do you presume this?" The fae asked.

The queen frowned, not so innocently commenting, "He never lets you out of his sight, so I find rather uncommon to find you by yourself."

Words thrown to the wind, an uncomfortable silence followed its path. Maleficent did have time to realise the hidden meaning behind the queen's words, and parted her lips to protest, to show her infinite disbelief—which only resulted in silence, for she had no words to say.

The young queen sighed softly, "Have you argued over something?" Maleficent raised an eyebrow. Aurora did the same. "What? It wouldn't be the first time."

"We have not." Maleficent said defensively, but Aurora wouldn't believe her. Lies were no good when it comes to the Guardian of the Moors.

"Are you angry at him because he likes to prepare your morning meal?" She kept guessing. Another uncomfortable silence was not what she wanted. She was not pleased by it.

Maleficent blinked. Then... "He told you." She soon concluded, eyes narrowing. Her voice contained a large amount of something Aurora could recognise as annoyance. "When?" She demanded.

"He has visited me as well." And he was so desperate. Broken too, and very confused. But Aurora wasn't saying this...yet. "He was not pleased to know his services were no longer appreciated."

Something it the air changed then. Aurora could not quite guess what it was, but regardless of it, it was not something pleasant.

"He...said those words?"

"You expected him not to?" Aurora knew she had never seen her godfather look so defeated. "You left him, godmother. What did you wish to make him feel if not unwanted?"

"I never..." She paused. She couldn't be just presuming things that weren't truth, no? "I assumed he would prefer to be left alone." Maleficent never sounded so sincere.

Aurora frowned, again. "And why would you think that?"

Maleficent was clearly uncertain in her answer, "He is no longer my servant."

The wind hit strong on them both. Aurora let her eyes travel through her godmother's face, wondering the reasons for the distress and sadness clearly exposed on her eyes. It did not take a minute to her mind to solve the puzzle, making the young queen wonder why she was not surprised at all.

Her godmother could be so oblivious sometimes...

"Is that why you are sad?" Aurora asked, making sure to place an assuring hand over her godmother's arm, "Because you had no wish to leave him?"

Maleficent turned her head to the horizon, away from the worried eyes of her beastie—just like in the days of the curse. To Aurora, it meant more than a simple nightmare to fear.

"What I may or may not want has no meaning."

"And why not?"

"Diaval paid his debt, beastie." The fae replied, and then her eyes were back on the princess, "Freedom is what I owned him the most. Certainly this was his wish—"

"His wish is his family, godmother. And by family I mean you and me. And Philip too, although godfather won't be willing to admit it just yet."

Maleficent wasn't as convinced, "No wise creature considers his mistress as family."

"Godfather certainly does. He's so kind to us, to you. He built the nest you live in, he helped you to protect me. He enjoys taking care of you."

"There is no need for it."

"Which didn't stop him."

"It didn't." Maleficent sighed in resignation. "Stubborn bird."

"It doesn't surprise me."

Maleficent's eyes widened slightly, "...it doesn't."

"No." Aurora did not hold back a grin this time. "Ravens care for their families."

Emerald eyes drifted to the clouds above. An imposing nature covered emotions partially, making it impossible for to guess any thoughts.

"He is...was a good servant ." Maleficent said with conviction. But it was more to remind herself of such than to answer Aurora, "Annoying...Prideful. Loud but a good servant, nevertheless."

"Then you appreciate what he did for you?"

"I do. Diaval..." Her mind recalled the conversation they had just a few days ago, about friends and duty and servants and mistress. A sad smile settled on her full red lips as she repeated words once said, "I consider him a friend. Which is why I freed him."

Oh.

"Even though you are in love with him."

Maleficent's face became as pale as the moon. She swallowed hard, trying to slow down the beat of her heart. She did not have success. The beastie was smiling at her in a strange way and she did not like it.

"Aurora—"

"Godmother." The queen had no patience to babbling. "Why have you not told him?"

Words were expected from all, but sometimes a few ones could catch one off guard. Some for being stupid, but most for being too wise and witty. Maleficent would be alarmed if one was to tell her to pretend the little beastie was blind—maybe even stupid. The girl obviously wasn't and the fae was not sure if there was some goodness on such fact. The young queen was too good for her own luck, and she definitely had more to tell than what her people expected of her.

Still, it was not something easy to deal with.

And Maleficent turned so desperate so quickly that the abruptness scared Aurora a little. But to the fae it little matter how obvious she was being now, for what she cared for was being so obvious before.

If the girl knew of her feelings for the raven the fae couldn't, but if she did, then maybe Diaval also did.

The possibilities of the truth scared her to no ends. Maleficent tried to hide her cravings as much as she could. She had avoided searching for his eyes when she felt insecure, and started to use herself to a life without his selfishness actions, even though she couldn't not miss his warmth night. Mainly of this was because she couldn't see any signs of reciprocity. Diaval was so good, so caring, so kind and so polite—but he was like this to everyone else. Well, maybe not everyone, but he had the biggest of hearts. Maleficent knew pretty well that Aurora could ask him anything and he would kill a dragon if was to please her. In addition, if she asked him to share a bed with her —innocent ways or not—Diaval would gladly lay in bed and held her night after night until she needed him no more.

Maleficent felt no jealously at this—she had no right, no reason. There was a reliance on the bird—to appease nightmares, fears and useless dreams, which the memories, somehow, only got worse on his presence. Because he was the cause of them. Because he was her dreams, the future she craved—a family and children. For so long she had dreamed, but to dream of a magic she had no authority to claim was so also painful.

Was she not used to pain?

"I can't."

Because he didn't love her. Because he hadn't show any sings of interest. Because he looked at her with such respect she would just wish he would grab her and make love to her. Because there was nothing of which she wished more than to tell him that her nights weren't plagued with nightmares but dreams of loving him with her lips and body, claiming him with her blood, and bearing his young. Dreams of three little ones with obsidian wings and emerald eyes, flying through the skies with their mother and laughing at each other. Dreams of happy days and peaceful nights, where she could find solace on her mate's arms for no reason other than the fact he was her mate and so she could touch him whenever she wished to because he wouldn't reject her advances.

But her dreams were torments to her tired heart, of which she was so used to deny. They were nothing more than foolish hopes of a wounded soul that harboured whatever she shouldn't wish of having, despise being so beautiful and pure.

And that would never change.

"I can't." Her voice was so tired. Of running, of hiding and fighting the flame within her heart. For her dreams were beautiful and she no longer wanted to have them as dreams. "I can't—"

Love him.

"Why not?"

The fae's heart skipped a beat. The prospect of her terrible nightmares had her soul quickly alarmed, yet she knew better how to deal with them than to deal with her feelings for her servant and the foolish visions of having a family with him.

"I own him his freedom."

Oh...?

Aurora's lips twitched a little, and her eyes, finding no place on her godmother's, glanced down at her hands, so elegant and delicate. In one motion, she took one of them in hers. In response to the contact, the fae swallowed hard. With her chin high, her composition was the same as always—proud and royal—yet her eyes would betray her, so she diverted them from the girl to the beautiful horizon ahead them.

She had no wish to feel the pity in someone else's eyes. Not again.

"It is what needs to be done." She managed to say after some time.

"This isn't something you wish. Your wish is to keep him."

Maleficent would have said something—anything—had the pull on her hands not been so strong—as if Aurora was as desperate as her. But the young queen had no limits. She could have anything. Maleficent would give her anything, her subjects would give her anything, the prince would give her anything and Diaval would give her anything.

The fae had not been bestowed to be beloved by all who meet her. Fear was usually the first feeling anyone got upon meeting her.

And sometimes it was so difficult to deal with this fact.

"Godmother, please..."

Her wings rose in the instinct to protect their owner from more pain, to take her away. Aurora was quick to her will, enough to reach for her free arm, stopping her in her tracks. Breathless, as if she had run a little, Aurora forced Maleficent to turn. The hardness of her face was so horrible, so painful to see, that it almost made her break down in tears.

"You love him?" It sounded as a question, but it wasn't.

The muscles in her arm relaxed a little and her green eyes fell upon Aurora's. Guilt choked her heart, which in pain was not ashamed to beat in constant love for the girl. Her free hand stroked her golden hair in an apology.

"Greatly." The whisper, frustrated and filled in pain, was interrupted by herself and her eyes closed in one shot. Without her realising it, she shredded her once compassionate heart. Aurora remembered to have seen her that way before and somehow, it was all about her wings. It was a confession, she knew, of what she felt, of what she wanted, of what had always dreamed of having.

And yet...

"Ask him to stay."

Maleficent's eyes fell to the spot in the ground as a fair whisper came out in a breath, "I can't."

"Because he deserves his freedom?" Aurora asked firmly this time, as if she was talking to one of her servants after hearing him or her badmouthing her godparents. "Why can he not be free with you?"

"Free to be corrupted?"

Corrupted?

Aurora was alarmed, "Godmother, you could never harm him. He knows that. I know that. How can you not know?"

Could she really?

"Beastie..." Maleficent touched her cheek, caressing her skin softly, trying to avoid scratching her with her claws, eyes searching for features and scars of a past that was too recent. Hers held deep regret and sorrow and it was almost unbearable not to cry. "I cursed you." She whispered her guilty, her darkness and suddenly all made sense.

Corrupted—by darkness, selfishness, cruelty...the will to kill those who dare to defy. Maleficent was demanding. Her nature demanded to take what she wanted, unable to give anything in return. Not due lack of want. She was born to be—to harm and destroy. The embodiment of evil. It was on her features, assembling the fallen angel humans feared so much. It was on her very name, given by the fairies who saw on her eyes the darkness of hell. She fought over it, tried to flee from a destiny that was set on the stars, and yet she failed—she was betrayed, humiliated, hated and cursed. She cursed and she hated, she killed and destroyed. She saw Aurora and she felt how undeserving she was of her love. She was aware of the stares, of the murmurs and tales, about a witch who cursed a child and was killed in battle by a prince. She cared not to others to know the truth, she held no will to make others love her name (she knew they would never do, no matter how many lives she saved). It was egoistic enough to have the Queen's love, why deny such at this point? Yet her demanding heart cried for more, and she simply could not. For she had taken from Diaval so many years of his life. What right she had to demand the rest of it? And by her side, no less, as a mate, a lover, and then he would give and give and give like he always did, ever the fair and kind soul, while she could not even give him the simplest of things.

She would not allow it her wishes to overcome her reason. Not again. Creatures like her were not meant to claim the joy others had. It took Maleficent so many years to accept that and even now it burned her skin, smoldering her soul.

She would not allow her pain to corrupt others.

She could not.

She had no right.

"If you will not forgive yourself." The queen touched her hand over her cheek, pressing it slightly against her skin. And while Maleficent didn't answer with words, her eyes gave her away. Aurora smiled tearfully, "Then know I forgave you. I love you, Mother."

What?

She was out of breathe, "Aurora..."

"I do not care what you think, or what others may say. To me, you are my mother. You are the only mother I had all my life." Then, she opened a smile and the world seemed to be less cruel. "I love my aunts, I do, but you are my Mother and you may deny it, yet you were always there to protect me."

"To assure you would be alive to suffer from my curse, not because I loved you." Maleficent tried to reason, tried to find a way to make things look as they truly were—at least in her mind: that she was a monster that deserved no mercy or love. "I took you from Leah."

Aurora wouldn't question that so directly. She did wish she had met birth mother. Yet, to ignore what Maleficent did out of love wasn't fair.

"You loved me." She said. "More than the king could ever have tried. You saved me."

At the mention of Stefan, Maleficent's voice held bitterness, "I couldn't let him hurt you. I love you."

"Then be happy." Aurora put it simply. "How can I find any joy in life while yours is so blue? Besides..." she grinned as she added, "I cannot wait to have little siblings."

Maleficent's eyes widened, alarmed, while her heart beat faster and stronger than ever.

"Aurora—"

"Please, Mother. You love him and he loves you. Why not start a family?"

"Even if he did..." She stopped to clean her throat, suddenly dry at her own insignificance. She chuckled a humourless laugh, and shook her head, gaze down, "I can't."

"Why not?"

And the truth settled in.

"Hybrids are not meant to bear children."

There was a moment of many things you may want to consider before daring to think of, well, anything.

A dramatic pause, followed by tears, filled with grief restrained by a revelation the fae never wished to confront. She has always knew of her own limitations, but to say it out loud? It was the first time.

It was not surprising that Aurora was the first person to actually hear it. Maleficent loved the girl more than anything in the world, the princess was her light, and so she fae knew she could trust her.

But her pain became so much greater, tangent and raw, for now she was filled with the same humiliation that for years she suffered in silence, victim of the glances she received from the same people she swore to protect. Because from gnomes to pixies and elves as well—they all whispered and gossiped about the hybrid fae who could never participate in the festivities of spring because simply put—who would choose her?

And when the human chose power over her love, she spared herself from pity and groaned in anger before the forest, challenging anyone to say, "Why did you think it would be different?"

And yet, that silly raven man stormed into her dreams and hopes and there was nothing she could do but allow him. For his hugs were warmer than the sun, and his smile was daring—so much better than flying.

And nothing hurt more than realising she didn't deserve him—that she would never kiss his lips and say she loved him, that she would never make love to him, that she would never bear his—their—children.

Not because she didn't want to, but because she couldn't—shouldn't—wouldn't.

"I..." Aurora sobbed, and her face turned red from her embarrassment and sadness. The insistent tears on her skin added a look of desolation. And regret. "...oh, Mother."

The fae accepted her embrace, and nothing was added to the conversation, for nothing could bring her more comfort than the princess's love. She was not her daughter by blood, but by heart, and it was much more than she could ever dream of deserving—to have the girl whom she once hated loving her with all her heart, looking upon her with mercy, and not arrogance disguised as pity (as did the creatures of the forest).

She would not say that her heart wouldn't break even more to know that as the girl considered her as a mother, she could never be able to attend to such a simple desire: to give her siblings to love.

It was a cruel accessory to her self torture, and a wave of humiliation ran through her body, and she only not run away because she could not find any solace except to have her daughter in her arms.

Aurora herself felt even more than she could describe. For Maleficent deserved every single bit of happiness this world had to offer. If love was what she craved for, Aurora would do anything to help her getting it—if she could.

Knowing she couldn't stung like an open wound.

"I love you, Aurora." She heard Maleficent whisper.

She also did not fail to notice the clear guilt in the fae's voice, and took her hands between hers, watching her intently, "It is not a sin to want for more, Mother. I do not think less of you. Father would never think less of you because of this."

Maleficent nodded, twice, though as if trying to convince herself, and failing miserably. Becausemating is supposed to be about finding love—a partner for life—but a numerous offspring was the most expected result. And for years, even now, she craved so much to hold a child to her breast and call it hers.

She shouldn't—wouldn't—couldn't.

"He..." She swallowed the knot on her throat, "He wouldn't...he won't look at me as—"

"Because he's a raven and you a fae?"

"Hybrid." She corrected, her voice hoarse and with no energy behind. She despised her own blood—a cursed nature which could not create a life.

"Doesn't mean he can't love you." Aurora tightened her hold in her mother's hands. She knew how hard was for her to believe she deserved anything apart from sadness. It took her years to allow herself to love again, and even so, she was wary to romance as it had been what led to the loss of her wings.

But this was Diaval.

Come on.

"I understand your fear. ButMother," Her eyes were hurting at how many tears that had painted her face, but she couldn't help a small smile. She waited her while life to call someone that way. She was glad to finally do it. "Think of how much time you are losing now, living in fear. You deserve...so much more."

"So does Diaval."

"But he loves you. And he deserves an explanation. He can't understand why you left. He thinks he did something wrong, that he has offended you."

Maleficent shook her head, "He never faulted me, Aurora. Not even once. I could always trust him."

A soft, thoughtful smirk broken into Aurora's lips, "Because he's your wings?"

Maleficent returned the smirk, though it was also sad, "Because he's my wings."

"Will you talk to him then? He'll be attending my party tomorrow night. Will you be here as well?"

At last, Maleficent agreed, and Aurora reached out to wipe the remaining tears from fae's face. She considered, but in the end, prevented herself from insisting any further. Maleficent wouldn't budge, having for a lifetime refused to believe she was worthy of any kind of love. And in the few times she dared to hope, she was rejected and betrayed so cruelly. Aurora knew she was not afraid of Diaval—he would never hurt her—but she didn't believe him to see her as the woman she was, so in love with him, and willing to sacrifice everything to see him happy. Even if it resulted in nights of endless nightmares.

It killed Aurora to know there wasn't much she could do.

But she tried, nevertheless, "I miss your smile, Mother."

And then Maleficent smiled, for the first time in days, "Thank you, my love."

And for her, well, this was enough.

And then again, it wasn't.

A/N: (sighs) I love drama. And no, I'm not sorry for that.