"Ravens do not sing, Diaval."

It isn't like she's lying, ravens don't sing- as birds. Unfortunately, that is no longer true of Diaval, and in human form his singing is, well, not good exactly. He has only a vague sense of pitch, and his voice isn't exactly musical.

But it's warm, somehow. It reminds her of hearths in winter and the colors of autumn leaves, and..home.

It's pleasant to listen to. Not that she ever admits it.

But when the girl grows too old to fuss without reason and require a lullaby to sleep- well, Maleficent may have come to miss the sound of his songs drifting through the night.

Diaval does not understand the whole story until much later, until after the coronation. He understands Stefan was the one who took her wings, and that he'd had Maleficent's trust.

He does not pity her, she is too powerful for that.

He doesn't hate her for her choices- he respects her too much, even if he can see that this will not end well.

In the end, all he feels is a burning sadness for all that has been lost because of one man's choices. He hates Stefan for the wings that are now a trophy, for the cry of agony that still haunts his dreams. But most of all, he hates him for betraying her trust in a way that she won't trust again.

It isn't unusual for Diaval to collect pretty things.

Ravens have a natural affinity for anything that sparkles, and he has simply never broken the habit.

He's never thought to offer any to his mistress-she doesn't seem the type to enjoy a bird's baubles- until the day he finds a particular stone. Blue, green, brown and gray all mixed together in streams and rivulets of color chasing each other across the smooth surface.

He brings it to her and watches as she examines it, and then turns those otherworldly eyes to him.

''And what would I need this for?''

He shrugs, not really having an answer for that.

"Aren't precious stones supposed to have magic properties?"

She smiles.

"Weak magic, yes. But nevermind. I'll find a use for it."

''I simply required a companion at the time. Nothing more.'

'If you say so, godmother."

"I owe her my life, that's all."

"Alright, Diaval."

Neither of them admits anything more that day. But they're different in each other's company, as if being forced to confront their feelings. Aurora smiles and doesn't ask again. She doesn't need to.

"Why are you still with me, Diaval?' she asks him, on the day of Princess Aurora's coronation. "You have magic of your own now. You're free to go wherever you wish."

"I told you, my life is yours."

She turns to him, and there is anger in her eyes.

"I asked for your wings. I have my own now."

"Do you want me gone?"

The answer is so simple, just a single word. A single word that will change everything.

And Maleficent is tired of regretting her choices.

'No."

They are close now. Maleficent has unconsciously avoided physical contact- now she sees how long it has been since she's been so close to anyone. It's time to forget the old and start fresh- a new beginning.

She never does know who leaned forward first.

"Why did you stay?" There is sadness there- not every wound has been healed by the love of a child, and all he wants is for this last lingering pain of hers to go away.

He kisses her. She stills for a moment, enough for him to start to pull away. And then she is kissing back.

She isn't afraid of his leaving again.

"Aurora, I am not wearing white under any circumstances."

"But-"

"I said no."

She goes to the groom-to-be.

"But, Daival-"

"I'm not going in front of that many people."

Diaval and Maleficent are getting married. And yes, Aurora would be very happy about this (the looks they've been giving each other, it's about time they did something about it)- if it weren't for the fact that they would just as well do it alone in the middle of forest and be content.

And Aurora really wants to make it memorable for them. Plus, her fairy godmother has done enough hiding.

It takes a lot of convincing.

In the end Maleficent wears a gown of a dark honey-brown material that shimmers gold where it catches the light. Despite her initial reservations against any color that isn't black (though admittedly the dark color does suit her), Maleficent is pleased with the result.

The wedding actually does take place in the forest- in a large clearing, with enough space for the people of the Moors to gather. They are married by neither King nor priest, but, as is the custom of the Moors, share sweet vows and a kiss under the pale light of the waning moon.

''You still can't surprise me.''

The raven gliding inside from the window behind her lets out an annoyed caw.

Maleficent turns her head and smiles at his nearly soundless approach. Years of living in the Moors- and at her side- have taught Diaval to master magic, and given him the ability to transform at will.

The human is as much a part of him as the raven now, and he loves to soar across the sky with her even as he spends time with her and Aurora in human form.

Now as he approaches her he transforms as he is skimming the ground, going from gliding to walking in a smooth motion that speaks of years of practice.

Most of the well-wishers gathered at her bedside have left by now, leaving behind gifts and tokens. Maleficent smiles at the sight of a crown of woven flowers- Aurora may be Queen of the Moors and human lands (though that distinction blurs more every day), but Maleficent is their protector, and human and fae alike gather for a new princess born.

Aurora is still sitting at the faerie's side. As Diaval approaches, she gives Maleficent one last smile "I'll be back tomorrow, godmother."and disappears through the door.

Maleficent moves slightly to give him space, and he sits beside her, placing an arm around her shoulders.

''She has her mother's eyes.''

It's true, Maleficent thinks, carding her fingers through the baby's hair. Her daughter's eyes , gaining their true color, are the same not-quite-green, not-quite-gray of Maleficent's own, and her hair is pitch black, the same color as her small set of wings, soft and dark as-

''Raven feathers.''

She feels his laugh as much as she hears it, warm and sweet beside her.

''Have you thought of a name yet?"

She leans against him, and dark hair spills across his shoulder. He reaches up and brushes it off her face and away from her closed eyes.

"No,^ Maleficent admits, quietly. ''Nothing seems…right, somehow. Beauty, courage, honesty, I wish for her to have all of them- but her name..''

"Names have power," he says, then, a moment later,''What do you wish the most for her, my lady?'

The answer is instantaneous, born of a thousand days and nights looking up at the sky and wishing and hoping and longing.

''I want her to be free."

Diaval watches as his daughter's wings flutter as if in response to her mother's words, gently stirring the fabric of her pale blue dress. He feels the rightness of the moment, after everything they have been through.

"Then that will be her name, love." Diaval whispers softly, careful not to disturb either of them. "Saoirse. Freedom.''