And while Maleficent wasn’t there to witness the reunion, she had a good idea of how that would go, too. King Stefan would see Aurora, and at first he would think she was just some common country girl. After all, he, more focused on Maleficent and his own selfish fear, hadn’t really thought about her in years, and she most definitely didn’t wear royal clothes. Then, when she told him she was his daughter and tried to hug him, he would hold her at arm’s length, trying to see if she was really, truly his flesh and blood. When he decided she was, he would soften, just a bit. Maleficent hated to think of him softening, but she had to believe he had some heart left under all that paranoia and armor.
Then, Maleficent figured, he would tell Aurora that she was beautiful, like her mother. But that would be as far as his fatherly kindness would go. For he would quickly realize that Aurora had arrived back a day early and that the faeries had not done their job. He would realize what that meant: that the curse could still be inflicted on his newly returned daughter. He would panic and order that Aurora be brought to a safe place, where she would be forced to remain until the next day. Aurora wouldn’t have a chance to argue, but before she was led away, she would ask about her mother. And Stefan would ignore her question, leaving it to a hapless guard to break the news that had spread throughout the kingdom: that her mother had died.
That was the way it would happen, Maleficent mused as she sat in her grove, the light fading around her. Suddenly, she sat up straighter. It didn’t have to happen that way, though. Not if she could get to the cottage before Aurora took off and try to convince her to stay.
She jumped up, raced over the Moors, passed through the Wall, and made her way to the clearing in the woods. Bursting into Aurora’s bedroom, she found it empty. Her eyes narrowed. “Those fools!” she shouted. They hadn’t stopped her! How could they have let her go when what waited at the castle would surely hurt her?
Hearing Diaval’s caw, Maleficent turned and saw him perched in the window. Waving her hand, she transformed him into a man and waited for his report. “I found the boy,” he said.
Maleficent nodded. “Show me,” she ordered.
Together, the two made their way out of the cottage and into the woods. They didn’t have to go far. Phillip was nearby, heading toward the cottage in hopes of seeing Aurora again.
Stepping forward, Maleficent saw Phillip take in her horns and long dark cloak and pale slightly. But he didn’t step back. Instead, he put his hand on his sword and met Maleficent’s gaze head-on. Despite herself, Maleficent was impressed. “I’m looking for a girl,” he said.
“Of course you are,” she replied.
Phillip was about to ask just how the horned woman knew that when Maleficent pulled out a yellow flower and blew its pollen toward him. In moments, he was asleep. That taken care of, Maleficent looked around. Now she needed a quick way to reach the castle. “I need a horse.” Her eyes landed on Diaval perched in a tree. She smiled. That could work quite well.
Moments later, as the sun began to sink below the horizon, Maleficent galloped down the road on the back of a beautiful jet-black horse. She held a sleeping Phillip in front of her as they traveled toward the castle. With each big stride of the Diaval horse, they grew closer and closer. And with each big stride, Maleficent grew more and more worried. The sun was almost down. Time was running out…fast.
As Maleficent raced toward Aurora, she felt the presence of the girl growing stronger. All their time together had created an invisible, magical link between the pair. It allowed Maleficent to sense where Aurora was and how she was feeling. At that moment, she could almost see Aurora in her room in the castle, pacing back and forth before the door. She wouldn’t be happy that she had come all that way just to be locked up like some prisoner. So when a handmaiden knocked at the door, Aurora would eagerly open it. She would ignore the other girl when she said something ignorant like “This room is for the princess when she arrives. No one should be occupying it.” Aurora would see her chance and, not bothering to correct the handmaiden, would push past her and run out. Turning a corner, she would slow her pace. And that was when she would feel it for the first time—a strange ache in the tip of her finger. An ache that she desperately wanted to make go away. She wouldn’t be able to explain it, and her feet would continue moving toward an unknown destination.
On the road outside the castle, Maleficent felt the ache in her finger as well. But unlike Aurora, she knew what it meant. It meant that the curse was growing stronger as the time for it to be fulfilled approached. And until that time came, Aurora would make her way through the entire castle looking for the one thing that would take away the pain—a spinning wheel. She would enter the laundry room, with its long mending table, but move on when she saw only needles and thread. Her finger throbbing more than ever, she would keep going, desperate to find what she was looking for, but still not able to put a name to it. Knowing that all this was happening, Maleficent squeezed her legs, urging Diaval on faster.
A few minutes later, they arrived at the outskirts of the kingdom. Cresting a hill, Diaval reared up as the large ominous structure came into view. This was the first time Maleficent had seen the castle in nearly sixteen years. And it was no longer the beautiful castle it had once been. The blue stone had been covered entirely by iron, making the walls impenetrable. Nasty-looking iron spikes topped the parapets and towers, and along the ramparts, soldiers in iron armor paced back and forth holding iron weapons. King Stefan had done everything in his power to make his castle Maleficent-proof. Now, looking up at it, Maleficent realized he had done his job thoroughly. It was going to be nearly impossible for her to get inside. But nearly impossible and impossible were two very different things, and she wasn’t willing to give up yet. Plus, even if she couldn’t get in, Phillip could. And that was all she needed.
Just then, Maleficent felt a cooling in the air. With a feeling of dread, she turned and looked toward the horizon in the west. Time had run out. As she watched, the sun sank lower and lower into the horizon, the last rays spreading their weak warmth across the countryside. And then, just as the rays faded and disappeared altogether, Maleficent felt it. A pain deep inside her that built and built and then burst, causing her to cry out.
“It’s done,” she said, her voice aching. The curse had been fulfilled. Somewhere inside that iron fortress, Aurora had found a spinning wheel and pricked her finger on it. And somewhere in there, she now lay in a sleep that would last forever. Unless…Maleficent looked down at Phillip. Kicking Diaval on, she raced toward the castle, holding Aurora’s last hope carefully in front of her.
NIGHT HAD FALLEN. Hours had passed since Maleficent had felt the pain in her finger and known Aurora was lost to sleep. Now, standing in front of King Stefan’s castle, Maleficent and Diaval, once more in his human form, stared up at the big iron gates. Behind them, Phillip slept on, propped up against a tree. The gates were unguarded and oddly quiet. Noticing that, Maleficent cocked her head. On one hand, that was good news, as it meant Maleficent could enter the castle undetected. But on the other hand, it meant she had no idea what to expect once inside.
“He’s waiting for you in there,” Diaval pointed out. He didn’t bother to say who, as Maleficent knew all too well. “If we go inside those walls, we’ll never get out alive.”
Maleficent continued to stare straight ahead, barely registering Diaval’s words. “Then don’t come,” she said absently. “It’s not your fight.” Using her staff, she lifted the sleeping Phillip and began to move on.
Behind her, Diaval let out a sigh. Once, just once, it would be nice if Maleficent were able to see what was really going on. It would be nice to hear her say, “Please come with me, Diaval. We can do anything as long as we’re together.” But Diaval knew those were words he would never hear. And while he wished it were different, he also knew he could never let Maleficent go into that castle alone. Letting out a little groan, he ran to cat
ch up.
Inside the castle, the halls were quiet. News that the curse had been fulfilled had spread like wildfire, and servants and soldiers alike quaked with fear at King Stefan’s rage. He had already taken his anger out on the three dimwitted pixies who had let Aurora come back too early. After berating them for hours, calling them useless and failures, he had ordered them to find someone—anyone—who could give his daughter the kiss of true love.
What he didn’t know was that his own first love was now inside his castle, making her way closer with the one man who might stand a chance at waking up his daughter.
As soon as Maleficent had passed through the castle’s main gate, she had felt the weight of the iron on her. While she was able to avoid touching it, the dark metal was everywhere. It lined the walls, carefully sculpted into the shape of brambles and thorns, effectively making it appear like an iron version of her Thorn Wall. The iron thorns thrust out of the wall and jutted down from the ceiling, forcing Maleficent to walk carefully and keep her pace slow. Eager to get to Aurora, she chafed at the speed. But when they heard a guard approaching and had to duck back into the shadows, Maleficent realized that walking was not as bad as the searing pain she felt when the iron touched her back.
When the guard had finally passed and the coast was clear, Maleficent stepped away from the wall, gasping for breath.
“Are you burned?” Diaval asked, concern lacing his voice.
But Maleficent didn’t answer. Gritting her teeth, she simply said, “Carry on.”
For the next few minutes, they walked along in silence. Hearing still more footsteps, they once again hid in the shadows. But this time Maleficent was careful to keep her back off the walls. Peeking out, she saw that the footsteps belonged to two handmaidens. They carried clean linens in their arms as they scurried down the hall.
“How long will she sleep?” one of them asked.
The other shrugged. “Forever, I guess.”
Maleficent looked at Diaval and raised an eyebrow. The women could be talking about only one person: Aurora. Maleficent waited until the pair had moved past, then silently slipped back into the hall. Diaval joined her, holding Phillip up in his arms. They began to follow the handmaidens.
A short while later they arrived at the princess’s room. They ducked behind a thick set of drapes that covered the wall opposite the room, and Maleficent took stock of the situation. Two soldiers stood guard, and through the open door, Maleficent could hear the grating voices of Knotgrass, Thistlewit, and Flittle. The trio seemed to be in the middle of forcing someone to kiss the princess.
“This is Princess Aurora,” Maleficent heard Knotgrass say.
“Isn’t she beautiful?” Flittle added.
A male voice answered, “Yes.”
Then Knotgrass spoke again. “Are you in love with her?”
Hidden behind the drapes, Maleficent rolled her eyes. Did those three nincompoops honestly think that all it would take was some stranger saying he loved the princess and kissing her for the curse to lift? Poof? Just like that? Beside her, Diaval saw her expression and smiled knowingly. While they didn’t irk him as much as they did Maleficent, he was well aware of how silly the three pixies could be, and he sympathized.
When the young man in the room replied that he was “madly” in love with Aurora, Maleficent heard Knotgrass say, “You may kiss her, then.”
There was a moment of silence and Maleficent knew that the young man was kissing Aurora. There was another moment as everyone in the room waited for Aurora to wake up. But of course, she didn’t.
If she hadn’t been so distraught, Maleficent would have laughed out loud when she heard one of the pixies stamp her feet in frustration. She did love when they got worked up. Then Flittle cried out, “If it was true love, you would have woken her!”
“I’ll try again,” Maleficent heard the young man say.
But the pixies wanted him out. A moment later he appeared in the doorway, looking dejected. Behind him, Thistlewit and Flittle stood in the door, their arms folded across their chests. They waited for him to walk away before turning to the two handmaidens, who had been waiting patiently. Reaching out, the pixies snatched the linens and, with a huff, turned and closed the door behind them. The two handmaidens looked at each other and then, shrugging, turned and walked down the hall. Within moments, the hall was once again empty save for the two guards and the threesome hidden behind the curtain.
Maleficent knew this was her chance. Moving slightly away from the curtain, she waved her hand in front of Phillip and softly whispered, “Wake.” Then, with a gentle shove, she pushed him out from behind the curtain. He stumbled into the hall, the noise alerting the guards, who quickly raised their swords, unsure where the young man had come from. At the same moment, the door opened and the three pixies bustled out, nearly crashing into Phillip.
Looking around, Phillip shook his head, as though trying to clear his vision. “Pardon me,” he said, seeing the three pixies. “I’m embarrassed to say I don’t know where I am.” Despite having just woken up from a magical sleep and not knowing where he was or how he had gotten there, he looked every part the perfect, handsome gentleman, Maleficent had to admit.
The faeries must have thought so, too, because they didn’t slam the door in his face. Instead, they informed him that he was in King Stefan’s castle.
Upon hearing that, Phillip looked surprised. “This is where I’m meant to be,” he said, trying to understand. “Odd that I can’t recall how I got here. My father sent me to see the king.”
Knotgrass perked up. If his father had sent him to see the king, perhaps this young man was someone of importance. There was one way to find out. “Who is your father?” she asked.
“King John of Ulstead,” Phillip replied.
The three faeries exchanged looks as they mouthed, “Prince.” Without a word of explanation, they pulled him into the room.
In the hall, Maleficent anxiously waited, straining to hear what was going on. While she had been surprised to hear Phillip say his father was a king, she was rather pleased. It seemed only right that if Aurora, a princess, were to be awoken, it would be by the kiss of true love from a prince.
“What’s your name?” she heard Knotgrass ask, followed by the sound of footsteps as the group made their way toward Aurora.
“Phillip,” he answered.
“Well, Prince Phillip, meet Princess Aurora,” Flittle said.
Maleficent didn’t have to be in the room to know that as Flittle stepped aside, Phillip would see Aurora and his eyes would widen as recognized her from the forest.
Sure enough, his next words were “I know this girl.”
Not satisfied only to listen in on the events unfolding, Maleficent stepped out of the shadows. The two guards had only a moment to recognize the horns before Maleficent lifted her staff and quickly knocked them out. Turning, she gestured to Diaval to follow her.
Silently, they slipped through the open door. A huge bed dominated the center of the room, heavy curtains draped on either side of the massive headboard. Intricate carvings were etched into the four wooden posts that held up the bed. And flowing down from the top, covering the now sleeping form of Aurora, was a thin white translucent fabric that made Maleficent think of a spider’s web. Seemingly weak, but actually strong enough to keep things trapped inside.
Glancing around the rest of the room, Maleficent felt a wave of sadness flood over her. This was clearly the room that had once been intended as Aurora’s nursery. A small crib, the same translucent fabric covering it, was pushed against one of the three giant windows that lined the far wall. But while the large bed was clean, the crib was covered in a thick layer of dust, as were the toys and rocking horse pushed into the far corner.
This is my doing, Maleficent thought, gazing around the sad room. This was where Aurora would have spent hours playing, reading with
her mother, pouring tea with her imaginary friends. But I took that from her. I even took her chance of happiness in the Moors away from her. And now she lies here, lifeless. And I have no one to blame but myself.
Shaking her head, Maleficent moved a bit closer, careful not to make any noise that would alert the pixies or Phillip. There was still a small chance, a very small chance, that all was not lost. But it depended on something intangible.
“Why is she sleeping?” Phillip asked, unaware of Maleficent’s arrival.
“She’s trapped in an enchantment,” Knotgrass answered.
Maleficent rolled her eyes. The three pixies were hopeless. Phillip knew nothing of magic. Telling him it was an enchantment could frighten him away.
Luckily, it didn’t seem to faze Phillip. He took a step closer to Aurora. “She’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” he said.
The three pixies exchanged excited glances. “Do you want to kiss her?” Thistlewit asked.
Phillip nodded. “Very much.”
“Go on, then,” Knotgrass said, gesturing toward the bed.
“I wouldn’t feel right about it,” Phillip said, hesitating. “I barely know her. We only met once.”
In the shadows, Maleficent’s heart began to pound. He had to kiss her. He had to! The faeries couldn’t let him walk out the door just because he was being a gentleman. This could be their last chance. This could be true love! Feeling Diaval’s gaze on her, she turned and shot him a look. She knew what he was thinking. He was thinking I told you so. True Love’s Kiss can exist. But she didn’t even care. Hope was flowing through her, pushing aside the old, hard skepticism that had filled her for years.
Luckily, the pixies had no intention of letting Phillip walk out of the room just yet.
Flittle pushed the prince closer. “Haven’t you ever heard of love at first sight?”
“Kiss her!” Knotgrass urged.
Slowly, Phillip leaned down and gently moved aside the light fabric. Maleficent’s breath caught in her throat as she waited for him to close his eyes, pucker his lips…
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