Maleficent(36)

            “Most do,” Maleficent replied shortly, not in the mood for conversation. It was hard enough just listening to Aurora’s singsong voice without breaking down, admitting that she had cursed her, and then begging for forgiveness.

            But Aurora didn’t take the hint. “Then why don’t you?”

            “It’s not anything I wish to talk about,” Maleficent said softly.

            “I’m just curious because all the other faeries have wings and—”

            It was too much for Maleficent. “Enough!” she snapped.

            Aurora instantly became quiet and they walked on in silence. Glancing at the princess, Maleficent saw that her face had grown pale and her eyes were watery. Seeing the pain she had caused, Maleficent softened. “I had wings once,” she said, her voice barely a whisper, the pain sharp just from remembering them. “But they were stolen from me. And that’s all I’ll say about it.”

            But she had given Aurora only a tidbit of information and the princess wanted more. “What color were they?” she asked, growing excited. “How big were they?”

            Looking off into the distance, as though she could see them on the horizon, Maleficent smiled sadly. “So big they dragged behind me when I walked. And they were strong.” As she spoke of her long-lost wings, she felt an itch on her back where the scars remained. “They could carry me above the clouds and straight into headwinds. They never faltered. Not even once. I could trust them.”

            As her words faded, Maleficent dared not look at Aurora. She had never said those words aloud. Never admitted to anyone just how much the wings had meant to her and how much it had hurt when Stefan took them away. They had reminded her of her mother, but they had also become the features that she linked to her own identity—her soaring, organic identity.

            Suddenly, she felt long fingers intertwine with hers. Looking down, she saw that Aurora had put her delicate hand in hers and was squeezing tight. Meeting her gaze, Maleficent saw the pain she felt reflected in Aurora’s eyes. It overwhelmed her. Slowly, she pulled her hand free. She had already lost so much she loved. And now it was only a matter of time before Aurora, too, was taken away.

                         Maleficent’s wings were carrying him, higher and higher into a sky the color of soot. He struggled against them, kicking wildly. Soon he saw their target. The Thorn Wall gleamed in the moonlight below him, the boulder-sized thorns pointed up. The wings were taking him right above it. Even if he survived the fall, he would never survive the impalement he was sure to experience. Just as he felt the wings let go, Stefan woke up, gasping, in his chamber.

            Another nightmare. Would those wings never cease haunting him, even in sleep? Quickly, he got dressed and headed to the battlements. He needed to be active, to see the progress his men were making.

            But as Stefan approached the scene, he was sorely disappointed. Nothing was being done. There were no workers in sight besides the overseer of the ironworkers, who was snoring loudly in the corner. Stefan grabbed a bucket of water and threw it at the sleeping man. The overseer bolted up, shocked and disheveled.

            “Where are your men?” Stefan asked.

            “In their beds, Majesty,” the overseer responded, shivering.

            “Get them back to work without delay.”

            The man hesitated, unsure how to refuse the king. “They’re exhausted, sire. But I’ll have them back to work at first light.”

            “I need them back to work now,” Stefan insisted.

            The overseer wasn’t sure what the king meant. Work now? “It’s the wee hours,” he started.