Work Text:
FIRST OF ITS KIND
Aurora leaned forward, stretching as far as she could over the balcony. She let the chill air washed over her and breathed in, letting it fill her lungs. She couldn’t smell mud or flowers, nothing reminded her of the moors, but she stubbornly pushed the thought back, not allowing herself to feel nostalgic just yet.
Only six months had passed since the wedding and only few days later, Maleficent had gone to her kins to reconnect with her true nature for a while – she would be back soon, so she’d promised, and since that day, Aurora had done nothing but wait for her to come back, to bring some of the old Aurora with her, the free girl who run barefoot on the grass and laughed and played in the water and in the air with the only friend she had. She missed holding to Maleficent as she soared with Aurora on her back, she missed the sunsets over the moors and the dawns they watched together, year after year.
Those few days after the wedding had been blissful, the happiest of her life, but then Maleficent had left and she had felt incomplete ever since. The happiness abating each day, replaced with tiredness and the deepest sense of nostalgia, only slightly alleviated by the thought of her homecoming, sooner or later.
Being with Philip meant keeping the peace. It was all she wanted, but somehow, as time passed, it all lost meaning. Because what was the purpose of it, when she couldn’t even protect directly the one she wished to keep safe?
She closed her eyes, feeling suddenly dizzy. Fool, Maleficent had warned about it and, surprisingly, Ingrith too: the duties and the responsibilities would have the best of her and overwhelm her. She needed to focus on the goal, not letting the distractions grip her mind. But it was so difficult – so difficult when Maleficent wasn’t near to guide her and comfort her through the night. Her husband didn’t suffice. She found that out too late, perhaps.
He was kind and easy to love, but was she in love with him? Aurora felt guilty for that thought, unworthy of such companion when she had so many doubts and fears.
She squeezed her eyes tight, struggling so much to put order into her many thoughts. Why everything had to be so difficult without Maleficent around?
Aurora flinched and pulled back when a gush of wind, powerful like a blast wave, hit her square in her chest, making her stumble backward; she flattened herself on the white wall behind her, forcing her eyes to open despite the bothering gushing air. She knew that powerful stroke, she knew to whom it belong and her heart leaped in response. Aurora blinked, and through the narrow crack of her lids, she thought she saw the glorious shape of Maleficent soaring in front of her.
She was back, finally she was back! She beamed, far too soon, for when the wind ceased and her eyes could finally open and watch freely, she noticed that it wasn’t Maleficent, but Borra, looking down at her with his stoic expression deformed into a worried grimace.
Aurora’s heart dropped instantly. It took her just an instant to realize that something was terribly wrong.
“Borra?” She greeted, her voice urging to explain the reason of his presence.
The winged creature soared closer to the girl, his brow furrowed as if he was about to say something that was supposed to kept hidden. He swallowed and flapped again his wings, this time without creating any air movement.
“It’s Maleficent, my Queen: she’s very ill.” He said dimly without any introduction, his voice extremely grave.
Aurora felt scared. Roots of fear gripping her soul as she tried to read more from the creature’s face. She’d heard him talking passionately about wars and loss, but never once he’d shown any signs of worry – now, now his inquietude was making her dizzy.
“Take me to her.” Aurora ordered and, without thinking twice, she lifted her skirts and climbed on the balcony. She didn’t have time to warn Philip, she couldn’t wait an instant more – did she even care to warn her husband? That was something to think of.
Borra promptly offered her his back and once she had latched to his neck with her arms, he took off, soared to the clouds, so fast that Aurora’s breath broke. It would have been so wonderful to fly over the sea like that, the salty water tingling her nostrils and filling her lungs, but only if she was on Maleficent’s back and not about to go to her because she was ill – and what caused it? She didn’t even ask. The fear of the unknown was devouring her.
Aurora didn’t really knew how much time it had passed. It could’ve been minutes, or hours or even days, but she thought that the confusion, for a non-winged creature like them, was some sort of defensive mechanism against whoever attempted to try ruin their peace.
The girl gasped as soon as her eyes spotted the cocoon-like island floating in mid-air, enormous, with pikes of green grass and caves all over, tunnels of white magic that connected trees and layers of rock that served as floors. It was like a small entire world of their own.
When Borra landed on the wider crease in the rock, Aurora felt dizzy and stumbled backwards. There were hundreds like them, fully grown adult with colourful wings and children tripping over their own wings, still unable to fly on their own. No wonder Maleficent had chosen to leave the kingdom for a while.
“Just know,” Borra warned. “that you’re the first human who sets foot here.”
Aurora slightly nodded. It was truly a privilege and any other time she would show her deepest gratitude, but her heart and mind were elsewhere.
“You won’t regret it, I promise.” The girl hurriedly assured. “But please, now take me to her.”
Aurora had been in her nest above the Rowan tree countless of times, and it was astonishing how, despite not being in the moors, they had managed to recreate a similar environment there, a house that reminded Maleficent’s home for many years. Aurora knew exactly where to go, but let Borra lead the way.
She was surprised to find a ladder toward the end, identical to the one that Maleficent had created with branches in the moors, so she could climb up every time she wanted. Borra flew past her, of course, and Aurora was left to wonder why did Maleficent install such a thing into her house if no one else would use it. Maybe she’d planned to invite her? Perhaps she was just feeling homesick, but then why didn’t she come back earlier?
The green and the vivid colours of the moors were replaced with gleaming white all over and every elements created by magic to resemble her old house bore almost the same shade. All that whiteness was starting to give Aurora a faint headache and the stomach constricting in fear for Maleficent’s well-being didn’t help. She didn’t know what to expect; in 21 years Maleficent had never fallen ill. Not once.
Panting slightly for the climbing, she narrowed her eyes and try to look beyond the white strands of fabric-like material that hanged from the upper top of a round hole, serving as a door. Aurora could spot a circular room with nothing inside and, for an instant, panic washed over her.
Then, on the left side, she noticed a brown pile of soft, thin branches braided together with leafs and feathers. On top of that primordial nest, she spotted a familiar wing camouflaging almost perfectly with the nest below.
Aurora braced herself and walked past the white strands, entering the room.
Upon hearing footsteps, Maleficent’s oversensitive ears twitched: she knew those light steps. Despite her strained brain and body, her heart leaped when she saw Aurora standing right in front of her.
“Beastie? What are you doing here?”
Aurora was staring speechless. Maleficent was visibly exhausted, her pallid skin flushed and glistening with sweat, which had caused her loose hair to stick unconformably on her neck and shoulders into a tangled mess. The magic flowing into her green eyes flickered weakly and she was breathing with short, labored wheezes. Her voice had come out strained from her reddish lips and the girl didn’t even have the time to rejoice upon seeing her again, hearing that pet name from her mouth after months.
“Borra was worried.” Aurora swallowed. “And by good reason.”
The male winged-creature threw an apologetic glance to Maleficent, then he averted his eyes and looked Aurora. The girl didn’t have eyes for anyone but Maleficent.
If she had magic, she would have done anything to lessen the suffering she was clearly in. She watched as Maleficent moaned, tossing her head to the side as she was fighting some sudden pain.
The faery gritted her teeth and flashed her fangs as if she was a wounded dog trying to ward off a peril.
“What’s the point of having me as your queen if no one listens to my orders?” She growled.
Aurora stepped closed and knelt beside the nest, her heart dropping further. Was she smelling blood now or was it just her head playing tricks with her? It was bad nonetheless.
“I’m glad they didn’t listen to you, Godmother.”
Maleficent shot her eyes open and her lips pressed together. No pain was comparable to that: the name was heartbreaking, at that moment; but of course, her sweet Aurora couldn’t know. She had no guilt.
The girl looked confused and scared now. She could see herself through her eyes and the sight alarmed her as well. Maleficent could feel and see how lost she was, thrown unexpectedly into a difficult reality where she didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t supposed to be like that – she’d gone away for a reason, after all.
Aurora felt panic washing over her. As she asked Borra to leave them alone, she strived to recollect ideas and think rationally, even if it was the most difficult thing. She’d ruled over the moors, now she was keeping the peace between the two realms, but nothing competed with seeing Maleficent like that and feeling powerless about it. She imagined that Maleficent had refused to tell anyone about her illness until it was too late and now the other winged-creatures had asked for Aurora’s help as their last hope to save the phoenix.
Aurora watched as Maleficent’s body shivered and spasmed against her own will, the faery stubbornly fighting everything for pride or denial, she wasn’t yet sure. The girl sighed. She had to help her, she needed to save her with everything she could and the first step was discovering the source of that condition.
She braced herself and placed her hand over the quivering wings that still wrapped her body like a blanket.
“Where are you hurting?” She asked with a dim voice.
Maleficent stared at her. She didn’t want to tell her. It was too intimate and private. No one had touched nor seen her in years – and yet, someone had to help her; that’s why they summoned Aurora: Maleficent herself knew she wouldn't let anyone else do it. She had to admit that they knew her that much already and now, in particular, she had to be grateful for it: she needed Aurora. She would have never asked her, she would have never called for her – she had decided not to ever see her again –, but now she realized how much she’d missed her Beastie and how much she needed her now, despite everything.
Pushing all the thoughts that could still keep her from revealing her secret, Maleficent turned to one side and slowly peeled away the top wing from her body.
Aurora gasped in astonishment. Maleficent’s belly was swollen and protruding and her thighs were faintly smeared in blood. She had always been slender and the thin clothes she was wearing covered just about her torso and modesty, so her stomach was even more visible to the girl’s unacquainted eyes.
“Are you..?” She began to ask, but she soon found herself unable to complete the sentence. The word too private and foreign in her brain. Aurora was frightened and utterly confused; she knew so very little about procreation and what she did know came from whispers in the corridors of the castle – but that concerned humans. Did faery give birth too? Six months was a reasonable time for a baby to fully form? And for a magical creature? Surely Maleficent couldn't have fallen in such condition any time before her leaving.
Aurora swallowed the lump in her throat and raised her glance over Maleficent, who was staring back with her eyes wide open, filled with tears. There were so many questions she wanted to ask – who did she mate with, why was she crying, why did Maleficent feel the need to keep such a secret? Did she want a child of her own in the first place? They never once talked about it – but none of thoose questions were strong enough to come to her lips, now.
Aurora felt her heart shatter when she saw the faery covering her face with her hands, almost as if she was hiding away from shame. What was really going on? Was there more to discover, or was there something terribly wrong with her pregnancy and Maleficent just needed the comfort of a true friend? She knew so little. Aurora cursed herself for her ignorance on the matter, whether it was for humans or for the moors’ magical creatures.
But she was there, now. The only one Maleficent would let near enough to tend her.
And Aurora couldn’t help but feeling close to that creature about to come to the world. It belonged to their weird, dysfunctional family too. The only thing she had to do was assist Maleficent through the delivery and everything would be fine – right?
For the moment, she just wanted to comfort the faery. Still curled up on her self, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs of despair, Aurora wanted to encourage her and alleviate her fears. She tentatively hovered her hand over her abdomen and, with a gentle stroke, she brushed the tensed skin she found there.
Maleficent flinched at the contact and uncovered her face to watch the girl’s reaction, sure there would be one, strong nonetheless.
In fact, when Aurora felt the roundness with her fingers, she furrowed her brows deeply. Underneath the skin of her belly, the girl could feel only a smooth something – no limbs, no bumps of heads or knees or elbows as the baby adjusted itself for the actual birth. That was wrong. She knew that something was terribly wrong with it and the blood, maybe the blood had been a sign of it – she couldn’t wait a moment more. She needed help. At least one of those old faeries of the clan must have known what to do with it.
Aurora stumbled back, her mouth agape in a silent scream ad she thought of nothing else but calling for someone. Maleficent didn’t say a word and just cocooned her body back with her own wings, teeth grinding as she fought another spasm.
The girl searched blindly behind her and, walking past the white strands, she would’ve fallen down if Borra hadn’t been there to catch her.
“Well?” He asked impatiently.
Aurora gasped many times, her mouth opening and closing without pronouncing a single syllable. Then, out of the blue, she head Maleficent’s guttural moan, which worked as an alarm in her brain – did she ever hear Maleficent complain? It must have been bad.
“She’s pregnant!” The girl blurted out with a shaky voice. Borra loosened his grip around her arms. “But there’s something wrong with the child.” She frowned, shaking her head. “Her belly is like – hard and smooth. I’m no expert but I don’t think it’s supposed to-”
“We suspected.” Borra interrupted. “She never let anyone close and she assured us many times that there was no one in her life – not anymore. So we couldn’t know for sure.”
Aurora took a shaky breath, listening carefully. What was he saying? Was he talking about her own father? Impossible. And why wasn’t he worried about her belly feeling odd compared to the norm?
Borra seemed to guess his thought and hinted a smile.
“All faeries are born from eggs.” He explained.
Aurora gasped again, blood draining from her. Despite being a faery and the last descendant of a mythological bird, it never occurred to her that any of Maleficent younglings could come inside eggs. But then, what was the main problem?
“Then what is it? Aren’t six months enough? Is she losing the egg er– the child?” Aurora asked, rage starting to build. “She is showing – how could you not know?” She spat, but then she couldn’t blame those creatures if they weren’t accustomed to such things. And if that wasn’t the normal way for a faery, then it had to be something wrong.
“She is very private and always dresses in loose, black clothes. Besides, we're not accustomed to such a display of pregnancy.” He justified; Aurora knew he was telling the truth. “By telling us she had no significant other, we couldn’t be sure she was gestating.” Borra whispered, matter-of-factly. “You see, my Queen, for the Phoenix to create life, true love must be involved.”
Aurora was more confused than ever, but the facts were undeniable. If they had no idea who could be Maleficent’s true love, it didn’t belong to the clan and as for someone in the moors – she didn’t know either. It was all a mess, but now the important thing was saving Maleficent. Could she die?
“Is she in danger?” She asked, demanding answers.
“We. don’t. know.” Borra admitted sheepishly. “It’s a first for us too. The birth of a faery is generally a gracious matter: the egg is small, and it’s delivered by magic, so our females don’t hurt, and after the birth, it’s kept somewhere safe where it grows until the hatching. This –” He paused, his ears twitching at another moan. “this doesn’t look like a faery pregnancy, that’s why I called for you.”
“It looks like a human one.” Aurora concluded, nodding ever-so-slightly.
“You’re the only human one we trust, the only one who can help her – the only one she let close enough.” Borra was pleading with his eyes now. “Please, save our Queen.”
Aurora couldn’t help but smile as such a display of loyalty. She would have never thought of seeing Borra pleading and asking favors, not for himself or for others, but the affection for Maleficent and herself was real.
“I’ll do everything in my power to save her.” Aurora promised. She was the first one who’d do anything to save Maleficent, even without an invitation. She needed Aurora and she’d run to her in a blink – once Maleficent had broken her own curse with true love and now it was just the time to return the favor.
She requested fresh water and clean clothes, then asked everyone to free the area. It was sensible to think that Maleficent would feel the need to scream – she often heard women screaming in the village since it was supposed to help with the pain, before presenting their children to court few days after – and knowing her pride Maleficent would have never indulge in such primordial act if she knew someone was listening.
Aurora let her instinct guide her, wishing for Maleficent to instruct her even now just like she always did during difficult times, and not really knowing what to do or how to help her, she started to brush off the sweat from her brow, the other hand hesitantly laying on Maleficent’s side – fingers outstretched toward the small of her back – moving in soothing circles as she tried to soft the muscles there.
“I didn’t want you to see this.” Maleficent moaned, her eyes shut close.
Suddenly, the realization hit Aurora hard in the chest.
“Is that why you left?” She asked with hoarse voice. Maleficent didn’t answer, but Aurora knew it already. “Well, I have come to you – so let me help.”
“You don’t know the first thing about it.” Maleficent pointed out, gritting her teeth when a spasm ran through her body.
“Neither do you.” The girl promptly retorted. “Remember you promised me we’d face everything together.” She said calmly, hinting a smile.
Maleficent’s expression softened at those words. It had such a great meaning and her sweet Aurora hadn’t any idea how it pained to hear them, knowing it could never be real. Everything that had led to that moment had been a mistake – a foolish one.
Yet, there wasn’t time to think of the futures to come, her mind could only focus on the present, for the pain was almost unbearable. Maleficent didn’t know what was happening – she knew of humans going through this, but not faeries. As much shame it brought her, embarrassment and guilt to have pulled her sweet girl in such drama, she had to rely fully on Aurora and her own instinct, which lately had proven clearly fallible.
“I need – I need to –” The girl stammered, struggling so hard to erase the embarrassment that was currently washing over her. She’d never thought of asking Maleficent such things in such an intimate moment – dammit, she had never thought of a moment like this could happen, ever – but now it was happening, inevitable and vitally so. “It’s just us two.” She reminded Maleficent and herself.
How weird it was to act as the strong one now, when Maleficent was in distress and yet, somehow, it felt incredibly natural to just switch places now that she was the one in need of help and support.
“I am sorry, Beastie.” Maleficent murmured in defeat, struggling to lay on her back, her knees still touching to one side. The unnatural position eased the muscles behind, but sent a jolt of pain to her lower regions; the pressure she felt there became truly unbearable and, suddenly, felt the bones on her back aligning and arching all at once and a little tickle in the most hidden part of her brain told her to push.
“Don’t apologize,” Aurora encouraged, sitting by the nest and getting as close as possible to her, right in the middle, so she could keep the damp, fresh cloth on the faery’s brow with one hand while the other rested on her protruding belly. “you’re doing good.”
Shyly, slowly, Maleficent surrender to her body and finally parted her knees ever-so-slightly. Aurora looked up at the faery as if she was asking for permission and, after a quick glimpse, interrupted by another low moan that forced Maleficent to shut her eyes, the girl let herself to lower her glance.
She tentatively reached down and, with a ghostly touch as not to hurt her further, she wiped away blood and sticky matter from where her thighs met, only to reveal the tender, pink flesh of Maleficent’s nether area. Aurora forced herself not to think and, gently, she placed her hand on one of her inner thighs, urging her legs further apart.
Maleficent compelled, spreading her knees with a pained growl as the round object slid further down the canal. The faery instinctively stilled and Aurora could take a good look at what was happening. Inside a rim of bloody, offended skin, she could see something glowing gold. The muscles around it pulsed, twitched to adjust at the mass trying to grand itself a passage.
“I can see – something.” She warned hesitantly. Was Aurora supposed to encourage her to bear down just yet? She knew there were specific timings, but now her mind was fogged.
She held her breath when she felt Maleficent’s head leaning against her hand and, suddenly, Aurora realized she was cupping her face, the damp cloth forgotten somewhere. Sweat was trailing down the faery’s neck and chest, but now, with her eyes closed as she pushed strained breathes out of her parted lips, she looked surprisingly at peace.
Then, she heard a flutter. Maleficent’s wings flapped with sudden jerks and one of her hand clawed the nest with intent. Aurora saw the skin on her abdomen twitch clearly and the swell travel somewhat down – was that what they called a contraction? The girl wondered if Maleficent knew what to do by herself, whether her own body would tell her what to do and when. The faery let out a deep lament and her eyes shot open when the pain waving through her didn’t cease if anything it intensified.
Maleficent hadn’t yet spoken. She couldn’t utter any meaningful word but the cries of pain she couldn’t restrain anymore. Her body contracted and she found herself pushing against the pressure she felt and the hurt doubled.
Blood poured. Aurora felt dizzy but kept looking, moved by a stubborn intent of witnessing such a miracle. Green magic started to flutter angrily around the offended cleft as it tried to heal the wound without any result.
Maleficent bore down with all her might until her lungs protested for the need of air. She relaxed all at once – or tried to – her head falling limply on the branches behind.
Aurora let out a sigh, beaming helplessly at the intense pride she was feeling. She could see more of the golden shell peeking out from her flesh and despite the blood and the indefinable secretions covering about everything, there was indeed an improvement.
“You’re doing great.” The girl encouraged. Aurora breathed in. She wanted to hug Maleficent, wrapped her shaky body into her arms and whisper things in her ears – it pained her that it had all to remain but a dream.
When another contraction hit her, Aurora got closer to her anyway. She slid her hand under her neck and supported her head as Maleficent leaned forward, her lower muscles struggling to push the egg out of her body. More liquid gushed out of the opening and it slid further down, making Aurora gasp and both of her hearts skip a beat for, oh, so different reasons.
The girl swallowed hard, reaching blindly for the water bassinet to damp another cloth in it. She wiped more sweat from Maleficent’s chest and taking advantage of that rare moment of pause, she reached down to clean her legs from the blood. The stretched skin was sensitive at the touch and Maleficent flinched immediately, leaning more into Aurora’s half embrace, seeking comfort and relief.
Aurora rested her hand on her inner thigh – the cloth placed right under her legs so that the egg would have a softer landing than braided branches – and guided her legs spread apart, even more, thinking more space could help her in the delivery.
Maleficent was now fully exposed and embarrassment long forgotten. It would have been of no use, now. She gasped for air when her muscles spasmed again, harder and longer and she had no other option than to indulge her body and push with it.
Aurora stared in amazement as the egg kept sliding slightly out and back in again, fighting against the resistance of her fully stretched skin. It had to hurt like hell. A human baby would mold its body for the delivery, faeries gave birth to small eggs when the passage didn’t hurt, but Maleficent had gotten the worst of the two words – of course.
Before she could even acknowledge what she was doing, she realized she was massaging her leg in soothing circles, her breathing almost compensating for Maleficent’s, her eyes locked on the egg about to come. Reaching down tentatively, seeking any way to alleviate her pain or ease her job, Aurora’s fingers touched the twitching skin of her opening; with a horrified gasp, she realized that she could cup the top part of the egg in her palm. She withdrew her hand and look sheepishly at Maleficent's beautiful face, now disfigured by the suffering. Without a single word, the faery understood and, with no other choice but to keep pushing and hoping for it to end soon, she braced herself for the worst part that still had to come: the shell wasn’t hard, but despite being visibly of a somewhat malleable matter – gelatinous – similar to hard jelly, it was big.
Only showing the smallest part, which fit anyway in Aurora’s palm, it was intuitively big. Aurora could only imagine the pain she was going through and felt the pangs in her own guts; somehow she still couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that a creature with the features of a normal woman, could give birth to an egg – it felt unnatural, for her. And yet it was happening, right in front of her, the tender flesh giving in at the passage of the foreign object pushing its way out Maleficent’s strained body. The weak, outstretched skin tore open to grant delivery and Aurora had to restrain the need to cover her ears with her hands to protect herself from the inhumane cried that escape the faery’s mouth.
Did faery bleed like humans? Did another faery deliver such a big egg before? Aurora stared, unable to move a muscle as the wider bit of the egg crowned from between her thighs. She mentally urged her to push further, but no sound came out from her sealed lips. She waited, and waited until Maleficent’s eyes shot open and she gasped for air, magic swirling in her green iris, turning them to gold pools.
Aurora rushed to the end of the nest, suddenly awakened from her state of numbness. She held the egg, unsure of what to do with it. It was slick with fluids and blood and the shell hardened instantly, the smooth surface paved with pores of various sizes. The girl’s heart pounded in her chest with a mixture of excitement and fright.
Maleficent curled up to her side, bringing her knees together, her own fingers brushing ever-so-lightly where she hurt the most as if she wanted to lessen the pain and the bleeding, to no end. She closed her eyes, trying to fill her lungs with unsteady breaths. It wasn’t supposed to go like that: all that pain for nothing, for the egg would surely be empty. The first egg of a female faery was always the most joyous one, but for her, it would always be one of the darkest day of her existence – she’d just delivered death with the very shell that was supposed to protect the purest form of life.
But then, out of the blue, her sensitive ears twitched at Aurora’s light gasp.
“Oh look!” She beamed. “It’s hatching!”
Maleficent forced herself to watch. Her heart constricted and expanded in an instant, almost painfully, to the point of bursting, almost, full of unexpected love. The golden shell chipped, then webbed cracks appeared on the smooth surface.
Both Aurora and Maleficent watched in awe as two pointy fang-like spurs pierced the shell, turning it into dust. Curled up into a cocoon of feathers and glistening secretion, there was something moving, which Aurora helped to free from little remains of chalky shards; she enlarged the hole and peered inside.
“It’s a baby – I think.” Aurora frowned, studying the strange creature from up close. It had wings, not dark as Maleficent’s but white; the feathers, still damp with dense liquid, bearing strikes of green, pink and blue.
Maleficent held her breath, and a moment later she was smiling. A wide, luminous grin that could lit up the whole world. Aurora was really cradling a baby still shredding eggshells and dripping sticky matter. It was a healthy creature, already kicking and stretching its tiny arms and bloomy wings.
When Aurora moved closer, careful as if she was carrying the most fragile thing on earth, Maleficent leaned upright in her nest, trying to regulate her breathing, trying to heal her own body from the brutal invasion.
She looked over Aurora with her head slightly tilted in embarrassment. Yes, she’d given birth, but she was not yet fully a mother to that creature – its conceiving still hidden under a thin layer about to be lifted. The faery watched as the baby frowned, little eyes still closed, and she couldn't help but sigh when she noticed that Aurora’s expression perfectly matched the baby’s: apart from the bird-like appendixes hanging on her back, she was Aurora’s split image as a baby.
“She looks like… me?” The girl said barely above breath. Maleficent had shown her her memories from when she was a child countless times and she remembered vividly seeing herself through Maleficent’s eyes. With puffy cheeks and rosy, pursed lips and few strands of blond hair that almost looked white, that baby was her twin. “How is that possible?”
Maleficent’s heart leaped at the news of the baby being a girl, but she didn’t allow herself to bask in the thought for too long: there were more important matters to mind. But still, she hadn’t had the strength to utter one word, yet.
Aurora swallowed the lump in her throat and sat by her side. Carefully, she handled the baby to Maleficent and the little girl immediately curled up to her mother’s bosom, seeking warmth and protection. The girl beamed at the image, worshipping the silence that had descended upon them, as the coming of that creature to the world had somehow stopped its endless spinning. She was happy, yes, but not fully – for the presence of that baby added a new meaning to the whole story: Maleficent had had to have a significant other at some point after leaving the realm, and Aurora felt betrayed, robbed of her most precious jewel. She was jealous, fuming at the thought of someone loving Maleficent more than her. Mostly she hated herself because she didn’t have enough courage to speak and confess her heart’s truest desire. But she couldn’t, she knew it already, for humans and faeries didn’t belong together – she’d chosen the easiest thing and she’d lost her, maybe forever.
Aurora resisted the urge to cup her face, run her thumb over her sharp cheekbones and peer into those glistening, multicoloured eyes. She needed to know, she needed to end this and she felt that Maleficent was keeping something from her.
“Who?” She only managed to utter.
Maleficent understood immediately what the girl was asking. Let alone what she was thinking already, the mind of the humans running quick and wild to the most vicious crimes sheathe their heart from sorrows.
“It is not what you think, Beastie.” She murmured, her voice coming soft and velvety despite still being out of breath. The weight in her arms so inconsistent that she feared, for a moment, the baby would have disappeared into thin air. The girl needed to know – she couldn’t delay it anymore – both of them deserved to know.
“Then tell me how.” Aurora demanded, truly curios now, to know the real story. "I know that you needed true love for this to happen."
“There is no one.” Maleficent begun. “No one else.”
Did becoming the Phoenix had truly changed that much? Or had it been someone she knew? Diaval, perhaps? The only thought made her shrug. But then, who? Borra? The idea was absurd. It couldn’t possibly be…? Could it? Was true love’s magic really that powerful?
“What are you saying?” She murmured.
Maleficent sighed, her bony hand cupping perfectly the baby’s skull, pulling her even closer.
“Faeries don’t need to have intercourses like men to create life, they just need a deep connection.” Aurora stared, still unable to fully wrap her head around the thought, only now barely taking forms with few, disconnected strings. “True love comes in different forms. And I for one waited for five years for you to understand that.”
“Me?” It was Aurora that Maleficent truly loved? Her sight got blurred with tears. She had waited that long. From the day she’d broken her own spell and, waking, she’d seen herself in Maleficent eyes and felt love spreading though her like the sweetest of plagues. They’d felt the same a no one had spoken. Pride, fear of rejection keeping them apart for all that time.. and now? She was listening to her words as if she was outside her body as if the story didn’t belong to her – perhaps it was easier that way, pretending it wasn’t her fault.
“Then you moved on,” Maleficent sighed, her voice slightly trembling. “and I knew you wanted something different. I would’ve robbed your destiny as the queen.”
So she hadn’t been the only one suffering in silence, thinking she had to manage on her own and make do with the things life was presenting. They had loved and they had lost and there was nothing in their power to make time go back and change reality. Maleficent had let her go when she just wanted to be kept – but now that girl resting on her mother’s chest was there and alive and if she was truly getting the meaning of all this, something must have happened between them, even if their love had been locked away.
She looked directly into Maleficent's eyes, asking silently is she was finally getting it, and if so, when did it happen. She smiled when the faery smiled back, their minds still connected, indissolubly, fatally.
“It happened when you thought I was dead. You didn't accept my death, so your tears served as the vessel of desperate love, a deep longing for me to be at your side again. Perhaps didn’t even acknowledge the moment, because you married your prince anyway – but I did.” She said and, for the first time, Maleficent looked back into Aurora’s azure eyes, really seeing her. She remembered everything vividly, it was like living it all over again: the pain, the secret in her hidden away behind a grin. “As soon as I knew, I left the kingdom – I had to, you see – I thought I had to do this on my own. Because our lives had been parted forever.”
“You never planned of coming back.” Aurora murmured, pangs of utter fear grasping her stomach. Had she really been on the brisk of losing her forever, without even knowing it?
Maleficent gave her guilty expression, but didn’t confess it by words. She sighed and looked down at the infant in her arms. As if she knew what was going on around her, she opened her eyes and revealed glistening golden iris striped with blue, similar to Maleficent’s but entirely different in color.
Aurora gasped. So if everything was true, that creature was partly hers too. The love they shared somehow blooming anyway and creating life. She couldn’t deny it anymore, she couldn't hide it – she couldn’t go on with the lies.
“Maleficent.” The girl called softly, the word rolling on her tongue practically for the first time. The faery's heart skipped a beat at the sound of it. “I thought you loved me differently, that’s why I married Philip: I thought I could never have you.”
“That’s why you accepted to marry him?” Maleficent asked, the idea suddenly taking form. There was no other explanation for her Beastie to marry such a dull boy; Aurora simply didn’t wish to remain alone and when Maleficent, day after day, had never confessed her feelings to her, of course, the girl had sought for cares elsewhere. It was all her fault.
“I should’ve known the reason why you didn’t want me to marry him.” Aurora sighed, a bittersweet smile creeping from her lips.
“Will you ever forgive me?” Maleficent asked. If she had had more courage, she would have spared so much to both of them.
“I have to, don’t you think?” Replied Aurora, smiling proudly now, as happy tears streamed down her round cheeks.
Maleficent mirrored her expression. She hardly suppressed a sob and leaned in, resting her forehead in the crook of Aurora’s neck. They stayed there, quietly, looking down at the infant as it stared back at her with its foggy sight, eyes still unable to make out shapes and colours. Did she even see their faces?
“This child will make your wishes come true, she’ll bring together the two worlds for good.” It was a miracle child, in every way. “She is the first of its kind. Half Phoenix, half human."
Aurora breathed softly, taking the information finally in. Those words, awaited for so long, the love she felt for Maleficent not only had finally escaped her lock, it had burst, exploded like a star in the sky and, returned, it had grown, and created a child. She was a mother herself, a privilege she shared with the person she truly loved since her true awakening – that day, Maleficent had brought her back and bestowed with the purest of gifts. She’d ignored it for so long, but she would do that no more – she would cherish it and nourish it like it was supposed to be since the beginning.
“I do not care for the worlds she binds, but for the people.” Aurora murmured and, hesitantly, she leaned in and searched Maleficent’s red lips with her own. Velvet against velvet, they shared their first kiss; the first of many others to come. Aurora parted from her, beaming as her cheeks grew warm. She felt lucky and incredibly grateful toward a creature she yet had to know. But she loved her daughter unconditionally for it was part of Maleficent and of her as well – the testimony of the strength of their love combined. “She indeed is a miracle, for she brought you back to me.”