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Chapter Text

On that day, as the servants finished adding the latest touches to her royal dress, Ingrith looked into the mirror and smiled. It was not a forced smile, nor a sad smile. It was a sincere, genuine, honest and kind smile. Like the ones she gave to her people whenever it was necessary to calm them down, or the ones she gave to her son every time he got hurt during his childhood. It was as if the smile reflected in the mirror told herself that everything was fine.

But it wasn't. And the reason was who she was receiving to dinner that night.

In addition to her husband, her son and his respective lovely bride. She would be here.

23 years after her last meeting with the sorceress.

For the first time, Ingrith was not coming to Moors.

Maleficent would come to her.

"Your Majesty is shaking, would you like some freshwater?"

The realization of the younger servant, whom the older woman treated as a daughter, awoke her from her one thoughts.

The girl's red hair loosened from her ponytail, attracting the attention of the queen, who smiled while circling a lock on her finger and smiled, disagreeing with her head.

"I'm fine... The silverware..."

"As soon as she chooses her place, the right silverware will be put where she sits..."

“Did I do well to invite her? Since..."

“Yes, Your Majesty, you did! You put the prince in front of yourself and invited Lady Maleficent for being important to your future daughter-in-law, which is why she agreed to come, regardless of what you two had in a distant past... ”

Having a confidante in the palace seemed wrong, dangerous, but after a few years and seeing all Gerda's kindness radiated, it became inevitable. The orphan girl, left in front of the castle doors, became Ingrith's favorite.

When the teeth of the owner of the royal throne began to press her lower lip in a sign of pure nervousness, the red-haired girl's nimble fingers moved towards it and touched it, as a silent request for her to stop before she hurt her own skin.

"Everything will be fine, My Queen!"

"I am happy to have you say this to me, my girl, because I was unable to convince myself!"

And with a smile on both faces, they went side by side, to the main hall.

The trumpets began to sound as soon as Aurora, Diaval and Maleficent stepped inside Ulstead's castle, but the sorceress' head was wandering, far enough from her material body to not even being able of hearing the shrill sound.

The moment the brunette found out that Phillip had proposed Aurora's hand in marriage, she swore she would pass out. Her eyes went dark, and then green, and the only thing that made sense and left her throat were words of denial.

Couldn't he be the successor to any other kingdom?

It all got worse when, after a few hours, her goddaughter appeared again, with a smile on her face, saying that the Queen of Ulstead had invited them all to dinner at her fiance's castle. Again words of denial leaped without a brake on her tongue, but Aurora's bright eyes and a firm grip by Diaval on her shoulder caused an affirmative nod to yield, even amid all the chaos in her heart.

The sound of a female voice sounded loud, presenting and indicating the arrival of guests, echoing between the icy walls of the castle, awakening Maleficent from her memories, but creating thoughts to replace it.

How would Ingrith be like after all this time? Would her blue eyes still hypnotize me? Would we exchange a touch, no matter how simple it was?

And so, when her name was introduced, the witch forced her own body into the huge hall and, even before she realized it, the same fear that shone at her core the first time she saw Ingrith — still as an unknown and curious that she did not drop her blue shell when faced with the witch — took possession of her heart and, with much effort, she focused on everyone in the room, except the older blonde.

Ingrith, on the other hand, did not look away for a second and drank all the sight that was denied her for 23 years. The brunette was as stunning as the queen remembered, although time had left visible marks.

Her angular face and pointed cheeks bathed in the usual pale skin that, for Ingrith, was more expensive than the purest alabaster, made the Queen of Ulstead's heart beat faster, even with all the high control she silently instigated. And her eyes, spheres so bright and unique, that Ingrith silently and selfishly wanted to focus with her blues, did not look at her. Not even in her presentation. Not even during dinner.

Maleficent was annoyed and angry. She did not want to, her interior wanted to exude calm and indifference, but it was impossible while the voice of the one who monopolized her heart in a way that no one else did, even if a forbidden way, sounded so soft and thoughtful just a feast away. Her wings were flapping and the witch moved uncomfortably in the chair at the dinner table each time Ingrith's voice echoed between the castle's four walls.

The blonde's voice was rare, just punctuating the conversation between the young couple in love and King John, but whenever the velvety tone was present, anger was aroused in the brunette's chest.

It annoyed Maleficent to have to look away before she even focused on the blond hair she had tangled her fingers over for years. It annoyed because Maleficent was a woman who incited fear and transmitted her anger through her eyes, just because she liked to focus on the frightened irises of those around her. But the sorceress also knew that Ingrith was not afraid of her.

The blonde was never frightened by Maleficent, not all those years ago, when they were both young and foolish, so why would she be while time made her an experienced ruler?

Ingrith would not be frightened. But the sorceress doesn't know what her own body's response would be, so she continues to focus her eyes on her meal.

She is the only one who uses silverware at the diner, both plates and cutlery made of silver. The substitution was made the moment she sat on the chair between Aurora and Diaval, by two frightened and trembling servants, even if agile, and an old thought crossed her memory.

She wouldn't hurt me.

The thought was created by Maleficent's brain the moment they bathed dinners in the Cecina River for the first time, but it turned to ashes the moment Ingrith left Mors castle, after irreparably breaking the witch's heart.

But here she was, so long afterward, offering her adequate cutlery so that no pain was caused to her. And the confusion that formed in Maleficent's chest with the conflict between her good and bad memories, further irritated the brunette.

But like a suspended storm cloud, all of Maleficent's anger evaporated at the moment that she heard a sneeze. A sneeze that she had heard years ago.

When the first sneeze is followed by two, three, four, five, she finally looks up, only to find the owner of her thoughts with her head down, crooked crown stuck in her blond hair and curled up in her chair, with two worried servants around her.

Maleficent remembered the first time she heard Ingrith sneeze. It was dizzy, and when the first was followed by others, almost unbalancing the blonde woman's legs in the middle of the geranium garden, the witch remembered the sound of her own smile as she carried the young princess on her arms away from her only allergy. The same garden that, in the early afternoon, Aurora collected flowers to decorate her hair in order to present her best appearance to the future mother-in-law.

But Maleficent's goddaughter was at her side, her eyes wide with a mixture of confusion and surprise when she looked at her fiancé's mother, and the witch knew that the pollen in the blond's hair would not fly to Ingrith. As if the mention of the young prince instigated something in her mind, the brunette ran her eyes towards him, just in time to watch him hide one of the purple flowers, originally placed in the young woman's blond hair, next to his iron cup, as far away from his mother as possible.

Maleficent felt a subtle touch at the end of her arm, and taking her eyes to her faithful attendant, she reflected the knowing smile she received.

The brunette heard Ingrith explain her allergy again and discourage Aurora, when the youngest says she would remove the geraniums from her hair. And then, as if the storm that had gone away returned to its original place, Ingrith talks about a change after the marriage of the young ones, a new home for them and they descendants in the castle and in the kingdom of Ulstead, and the Maleficent's anger grows back even bigger and more significant than before.

Aurora would leave her life for the same reason that Ingrith went, all those years ago, and, seized by adrenaline, the witch whispers harsh words without even noticing.

“Nobody leaves the place and the persons that make them happy and who loves for a crown. Aurora won't be corrupted. ”

But, even before the guilt settles in her chest — after all, Maleficent knows that they were not meant to be — her voice echoes dense and strong between the walls of the castle and it instigates an awkward silence.

There, Maleficent ignores the gaze of all those present, who monopolize all then attention on her, amid the confusion that her murmur has created, and focuses on Ingrith's face. But, that the face that the witch looks didn't focus on her eyes, because the blonde mumbles an apology and says she will head to the library in search of fresh air, justifying her inability to finish dinner with her previous allergic crisis.

And so the blonde heads towards a corridor, with her head up and hands shaking in front of her, leaving behind her husband, her son, her future daughter-in-law and Maleficent, now without any appetite.

Chapter Text

The rest of the dinner runs quietly, without any turbulence, although the witch's mind is not that lucky. 

Maleficent forces a smile towards the king as she thanks him for his hospitality and, before all the courage she has created in the last few minutes disappears between her fingers, she offers her magical skills in favor of Ingrith's allergy. She doesn't know why, but she just needs to see her, touch her, and maybe apologize to her. 

King John seems distracted and doesn't see her suffering as soon as the offer escapes between her fangs and Maleficent can see gears working in the man's mind, caught in conflicting thoughts of voices telling him that his wife's allergy is not that strong and that he needs to get more time so he can ask the sorceress what the phrase that she whispered at dinner meant. 

His kingdom is secure, graceful, and everyone takes care of each other. Why wouldn't Maleficent want her goddaughter to live there with their son? Mainly to learn to govern those lands in the future. But, perhaps the sorceress needed time. Time to get to know his lands and his citizens, to appreciate the peaceful and welcoming society that his wife has shaped as a ruler over the years, always with a firm fist and a gentle smile. 

And when the red-haired maid cautiously approaches and offers herself to show the way to Ingrith to Maleficent, the King of Ulstead just thanks the brunette for her concern before watching her walk away, escaping from his sight. 

The witch smiles nervously as she follows the red-haired girl down the hall, caught in thoughts and hypotheses for her conversation. Would Ingrith like to speak with her or would she refuse any contact? Should she leave? Or... 

"I know who you are." 

The young's voice awakens Maleficent's thoughts before it directs her to a conclusion. 

"Do you?" 

"Yes, I do." 

They keep walking, but now the girl looks nervous and, in front of an unmarked door, she turns her ankles theatrically and before leaning herself in the witch's personal space. 

"I will lock the library for... permanent privacy." 

Maleficent listens carefully and nods before stretching her shoulders. Nerves are consuming her, but she feels like she needs to do this. Her young self would never forgive her if she did not, and the thought itself supports her as she enters the great library. 

But none of the thousands of books on display attract her attention. After hearing the metallic sound of a heavy key sliding under the door, she focuses on the largest window in the room, where the woman who lives endlessly in her heart is. 

Ingrith still has her back turn to the door and consequentially to the sorceress, as if the inspect intrusion does not frighten or surprise her, and Maleficent takes the opportunity to approach the woman until she is beside her, and, in silence, she also directs her eyes towards to the dark view above their heads. 

A veil of silence covers the air as the pair stared at the stars. Neither one of them dared to speak, fearing it would ruin the moment. The sky provided the entertainment, showing amid bright spots two huge stars, however distant, from the women and each other. Some smaller ones flickered from time to time, others did not. But all of that was more than enough to keep them quiet for a while. 

The moonlight was theirs, it lights shining on Ingrith and Maleficent, bathing their faces with pale rays. And the witch's soul felt euphoric to be beside her lost love so she slowly brought her eyes to the woman beside her. What she saw could easily overcome all the beautiful visions she had witnessed for the past 23 years. 

No matter how much time had passed, Ingrith's face was still as beautiful as before. Smooth, even firm, and extremely angelic just as the moon's rays flooded her. Her eyes also shone, in a shade of blue that was still identical to the little shell that danced between Maleficent's fingers in the pocket of her dark tunic, and the brunette didn't even have to focus on them to find herself mesmerized. 

“When you meant that my heart was corrupted by a crown, my world broke in two, because it is not true. And you know it is not true. ” 

Her voice sounds sharp, full of hurt, and Maleficent feels her heart break in two. 

"I know." 

Her voice is low when she agreed. She knows that she owes this to Ingrith, in addition to many other things, but her saliva has become glue on her tongue and the witch is unable to say anything. But the Queen of Ulstead has a lot to say, and she can't wait any longer. 

“On my wedding day, my walk in the sound of my wedding march was the longest that Ulstead has ever seen. I took my time and examined all the guests from all the chairs. Every single one of them. I recorded every face, just because I was looking for yours... And I know that if I had seen your eyes, even with the commitment that I had, I would have given up.” 

The sorceress watches the trembling sigh escape the blonde woman's lips beside her, but only a few dense breaths are needed so that no tears fall from her blue eyes and she manages to continue. 

“But I didn't see your eyes, because you weren't there, and I blamed myself for years for even believing that you would be. Until my little prince was born and then I forgot to blame myself. But today, I looked for your eyes again and I didn't find them either, even with you here, and reality attacked me like the shrill sound of a bell tower, showing that I could never give up looking for your eyes, even after all these years and if I try not to.” 

Maleficent's wings flutter in nervousness as her mind drinks Ingrith's words and she almost wants to hurt herself for not being there, even though she knew it wouldn't be possible. I never could. But she still likes to produce hypotheses in her mind. Memories of days that don't exist, but that shine like real and make her face blush. 

But at the same time, she wouldn't have Aurora, and Ingrith wouldn't have Philip. 

The brief possibility makes her stomach turn and her own saliva sounds bitter on her tongue. 

Perhaps, they are where they should be. Because the witch knows that any chance of an alternative life without Aurora would not be so happy, and her heart says that Ingrith feels this even more. 

Yes, they were where they were supposed to be. With all the fire, all the passion and all the quiet love from all those years ago. Because they haven't forgotten. 

And how could they? 

After all, if memory betrayed them, there was always an object. Solid proof that it hadn't been a dream. A blue shell. 

And as if she only now remembered the time that past in an unconventional silence that followed the confession of the Queen of Ulstead, Maleficent believes that she owes her an answer. And none would be more worthy than the one she has in mind. 

Her breast boils with excitement and her wings do the work that her agitated arms cannot find the strength to complete, stretching and pulling Ingrith towards her until the blonde's body touches the brunette's one. 

And the human allows herself to be carried away, without fear, without resistance, just showered with the same curiosity that she had in the first time she saw Maleficent. 

The witch trembles as she takes the blue shell out of her pocket and when the blue eyes focus on the object, which now lands on her hand, a surprised sigh escapes Ingrith's lips and the eyes that have sparked so much passion for Maleficent since the first time are now in full of tears with a silent question. 

“I take it with me, wherever I go, since the day you left it. As a rational reminder that you exist. I know that without it I would have gone insane decades ago.” 

And, like the first time, the thin lips of the human collide with the witch ones. 

Maleficent's moan is suffocated, prolonged, and pleading, and the blonde's eyes water in response. 

Maybe Ingrith should be ashamed of being so vulnerable, impulsive, and instinctive like that, maybe she should be more reserved. After all, she is a married woman, a Queen, the inspiration and model of everyone who lives in Ulstead, and that overwhelming passion has been going on for so long... 

However, contrary to all the turbulent voices in her mind, another one sounded louder, screaming that she never felt so loved, so appreciated, except by Maleficent. And the brunette's lips only point to the explicit veracity of her thoughts in the midst of all that chaos, moving passionately with her own. 

It is a dance so natural and without any pressure that the blonde does not even need to think to remember the steps, making the moment flow pure as the waters of a clear river. 

A river like Cecina. 

But her thoughts and memories are interrupted by another moan, just as the witch gently kisses the blonde's throat and pushes her affectionately towards the window. They almost fall over fixed bookshelves, and Ingrith's head is now pressing firmly against some religious specimens lined up on her back. The sensation is electrifying, and her heart flutters wildly with the feeling as she unconsciously rubs her nails down Maleficent's spine. 

The brunette's response is a hot exhale against the other woman's collarbone, causing chills in the pale skin. There is a beautiful spot under Ingrith's jaw that lived in the witch's thoughts all those years, and she is careful not to leave marks on the skin as her lips go down there, around her neck, against her collarbones, and between her breasts. 

She is gentle while her hands hold Ingrith's hips, and the blonde arches with tears in her eyes to feel all the affection that intrigued and fascinated her all that years ago. The heavy and theatrical dress is now loose in the Queen's body and, although Ingrith wants to alert the brunette about the stark difference between herself before motherhood and her current self, she finds no strength. Not when Maleficent's lips trail open-mouthed kisses on her stomach and, after more abandoned clothing, on the bones of her hips. Not when Maleficent lies her head between her thighs with a look of adoration straight toward her. 

And there, it's the witch's turn to drink from the vision that was denied her for 23 years. She looks at her flushed face, swollen lips, and heavy chest as she catches her breath. She rests her chin against the blonde's thigh briefly, sighing loudly until a whisper comes out against her skin. 

It is subtle, but still audible. 

"Last time?" 

“Not in a thousand years. Are you going to take me to Cecina? ” 

And the smile that the brunette radiates when she nodded affirmatively is the sweetest that Ingrith has ever seen, her heart screams words that she knows she cannot say out loud, and so she only reflects the same gesture, hoping that Maleficent reads in her eyes how much she loves her. 

And Maleficent does, because after all, their eyes speak the same language.