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2014-06-30
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Intuition (or 5 Reasons Diaval Hates King Stefan)

Summary:

Diaval hated Stefan the moment he saw him, and it only got stronger from there.

Notes:

This goes in a series of oneshots I've going on FF but I liked this one especially and wanted to bring it over here on its own. My first AO3 fic!
Enjoy!

Work Text:

1. Because he was a thief.

Diaval hated Stefan from the first moment he had seen him, at the glittering coronation in the human castle. He guessed this man had angered his mistress somehow - why else would he be asked to watch him? But he knew nothing of the details or of the situation.

It was a subconscious thing, that hate. An instinct. Ravens knew what hawks looked like, knew the thieving look in their eye. Knew, intuitively, this one was dangerous. This one was not to be trusted. He would destroy your nests, kill your nestlings – the best action was to mob one, drive him away from your home. Though a human through and through, Diaval could not shake the feeling that underneath it all King Stefan was no different than a hawk.

Of course, he had no unkindness to help him, and even if he did a human hawk in a nest made of stone and glass would be far harder to mob.

Maleficent’s reaction to the coronation only served to cement Diaval’s hatred. A hawk, a thief, indeed. Paying for his crown with the suffering of another. Her fury burned cold, turning to a hardened determination and desire for revenge and he thought perhaps they would be able to drive off the thieving king, after all.


 2. Because she loved him.

He had hesitated to tell his mistress about the baby. Her reaction to Stefan’s ascension to the throne had been so much, a burst of violent energy, anger and hatred radiating off of her. It had cooled since, never faded, but at least Diaval could be near her without feeling scorched.

Her reaction to the newborn princess was different. Diaval had watched his mistress carefully, awaited the explosion. But none came. Instead, he saw the pain, pain that had been hidden behind anger before, so stark in her bright eyes. Even more so because she was trying to hide it, trying not to feel this new level of betrayal, this idea that the man who had already hurt her so much still held power over her to hurt her more. He crippled her, grounded her forever, broken her trust and her heart, and still Diaval knew in that moment, she still loved him.

And for that, Diaval hated him all the more. 


 3. Because he’s Aurora’s father.

Diaval adored the child. He hadn’t meant to; he had meant only to do what his mistress asked of him. Watch the little beastie, keep her from dying before her sixteenth year. But he could not continue to feed her, rock her and care for her without some affection creeping in.

And he knew Maleficent cared, too, although she showed it differently. A softening in her expression, the more magical acts of soothing fevers or rescuing from cliff-edges, culminating in the nightly visits to the Moors. In the hurt she showed as he comforted her when they found it to be impossible to revoke the curse.

They had quarreled not long ago, his mistress saying she would never remove the curse – still claiming to hate Aurora due only to her relationship to the king.

Diaval understood that, in his own way. He, too, hated Aurora’s relationship with Stefan. He hated that this sunny, lovely young girl belonged to that hawk. That, should the curse succeed or fail, there was still a chance that she would be returned to him. That Diaval’s nestling might be stolen from him. That his Maleficent might lose the one happiness she had allowed herself. 


4. Because he had fallen in love with her. 

Like his love for Aurora, Diaval hadn’t planned on the feelings he had for his mistress. But just like with Aurora, his feelings didn’t seem to care.

He loved her. He loved her and he hated that he could not let himself love her, for her sake. He loved her and in his love for her he felt her pain as if for the first time. He had hated Stefan enough for the pain he had caused the innocent faerie. But now, now it was more personal, and so much worse to hear her in agonized nightmares – still scarred from a betrayal over ten years passed.

Diaval hated Stefan because Stefan had had Maleficent’s love, unguarded, had her heart, trusting and full. The hawk of a man had taken the love of the magnificent, beautiful faerie, the kind of love that Diaval would have given anything to receive – and would never receive – and torn it apart.

He hated Stefan because he knew, intuitively, that Maleficent did love him, too. He knew it in the way she listened to him, teased him, let her mask of cold indifference slip in his presence. He consoled himself in this; that he was more than a raven, a servant. He understood the pain that had been dealt to her, that it was amazing enough that she had allowed Aurora into her injured heart. Never would Diaval blame her for that.

The blame belonged to the one who wronged her, and Diaval intended to hate him for the rest of his life.


 5. Because sometimes he doesn’t.

It was a cruel, selfish thought, that tended to sneak up on him on restless nights. Nights when his mistress has had a night terror, or not bothered sleeping at all, wandering the moors alone, forbidding him to follow her. The rare order meant she was more shaken, more upset than she would let even him see. Diaval considered following her more than once, but, unlike some, he intended to keep her trust.

He would try to think of something else, something small or trivial, something unrelated to how he loved her, how he would do anything at all to comfort her, give anything to be with her for the rest of his days.

If it had not been for Stefan, he would never have met her.

That is, if it had not been for Maleficent’s need for wings, he likely would be dead in a farmer’s net. He hadn’t truly joined into an unkindness of his own at the time; would anyone noticed one less raven? Would anyone have cared? Diaval doubted it. And even so, even if he had managed to avoid angry farmers with angrier dogs… he had been human too long now, the idea of living as a raven the rest of his life – no Maleficent, no Aurora – it hurt to imagine it.

Diaval hated that he was almost grateful – grateful for the injury done to his mistress, his love, for his own selfish desire to be near her.

If not for Stefan he wouldn’t have met Maleficent, and he swore two things: he would never forgive the hawk for the pain he had caused her, and he would use knowing her to heal her, comfort her, love her properly, everyday that she kept him at her side.