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Maleficent(50)

By:Elizabeth Rudnick


            Under the net, Maleficent stayed curled in a helpless ball, weakening every moment she spent surrounded by the iron. Her staff was too far away to reach, and without it, she felt even more powerless. After a while, she could only lie there and listen as Diaval roared. She could only lie there and do nothing as soldiers stumbled past her, trying to escape the fire-breathing dragon. She could only lie there and think, This is all my fault.

            The minutes seemed to stretch on for hours, and Maleficent began to think she might never escape her iron prison. Then, through the haze of pain that continued to rack her body, Maleficent heard the sound of approaching footsteps. Unlike the hurried, frightened ones of the soldiers, these footsteps were determined, confident. She looked up, already knowing who she would see.

            Stefan was approaching, his eyes glued on Maleficent, trapped under the net. They bore into her, all traces of the feelings he had once had for her gone. For the first time, Maleficent truly saw him for the despicable man he had become. True, she knew he had changed physically—the boyish build and unlined face replaced by girth and wrinkles. And she knew he had grown colder. That was evidenced by his murdering King Henry and cutting off her wings, to name a few offenses. But before, those things had made her hate him even more. Now she felt almost sorry for him.

            There was nothing left of the boy she had fallen in love with in the Moors. No hint of the playfulness that Stefan had easily displayed as they chatted beside the bogs or walked through the forest. This man before her was hard, cold, and dead inside. The years of building iron walls around his castle had had an adverse effect—they had caused him to build an iron wall around his heart. Staring into his eyes, Maleficent felt sad. Sad and frightened. For there was no telling what he would do now. Desperately, she reached for her staff again. But it was still just out of her grasp.

            Seeing her struggle, Stefan smiled cruelly. “I still regret not killing you that night,” he said harshly.

            The words cut deep and any sadness she had begun to feel for Stefan vanished in an instant. Memories of that night long before, when he had taken her heart and her wings, came flooding back. He might as well have killed her for the damage he had done. That night had set in motion a horrible chain of events. In a way, that night had made her a heartless monster just like him—until she met Aurora and things began to change. Yet she would never admit that to him. Not now. So instead, Maleficent gathered her remaining strength and said, “You were always weak.”

            Stefan’s face turned red and his hand tightened around the hilt of his sword. Maleficent knew she had gone too far. But what did it matter now? The chances of her escaping were far from good. As if to prove her right, Stefan raised his heavy sword high above his head. Then, with a loud scream, he brought it down.…

            Maleficent closed her eyes, waiting for the blow.

            But it never came.

            Instead, there was a roar followed by a loud thud. Opening her eyes, Maleficent saw Stefan lying on the floor a few feet away, and standing above her was Diaval the dragon. She smiled at him as he lowered his long neck and gently grabbed the iron net in his teeth. Then he pulled it off Maleficent, freeing her at last.

            As soon as the net was gone, Maleficent grabbed her staff and scrambled to her feet. As the blood rushed back to her limbs, a wave of dizziness hit her, forcing her to steady herself on her staff for a moment. Taking a few deep breaths, she waited for her head to clear. Then she stood up straight. Adrenaline flooded through her as she took in the chaos around her. Soldiers were running in every direction, fearful of the giant creature in their midst. Diaval had broken nearly every chandelier in the Great Hall and his fiery breath had scorched the walls, turning them black. His giant claws had left deep gashes in the stone floor, while his long tail had taken out several large pillars near the hall’s grand entrance. Scanning the room, she saw Stefan struggling to his feet, and without hesitation, he began to charge toward her. But he didn’t make it far. Diaval stepped between them and, with another mighty roar, renewed his fight with Stefan and the soldiers.