Yikes, the last time I updated, Maleficent 2 was only a rumor, now we have an entire movie in October!

This is a short chapter that I kept playing in my head and kept pulling me back to finish this story because this story has seriously followed me since I was an 8th Grader now I'm graduating High School in June it's so crazy, but anyways here's the story, fingers crossed it won't take me 3 years to update the next one!

Until She's Crowned

Chapter Thirteen | What Once Was Mine

Friday February 7th, 2014

"Rosetta, read me over the attendance list," Mallory said, as her assistant walked by her side, looking over the paintings hung on the walls.

"Yes, we have her Majesty, Queen Elsa of Arendelle, and she's already wrote back, saying that she'll bring her sister with her." Rosetta paused to read a few of the names, but Mallory had already walked away. "And there's the Emperor of China, but we haven't sent his out yet, I expect him to come with his three granddaughters," she replied in admiration. She loved those three, but not so much so when she tried to catch up to her boss.

"Then there's the King Henry of," but she didn't realize that even the first half of the name would bring flames.

Mallory, the troubled, reckless Queen of Moreise stopped. Her heart beat, which she could count, slowed, and her blood flow went cold. "King Henry of…" She trailed off, repelling herself from saying the rest. "Who invited him?" She demanded.

Rosetta could've crawled in fear, she very much seemed like it, when the Queen's eyes were dimmed, only glowing with this odd strange flame. Her voice could tremble, but she didn't know what to say. The dinner list was shaking slightly at her hands. "I'm not sure, your Majesty. I've been faxed over the papers just on Wednesday."

The Queen walked, walked away again, but this time, she was louder. The clock was ticking in her head, and time was gone. She was running out. Her hands were tied together. Time, the clock is ticking. Just a matter of weeks. Her nails were drawing blood. And those stupid flowers. And the time. The red flower. The white one, she was staining everything with poison. She drank poison. And she's running out of….

"Your Grace?" Rosetta's timid voice broke her hallucination.

Mallory didn't turn around, she was hiding behind her fixed state, the sophisticated cool one, but Rosetta could tell she was screaming.

Inside her head was Aurora sleeping, frozen in time, a true wondrous fair. Dreaming in repose, by lips tainted by a poison.

Then there was Stefan, who also tainted Mallory's lips with his.

"Where did you get that, who did…" She tried pronouncing, as she felt her thin skin, a blooming flower of blood, ripping, dripping, landing freshly on the floor. "Who sent you that?" The Queen cries settled with that one clear question.

Her cheeks felt more hollow, her eyes more empty.

"Moreise. I assume the Prime Minister, but it was sent from the library. The one in the castle."

She stays. She cracks a smile. The library, books that all were marked by the once close Moreisian sisters, books that filled their empty childhoods. But that was long ago.

Long ago, she was his victim. It's a promise she won't allow happen again.

Let him ruin her. Let all her blood stain him. Let him burn her.

As if it wasn't enough of you taking away my life, now you drive me to insanity. No one is safe.

You will burn with me Stefan.

Monday February 10, 2014

Moreise, as Aurora had come to learn had shed the blood of many soldiers. It wasn't the cinematic poetry that drapes the blood in pretty ways to portray betrayal. It was a scary one not ever mentioned in her history books.

A king and Queen, "Lysander and Hermia were my parents." Mallory didn't go any further.

Ganancia, the rival kingdom revived themselves in wealthy greed, declared a war for riches, oil and coal.

"Quite the modern war" Diaval whispered, leaned back, as if he was resting on his casket.

King Henry didn't spare a second thought when he brought his armies into the country of Moreise. Not when he decided to attack at nightfall, and definitely not when there was a 3 year old crying, with her infant sister on the servants' laps.

Especially not when he had started a small fire that drew the attention of the King and Queen when they tied making peace.

"They were dead." Her voice fainted. "Leila was too tired to cry."

Aurora saw the wrinkles in Mallory's face, one for each restless night of each fight she endured.

Mallory's gloved hands fidgeted behind her. Her queenly hands spoke more for her, each finger bent at every brow raise and choked sighs.

Aurora could choke too. Especially if the children woke up crying orphans.