Love and Acceptance

by schrijver

Spring arrives, and so does mating season to all living creatures. Nightmares, however, are what this moment of the year brings to Maleficent, who can only watch as everyone is happy to find a match while there is none for her. But what else to do? Romance was never a possibility to hybrids like herself. Besides, Diaval would never look at her 'like that'...would he?

6. Waves

A/N: "Pain, when in memories or dreams of what life can be, what it should have been, what it could have been, comes and goes like waves. It is almost always not easy to deal with. But it is easier to do it with you're not alone."

---

Act 6: Waves

"...I heard you haven't eat properly tonight."

Many minutes had passed and the couple remained alone by the balcony, touching closely and so freely, content with their intimacy and hoping this moment to never end.

"...your heard?"

Diaval mumbled a positive response—he had busied himself by planting soft kisses along his mate's exposed neck and shoulders, so talking wasn't an available alternative right now.

Not that Maleficent was complaining.

"Thistlewit?" It wasn't even a challenge to guess who might been watching her enough to notice her actions...or lack of them.

Diaval pecked her jawline, chin, and then her lips, "There is a why she chose food as my gift to you."

Maleficent sensed the worry and the care, though her voice was light in its usual sarcasm when it comes to one of the three pixies, "How kind of her."

Diaval rolled his eyes playfully, "Why, no need to be so grumpy. I have to admit she chose well. Apples, berries, even honey to sweet those walnuts you love, and I think I smelled some meat pies and bread, but I didn't have time to check."

The fae smirked softly, and teased, "Too eager to see me?"

Her mate's cheeks blushing didn't prevent him from admitting a rather obvious true. "Well, yes, I was. I missed you and...and I know, I mean, I didn't but—"

One finger resting over his lips stopped his incessant blabbing.

"Will you join me for dinner, dearest?"

The term of endearment transpired kindness, and it made Diaval brave enough try one of his own, "Anything for you, my love."

So you know, absolutely no one has ever called her like that and actually meant it—she was never anyone heart's desire—then you may already guess that the happiness in his voice made her chest swell in joy and her heart skipped a beat.

"Please, my lady," Diaval offered his hand, of which his mate gladly took, and so they walked closer to the balcony stone railing in which their pretty basket was still resting, "Apples, honey, walnuts? What it will be first?"

Maleficent was silent as she choose—she was indeed very hungry and it took a few minutes before she had devoured a little bit of everything the basket had to offer.

"You speak of me neglecting myself while you do the same." As the fae wouldn't even try to argue with her mate over her more than questionable ways of depriving herself any care, the raven man gave her a pointed look, "Mistress, you surely know—"

"I'm not your mistress." She interrupted quietly, and Diaval would blink then, taken aback at how quick his reasoning didn't seem to matter if his mate was sucking away the honey traces on the tip of her fingers, and the fae can only wonder, "It certainly can't be so difficult to remember, Diaval. You called me by name just minutes ago."

"I, uh, well," She had just grabbed a small amount of walnuts and was so looking causal and free, closing her eyes and sighing as the mix of flavours hit her tongue, to again lick her fingers, then her lips. Diaval's eyes followed every movement of her tongue. He was completely focused, not even blinking, and as Maleficent finished her meal, her mate couldn't remember his own name, "It...it will be difficult to...to...to break a habit of years, but...but...but..."

The fae, little the time she took to note what was making her mate totally incoherent, hummed in amusement, "...but what, dearest?" and she couldn't help the strong wish to tease him senseless now that she knew she wouldn't be rejected.

And, well, Diaval turned into a mess, "...Maleficent." He tested the name on his tongue, finding pleasure on how it sounded under his voice. "Maleficent." He repeated, devotion colouring everything, "Maleficent, may I kiss you?"

And her eyes lost their playfulness to give place to the lust brought by his words, which tasted like a prayer, a way of worshipping, and she could only and simply touch his lips in a heated kiss.

The raven man responded in kind, and the fae would rejoice in the warmth of their bodies pressed together.

Even before the betrayal, she was never one to allow others to touch her. Because no one ever wanted to touch her, so it wouldn't make a difference if she let others know she craved for physical contact.

When it comes to Diaval, you can imagine, touching felt ridiculously natural and comfortable, as if she had done it for years. In fact, for years she'd held him at night in search of the kind of comfort she believed she did not deserve.

Now it was different.

They were in a balcony of a huge castle, and anyone who dared to sneak by would see them so close and happy. And there was no shame or excuse to be like this—they were a couple, and it was obvious that they could touch each other without any regrets.

Maleficent wondered if the absurd ease in which she accepted her mate's contact was due to the absence of years or to the fact the who was touching her was the man she so dearly loved. She concluded it was both, and that mattered little. Diaval could touch her whenever he felt like, nothing would be forbidden, and the lack of limits that had been once unthinkable, was now more than welcome.

How curious, though, it was that the first man she loved had no care for her at all, to the point he severed her wings from her back, while the second (and last) man she would ever love blatantly worshipped her—and her wings.

"I love you..." He would say amid their kisses, moaning in appreciation to feel the sweet taste of her mouth, "...and I love your wings..." and Maleficent didn't find in herself the will to stop him, neither had she wanted to, "...they are as much beautiful..." His hands sneaked up from her waist to the base of said wings, fingers teasing and making goose bumps run freely across her spine. "...although they do need a proper preening."

His sudden (and typical) self-assured tone made the fae chuckle, "My work is not up to your standards?" She whispered against his lips.

Diaval actually paused to ponder—he was terrible at doing many things at the same time, "It's a different way to put things." He heard a short, deep snort express the fae's indignation, "It is my duty is to care for my mate's wings," He tried to explain, which didn't seem to work very well as Maleficent was now raising an eyebrow at him, "What? It is! At least, it is for ravens."

Maleficent sighed. She was in no mood for arguing. Also, Diaval preened her wings with such care. She had missed him dearly. "Will you preen them?" She asked.

A prompt grin, so ready to please, "Once we get back to the nest." He would've go on with his plans had not his mate tensed at the mere mention of that very special place in the ruins, "Unless that is not your wish, my love?"

Maleficent shook her head, "I'm afraid I...forgot about the nest."

"It is not abandoned, in case that's what you may be thinking. It has been just a few days. We could just reclaim it." Her eyes leaked gratitude but there were sadness too, "The past is in the past, my love." Diaval held her face, looking deeply into her eyes, "It doesn't matter anymore. We can return back to our nest and everything will be fine."

Our nest.

Oh, her heart was fluttering and it was so loud.

It felt so wonderful.

"Thank you." She said.

Diaval smiled in return, "We may go by the end of the festivities, if you want and—oh."

There was a crinkle on the raven man's brow and Maleficent brought two fingers up to soothe it away.

"What troubles you, dearest?"

The crinkle returned worse.

"Is it...selfish I have no wish to return to the festivities?"

His sincerity made her laugh, "Bored already?

Diaval was pouting adorably now, reminding Maleficent of their little beastie. If they were in any other situation, she would willingly abandon everything and everyone and fly to her nest with her beloved, forgetting about the rest of the world. Nevertheless, she remained strong, no matter how much she wanted to leave, for tonight belonged to her daughter and Aurora most definitely deserved all praise and love.

"We can't just leave, Diaval. The little beastie invited us here." She reasoned, and the raven man seemed to give in, "I thought you were enjoying the evening taking the amount of pies you ate in less than ten minutes."

Diaval raised a finger in his defence, "First—those pies were very good. Second—there weren't so many. Three—wait, you were not there to see me at dinner." His confusion turned into a triumphant smile, "Spying on me, weren't you?"

Maleficent ignored the fact she was caught, and nudged her mate's right side, "Is there any additional reason you don't wish to go back?"

"Other than losing any privacy with you?" The fae nodded, and then the light atmosphere was gone. Diaval's gaze became serious suddenly, lost in his own thoughts. Maleficent was curious and then concerned. She fondly tapped two fingers on his cheek and his attention turned to her.

"What troubles you, dearest?"

He sighed, "Going back to the little hatchling's festivities would...it will result on...others...looking at you and...and I don't know why the thought of it makes me angry." Maleficent's eyebrows rose in interest at the shy demonstration of possessiveness. Which just added to make Diaval nervous and look away, insecure and embarrassed, "You noticed, yes? And I heard them whispering. Obviously. And I can't even blame them for looking at you, I mean, look at you." His eyes touched her figure from head to toe, and Maleficent smiled, shaking her head, nuzzling his jaw line as he wouldn't stop talking, "This is completely inappropriate, is it not? You're not an object and here I am, treating you like one." He was playing with the fabric of her robes, always feeling if his way of thinking would make his mate tense, if such a strange will to own and protect was too out of line, "You are free to do and act as you wish, my love. I won't dare dictate now, after so many years serving, how you take your life—"

"—however I take my life involves you from now on, Diaval." Maleficent told him. "We are bonded."

The raven man nodded, "I know and I couldn't be happier, I just—I apologize. That was uncalled for."

To ease his worries, Maleficent pecked his chin, "Jealously is good, in a healthy pattern."

Diaval gulped, "...is it?"

"I feel it too."

"You do? Why?"

Maleficent huffed, "I was not blind to those noblewomen ogling you, begging for a dance."

Diaval was annoyingly surprised by this, "They wanted to dance with the one called the Queen's godfather, not Diaval."

A bite on his lower lip—a gentle warning, "I don't like sharing."

Diaval knew that, "My beautiful self is all yours, mistress."

Maleficent would've corrected him if she didn't knew he did it on purpose—as if stating her claim on him. And it made her smirk. She would no longer deny her feelings—be them love, hope, compassion, lust, or possessiveness. And if Diaval was hers, she would make sure everyone knew.

Which reminded her of something very important.

"Has Thistlewit told you I must gift you in return to your proposal?"

That almost made Diaval jump, such was his enthusiasm.

"Can it be shiny?"

Maleficent grinned. It took seconds for memories from the time she was but a child to hit her head with thousands of ideas. Summoning her magic, two azure stones were created. Then, she selected a flower from the pretty basket still resting by the balcony stone railing and with a little bit more of magic, a pair of silver rings was formed, one particularity smaller than the other, both having dark azure gemstones encrusted on them.

Diaval was totally captivated by the pair of silver little things, "May I?" He asked, holding out his hand.

Maleficent merely nodded, and watched as he slid the smaller ring on her middle finger, to then slid the larger one on his. Then, he interlaced his fingers with hers, and the fae loved the way his skin felt warm and welcoming and like home, and how incredibly large his hand was when compared to hers, rings shining together against the moonlight.

Upon returning her gaze to his, what she saw was a smile, gained through the freedom contemplated by the position they were in. Maleficent let her free hand slid through the raven's neck, up to his hair, stroking it and scratching his skull with her fingers, then plunging the feathers of his head as she searched for any doubt, any regret, finding only the love hidden for more years she was allowed to think of. For to do so was to recognize how much time was lost on revenge and anger, and it pained her heart to realize this could've been hers for a long time already.

It has, in fact, always been hers.

She just wasn't brave enough to see it.

"I love you," came the whisper and the smile, warm as the back of her hand slid down his right cheek, fingers resting on his lips, which parted slightly at the tempting touch, denouncing his breathless condition.

And Diaval's heart was beating so fast that his voice seemed to be lost on him. When he found it some strength to speak, was only to whisper, "...my love?"

She now was the one not to wish to leave the balcony, "...yes, dearest?"

Diaval was smiling, "I suspect the little hatchling wishes to know if her parents are done being alone."

Maleficent turned immediately,startled by the sudden presence of her little beastie, who was no longer hiding behind the door that separated the balcony from the ballroom.

The fae felt her cheeks flush, not knowing exactly what Aurora might have witnessed. She would not be embarrassed, she felt that Diaval also wasn't, but she understood that it was not appropriate for her daughter to see her godparents exchanging so intimate caresses.

Although, from Aurora's gaze, she was so happy to see them together.

"Beastie—"

"Are things settled now?" the Queen asked anxiously, taking two steps closer to them.

Diaval's smiled turned proud, and he secured his arm around his mate's waist, nodding.

Aurora's eyes lit up, and she smiled beautifully, but she could not say anything, bringing her hands to her face and wiping away the tears that fell from her eyes.

"Oh, little hatchling." Diaval quickly walked to Aurora to wrap her in a strong, protective embrace. "Those are tears of happiness, yes? You know we could not have done it without you." He took the Queen's face in his hands, "And how you knew how to handle such stubborn minds, I cannot say."

And Aurora laughed, amused, and the tears insisted on falling, "It was worth it." She said.

Diaval kissed her forehead, "Please, forgive us for the trouble anyway, we just..." He shared a look with Maleficent, whose eyes were gentle and loving, "...we didn't find ourselves worthy of each other."

Aurora huffed, "Oh, I knew that."

Diaval laughed, "Indeed, but it's settled now."

"And..." She looked down, fingers playing with her robes, her voice hopeful and shy, "...does that mean I may call you Father from now on?"

The smile on the raven man's face fell away, and a look of pure surprise took over. Aurora wanted to laugh at his comic expression, while Maleficent observed her mate, curious to know of his reaction. He couldn't have been more sincere if he tried. His eyes were filled with tears.

"...w-what?"

"Godmother is Mother to me, so I hoped..." Her voice became so small, as her figure seemed to shrink from uncertainty, and her arms surrounded herself, seeking for warmth, "Doesn't need to mean anything, I suppose. You don't need to—"

"But I'm not worthy."

Aurora apparently learned to how to give someone a proper cold glare, and Diaval knew then that he had spoken a great deal of nonsense.

"That is her choice to make, not yours."

Maleficent walked directly to the young Queen, who accepted her embrace although her frown did not disappear. The fae laughed at it, and kissed the space between her eyebrows, relieving the tension in Aurora's face, "Ignore what he says." She told the Queen, "Your Father can be very foolish when he wants to."

And Aurora giggled, while Diaval let out a whelp of indignation.

"I love you both so much." Finally, said the Queen, causing Diaval to move and put his mate and his daughter into his arms.

"It is an honour to be loved by you." His voice deepened, and he no longer held his emotion. "Thank you, little one."

The silence that followed their embrace was comforting and Maleficent knew then that she couldn't love them more that she already did. It was an everlasting pure feeling, powerful and passionate and honest, and she almost gave it up for fears that existed no more.

Through her whole life, she also truly struggled to understand why whatever goodness would happen to her—a hybrid that had been fated by nature to be alone. It was the result of being emotionally neglected: that old unfamiliarity when it comes to affection.

If, by chance, she agreed to be completely honest, she would say she never really believed in her heart that any moment of pure joy in her life had been indeed real. She once theorized on projections of her own mind joined with her magic, perhaps some kind of illusion with a touch of self-pity—which came to happen later, yes, in the form of dreams about three little faes she loved so much.

Within reason, those little who dared to actually get to know her may think she was being paranoid. She never denied not to be, though she also didn't appreciate the thought. She was a very suspicious fae, and she had too much pride to admit her mistakes and flaws—and because it was painful to do such. She would, she knew very well, always have a hard time to understand that true love and merciful acceptance finally came to pass to her.

Yet again, it all seemed simple and incredibly easy that she was surprised at how quickly she just...gave in. She knew she was happy beyond measure, as if she hadn't been in her whole life, and if by chance this was a dream, she would unmercifully kill whomever creature or god had tricked her, as well curse anyone who tries to wake her.

She had waited too much to have her happy ending, after all.

---

The return home flight took place a few hours later.

Aurora, having her joyful nature returned due the news of her parents' union, danced and talked and greeted many different people. The young Queen loved her people—supposedly more than a ruler should. She would have offered a toast if it the union of two people without the need of a ceremony didn't sound so strange to the inhabitants of the human kingdom. Their presence enough was scandalous, although Aurora knew that some would approve of the new traditions.

Wanting to avoid arguments, the young Queen simply enjoyed the rest of the night. She wouldn't allow her happiness to be infected by the animosity of her guests.

The night progressed without any incidents, and little by little the people started leaving, and Aurora insisted on staying up until the last guest left her castle—though her advisors insisted that the party could go on without her presence.

"Time to rest." Maleficent whispered to the young Queen, chuckling as the girl muttered something in a drowsy voice. She was in her chambers, cosily lying under the many covers of her bed. The servants had already left for the night. The castle was silent in an interesting contrast to the party that finally ended few minutes ago.

Her parents watched over her rest, not wanting to leave till they were sure everything was fine to their hatchling.

"Thanks for coming." Aurora then said, opening her eyes to reveal a typical weariness of someone who danced all night. "It means a lot to me."

Maleficent shared a look with her mate, who watched their interaction with a loving smile.

"It was an honour." She leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead, "Now, you should rest."

Aurora whined pathetically, "Do you have to leave?" Then, she yawned, "I don't want you to leave. And yes, I know this is selfish, but..."

"We would love to stay, little one." Diaval spoke as he stroked her golden hair, and the young Queen sighed in contentment, "But I fear that's not a good idea."

They all knew of the hatred that many nobles had for Maleficent's persona, but that went unspoken.

Aurora's face was filled with sadness once she realized what her parents were saying. She wanted to contest them, but she knew they were right, "I wish I could make them understand how important you are to me," she said.

"They know." Diaval told her, "You invited us here, and you call us father and mother, then—"

"—they should respect you. Because I do. I love you."

Maleficent smiled, "We love you, too. But you cannot impose your desires on the people, having so little time in which Diaval and I ceased to be enemies to the humankind."

"But—"

"Therefore—" Diaval cut her off gently, and the young Queen sighed, "Let's take this slowly, hm? One thing at a time."

The young Queen huffed, "I will not accept gossip, Father. Absolutely no one speaks lies of my family and gets away with it."

Maleficent smirked, "Look, Diaval. The little beastie has fangs."

Aurora let out a grunt of complaint, and her eyes closed, sleep quickly wrapping her mind, "...I'll miss you" being the last thing she whispered before she was lost in dreams of the most beautiful kind.

Maleficent wished she could watch her sleep, "Good night, my daughter." She leaned in and kissed her forehead, smiling as the heard a little snore.

She left the Queen's chambers in quite steps, closing the door behind her. Turning to Diaval, she was caught out off guard by a sudden kiss. She took a second to recover herself, and cupped his face, pulling away as if trying to figure out the whatever he meant by it.

The raven man simply rested his forehead against her, and smiled so lovingly that it took her breath away, and she chuckled softly, stroking his cheeks.

"Let's go home?" He asked.

They walked to the edge of the balcony, spreading their wings and swimming toward the highest clouds.

Aurora, although blacked out, smiled dreamily, and her heart was filled with happiness and peace.

Seeing her parents happy was the best birthday gift she could have ever received.

---

"I told you it was safe to return—"

Diaval fell silent at his feet touched the nest—the pretty basket in his hands finding the floor in a poetic fall. Maleficent was right behind him, and her jaw tightened before the sight.

The nest in the ruins was in ruins. One would have expected it to be after a week of abandonment and neglect, but the situation was so chaotic that it looked like a hurricane had destroyed everything—probably in the form of some thieving sprite who plundered their things. The floor was dirty and filled of dried leaves, the blankets were torn and wet from the rain that had come in through the window that no longer had curtains.

Maleficent blamed herself for this and more, and quickly wanted to repair her damage.

"Someone was here." She said as she checked on the open chest placed by the right side on her bed. She cursed as the noticed that not even her grows were intact. The same could be said about the small things Aurora had gifted her over the last two years—among jewellery, cloaks, leather gloves, a small mirror and a bottle of mead.

Either stolen or shattered to pieces.

Diaval was not happy at all, "I cannot believe it!" He spoke as he walked around, muttering endless curses as he calculated the damage done to his nest. He was very vain, even to a bird of his kind, so all that mess made him crazy. "How could anyone do this?"

Maleficent tried to identify any traces of magic that had been left behind, but clearly the attacker of her home was not a creature of the Moors.

She sighed, and moved her hand in a circle, and the fireplace was lit.

The mess became even more evident with the light of the fire, and Maleficent watched her mate sit on the edge of her—their bed.

"This is outrageous." He exclaimed indignantly. "And they call us savages!" Maleficent rescued the pretty basket from the floor, placing on the nest as she sat down beside her mate. Her presence relaxed Diaval immediately, and he intertwined their fingers, "But it's nothing we cannot fix, no? It may take days—"

"Or I can use magic," The fae suggested.

Diaval nodded, "Or you can use magic, yes."

"You can change whatever you like, Diaval." Maleficent made sure of adding, "This is your nest as well."

"I have one request, yes, but it is not about the nest."

Maleficent tilted her head to the side, curious and silent, waiting for her mate to continue. Diaval seemed suddenly uncertain, and hesitated before taking a breath and saying, "I provide the food—unless the weather won't help, of course. Apart from that, no sprouting trees or brushes from the ground. Can we...agree on that?"

Maleficent stared at him, "...why is it about you preparing me meals?"

Diaval gulped, lowering his head in a shy way that did not match his extroverted personality, "I...you know that raven males are providers. There is no need of me, because you have your magic. I just...want to feel useful."

"You are." Her eyes reflected the light from the fireplace, and her fingers were so swishing over his face that it felt like a feather touching his skin. Diaval closed his eyes for a moment, purring at the affection. "More than you may know."

This time, he smiled proudly, "I adore taking care of you." he said as he opened his eyes to look at her closely, "Just...please?"

That damned pout.

"Has the beastie instruct you to pout at me whenever you want something?"

Diaval visibly panicked, "What? No, of course not. I mean, Aurora? Our little beastie? Of course not." The fae only needed to arch an eyebrow at him, "Well, yes. I mean, it seemed so effective."

Maleficent let out an exasperated sigh, "Very well." She finally conceded and Diaval was so happy that he stole a kiss. The fae laughed against his lips, "...anything else? Perhaps a new set of clothes?" The few ones he owned were given by herself, but were tore part by whoever destroyed their nest, and the ones he was wearing had been Aurora's gift and although Maleficent found him very handsome on them, they were not what he was used to. Just, too many layers.

"I might need them, right?" A red tone washed his face when his mate raised an amused eyebrow him, "Not that this ones are not fancy enough. Just...not suitable to sleep, I suppose? You don't need to do anything, I mean—"

"—a new set of clothes is it."

The raven nodded too quickly, thankful his babbling was interrupted, "Right, of course. Anything for you, my love."

"But first—" She moved both hands, allowing magic to run through her fingers, "We fix this mess."

And in a touch of magic, everything returned to its place, only in a different way.

Alive—typical of spring.

Flowers floated as lanterns, shining in different colours. The floor was nothing but clean, and the old brick walls were an ornate by pattern of vines that slipped on all sides, forming designs and hugging the furniture limited to a larger chest, chairs and a table in which the pretty basket, as well as ceramic pots and jars rested modestly. The bed was lined by fur and blankets and pillows. The dried leaves were reduced to fuel to the fireplace. The curtains decorating the now larger window were revamped into a dark blue fabric that gleamed, imitating the stars.

A soft perfume of flowers wafted through the air. It reminded Maleficent of a garden and overall looked very old-fashioned.

She couldn't say she was surprised, though. She was always told that her magic would reflect her state of mind, and if she was happy, her magic would know. It was the only explanation for such a beautiful nest.

And she'd have smiled if not, among the first things she noticed looking around, for the stillempty spot on a forgotten corner.

As if her mind still silently hoped for a change that would not come.

"I didn't know you could do that. This is—" Diaval turned happily to her, and his face fell as he noticed the tears on her face, "Are you—my love, what's wrong?"

Maleficent was not startled by the words, but to the evidence of tears washing her face without her even realizing it. She touched her cheeks and felt them, heavy and salty, and wiped any traces with the back of her hand.

"I'm fine." She said.

Diaval, not convinced by the answer he got, tried again and candled her face so they would look into each other's eyes, "I'm your mate. You can trust me to share your fears with."

Maleficent kissed his right hand in an apology, "I won't have secrets with you." She felt compelled to tell him first. "But I know for sure how cruel of me is to want to share such burdens with you."

"You're not a burden to me. You're my mate. And I love you."

The fae tried for a smile, but the torment would have no end if she did not create a distraction. She felt agitated but fully tired, and soon knew what her lover could do to comfort her, "Would you mind preening my wings?"

It could be a wonderful idea taking her tired condition, as she always fell asleep when he preened her wings, so perhaps that was the relief she needed to forget her past and focus on the beautiful future ahead of her.

Diaval pressed a soft kiss to her temple, "It will be my honour."

And a soft smile emerged on his face as he watched his mate sat gracefully by the nest, removing her shoes and jewellery, and closing her eyes in waiting. Diaval settled himself behind her and, ever so gentle, placed his hands on the lowest part of her back and started preening his mate's wings with the ever so usual angelical care.

It proved to be an alluring temptation on both sides. Maleficent couldn't keep the sighs escaping from her lips as much Diaval would be more bold on his caresses, and then he wasn't preening her wings anymore, but stimulating her skin while discovering new ways to take sighs from her mouth.

Things got messy when he pulled her hair aside to have a better access of her back, and before he knew he had an arm wrapped around her middle, kissing the base of her wings as if his life depended on it.

"So beautiful..." He whispered faintly, reaching out to grab her hand and interlace their fingers. "So, so beautiful..."

Maleficent was gasping within seconds, and barely managed to ask, "Diaval, what...what are you doing?"

Diaval's kisses stopped and Maleficent immediately regretted having saying anything at all, "I...I just love them so much." And oh, she felt like crying. Because no one had showed her so much love and adoration and care. The fibres of her body were awake and on fire—there was no control, just want and desire.

"...don't stop."

He obeyed her and was daring, and his kisses turned into licks and then he was sucking and biting and her back would arch, and whimpers would escape her lips and her wings would flap in incoherent reactions, her hands holding his arms around her middle for dear life. Because he was kissing her wings. Nothing else felt that good before.

"I love you..." He kept saying, and his kisses found her neck and shoulders, "...I love you so much."

His passion spoke out to her own, and she reached behind and hooked her arm around his neck, guiding his face to hers and capturing his lips in a kiss that renewed her energies and made her happy by only tasting his lust and basking on his warmth. His hold on her waist tightened considerably, and she sighed, knowing she had found home.

They soon became lost in kisses that had been denied for so long, both now lying down on the nest, she on top of him, kissing and biting, hands searching and feeling. Neither of them was to deny right away what was to come, implied in silent touch. Added by the intimacy of the situation, so innovative for both of them, a required passion was no longer foreign, setting fire on their desire to give themselves to each other.

But when Diaval began to react to her touches, he suddenly felt ashamed of the memories and dreams of the present situation. Almost immediately, he pushed her away and sat up, flushed and breathless.

Maleficent, burning with desire as never before, was undoubtedly dazzled and confused when everything ceased so suddenly. At first, she assumed that she was being too forward in her passion, but when she saw a bulge between her mate's legs, hard and salient against the fabric of his pants, she began to understand the reason for the raven man's shyness.

And he, realizing she had noticed his outstanding desire, turned away, failing miserably on trying to explain himself, "I'm s-sorry, I—" Maleficent was frowning now, eyes ever observant and already knowing too much, and Diaval felt his head spinning, trying to focus on his next words. "It...it might be better if we rest." He spoke, "Y-you cannot go without resting. It...it is not a healthy practice."

Maleficent's frown deepened, "Diaval—"

"W-we could sleep?" He suggested, making sure to look at everything but her, "You know you can get very...very angry when you don't sleep. Actually, you get furious. It's almost scaring. I don't want to—"

"Diaval."

The raven man was silent in an instant. For Maleficent, such an attitude didn't make sense taking the way he had kissed her. Besides, she knew pretty well what she wanted—she wanted him with her, as her lover, she wanted to mate him—and she had felt, literally, that he shared her thoughts. Why was he running away? Was he afraid of her? Maybe it was all very new to him? Too fast?

"Look at me, dearest." She tried to use a gentle tone, but it was evident that the raven man was avoiding her. She gave into a sigh, "Look at me. Now."

And so he did, shyly, but he did, and it disarmed her completely. The emotion of his eyes was surprising and the number of things it could represent to her, to both of them, made her face blush, and her heart was at the point of exploding in love.

"What troubles you?"

He didn't answer her right away. His mind was occupied in reminding him of the many times he had flown through the human realm. And he had, quite shamefully, overheard a few human conversations.

By entering barns, houses, huts—and even the castle—when no one was watching, his understanding had been increased in a quite productive way. Diaval knew the magic within his beloved's nature, it was obvious she wasn't human. The raven man was not sure if he should let things go on so quickly—despite his absurd lust being a pang to his male senses. His desired to mate was enthralling, and he could feel it would be the strangest and strongest of impulses—he wasn't in control, he could barely control his thoughts. As methodical as ravens were, Diaval wanted to do things properly, his bird nature begged him to, and if his paranoia was going to ruin such a special night with his beloved, he knew he had to distract his mind from doing things with her, in the first place.

"Diaval...?" Her eyes wandered over his face, not truly finding a resolution. His lack of response was now unsettling, though it had no reason for it. It was odd that he was the one that didn't feel ready to take that kind of step. Unless— "Do you know what happens between...intimately between mates?"

Diaval nodded too many times that left Maleficent intrigued.

So he knew what happened and didn't want to fully engage into it? She could think in very few reasons, from fear to disgust. Or...perhaps he thought it was a useless act as no offspring would be born from it? Possible, though it didn't help. It was a maddening situation. The man she loved clearly enjoyed touching her wings at the same time he couldn't help on how his body reacted, and so there was nothing more they could do than...kissing.

Well, then.

Maleficent silently swallowed the sharp pang of disappointment that crossed over her heart. She had always imagined that once—if they ever got together, Diaval would act as the bold creature he was...and would ravish her day and night. She didn't even blush at the thought. She wasn't ashamed of what she felt. She wanted him to make love to her. She needed to feel him—needed to feel wanted, desired, needed to be connected to him in such intimate way so the pain would go away. She craved for that kind of assurance.

But he would need to wish the same.

He didn't.

Damn it.

Maleficent could convince herself—with lots of persuasion—that she could live with kisses, only. That small touches were just fine to soothe the fire within her heart. But it certainly didn't hurt any less knowing that of the many things she had been denied through her life, one more was added to the list—intimate physical contact. She had always wanted to know how it was like to dance as lovers have done since the beginning of times—why other creatures spoke so highly of how magical it felt to have your soul and body joined to another.

Yet she loved Diaval way too much to impose any wishes on him. He had already sacrificed the chance of an offspring to be with her. Maleficent wouldn't ask for more.

"You—" She bit her tongue, ending any suggestions. Asking him to sleep as a raven for tonight—for some time—maybe forever—would make her life a lot easier, yes, but she couldn't. This was their nest and Diaval deserved to rest in the form he saw most fit. Sure, it would be a battle not to deflect her frustration, and yes, she had no idea how to manage being so close, knowing she could kiss him and that's it. Nightmares and then dreams of little faes—she (badly) knew how to deal with them, but she knew. When it comes to her passion, so alive and raw, she needed time.

Forcing a smile, she said, "Let's rest."

Diaval hesitated, "...I apologise if I—"

"Let's rest." She insisted. She would never voice her wishes because she didn't need Diaval feeling guilty over this—passion was just a part of the union between lovers, she didn't need it to survive—she wanted to have a taste, to feel it in her skin. Life thought otherwise—and like many other things, lust wasn't something she deserved.

She hated as much she accepted it.

And she would've moved away had not Diaval reached out to grab her hands, and she felt forced to face him.

His eyes were vulnerable in a way she had never seen before, "I'm sorry for...I just...I can't help, I...I'm sorry." Diaval lowered his head, ashamed, and Maleficent felt her heart tighten, "I didn't mean to offend you."

A hand touched his face, "You have never offended me."

Diaval eyed her strangely, "Then why you don't sound happy?"

Oh, the way she would sigh so deeply told him wonders.

"...it doesn't matter how I feel."

Diaval gaped—actually, squealed, "Of course it does!" He exclaimed. "You're my mate and…" Now he was blushing. He was not finding strength in himself to deny his own desire, "...and there is nothing I wish more than...than to be with you...intimately."

Wait, what?

"You do?" She would've been more eloquent, but it was like she had lost her voice, and her gaze dropped to his lips for a second before finding his eyes again. Did he really—? Oh, she would be kissing him senseless if she wasn't so confused, "What's stopping you?" She asked.

The blush on her mate's cheeks deepened. To have thoughts on the pain that would come to her did not help him to forget how much he wanted to lose himself within her, but he had to try.

"I've never felt this so...so strongly. I can barely think and...and...I want to...do so many things."

Maleficent licked her lips, her mouth getting dry at the words spoken in hot passion. She had many ideas of what she wanted him to do to her, and of what she wanted to do to him.

"You are ought to feel this way, dearest." She almost purred.

Diaval was trembling, "But I m-may hurt you and...and I wouldn't be able to live knowing..." and sounded very afraid of himself, "...k-knowing I hurt you by any chance. I-it...it happens to human women when they lay with their husbands and I...and I don't want to hurt you. I c-can't."

"You won't hurt me, Diaval." Maleficent had to admit that she found her mate's concern quite lovely, and the confused expression he was offering at her grin was, without a sign of doubt, the most amusing thing she has ever seen. Her beloved raven couldn't understand why such feeling was so overwhelming.

And she would be more than glad to make him see.

And feel it.

"But—"

"I'm not a fragile flower." Her skin was as soft, but Diaval would rather show it than saying it, "And I don't care about pain." She continued, "It can't be worse than what the gods have placed upon me."

"Iron weakness has nothing to do with this matter, mistress—"

"The name is Maleficent." She smirked at the frown on his face, "And she's not human. Human women have been cursed in the beginning of times. So have men and their world. Fairies and consequently faes have not."

"Are you sure?" The raven man asked, causing Maleficent to roll her eyes, "Oh, don't be mad at me, I'm trying to make things clear before...before we do anything, I mean, you must see I don't want you hurt while I—it's not fair."

"Life is not fair, Diaval." She said matter-in-fact, "But I was never afraid, was I?"

Diaval was silent by the feel of her eyes gazing upon his, eliciting a curse from his throat.

"Why you look at me like—?"

Too late. He was cut off by a passionate kiss, though the hands touching his face were gentle, sliding fingers down his cheeks, up to his hair. And it was so overwhelming that not even Maleficent was expecting the passion of it. But, as much it had been unexpected, it was welcomed.

There was no turning back now…

"You won't hurt me." She said as she crawled her way to sit on his lap.

Diaval's voice was ragged, eyes tightly shut, "H-how can you be so sure?"

She wouldn't know. She had no experience to share, she had never done any of this with anyone. No one but Diaval had touched her so. She was glad he would be her first and last. She wasn't ignorant, however, and knew very well how nature worked.

Above all, she trusted her mate with her life.

"You're my wings." She said.

You never faulted me. Not even once.

"P-promise me you will tell me if I hurt you? Please, p-promise me."

Maleficent whispered her promise as she planted an almost chase kiss over his lips. Her hands clutched her grip on his chest, revelling in the fabric of his robes. Diaval was hesitant at the beginning, holding back, more thinking and panicking than feeling and enjoying the moment.

His mate sensed his worry, and whispered, "Touch me."

Tentatively, his hands slid up her sides, squeezing here and then. She took it as a sign to grow bolder, and licked his lips, and he groaned, tasting her tongue with his.

Sighing in relief, she worked on assisting him on taking of his coat and vest. Then, she was unlacing the handkerchief around his neck and unbuttoning his shirt, her hands trembling as they moved up to his shoulders, and she inwardly thanked Diaval for taking the hint and pulling his shirt off, letting it fall by the nest.

The first thing to caught her eyes was the set of scars protruding through her mate's skin. A feeling of possession took over her heart, making her understand the passion within her chest, accepting it without complaints. Smirking, she let her fingers delineate the large scar over his stomach.

A sigh echoed through Diaval's mouth, and he leaned in so his lips could touch hers.

It was sweet and heated. Maleficent whispered words of encouragement to his mouth, waiting for him to fulfil her need and undress her as soon as possible. As he did so, white skin to be caressed by his trembling hands. Maleficent never felt so alive—her skin burned under the fabric of her robes. Diaval, too, was remembered by the softness of her. Her grown ended throw away and the cold that hit her skin caused goosebumps, but the fire was beginning to feel uncomfortable.

Underneath, she wore a substantially small piece of underwear, made of white and soft fabric, probably silk, almost transparent, covering the once forbidden parts of her body—from her breasts to her mid tight. Impatient she was, a wave of her fingers and her underwear disappeared, exposing everything to a dark pair of lustful eyes.

Diaval, chest heaving up and down, pupils dilated and so dark, blatantly stared.

"...dearest?"

And leave it to Maleficent to feel self conscious when the man she loved wouldn't even blink as he stared at her breasts with pure fascination.

But he was so memorized by the sight of a naked fae in the penumbra that his thoughts fled focus, spreading exhaustive heat through his body.

"They—I mean, you are so...so..." Releasing some air, Diaval noticed the throttle on his breath. His gaze reluctantly left her chest and returned to her face, more precisely to her beautiful eyes, and only then he became aware of the affection look the fae had on him. He swallowed, "W-what do you want me to do, my love?"

Maleficent let her hands to find his face, outlining his features and making him close his eyes at her soft touch. Her mouth brushed his as she said, "All of me is allowed."

It was dangerous to say so, especially with her mate's eyes being so clouded with desire. But Maleficent had no fear. She had craved for those wild feelings for a long time. She wanted to feel him and to make him feel her love for him. She knew he wanted the same. To ravish her like an animal.

She welcomed his passion and her own.

"...touch me, Diaval."

Please came unspoken.

In seconds, she was on her back, his hands on her wrists, pulling them over her head. Maleficent just eyed him, curious at the sudden attitude. His touch was delicate, though, and soon she had her palms filled with tender kisses. His lips travelled up her right arm, and he licked her skin, torturing her in unforgettable ways. Her breath became audible; she was panting—her passion for him was suffocating.

"I love you." She felt his fingers tracing her features as his lips nibbled on hers, teasing and daring her to try anything. The fae moaned in pure desire, shamelessly revealing on the lips over her body. "I'm yours." His voice sounded strong as a wolf howling, warm as the dragon's fire and proud as a horse's trotting in the fields. He nibbled her earlobe, forcing her attention to pay attention to what he was saying and not to the pleasure of his actions. Maleficent was slightly surprised by the act and at how much this new side of her mate made her aroused. "You...are you mine as well? Mine to take? To love?"

And here was the sweetness of the berries a raven must harvest to his mate that made her heart even more in love. That side that cared about her well-being more than anything else, that side that would always listen to her thoughts, that side that would put her first, the side that saw her as an option—the best one. By his own choice and will, she would be his, and any fears became so superficial and foolish, for between possession and gentleness, what prevailed was the pure sense of protection. The power brought by the knowledge that he wanted her and no one else.

So she waited no time to promise, "...yes."

And for many it may seem absurd to give yourself to another so independently, but Maleficent has been alone for enough time already, thinking that no one would have her, for what pride could bring a cursed creature?

Diaval never saw anything but her—it was always her, and she would gladly belong to him, she was proud of him just as he was proud of her. Her world was no longer her own—she could share it with someone else. She was wanted by the one her heart wanted and the position she was in made her clearly feel said want, swollen and hard between her legs. Her own wetness increased, and tentatively moving her hips against his, a sudden electric wave snatched her.

They kissed passionately. Her hands relied on his strong shoulders, pinning his body against hers. His fingers began caressing the base of her horns, slipping into her hair as his lips made their journey from her jawline to her neck.

Her hands found their way to his back, shamelessly exploring his scars and so often squeezing his muscles, having sighs and grunts as response to her touches. His heart was against hers, and his scars were prominent to her stomach and her centre burned. To be in her mate's arms made her happy, but the fact that she actually had a mate to call hers was ecstatic.

Before long, she felt trembling hands cupping her breasts. Diaval savoured the feel of them, delighting himself in weight and softness, until he could no longer resist and squeezed them slightly, his thumbs rubbing and pitching. Maleficent had no shame when she covered his hands with hers, pressing it to assert his touch and her appreciation, encouraging him to continue what he was doing, wishing he wasn't so afraid of hurting her.

When he pulled his lips away, Maleficent groaned in complain, but when she felt his tongue cross over her collarbone, forming a trail of saliva that felt cold against the breeze, she lost it.

Diaval was in absolute awe by the fae's skin. Her taste was alluring and he couldn't get enough of it. She sweating warmly, and he could feel her heartbeat against his tongue. He took a minute to leave her neck and replace a hand in her chest with his mouth, drowning in the softness of her skin, the fat of her full breast, licking and sucking. He took his time, apparently unable to get rid of such a possessive feeling of tasting, not when his mate was moaning quietly against his ear, practically begging for more.

As his kisses turned into bites, Maleficent pulled his hair, pressing his head closer to her chest, not wanting his kisses to ever stop. She was moaning incessantly. Her claws dug into his muscles, feeling them contract, and the more frantic his movements became, the more noises were issued through silence. She blinked at the ceiling, her ears picked up the sound of her mate's sucking and her own moans. When Diaval decided to leave her breasts and kiss below, she dared to look down, and she felt her cheeks burn for her effort, when he felt her mate moving down her body with his kisses. Despair led her, making her take his face in her hands, and ignoring the confused look he offered her, she brought his wet lips to hers.

Amid a nest of darkness, the fae and the raven lost themselves in newly erotic sensations. Hands were guided through naked skin, inexperienced but willing to learn. Passion was present, as fire seemed to surround them.

Everything seemed to stop, however, when dark-browned feathers were touched...

Maleficent gasped and arched her back. Diaval took advanced of the fact that her back was no longer touching the nest and began to massage the small set of feathers that surrounded the base of her wings. Maleficent groaned and dug her claws into his shoulder blades. Diaval bit her neck in response and rolled them over, and Maleficent lied half away on the top of him, one leg over his waist, breasts pressing against his chest, shaking hands gripping his arms, gasping mouth against his neck. His hands rested on her hips, and he couldn't prevent a quiet moan, sincere and willing.

Maleficent started placing several kisses over his neck and chest, as if healing the scars that her magic had caused, and when she could no longer bear the will, she turned to his lips.

He kissed her back, mirroring the feelings she carried and giving free space to desperation, mostly brought by his hands, which instinctively turned to stroke her wings. These became restless, and flapped on their will. Maleficent frowned when trying to concentrate on stopping them. When no wish seemed to work on settling her wings, she pulled away and rested her forehead against her beloved's, breathing harshly.

"...my love?" Diaval was calling her while ceasing to caress her wings and they finally stopped flapping.

Maleficent allowed herself a moment to breathe. She was not puzzled by the influence her mate had on her wings, but how now his touches carried freedom and she could say nothing to explain what she was feeling, for she lacked wise or plausible words. The pleasure of her mate's hands caressing her wings had stolen her power of speech.

"Is...is everything well with your wings?" Diaval asked worriedly. "They seem...restless tonight."

Maleficent found his innocence adorable, "They've always reacted to your touch, Diaval." She replied with a smile.

"My touch?" He waited for her quite assertive so he could run his fingers up from her back to her right wing, scratching lightly. That resulted on an unfocused movement, and Maleficent shivered, "Are you cold?" Diaval asked as he felt the goosebumps on her arms, and turned on his side to wrap his arms more securely around her body. Maleficent loved how warm his body was against hers, also finding it funny that he did not realize the effects he had on her, nor the simple reactions he could get by simply touching her wings.

"Do you...do you wish to stop?"

He was so filled with a barely hidden desire and lack of self control that the fae could only wish to kiss him.

"Do you?" She had to ask, though it was unnecessary.

Diaval chose to be honest, "I...no...but if you—"

"I don't wish to stop."

He closed his eyes, "...you don't?"

Her reply was to kiss him. Her claws stuck in his pants, in a futile attempt to get them out of her way. She knew of the boldness of her actions, but the fire within her was so big that she felt it was not the time to think.

And, unlike his shirt and her grown, his pants and his shoes were careless thrown to a corner of the nest, forgotten for the moment.

They found themselves bared to each other, and without a hint of shame. She had seen him naked once, a long time ago, something almost odd to think about. However, it made seeing him naked again not a problem. He looked painful swollen, and by its redness and how harder and bigger it became by the second, she could tell that he also liked the view of her body.

To Diaval, as expected, nudity had never has been something uncomfortable. He was a wild creature, so human moral problems were not part of his routine. To him, his mate—his love—was indeed beautiful, and if he could ask her to be nude to him every day, he would, so he would cover her body in kisses and caresses, and his eyes, curious to enjoy having her, willing and gorgeous, with him and him alone, would shine in satisfaction.

He just wasn't expecting her sit down on his lap, neither to take him in her hand nor try some timid movements. As he let out a pleasant sigh, she decided to try a stronger grip, making him struggle to contain his grunts. His trembling hands instinctively grabbed her thighs, squeezing them in response to the pleasure of her hand on him as his hips moved involuntarily. The fae would steal kisses from his mouth, as she had always loved to be in control, and to know that her touch caused such pleasure to her beloved was quite satisfactory. She felt him pulse under her fingers, and her grip tightened once more.

Such movements also beget effects on her. Pure warmth and wetness burned between her legs, for to touch him so intimately was pleasurable for her, and her ego swelled—she couldn't stop. She increased her movements, up and down, squeezing and pulling.

Diaval dropped his head to her shoulder, ecstasy cracking the nerves of his exposed skin. She squeezes him and he clenches his teeth, whimpering and begging so pathetically that she took pity on him and stopped her frantic movements.

The raven cupped the back of her neck and captured her lips in a bruising kiss, rough and desperate unlike the sweet raven she had met. He laid her on her back in the nest, a leg by each side of his body. He felt himself harden against her belly, and he lost his breath, breaking the kiss, anticipating the unbearable pleasure that was to come.

Still, he feared, "I...I don't want to hurt you."

Brushing her lips over his face, Maleficent whispered, "You could never hurt me."

Fully aware to the explicit trust in her voice, Diaval kissed her mouth lovingly, a brief prelude to the following actions. Resting one hand on her hip, his lips never leaving hers, he guided himself into her.

There was no pain, only a brief discomfort, as the wetness of her centre made of the act something immensely easy. Within seconds he was fully inside, pulsing, feeling her adjusting to his size and hardness.

Diaval had clamped his hands on the large branch that formed the base of the nest, squeezing so tightly that his knuckles became white by the lack of running blood. He was trembling, greeting his teeth—he was going mad. The flesh of her was incredibly hot and capable of taking savage growls from his throat. To savour such sensations brought through sweat, saliva, blood and passion was an extraordinary blissful thing. To be literally surrounded by her, buried in her irresistible heat and wetness, burning and clasping around him, was the purest sense of pleasure and ecstasy of his life, able to make him soar.

But he wouldn't move an inch, as he wasn't sure if his mate was overwhelmed by the same pleasure he was. So he just waited, and although he was having trouble to breath, he kept his eyes opened, always attentive to his mate's needs and any unwanted reactions. Her eyes were tightly closed, lips parted, breathing hard and fast, sweat dropping down her skin. Diaval rested on his elbows so he could nuzzle hair, pulling it away from her face so she would feel more comfortable.

The act didn't go unnoticed by her, who smiled the best she could.

"...go on."

His eyes were on hers, "Are...are you sure?"

The response the inevitable first movement of her hips, and then a hiss and a gasp, a curse if both knew how. Immediately, Diaval pulled away, and Maleficent almost found enough coherence to voice a complain, choosing instead to wrap a leg around his mid section. Now, by the time she had him sliding him deeper in, the fae was sucking on his neck, venturous fingers travelling through his hair. She wanted to leave marks, so everybody would see that he belonged to her.

Diaval followed her guidance, grunting as his own hips now couldn't stop if he wanted, of so hurried and desperate to feel. His hands rested by the nest, using the leverage as the support he needed in the moment, setting a more comfortable rhythm for both. Her hands travelled from his shoulders to down his back and below, to rest on his backside in the attempt to pull him even closer.

Lust marking their faces, their movements becoming rough as shocking waves of bright pleasure rocked over her senses.

In addition to the sound of their heavy breathing, the beating of their hearts could also be heard. It was strong and powerful. There was no more beautiful sound in the world. Two hearts beating, showing their love for each other.

If there were kisses, they were sloppy and languid and then short, till he had his head buried on her neck, biting and marking.

She would moan and hiss—then cup his face and bring his lips to hers. Then ask—look at me—to bring him comfort, and not to miss any moment of his loss of inhibitions. She wanted to see his undoing. His passionate gaze made her feel so beautiful, like just this—skin gleaming, lips parted, a sense of desperation drunk in lust clouding their senses in a way she never knew possible, and it served as an aphrodisiac to witness it.

"...look at me."

And he would obey, forcing himself to fix his attention of her eyes.

So this was passion—a strength of no precedents. She knew now, she felt, the power of being connected to the man she loved, so sublime and pure. And she gave reason to other creatures who spoke so well of such an act, for it was the most intimate thing she could share with someone—not only the physical part, but also the emotional part, of loving someone so much as to allow him to touch her, to feel her body, to be inside her, heavens, how could anything be so good? Outlining her mate's chest, Maleficent found perfection. In the gloom, she saw scars, sweaty muscles—her raven, her man, her mate. She had a mate at last, she wasn't alone any more, and it brought her immense pleasure and even tears of joy. She let her hands explore his white skin, hearing him grunting quietly just feel her beneath him, to have himself inside her for the first time.

And Diaval watched her, in love with her beautiful wings, arching amid the bliss. He loved her so much, and it seemed surreal to be finally able to touch her. He pushed his hips against hers faster and harder, and her breath twitched. She began to moan openly, her voice echoing through the silence of the nest, but her eyes would never leave his—afraid it might be a dream.

The raven man blocked his senses in a blazing noise and moved his hips eagerly. His arms held her closer, laying her against him as his lips once again fell to her breasts. Nibbling the skin right over her pounding heart, Diaval aggravated his thrusts violently. Maleficent arched her back in amidst the climax, claws digging into his back and a silenced end broke through her moans. A powerful energy echoed through them both and they fell, spent, swallow breaths echoing.

"My love," Diaval prompted himself on his elbows, careful not to crush his mate with the weight of his body, and would kiss the marks left on her neck lazily. He could never imagine that such a strange act could bring such a sense of satisfaction, pleasure, and even peace. The happiness of uniting your soul to the one you love. "My love...are you well?"

However, Maleficent didn't even seem to be able to speak just yet, despite her laugh meant that no discomfort would suit her current status. She murmured an ineligible statement, way too relaxed and content to consider thinking of any of word.

But oh, her happiness was contagious, "My love?"

And then he looked at her, and then opened her eyes, and it was easily the most beautiful sight he'd ever witnessed in his life. A beloved fae lying beneath him, her skin flushed with the afterglow and filled with purple marks and the brand of his teeth, her hair dishevelled while all but a few locks were attached to her sweaty forehead, her lips still redder than roses, as tempting as berries, and her eyes, made of the purest green, shining and expressing more than a thousand poems could try.

"...are you, dearest?" was her whisper—a jest within a smile. They kissed for a time that is not even relevant, hands exploring their sated and inevitably tired bodies, and occasionally they moved and groaned together, later laughing at the lack of experience in such a new situation.

Both gasped as their bodies finally parted, and rested side by side, facing each other. Maleficent knew she'd be a little sore in the morning, and non-existent was her concern. She wasn't leaving that nest so soon. It was not time to worry about the fact that her legs were so lazy they didn't obey her.

"...tired?" Maleficent sighed contently while Diaval ran a tentative hand over her side, "Does...does it hurt?"

The fae caressed his face, "I promised I would tell you."

Diaval nodded twice, "Can I, uh, can I do anything?"

Maleficent smiled, "Hold me."

The raven man laid on his back and the fae snuggled into him, falling into a sleep that she prayed to the gods to be quiet and without wishes of things she couldn't have.

And just as those three little faes came to her mind, they left, and the rain that came later were her tears, and as the embrace of her beloved, it brought her relief.

Let the wind carry her afflictions.

For now on, whatever she was fine into believing this was just a set of tricks of her mind, she was sure it had been the happiest of them.

---

Maleficent woke to the sound of thunders and the smell of bread. She opened her eyes and found herself in her nest, and the blankets covering her naked body felt so soft and so cosy that it took her several minutes to return to full consciousness.

A ranging storm poured outside, lightning crossing the clouds and wind hitting the curtains of the nest. Still, there was warmth around her.

She shifted and spot the place her side lacked a very important presence.

Oh.

She sat up on an impulse that resulted on a wince from her part when she confirmed that yes, her legs were weak and maybe muscles she didn't know she possessed were sore.

She laid back down and her wings hugged her, making her sigh. She felt sleepy and tired, though she knew she had never slept better.

Precisely because she wasn't alone.

"Diaval?"

Turning on her side, she was quick to find her mate's figure. Relief left her in the form of a long sigh, and there was no shame or shyness on her part as she rejoiced in pausing to study him closely. He wore nothing but a pair of pants, and Maleficent took pride as she noticed the several claw marks spreading all over his back. He seemed to be fixing something near the fireplace, which was still lit and warm.

"What are you doing?" She finally asked.

The raven man turned to reveal that pretty basket on his hands—their meal.

Maleficent felt a fond smile take place on her lips. The nest was safe and warm, and it carried a sense of an old routine and new domesticity and intimacy between the two of them that neither would ever tire of.

"I figured we needed some food." Diaval abandoned his place by the fireplace and approached his mate, "Good morning." He laid down next to her and leaned in for a kiss. "Or good evening, for the matter. We've been out for a day and a few hours. The sun had just set when I woke up. Then, it started raining. It is quite welcome, though. Spring this year is as warm as a summer. I think I might need a bath."

A wicked idea flashed a wave of heat down her body, making her voice a bit husky when she proposed, "We could take one by the lake."

And Diaval, totally unaware of his mate's second intentions, agreed cheerfully, "Good. But first we eat, mist—Maleficent." He corrected himself quickly as his mate a raised an eyebrow at him. "Maleficent." He repeated and kissed her again.

The fae welcome his touches, sneaking her hands around his neck, purposely trying to make him fall back against her. It worked, as Diaval couldn't resist her charms, and the pretty basket was forgotten for the moment.

"I adore that I can touch you like this." Diaval sounded so content. He rested his head to her heart, listening. "Did you sleep well?"

He had asked this overtime, and she would always lie and say she was fine when in fact she wanted to cry. There were times in which she woke up crying, there were times her tears gave place to screams, then insults, slaps driven by desperation.

No matter what, Diaval was there to hold her.

It felt oddly lovely not to need to lie this time.

Fine wouldn't do though.

Amazing, yes.

It was the best night of her life.

"No nightmares." She assured him.

Diaval shifted his head back, nuzzling her cheek, "You promise?" The fae smiled as she nodded, "Do you have any...any pain? Any complains or..." His skin turned bright red as he added, "...any s-suggestions?"

Oh?

"You didn't do anything I wasn't comfortable with, Diaval."

"You're covered with marks." He blurted out and his eyes automatically drifted to her uncovered chest, holding for longer seconds that made Maleficent feel powerful and beautiful.

She suggestively traced down the marks left on her neck and collarbone, amusing herself as her mate's eyes followed her movements, "I don't mind a few marks."

He was still staring at her chest, "But there are too many."

"Is that a problem?"

Diaval swallowed, "Well, I...that is...it is..."

Maleficent wanted to laugh, "Why so shy now, dearest? You did those marks."

Diaval broke his gaze to her face, "And I don't know why."

Oh, didn't he? "Lovemaking is meant to be passionate."

The raven man held a curious twinkle in his gaze, "Lovemaking? Is that how fairies call it?"

"Humans do it as well."

"Oh." His head tilted a little, so innocent and willing, "I like this term. It is accurate."

And when Maleficent realized, she was grinning so openly her cheeks would soon start to ache, "It is."

Then, Diaval frowned, his brain never stopping storming, "But what if I want to make more marks? What if I make too many marks and others see them?"

Now Maleficent laughed, and she leaned in more closely so she would feel his breath on her face, "...let them see."

Diaval was silent, as if trying to understand. His eyes winded as he concluded, "You...you want people to see them?" Her smirk made him snort, "And here I thought I was being possessive."

"I never denied I was." She was touching the claw marks spread over her mate's shoulders, "Do you mind?"

He was too quick to admit, "I don't think I'll ever stop wanting to mark you."

Maleficent allowed herself another laugh before stealing a quick kiss and sitting on the nest, not caring if Diaval was watching how the covers would slip from her body and reveal her nakedness. She lazily stretched her limbs and sore muscles, unsure if she had the strength to move her legs. What she knew was that she was hungry indeed, and didn't bother to put on her robes before she grabbed the pretty basket that has been her gift and started looking for something to eat.

As to Diaval, well, there was nothing but the vision of his mate. Maleficent realized that he looked as fascinated as when he first saw her this way. She was not embarrassed but proud to have such effect on him.

Smirking, she said, "You're drooling, birdie."

Diaval brought a hand to his mouth as quickly, and once he realized he was being mocked by his mate, he exclaimed, "You're teasing me now." He grabbed her by the waist and they both fell in the nest again, and the fae's laughter was muffled by her mate's kissing and touching.

"This feels like a dream." Diaval's voice was so dreamy that it made Maleficent's heart ache in happiness. "Last night certainly felt like one, yes."

That made the fae pull away, and smirk as Diaval chased after her lips.

"You..." a peck on her lips travelled down to her neck, and she sighed before continuing, "...you dreamed of this before?"

Diaval ceased with his kisses, unsure, and blushed modestly as he confessed, "A few times?"

Too many times.

"Does that bother you?"

Not at all.

"I'm curious about what you might do to me in those dreams."

Diaval frowned, actually trying to remember, "Nothing different from what we did. I mean, there was kissing. I like kissing. Kissing you, that is."

"I've exceeded your expectations then?" The fae teased.

"Pretty much so, yes."

Maleficent proposed a daring smirk that made him swallow, "Show me how much."

And the raven man couldn't deny his mate anything, could he?

"Anything for you."

---

"May I ask something?"

Maleficent was leaning lazily against her mate, who laughed lightly at the carefree way she was porting.

Hours after the rain had passed, the fae and the raven man flew to a discreet part of the lake, beneath a large weeping willow whose leaves touched the waters, and there they bathed and lost themselves to passion and the discovery of new and wonderful sensations.

As expected, other creatures were smart enough not to disturb them—not only out of fear at Maleficent's reaction, but also at Diaval's reaction, as everyone knew of the power within him and how dragons could be unpredictable.

Maleficent was grateful for the privacy, whether or not her people allowed such luxury out of fear and not out of affection.

But all the affection she needed was given by a creature who just loved worshipping her body.

Later, a new stream of water flowed through the woods and all living creatures retreated to their homes.

Maleficent quietly listened to the sound of the water drops hitting the ceiling, and sighed as a sense of cozy warmth surrounded her, sometimes feeling shivers in response to the fingers preening the feathers of her wings.

"Done." Diaval kissed her shoulder, having finished his work.

Maleficent spread out her wings, flapping them lightly to get rid of any loose feathers. It was amazing how they grew lighter every time Diaval touched them. She loved it when he did it, and she was very relaxed before so much attention and affection.

Of course, the fact that she had been lost in passion for hours also helped in her tiredness.

But it was the most delicious fatigue of her life.

She laid her head on her mate's chest, hugging him close.

And as she gave him no sign of response to his question, Diaval had to check if she was still awake. "My love?"

"I'm listening." She mumbled sleepily, cuddling into his neck.

"Are you?" A kiss against his pulsing point made Diaval smile openly, "Well, if that's the case, then..." He pursed his lips in thought, resting his chin against her forehead, being quite mindful of her horns, "...can you tell me why?"

Maleficent's voice was low and soft due her tiredness and absolute state of peace, "...why what, dearest?"

Diaval nuzzled her hair, "Why choose me? You could've chosen anyone as your mate, but you chose me."

His clear insecurity made Maleficent wide awake, and she rested her chin on his chest she would look up at him, "I couldn't just chose anyone."

Diaval disagreed, "Mistress, you're the most beautiful creature in the Moors. Surely—" He was stopped when he noticed the light frown on his mate's brow, and it took little time for him to realize his mistake, "Maleficent." He spoke then, bringing a small smile to his mate's lips, "You're beautiful, Maleficent." His fingers traced her features as he spoke, "I don't see why someone wouldn't—"

"The Moor folk chose their mates by their beauty and for their availability to bear young."

"So do ravens."

That made her curious.

"Is that why?"

He blinked, "Why what?"

"Why you chose me." She rephrased. "Because of how I look."

It couldn't be because of her availability to bear young, since there was none.

Plus, she knew how good she looked. Many creatures hated her for it.

"You fascinated me from the first moment." Diaval confessed. "You were mysterious and dangerous. I was captivated..." His eyes were lost in hers, in the ever so alive green and so sincere and full of a love that made him so happy, "...I still am."

Now her gaze became gentle, "When did you know?"

Diaval didn't even think to answer, "I have knew, somehow. But certainty came when I first saw your wings."

The fae wished to say she was surprised, "My wings?" She was smiling though, so was her amusement.

But her mate was never subtle on his fascination toward her wings, "They're beautiful, what can I say? I've never seen quite a pair. I love them too."

And it warmed her heart to see how much.

"Not that if you didn't have them I wouldn't love you, I mean, they helped me realizing it. It took me years, but then I started to see you, the real you." He brought a hand to her face, caressing the well defined line of her jaw, "Not the evil fae who wanted revenge on the king, but the fae who had her wings stolen and found on evil her way of dealing with the pain."

Maleficent felt her lips tremble at the statement. She had to argue, "It doesn't justify my actions."

But Diaval insisted, "You proved them all wrong—humans and creature alike. I witnessed how you watched over Aurora, how your hate turned into love, how you even protected those who feared you, even knowing there was nothing you could do to have their love."

"I never ceased to be their Guardian, Diaval. They weren't the ones who hurt me."

He begged to differ, "Excluding you from their festivities did hurt you."

"There was no right in me to be part of those festivities."

"Just because you're different doesn't mean no one would chose you."

True, but not entirely.

"Did anyone?"

No one did.

"It's not fair to be denied love just because you're different."

"It's how nature has been ruled since the beginning—and it shall go this way forever." Sure, she wouldn't lie—she tried to make her people accept her, at all costs, she tried to prove that she deserved an opportunity, but it was all in vain. Reality was cruel because it couldn't be changed, and Maleficent learned that the hard way. "You cannot change how the world works, Diaval." She said to note the expression of irritation on her mate's face.

"I can still defy them." He tightened his arms around her in a determinate and possessive embrace, "You're my mate and I dare anyone to question my decision."

Maleficent felt her chest tightening. His pride on having her by his side left her a little breathless, "It won't always be as simple." She said in a soft whisper.

Diaval dropped a kiss to where one of her horns sprout out of her head, "Was it ever to us?"

Fair point.

"You didn't answer my question though." She heard him mumble against her hair, while combing a few locks with his fingers, "Why me?"

To Maleficent, it was easy, really.

"You're my wings." She caressed his face, his scars, searching for all the love she could feel burning, and finding so much more, "You make me feel safe." even though she knew that she would always have much more power than him, "I trust you." how many times did they share the nest, and could he had taken advantage of her vulnerable state, just like Stefan once did, to attack her and be free? But her raven had honour and he always respected her. "I know you wouldn't hurt me." At last, she smiled, "And Aurora loves you."

And Diaval almost burst into tears, the sense of privilege that surrounded him being so great. He felt so loved.

"Well, that's...that's..."

"Not what you expected?"

"Much more than I deserve." Diaval completed, and now his mate's eyes were filled with tears. For there was so much truth in his voice that the walls around her heart melted away as a sand castle hit by waves. "I...seems so unbelievable. You feel the same way! I...I have dreamed of you—ofthis, so many times that..."

And the fae lined his lips kindly, hushing his words, "I wouldn't be here if I didn't feel the same, would I?"

And Diaval broken into a huge smile, crashing his lips with hers, tearing a small laugh from her throat.

Then, he pulled away, and his mate watched fondly as the adorable crinkle on his brow was back—"You said the Moors takes beauty into consideration for a mate?" Maleficent was silent, a sign for him to go on, "So you're saying that...my beautiful self helped on your decision?"

The fae pressed her lips together to prevent a laugh, "I suppose so."

"You suppose?" He brought a hand to his own chest in a feigned dramatization, "My heart is wounded. I shall never recover from this attack."

And Maleficent let herself laugh at her mate's playfulness, loving every moment, "Your eyes remind me of the night sky." She explained, and Diaval closed his eyes as he felt two hands touch his face, "They are beautiful to me." She kissed his temples, "I love you, Diaval. I may not be good at showing it, but I do love you. For what you've done to me, for who you are, and for how much you can make me feel."

Oh, but now his smile was contagious.

"I can only adore you, my love."

She knew that now. She really did.

"Good."

Outside, a lighting crossed the skies as a consequence.

"It appears we won't be able to leave the nest so soon." Diaval then let out a frustrated sigh, "You noticed how they wouldn't bother us by the lake, yes? I do hope they leave us alone from now on. If I hear any complaining again, I might consider turning into a dragon. That's a promise." He heard a small chuckle and squeezed his mate's side in a playful rebuke, feeling her smirk against his neck, "Unless that's you? Your feelings reflect on the weather, yes? And rain..." His face fell. "Is rain a bad sign?"

Maleficent smiled at his line of reasoning, "It did help on cooling the heat."

The raven man turned red, "Well, that...you won't let go of me means you like my heat, right?"

The fae smiled only, sighing of so happy.

"On that day then...when you left to the lake...the rain was because you had a bad dream?"

Ah.

"Not a nightmare."

Diaval frowned, "Memories then?"

"Just dreams."

The frown was dissolved into surprise and worry, "...good dreams that make you cry?"

Maleficent contemplated her would to be answer for a long period of time. She knew she would have to tell Diaval of her dreams sooner or later. He was her mate. It was unthinkable on her part to keep any secrets from him. Still, she was unsure if it was better to keep such dreams untouched. It was not that she didn't want to share her burdens. It was so liberating to have someone willing to listen to her. At the same time, it seemed selfish and cruel. Diaval was an empathetic creature. He literally lived the pain of those he loved. And Maleficent would never inflict on him any kind of suffering, even if it meant appeasing her own.

Which made her feel that old tightness on her chest, the longing and wanting for something so pure she would never have. It would always be there. And she knew that the more she fought it, the more it hurt. To accept her fate was painful on different stages of coping. Hope itself was painful due the enormous risk of disappointment. Wishing for something you could not have was an innocent sentiment. And it hurt a lot.

But it would hurt more to live a lie.

Looking at Diaval and Aurora was to face a future filled with love—so forbidden for so many years.

Yet it would lack the beautiful moment any creature could have by the end of the summer and it broke her heart to realize that Diaval would have to accept there was a special place in their next place that would always be empty.

It was difficult for her to understand that he knew what he was doing—that he was aware of the risks of choosing her as a mate, that he knew of the sacrifices he would have to make, that he understood the pain there was to come when you acknowledge that no offspring would come from you.

Maleficent was used to such sad truth—it was a lifelong enemy she had learned to deal with, no matter how it shattered her insides, drawing the air from her lungs—it was stifling at how helpless it made her feel. Diaval would be new to all this, and although he seemed ready to face it, did it really make a difference?

He wouldn't leave her, neither would Maleficent leave him. She also didn't doubt on his word—they would face the future together. But she couldn't help feeling inevitably guilty for wanting to share her burdens with him.

The way he smiled at her, however, made her so safe. It made her believe. Because, along Aurora, she was the cause of his happiness as he was the cause of hers, and although she would give anything to have Anton, Izaak andLor here as well, she felt they wouldn't be happy if their mother wasn't.

To honour the dream of their memory, she would try and smile and speak.

Out of love, she accepted: life was not everything she wished it could be—definitely not everything it could be—but she could find happiness if she tried.

"Empty corner by your right. Closer to the fireplace."

Diaval's gaze found the spot, and he nodded, saying nothing.

His mate took a deep breathe, and prolonged her response for a moment before she pulled out oh his embrace to lie down on her back.

"That's where they...were supposed to sleep...was I not an...was I not...was I not different from the others."

She felt Diaval tense, moving to lie on his side and face his mate. But she refused to look at him, and she kept staring at the ceiling. Her voice hitched as a hand rested on her womb, fingers moving in caresses that eased the anguish even for a moment.

A silent request was made, and she covered his hand with hers, holding it there on her womb, knowing full well that her eyes were already burning with the tears now falling on the sides of her face.

Maleficent forced herself to continue, "I called them Anton, Izaak and Lor."

Diaval tilted his head to the side, a sign that he was trying to find memories in such names. His eyes went from confused to startled, widening as the answer came to his mind.

"My love..."

Maleficent's smile was as painful as her lament, "They are a memory. A projection of...of a wish." And she cannot not remember them, her little boys, and her heart shattered. But how could she miss those she never really had? Her magic disagreed vehemently, creating bonds that she did not know if she would be able to let go. "They aren't real." A sad chuckle was inevitable—she had to remind herself, hadn't she? "But faires and faes are known to be quite creative and..." That made her taste her own tears, while her voice would falter at the memory of her sons, "We can create memories. Dreams of realities." and her eyes would burn so painfully she was not able to keep them open. "I dreamed of them on that day, and on the night before, which is why I...left you. Spring brings out those feelings from me. I won't be having them anymore, I don't think, I—I'm sorry." She opened her eyes, "This is my burden, a flaw I can't change and—"

The feeling of gentle lips capturing cut her off in mid sentence, and she allowed herself to be lost in the midst of passion as her only means of consolation. She brought her mate to rest on top of her, sighing at the contact against bare skin. She loved to feel his weight, his presence, his scent, his warmth.

He was the realism she needed to move on.

"They must've been as beautiful as their mother."

Words from a man who loved her so much, and who was now crying over her pain, and Maleficent could only cry more.

"I'm sorry—"

"No, don't be." He begged, and his voice broke, "Have you any idea, I...I feel so honoured to be the one you chose to have little hatchlings with."

And Maleficent grieved, "—but they aren't real and...there is nothing I can do to change that."

And Diaval cried. Because if he could give up on his wings so his mate would have her dreams come true, he would do it in a heartbeat.

"Never apologise for loving someone." And he professed something once not acknowledged by her fearful heart, "I won't apologise for loving you. For lovingthem."

She was in denial, "They're aren't real."

"They are real enough to be loved by your heart." He said, and grabbed her hand, placing over his chest, smile tearful and sad, "And so they are to be loved by mine."

Maleficent's eyes were shining, the comfort brought by the incessant sound of his heart beating against hers being better than everything she had ever dreamed of.

The why was on the truth that has been always there—the warmth of her raven, and the innocent eyes of her little beastie shining like the most beautiful stones against the sunlight, meant the world to her. The affection shown by their actions brought more and more tears to her own.

Because she was loved like any hybrid wasn't supposed to be.

It was overwhelming as it was scaring.

How can she not be happy about that?

Her little ones weren't real. But her love for them was. And so she would hold them in her heart and smile at what could've been a lovely memory.

"Thank you." The fae rested her forehead against her beloved's, both closing their eyes in contemplation—shared pain and mutual love, "Thank you."

And no words were needed after that, for home was no longer a foreign term, neither love a concept.

Both were real.

Beautiful—as fairy tales say.

---

A/N: Thank you all for reading! You have no idea how much it means to me! Anyway, I'm writing a sequel, which takes place a year after this fic. Wish me luck! See ya!