Chapter Text
He sat there all day, refusing to eat, or speak with them. Prince Phillip wanted to feel Aurora's misery as his own, and boy, did he feel awful.
"Phillip, dear," Fauna approached him. "It's getting late, we need to prepare to leave."
"And that means getting you cleaned up." Added Merryweather. "You're meeting your father tonight, too."
"Right," he amended, standing up.
Flora had been looking through some books and pointed to her sisters the idea she had. "It's not too formal, so then people won't recognize him when we pass through the kingdom."
"I like the neutral colors." Stated Fauna.
"Alright ladies," Flora said, directing her wand at Phillip. "All together!" And with a wave of their little wooden sticks and a splash of sparkles, Prince Phillip was tidied right up. He wore black pantaloons and a tight, black, long sleeved shirt, covered by a brown tunic. Maroon boots adorned his feet and a long red cape with a hood cascaded down his back.
"My, doesn't he look dashing?" Flora gushed.
"Much more fitting for a Prince!" Fauna agreed.
"Now, one more thing, and this is very important."
Phillip stood proud, to show he was listening.
"You will be protecting Aurora, you know this. But to help you, we bestow upon you this." Another spattering of sparkles and a mighty sword appeared in his grasp. "This mighty sword of the spirit, which is directly linked to your own spirit. May it's strength protect you and Aurora."
He kneeled and bowed his head. "I thank you. And I promise I shall guard her with my life."
It was then that the door creaked open and Princess Aurora stood above them all, dressed in the magnificent blue gown that was presented to her. Her normal black headband was missing, but her golden hair fell nicely on her shoulders. With a short curtsy, she looked to her family. "Do I look like a Princess?" She managed a small smile.
"You've always looked like a Princess." Fauna gushed, tears in her eyes.
Aurora blushed and came down the stairs.
"Now my dear," Fauna took out the cloak from the closet. "We'll need you to wear this. Once we get into the villages, we'll have you and Phillip walk a few steps behind us, so they don't associate us together."
"Why?" Asked she, as she wrapped up with the cloak.
"We can't have anyone recognize you, and we are well known faces. We promise everything will make sense soon."
Seemingly understanding them, Aurora nodded. "Can I take anything with me?"
"You won't need to dear…and if you want, we can come back."
"Alright." She pulled her hood up. Before Phillip could take her arm, she sealed herself inside her cape, her face barely able to be seen. Following suit, Phillip pulled his own hood up, and off they went.
The trip was silent and relatively uneventful. Everyone could tell that Aurora was still in inner turmoil, but let her be. They came upon the town relatively fast and melted into the throng of people. Everyone was busy doing this and that, cleaning, decorating, and overall preparing for the festivities.
"They're waiting to welcome you home." Phillip stated quietly.
She said nothing, but focused on the ground.
As the crowd grew thicker, Phillip instinctively put an arm on her waist. The fairies were now much farther ahead, but could still be seen. As predicted, the crowd parted when they saw the three mystic beings, but paid no heed to the cloaked strangers.
Phillip began to feel apprehension about returning. After all, he was proclaimed dead four years ago. How would people take to seeing him alive again? Would anyone even believe him? What if they assumed he was created by Maleficent? No, that wouldn't happen. One glimpse and his father would run to him with open arms.
As they neared the castle, the crowd grew thicker and thicker until Aurora was bumped from his side. Another young man grabbed her arm and pulled her towards him. "Well, hello gorgeous!" He raised his eyebrows.
Afraid, Aurora pulled her hood closer. Fortunately, Phillip found her a moment later and resumed his place around her waist. "Excuse us." He spoke to the stranger.
"Hey buddy, what's the big deal?" The uglier man spoke. "Can't you see I'm making a move?"
"Yes, and it's unwarranted. I'm sure." Again, he tried to pull the Princess away.
"What's your problem buddy?"
"She's spoken for!" Phillip's patience was worn thin.
"Oh yeah? By who? You? And just what are you going to do about it?" The peasant man sized Phillip up. Granted, he was a bit larger then the Prince, but then something sparkling at his waist caught the brute's attention. He released his hold on Aurora when he realized there was a large sword attached to the man's waist. "Whoa, you know what…I'll find someone else…someone in my class. Sorry, uh, sir!" The man slipped away into the crowd.
Phillip let out a huff as he watched the other fellow disappear. "Pig."
Aurora looked up to him in curiosity. "What was that?"
A smile cracked on his face. She had finally spoken. "He thought you were just a pretty face, and wanted to take you home. When he saw the size of my sword, he had second thoughts."
"What did he mean by, 'in my own class'?"
"Only nobles, knights, and royals carry swords this size. Now come on, let's not get separated from your aunts."
The final stretch went much the same as earlier. Phillip kept a keener eye on the populace and a firmer hand on his beloved. Aurora traveled with her cloak drawn tight, eyes riveted to the ground. Finally, they passed through the threshold to the castle and veered off to west wing.
"Aren't we going to the throne room?" Phillip questioned Flora.
"No, not until the sun sets." The Prince looked to the west and noticed the sphere was maybe a good hour before setting. "She'll stay in her room until we can present her."
Phillip dipped his head in understanding.
Inside the castle, stately guards stood watch at the entrance. They moved to the side when they saw the fairies. Eyes widened slightly when they saw the fair lady follow behind, assuming it was Aurora, and then the looks turned inquisitive on Phillip. He simply flashed them a smile and continued on. The group stole up the stairs and down a hallway, the fairies glancing every which way. Everything looked good.
"This way…" Flora beckoned as she opened the door. "In here dear." Aurora obediently came inside, not bothering to look around the room. "Lock the door Merryweather! Fauna, pull the drapes!"
Then she guided Aurora to sit at a ornate bureau. "Now, if you'll just sit here dear…this one last gift, dear child, for thee…"
The fairies worked their magic, and out of thin air, they produced a perfect little crown. "A symbol of thy royalty…A crown to wear in grace and beauty…tis thy rite, and royal duty." She placed the headdress delicately on her hempen locks. Phillip's heart ached at the beauty reflected in the mirror. Then, as she gazed upon herself, Aurora collapsed into her arms, sobbing once again.
"Come along dears, let's give her a few moments alone."
In the hall, Phillip relaxed minutely when Merryweather locked the door behind her.
"Come on, let's go set the facts straight with your father." Fauna spoke up.
Instantly, his anxiety came back at full force. He straightened his cape. "We might as well. Today is about Aurora, so the sooner we get this settled, the better." Then he hurried off to the throne room.
King Stefan was in a state of anxiety much like Phillip. He was preparing to meet his daughter for the first time in sixteen years. How would she receive him? Could she even love him, after never knowing him? These ideas tumbled around as he paced the floor.
"Darling, please come take a seat, you're only making yourself sick." The queen spoke up.
"She's right, you know." King Hubert spoke up, sipping on some wine. "Worrying will not change a thing."
Stefan fell into his throne. "You're both right of course, I just can't help it."
At that moment, the three fairies and Phillip entered the room. King Stefan stood to greet them. "Flora, Fauna, Merryweather! It's so wonderful to see you. But where is Aurora?"
"She's resting." Flora provided. "Finding out who she really is came as quite the shock."
King Stefan nodded in understanding. Being the wise ruler he was, he didn't doubt this would happen. "The poor girl will surely be confused and frustrated for a while, but we'll help her ease into things." He affirmed.
"And who is this young man?" The queen asked, striding up to her husband's side.
"Introduce yourself." Flora gestured Phillip forward.
"Your majesties," He bowed, "I hope this does not come as too much of a shock, but I am-…"
"Phillip…" King Hubert interrupted. "My boy…" He pushed passed the two royals to grasp his sons arms, shoulder, face everything, just make sure he was there. "Is that really you?"
"Yes father…" His voice was a little choked up. "I wasn't dead like everyone thought. Merely cursed, by Maleficent."
"Good heavens!" The queen exasperated. "She got you too?!"
"Yes, to prevent me from breaking the spell on Aurora." He stopped. All at once, his foolishness hit him in the face and he fell silent.
"Phillip?" The king asked, trying to get his attention.
"Excuse me, I-I forgot something…" Without another word, he took off running back to Aurora's room.
"Phillip!" Merryweather called after. But he didn't heed any attention. He thundered through the halls, passing alarmed guards and servants.
"How could I have been so foolish?" He berated himself as he clamored up the stairs. "A locked door and closed drapes aren't going to stop that witch!" He came to the hall and sprinted to the door, grasping the handle. To his dismay, it was locked tight.
"Aurora, It's me, Phillip!" He called knocking on the wood.
There was no reply.
"ROSE!" He cried.
In reply, the haunting voice of a siren sang, "Aurora..."
Mortified, he rammed his shoulder hard into the door. Over and over he slammed himself into the wood before it came off it's hinges. He rushed into the room to see his beloved Princess disappearing down a hallway that had not been there earlier.
"Rose! Oh why did we leave her alone?" The fairies cried finally catching up with the prince. As he ran to stop her, a wall formed at the threshold of the passage. It was transformed into a fireplace. Phillip's furious fists wailed on the stone, pleading them to open.
"Stand back!" Flora commanded before sending a barrage of magic at the wall. The four charged as soon as it was gone.
"Rose! Rose...Rose..." Their voices echoed as they each traveled different ways. "Where are you?!...Where are you...Where are you?"
Phillip's heart thundered in his chest as he raced through the labyrinthine corridors. His ears were tuned to the sound of her clicking heels on the stone. He turned and listened, and faintly, he heard it. From a serpentine staircase that rose high into the castle. A faint green light illuminated the corridor. He could hear every terrifying note in that enchantress' spell.
"Aurora…"
"Rose!…Rose…Rose…" The fairies called out again. "Don't touch anything!…Anything…Anything…"
Finally, he saw her shadow against the wall, her hand reaching out.
"Touch the spindle, touch it I say." Maleficent's nefarious voice cut through the air.
He broke through the brink just in time to see her fingers mere centimeters from the spindle.
"NOO!" Phillip shouted as he lunged, sweeping her hand away from the threat and drawing her into his arms. He wasted no time in pulling her up, but simply scooped her legs up with one arm and barreled out of the room.
As he scrambled down the steps, he could hear Maleficent's indignant howls of ferocity screaming behind him. Whatever trance Aurora was under had not yet been broken as Aurora reached out for Maleficent.
"I found her!" Phillip called, coming up on the exit. "Get out! Now!"
"Phillip?" Aurora finally asked, coming out of her stupor.
"I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…" He pleaded as he burst into the main room. "You're under a curse. We should have…I should have told you…"
Three colored lights came out of the tunnel before the entrance was sealed once again. Still not feeling safe, the Prince continued into the hall.
"What kind of curse?" The Princess gripped his shirt.
"On the day of your christening, Maleficent cursed you in anger from not being invited. Before the sun set tonight, you were supposed to prick your finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel…and then die."
Aurora went still as a grave when she realized how close to death she had been.
"But," he continued, "Merryweather altered the curse. Instead of death, you would meet sleep, only to be awakened by true love's kiss."
"Why couldn't you just kiss me?"
He halted. Did she just say that? Did that mean…? He looked down to her face, so full of trust and love, but now was not the time. He said nothing, but pulled her close so he could hold her.
The group bolted into the throne room, and Phillip set Aurora down. There was no sign of Maleficent.
"Why did you bring her here?" Merryweather whispered to the Prince. "It's not any safer."
"I don't know. More people watching I guess. Where else were we supposed to go?"
She shrugged. He had her on that one.
Aurora saw her parents and was immediately filled with love. The looks on their faces were of loneliness and longing. She ran to her mother, threw her arms around her neck, and kissed her. "Oh mother! My beautiful mother!" She cried.
The queen was speechless as happy tears came from her eyes. The king hugged both the girls and petted Aurora's sunshine hair.
As the reunion was taking place, Hubert stepped over to Phillip. "I see how it is. Can't be without her for a minute, can you? She's really something special, isn't she? Even more beautiful then I could have imagined."
Phillip was only half paying attention. He took glances about the room and grasped his sword, ready for attack.
"My boy, what's on your mind? You should be celebrating! What are you so worried about?"
"Maleficent."
As if he had summoned her, there was a sudden flash of lightening in the middle of the hall. Green flames sprouted from the ground and a tall shadow began to grow.
Aurora ran back to Phillip to find solace in his arms.
Maleficent looked over the crowd, specifically the royals. "My my, it's been sixteen long years. They've been kind to you, your majesties."
Neither the King nor Queen uttered a word.
"And you." Maleficent narrowed her eyes on Phillip. "You've finally grown into your shoes."
Phillip glared hard in response.
"Oh dear, if looks could kill." She grasped the orb on top of her staff. "You thought that you could stop my spell that's been in place for sixteen years?" She smiled sickly. "You clever little boy! Breaking your curse and preventing the Princess' to come true. How very clever indeed. I congratulate you." She gestured to the window, where the setting sun could be seen. He didn't look. As the last light disappeared into the horizon, she raised her hands. "You've won." Then she brought the end of her staff to crack the marble floor. "SIXTEEN YEARS! I've waited all this time for my revenge! I even went to great lengths to make sure you wouldn't interfere! Well, make a fool of me will you? Now, both of your curses shall come true! And true love's kiss will do nothing to save you!"
"No!" Phillip cried as he grasped Aurora fiercely.
"Stuck in forever dreams that are never sweet,
Within a feathered cage your heart shall beat.
With power of storm and might of thunder,
I curse you to an avian form and eternal slumber!"
Phillip felt the rippling pain shooting into his body before Aurora's head lulled back and she collapsed against him. He gently laid her on the ground as he fought back the pain. He grasped her hand and held tight until his transformation was complete. As a tiny bird, he fluttered over and pecked Aurora on the lips. Absolutely nothing happened.
Maleficent cackled madly. "All that work for nothing!" She taunted.
"Seize her!" The king shouted in vain, but the witch had already erupted into flames and vanished. Her laughter echoing in the void she left behind.
The king and queen both knelt by their beloved daughter, afraid to touch her. The crowd in the hall was silent in mourning.
"So," Hubert said looking down at his son. "That was the curse?"
Phillip flicked his tail, a gesture to mean yes. The little bird hopped over to his princess and nudged her cheek with his feathery head. A large tear collected on his cheek as he felt ashamed. He was supposed to protect her. He was supposed to break the spell. And yet, here they were, cursed forever.
The queen stretched out a hand towards Phillip, but he didn't acknowledge it. "It will be alright dear. Don't blame yourself, we all know you did your best."
No, he didn't. And it filled him with disgust. He nudged his beloved, praying for her forgiveness.
Regret would solve nothing, he understood, and he turned all of his regret, disgust, shame, and sorrow into rage. While the royals and fairies fretted over Aurora, he burrowed under his cape that still lay on the floor.
"Phillip?" Merryweather questioned.
As he had hoped, his sword had shrunk as he did. He grasped it in his talons, burst from the cloak, and soared off toward the windows.
"Phillip! No, stop!" Flora cried, sensing his anger, but she was too late. The prince was gone.
On wards he flew, fighting wind and rain. A storm was brewing, no doubt being caused by Maleficent's pride of victory. His little wings beat rapidly until he could get to the forest for cover. Once there, the canopy provided a bit of protection, but he kept up his harsh pace.
Other animals and birds called to him, begging him to hide, to turn back, but heeded them not. He only had one thought in his mind:
Killing the witch that ruined his life.
Soon, he came upon the thorny bushes that vaulted into a tunnel, acting as a walkway to the castle. Phillip swooped through the barbs and soared under the drawbridge. He kept low, out of sight from guards and Diablo. He circled the castle once and heard music and shouting from a window. What he found inside terrified him.
The devils that had tormented him during his captivity were dancing in circles around a hellish green fire in a great hall. Their shadows projected on the wall as black figures, utterly bizarre. Above it all was Maleficent, sitting on her throne like the devil himself.
Phillip tucked himself into the window sill to stay out of sight, but kept his eyes glued to the wicked witch. She smiled, amused, softly stroking her raven. She looked like a fat cat that had just hungrily devoured a rat. Phillip sneered at her smug face.
After about an hour went by, she finally stood. Her sharp voice echoed off the walls so that even he could hear it.
"Well my pet, it's been quite the day." She grinned. "I shall retire for the night…and for the first time in sixteen years, I shall sleep well."
'I beg to differ.' The Prince thought with malice. His eyes followed her heinous form as she left the hall. Gliding from window to window, he watched Maleficent ascend to a high tower and close the door. She abandoned Diablo outside, he noticed.
Inside the tower window, he saw a green light ignite, and he waited in the shadows. Breathless moments went by as he kept watch, barely even blinking. Diablo had fallen asleep, and then finally, the green light went out. His chest rapidly beat as his patience was tested. He had to wait until she was asleep, or his plan, if you could call it that, would never work. He closed his eyes and breathed heavy for as long as he could bare.
Silently, the vengeful Prince swooped up to the tower where his enemy laid, unaware. His sword clutched tight in his talons, he peered into the dark room, only illuminated by the faint starlight. He slipped through the bars and spotted her on the bed, lying still, her arms at her sides. As soon as his eyes landed on her muted green skin, his heart burst with excitement. Utter and complete hatred blazed in his eyes. It would only take a moment. His nose flared and as if he was moving thorough water, his blade slit through her cloak, into her throat.
Instantly, the witch was awake, grasping her wound and breathing hard. He had missed her carotid artery and jugular vein, but punctured her trachea.
"You…you disgusting creature!" She hissed with a fading voice. "I'll show you!" She raised her hand and instantly, he was filled once again with a familiar pain. Maleficent had lifted the curse on him! He was transforming back into a human.
Once again, he reclaimed his human form. He found Maleficent kneeling by her bed, struggling with a long and painful death. He could see the red stain on her hand.
She spoke again. "There, your petty little curse is lifted. But good luck trying to leave here like that! There's no way out!"
"Maleficent," He addressed her in a dignified manner. "Why?"
"Why…what?" She hissed.
"Why do you hate us? Why did you curse us? Just because you weren't invited?"
"No you simpleton!" She coughed. "It's much bigger then that! It's always been more...I'm not so finicky to be obsessed over something so frivolous...I was once Aurora. Blessed with beauty and wit…loved by everyone…but I was cursed, by a jealous fairy. A fairy of all! I was faced with a hundred years of slumber, or to be awakened by true love's kiss…" She slipped farther towards the floor as her voice became even more faint. "I had my prince. My love…but he never came. A hundred years passed and I awoke in an abandoned castle…only to find that he had married another wench and the family now ruled my kingdom…"
Phillip listened, fascinated as everything began to make sense.
"With nothing else to lose…I sold my soul to the devil and decided to wreck havoc over that traitorous family."
"And Stefan…?"
"Is the great grandchild of my forgotten lover."
Phillip stood in silence as this new information rolled over in his head.
"Now you know…but it doesn't matter. You will die in your escape from this place...and Aurora will sleep forever…I win…" With a final breath, her head rolled back on the stone. Phillip watched in trauma as her body slowly evaporated from the floor, leaving nothing but her cloak.
All at once, the adrenaline from the last few hours dissipated and he found himself on his knees, stifling his sobs with his hands. He, a Prince, was a murderer. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the guilt. It had to be done. Aurora would have died if he hadn't. But nothing could change the fact that he had just killed the most powerful person on the earth. His sword sat mere feet away, returned to normal size, but completely black with sin.
He clasped his hands together in a desperate prayer, "Oh Holy Father…please forgive me for what I have done! Sendest away this guilt and pardon my shame, for my rage and vehement self-righteousness drove me to this act…Please Father…Please forgive me…" In his sorrow, the black film of his weapon disintegrated and the sword was restored.
He finished his prayer, a peace falling over him. Now the boy was instilled with a new resolve, to prove Maleficent wrong. He would escape, and he would find a way to break the spell over Aurora. But how, was the question. He was in the tallest, most highly guarded area of the whole castle. He had a weapon, but no shield. He was also very naked. He could try to sneak out, seeing that Diablo was asleep, but as he peered out of the window of the door, he saw a guard not too far away, stalking back and forth.
Going to the other window, he examined the way he came. The walls of the castle were steep and slick, and after the base, the foundation curved inward and continued down into darkness. As far as he could tell, the only way of this island-like castle was the draw bridge. If that was it, he would need some sort of disguise. Well, some form of clothes for that matter. He looked around the room and found the bed that Maleficent had been asleep on, with black covers. Maybe he could use them as a cloak to hide? He rifled through her bureau drawers only to find some unmentionables and other trinkets he could only assume were evil. It was looking to be hopeless.
Then he spotted her vestment on the floor, and her staff next to her bed. He gathered the black and violet cloth and studied it. It was stretchy, and thick. Besides the neck, it was in good repair. As much as he couldn't believe what he was doing, he slipped the garment over his head, finding it to fit surprisingly well. An insane idea popped into his head, it was just a matter of time to pull off his trick.
Phillip looked over the items on Maleficent's dresser once again. He applied some sort of black powder under his eyes, to give him the illusion of darkness, much like the witch had. Finally, he adjusted his collar and raised his chin. It could work. It had to work. He grabbed the staff from the wall and tucked his sword into the folds of the robe. He took a deep breath and opened the door proudly.
The motion caught the attention of the guard down the hall. He blurted gibberish and ran at him with spear lowered.
"Halt your attack, you fool!" The disguised prince pointed.
The goblin indeed stopped and looked at him confused. Diablo fluttered to wakefulness and squawked at the intruder.
Phillip raised his hand gracefully to the bird. "My pet," he mimicked, "even you have fallen for my disguise."
Diablo obeyed the gesture and hopped on his arm, up to his shoulder.
"M-my lady!" The wicked creature stuttered.
"Never mind, go on with your business." He waved the guard away.
Phillip continued through the castle, slowly in a saunter as he had seen Maleficent travel. As he passed the minions, each one looked in awe, but said nothing. They saw the cloak, the staff, and the raven; it had to be Maleficent.
He reached the throne room where hundreds of ghouls were still dancing and drinking. The celebration stopped as he delved deeper.
"Pay no attention to me." He raised the staff. "Today is a day of celebration, I expect no less of you then to be in the loutish manner that you are."
A pig man spoke up, "My lady…?"
"Ah yes, my form. An idea struck me in my sleep. One last piece of my plan is yet to be put in place!" He made a fist. "I shall set off tonight, and be prepared to meet Stefan in the morning!"
The minions turned to each other and shrugged, deciding that Maleficent could do whatever she wanted after all.
Just when the Prince reached the threshold of guards, the first goon that he had run into bolted into the room. "The Mistress has been killed! Her blood is all over her bed and the floor! Kill the intruder!" He pointed a grisly finger at the Prince.
Phillip had just enough time to withdraw his sword before the small army was upon him. They swung clubs, axes, and maces. Spears and arrows flew past his head and stabbed his body. Even Diablo pecked harshly at his head. He fended off many attackers with his sword, whirling it around, and he deflected on onslaught of strikes with the staff, flailing it about. He was inundated though, beaten from all sides. The Prince despaired as he felt blood from his multiplying wounds soaking into his cloak. Maleficent was right…he would die here.
While he fought, the end of the staff careened through the air and hit a stone pillar with a crack. The onslaught of assault stopped instantly. Phillip looked to the faces of the ghouls to see them staring in terror at the staff. He observed it too, to find a large crack in the glass orb.
"Give us the staff…and we'll let you walk out of here." One spoke up.
That was a lie if he had ever heard one. Instead, he gripped the rod tightly. "Not on your life." And he sent it viciously down to shatter on the ground.
Like a giant tremor, he was over taken by a great power, burning down into his bones. His hair stood on end and he smelt his flesh burning. Lighting had struck and coursed through him, the bearer of the staff. As soon as it had come, it was gone, leaving him lying breathless on the floor.
Once he gained his strength, he sat up and looked around. He was now surrounded by gargoyles. Mere statues of the beasts he had been fighting. Each held a face of terror as their eyes glued to the staff. Then a rumble erupted, shaking the castle. With the magic in Maleficent's staff released, the fortress was beginning to collapse. Hurriedly, he targeted the exit and ran as fast as he feet would carry him.
He bolted over the draw bridge right as the castle gate rolled shut, then the inside towers collapsed in on themselves. Phillip dove to the solid ground of the mountain before looking back. He sat under the arch of the thorns. All that was left of the gruesome castle was a pile of rubble. Slowly, a fog rolled in and hid the remains from sight.
The bloody prince lay on his back, exhausted and fighting for breath. The branches above him sprouted to life with beautiful white roses. Maleficent's magic had finally wore off, he supposed.
He strained, but sat up, looking back to Stephen's castle, were the sun would rise in a few hours. Aurora would be awakening from her curse now, now that there was no magic left. He supposed he should get back…but it was so far! With soft sigh, he remembered the cottaged about half way, and aimed to recuperate there.
He tucked the sword back into his cloak, and used the broken staff as a walking stick. Now that the gremlins and the witch had been defeated, the forest seemed a lot less penetrating, even in the dark of the night. The prince ambled along, knowing the woods relatively well by now.
As he traveled, he heard the crunching of twigs behind him. He looked, only to find a deer with great horns staring back at him.
"This isn't my cloak," he provided in his second language, "I stole it."
The deer seeming understood and came closer to the human, walking with him. Phillip came to appreciate the animalistic connection he had with the woods. If not for anything else, at least he had company.
Not too long after the deer, a snowy owl glided over head, swooped around and perched peacefully on the buck's antlers. The prince was stunned. Was it just because he had once been apart of the forest? Maybe, or maybe they could sense the deed he had just completed. It was evident to anything with a good sense of smell; he reeked of blood. This was their way of thanking him for ridding their home of the greatest threat.
The buck and owl stayed with him all the way to the cottage. Then, the deer curled up outside and waited while the owl flew off to continue it's hunt.
Inside, Phillip peeled the rancid robe from were it stuck thickly to his skin. He winced as the forming scabs ripped off and he began to bleed anew. He left the cloak in a pile on the floor. Then he went to lighting candles and a fire in the fireplace. As he turned, he caught his image in the mirror, and paused. The boy didn't recognize himself, not with all the blood. Horrified, he stepped closer to observe the damage, he knew it was bad, he could feel it, but seeing it all made the pain sink in. He winced as a sharp sting shot up his leg. Lodged in his calf was an arrowhead. Immediately he felt weak and fell down to one knee, but he quickly recovered, motivating himself to help himself. He scavenged the cottage, looking for whatever he could use, such as old fabrics and a bottle of distilled vinegar. To his delight, half a loaf of bread had been left on the counter. He added that to his pile and took a seat in front of the fire.
He took the fire poker and placed it on the coals to heat up. As much as he didn't want to, he knew he would have to use it. First, he started with the arrow head. Carefully, he wiggled the jagged stone free and pulled it. Once the wound was opened, it seemed to hurt so much more! He took one of the fabrics, dosed it with vinegar, and held it to the wound. It burned, but he held fast. Phillip could feel his head already swimming, and he wasn't nearly done treating his wounds. Regardless, he tied the cloth tight and prepared to clean the rest of his wounds.
He managed to cleanse his skin from the staining fluid before he had to lay on his back. Phillip watched the flickering flames as his heart pulsed in his ears and he saw spots. All he wanted to do was close his eyes and wake up healed, with Aurora in his arms. But he knew that wasn't going to happen. He just had to tough it out.
He ate some more bread before going to work again. This time he got through wrapping some of his lesser wounds before he vomited. He felt sore even leaning back on his arms, the pain was so intense. Maleficent had made sure the effects of the spell were lasting, and they sure were. He knew he wasn't going to last much longer, but one thing needed to be done before he could consider going back. He had to cauterize five lacerations. The worst was in his leg, were the arrow had pierced through, another, on his chest, dangerously close to his heart. He could feel two very large lesions on his back, but those would have to wait. Two wounds lie on his stomach, crossing over each other, and the final injury was on his head. He was unsure were it was exactly, but the blood from it persisted down his cheek. It took many long moments for the prince to gain the courage to grab the poker, and when he did, it shook in his hand. Whether from weakness or fear, he was unsure. Carefully, he pressed the smoldering metal onto his skin, wincing as it sizzled. Really, it wasn't the most painful thing he had experienced this night, but there was nothing else to focus on. He pulled the iron away, unsure if he had really done it right. The skin was white and looked to have stopped bleeding. Content with his job, he tied a cold wet bandage on the burn to soothe it.
There were only four more to go.
The others followed suit as the first, seemingly more painful the closer he came to his head. Finally, he looked at his bloody hairline and couldn't find the strength to cauterize the hidden wound. Instead, he dressed it with two layers, one with a vinegar saturated cloth, the other, a dry cloth, tied tight. Now he was ready.
But then, the strength to stand was gone as he laid on his side, his eyes closed. Oh how he was tired. He kept telling himself to get up, that his quest wasn't over, but just thinking about moving made him sore.
He laid a moment, thoughtless, breathing deeply. The image of Aurora focused in his mind. She was stepping down the stairs in her sapphire dress, her sunshine hair was still slightly mused from her slumber. A look of anxiety was on her face.
"Where is Phillip?" She asked, looking to each of the royals.
"He hasn't come back yet."
"Come back? Where has he gone?"
"Well, seeing as the curse on you has been lifted..." King Hubert answered, "I suppose he went to see Maleficent."
"As a bird?! Why, he could have been killed!"
The Queen stepped up and held her daughter. "Oh darling, don't fret! If the curse has been lifted, he must have been successful!"
"I can only fear the worst…" Tears slowly rolled down her cheeks. "He would be so vulnerable when he changed back! I just can't imagine him being okay…"
Even in his imagination, her tears stabbed him to his core. Phillip clenched his teeth and sat up. He would go back, but not like this. He made his way over to the chest where his borrowed clothes had been kept. Most articles had been returned to the Padre, but a pair of black pantaloons and a white tunic remained. Unfortunately, there was nothing for his feet, but he didn't mind. He strapped the sword back onto his waist with a leather belt, and used the broken staff as a walking staff. He hesitated, but carried Maleficent's coat on his arm. No doubt the king would like to have it as proof that the witch was dead.
He emerged from the cottage to see the stag waiting for him. Phillip rubbed the animal's head and placed his burden upon it's back. With the absence of the arrow head from his leg, it was much more painful and difficult to walk, but he was thankful for the large deer that caught him, despite not being strong enough to carry him.
Once they reached the edge of town, the stag shook the cloak off, nudged his companion, and turned back to the woods.
As Phillip walked into the town, he noticed that lanterns hung in the windows of the cottages down Main Street, even though it was late into the night. He couldn't help but think it was for him. The metal staff clinked upon the cobblestone road, and it sounded loud and obnoxious to him. A little ways into town, a guard spotted him and ran to his aid.
"Are you the Prince Phillip?"
"Yes," he answered in a haggard voice.
"Don't worry, we'll get you to the castle." Then he whistled.
From the dark streets came the clomping of horse hooves. At first, he thought it was another of the king's men, but then he noticed the pattern of the steps. A white stallion with a black mane raced into the lantern light towards his owner.
"Samson!" Tears welled up in the young man eyes as the horse ecstatically jumped around him, whinnying happily. Phillip dropped his trophies and held out his arms. The horse walked to him and nudged him with his head.
"I missed you too, buddy." He hugged the animal's neck and petted his silky pelt.
"Your majesty," one of the guards coughed.
Phillip looked to his steed, who was ready to be ridden. He stepped on the stirrup, but wasn't able to mount do to how weak he was. The guards caught him and helped him, Samson tugging on his tunic from the other side. Samson took off in a race to the castle, but slowly when he found his rider clinging to his neck.
"Keep going." He urged. "It's been along time, that's all." He lied. Even so, the horse rushed the Prince through the town.
At the castle gate, the guards let him pass without slowing down. The main door opened and the prince slid down carefully, while Samson helped him balance on his feet.
"Stay here, okay?" He pet his muzzle.
Samson nuzzled his face and let him go.
Phillip's steps were unsteady and hard to watch, yet he refused any help. He had come this far, he could make it.
In the throne room, the scene wasn't exactly as he had been expecting. Stefan sat with his head in his hands. His own father sat on his right, half asleep, and empty wine bottle at his feet. And the queen sat daintily with her head down, asleep. As soon as he entered the room, Stefan blinked up at him.
"Ah! My boy! You've made it!" He stood to greet him, but Phillip knelt instead.
"Your highness," he raised the cloak and staff in his hands. "I bring Maleficent's vestment and staff as proof of her demise...and also as repentance for my failure to protect the Princess."
King Stefan took the items from his outstretched hands and handed them to a servant. "Phillip, we are just glad you are alright. You have gone above an beyond anything we expected you to do. I can never repay you for this." He clapped his hand and pulled him into a embrace.
"Where is Aurora?" He asked, his guilt not moved.
By this time, the queen had awoken and had moved towards he husband's side. "Why, we moved her to the south tower, to sleep."
This alarmed him. "She's still asleep? But I lifted the curse! She was supposed to wake up!" He stood and started towards the tower, stumbling. Yet again, servants tried to help him up, but he pushed away from them, not saying a word. The royals followed behind silently, worried as they saw the blood seeping through his shirt. The queen sent for a healer, hoping that Phillip wouldn't refuse medical treatment as well.
Phillip took the last steps to the tower and pushed through the threshold. He stopped, broken. He sank to his knees, his eyes never leaving his bride.
"It cannot be."
Aurora lay still as a grave, the color from her features gone as in death. Yet, in his eyes, she was painfully beautiful, and tears fell from his cheeks.
The three fairies stood opposite of him, surprised at his sudden appearance. "Phillip…your injured…" Flora whispered.
"It doesn't matter." His voice was hollow. He abruptly sent his battered fists onto the ground. "No! No! NO!" He screamed as his eyes flooded with sorrow. "The only thing I've wanted in life! For the last four years, I've striven to keep this from happening! Even in death, Maleficent still won! She still won…" He lowered his head to mourn. "And I've lost Aurora forever…"
Fauna approached him and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Phillip, don't give up yet." She urged.
"What?"
"We altered the spell, just like when she was a babe. True love's kiss may still work."
Hearing that, Phillip stood and went to his Princess. He sat at the edge of her bed and looked at her dollish appearance. Scared, he reached out and touched her cheek with his stained fingers. The royals gathered at the door and watched in apprehension.
"My darling," he whispered. "We've come so far. Forgive me for allowing this to fall upon you, and if you do awake…I promise to love you forever."
Delicately, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers in a sweet caress. His nose brushed against hers and he marveled in how utterly soft they seemed. He pulled back and waited, unable to breathe.
Slowly, her eyes flickered open. She was fogged with confusion, only for a moment. "Phillip…" Her silky voice sang.
"Rose…" He breathed. Then he fell forward and laid against her chest.
She chuckled and held him, thinking that it was a gesture of relief. Then she felt a wetness on his back. "Phillip? Are you alright?"
He didn't answer, as he had passed out.
"Healer! He needs a healer!" She cried as she sat up and turned him over so that his head rested on her lap. She then noticed the bandage on his head.
The King and Queen approached the bed. "We've sent for a healer already, all we can do is wait."
She played with his hair as she spoke, "What happened? Why is he in this condition?"
The King answered, "He has slain Maleficent. After the curse set in, he flew out the window. Many hours passed, but when he came back, he presented her cloak and staff…and then demanded to see you."
"Oh Phillip!" She cried, holding him closer.
"The healer is here." A servant opened the door and let a man in.
"Oh thank goodness!" The queen sighed.
"If the majesties wouldn't mind leaving the room…" He spoke coming up to the patient. "Except, the Princess may stay."
Many hours passed. Morning came and went. It was well into the afternoon when Phillip finally awoke. First thing he noticed was how warm he felt, and comfortable. When he opened his eyes, he found himself in a bed, a very nice bed. He was surrounded by lush purple curtains and buried deep in blankets and pillows. Movement to his side made him realize there was someone else nearby. Luckily, a wave on blonde hair set him ease in a moment.
"Hello." The Princess smiled tracing the side of his face gently.
He smiled. "This seems familiar. Have we done this before?"
"A few days ago, yes. But I believe this time you are in worse shape then before."
He attempted to sit up, but only fell back to the bed in pain. "That is absolutely true."
"Where are you sore?"
"All over." He simpered. "I don't think there is anything you can do to help."
She slid his arm out from under the blankets and massaged his wrist and fingers. "Nothing?"
He grinned at her cheekiness. "I may have been wrong."
She then moved her hands down to his forearm and kneaded his muscles, but she was gentle because of his wounds. He looked at her endearingly as she traveled to his shoulders.
Phillip winced as a throb went through his head.
"Oh, I'm sorry, did that hurt?"
"No, it's my head…I think I got hit with something." He touched the tender spot.
Aurora placed a kiss on his injury. "Better?"
"Yeah…but, my forehead hurts."
She grinned and pecked his skin.
"And my eye, right here." He pointed.
Again she delivered a kiss to his brow.
"And my cheek…"
A kiss.
"…and my lips…"
Her ebony lashes lowered as a tender look came over her. Her digits brushed the sensitive skin of his mouth as her head tilted just a little to the side. Phillip's eyes closed in respond to the sensual touch and his own fingers curled around the fabric of her dress.
It was a simple touch at first, barely even a brush. Then the caress grew stronger as their desire for intimacy flourished. Phillip's hands tangled in her hempen locks as Aurora braced herself against his brazen skin. The warmth of two breathes melding…two hearts beating, finally love had found a way.
They hesitantly broken away, but they're foreheads remained close.
"I love you." Phillip whispered.
"I love you too." Her voice was warm and tender as she intertwined their hands together. "You've waited long enough to hear that, have you not?"
"I would wait forever." He answered earnestly. "For you have my heart, and will hold it always."
"As you have mine."