Each step elicited a soft moist noise as their feet encountered stones on their path through the forest, leaves rustled when they passed waving their blackened forms. The eggplant purple and the fire orange coating the clouds lacked shades his bird vision would have captured, ones his human form deprived him of.
Diaval lowered his gaze from the skies and glanced at the creature bathed in darkness walking before him. His mistress' silence not uncommon, yet a sensation in the back of his mind warned him there was more to it. Hands behind his back, the raven considered his options while praying she'd speak or that they'd reach the nest. A thought crossed his mind, causing him to frown and his lips to part.
The creases on his forehead deepened when she deviated from their path, toward Dark Pond. The servant rushed his steps to reach his mistress, gaze searching her stone features. Questions ready to slip from his mouth.
"Stop worrying," she said.
His mouth snapped shut, his confusion growing.
"We are not visiting Dark Pond," she said, staff touching the ground in tandem with her steps.
He swallowed. "Mistress?"
Silent, she guided him to a shallow cave, its mouth gaping at them. "There's something I require from you." She spun to him, halting his entrance to the cave, earning shifting questioning eyes upon her.
Diaval held her gaze. Fabric rustled and, in a moment, the midnight piece had left her bare, pure porcelain flesh exposed to the moonlight.
His breath caught, he swallowed and refused to avert his attention from her features. "Mistress?"
"Undress," she said. "And you may look."
Human instinct alone had kept him from it. Once allowed, he indulged in his innate curiosity. The raven found curves and softness, flesh which had his fingers caressing his palms to refrain from touching. From the curve of her neck, down to her breasts, to the slight fur between her thighs, to her calves, every inch of her intriguing, rousing questions he needed permission to answer.
Blinking, Diaval followed her command, releasing the laces of his clothes, and riding himself off each piece.
Maleficent stepped forward, gaze wandering down his figure. She touched the side of his neck, thumb brushing his jaw. "What I need from you, bird, is touch."
He found her gaze, swallowed, then nodded fast. "Of course." He paused, frowning before tipping his head. "How would you like it, Mistress? And where?"
Her finger touched his bottom lip. "As you prefer. I'll guide you through it if necessary," she said. "Trust this form's instincts, Diaval."
Birds are visual creatures, ravens aren't innocent. A raven that lived as long as he did even less so.
Diaval nodded, then followed with his gaze the wandering of his hand. The porcelain flesh of her hips interested him, the shape of her figure an intriguing sight to be explored. He welcomed its softness beneath his palm and traced inch by inch up to the underside of her breasts. While he understood how mammals worked, the vision intrigued him, and the raven went on, discovering skin with his touch.
The soft sigh he caught escaping her mouth gave him pause and, curious, Diaval repeated his motions and found the faces of his mistress stained with color. Blush spread over her cheeks, making her close her eyes and released soft noises he didn't recognize but appreciated.
"You might want to lie down, Mistress." His voice disturbed the peace and he almost flinched upon hearing it. Her eyes snapped open and an emotion flashed on her features before she nodded.
Maleficent laid on the stone ground of the cave and watched as her familiar mirrored her actions. A sigh left her as he returned his touch to her body.
"You're beautiful, Mistress. Beautiful like the moon is beautiful," he muttered, refusing to meet her eyes, how she glared before she softened and swallowed.
Diaval traced her figure with the back of his fingers, exploring further and biding his time as he watched the tension leave her form wherever his touch passed.
"Very beautiful," he said under his breath.
Drawing his body to cover hers, the raven pecked her collarbone.
"Magnificent," he whispered, nuzzling her neck, then her cheek in a manner that had once annoyed her. His mistress would refuse any of his attention when wounded, to have her bare beneath him and not fighting him spoke volumes of the need she was presenting him with.
Diaval loved the creature laying with him in the magical forest, loved her more than his own life. He'd sacrifice his life for her and Aurora, their little fledgling, without missing a beat. If Maleficent needed his touch and tenderness for a single night, he'd give her without hesitation.
His lips brushed her ear. "You're worthy of love, Maleficent."
Her hand snapped to his throat, she squeezed his windpipe, nails digging into his flesh. Chartreuse orbs found his, shamrock green flashing on her irises. "Watch your mouth."
The raven held her gaze, doing his best to inhale, he moved to kiss her cheek. "You don't have to believe it… to be true," he strained to say. "And I'm not… Not afraid of you."
Her grip weakened, and the fae didn't resist when he nuzzled her cheek and planted kisses down her throat. She closed her eyes and refused to acknowledge a tear escaping her. "On with it, bird."
Tender caresses tracing her form, the mistress of evil fought nothing of her responses to him. Goosebumps broke on her skin, the need implied by the arching of her body toward him.
Diaval captured fear by the neck and drove it away with patient touches and soft lips. His mistress' form pliant beneath him when he guided her legs open. He took her mouth, stealing kisses she could have denied him in different circumstances. He broke them apart, touched his forehead to hers. "You owe me nothing, my queen. What you have now is yours to take."
Maleficent arched when he entered her, whimpering her need, her hips moving against his, eager for further stimulation.
With her back to wet stone, open and vulnerable to her raven, the queen savored a rare flavor for her: vulnerability, her own. She ignored the stumps where her wings had been when they brushed the floor, holding on to her bird as he drove waves of pleasure into her, muttering his safety away in sweet words at her ear.
How much love did it take to expose himself to her whims? Every sweet declaration could end him, she could snap and decide he had crossed the line. Was he this confident in his charms? Had he so little love for life? Did he love her that much?
Maleficent moaned at his ear, hissed a curse under her breath, earning a tight hold at her hip and harder strokes from her companion. His panting and groaning at her ear a melody to haunt her dreams, she basked in his pleasure, wrapping her legs around his hips, eager for him to never leave.
She wasn't fragile or helpless, but the cage of his arms around her reminded her of her wings surrounding her in a protective nest.
Her nails stabbed his behind, a smile breaking at his pounding, a litany of muttered 'yes' leaving her mouth. Wicked bird knew how to fuck and, with her free hand reaching for his scalp, she savored it, leaving trails of her teeth on his neck.
A groan broke out when she came, holding on to him tight, welcoming the easing thrusts but continuous rhythm of his hips.
"Come," she muttered with her eyes still closed. "Come, come, come, bird."
He moved, burying his face in her neck, releasing soft pants and constrained grunts before spilling into her, his pace faltering in a delicious manner.
The queen smirked when he weighed on her, a sense of possessiveness washing over her, refusing to let go of him.
Maleficent kept her eyes closed, savored every second of the stillness of the aftermath. Once they left, her walls would rise and reality would return even if cracked. She might appreciate him a bit further. However, there was still much to do and she still remembered what caused her to have stumps instead of wings, she refused to be fooled again. Even if Diaval seemed the kindest creature to exist.
The moment she let go of him, she'd need herself back, the version of her Stefan had forged.
Tension returned to her shoulders as she remembered the castle with its iron walls sitting in the distance. She released Diaval and, even if she didn't rush him to get away, as soon as she stood and put her dress back on, they both knew to not discuss what had happened.
Obedient as he was, Diaval said no word of it. And neither did she.