I Know You

1

Aurora lay face down on the cold floor of the dungeon, closing her eyes to escape the only bit of light which was beginning to seep through the tiny, barred window.

It had been just under a week since her father had been killed, and even less time since Maleficent had crowned her Queen of the Moors.

And here she was – confined to the dank dungeon of her father's castle, with little hope of ever seeing the light of day again. At least, that was how she felt right then.

It had all happened so quickly. One minute, she was walking the edge of the wall of thorns, collecting wild flowers. The next, she had been bundled up by two of her father's minions and dragged away on horseback.

The two men - both in full armour and carrying more iron weapons than Aurora had ever seen – appeared to be under the impression that they were on some sort of rescue mission, at which they had succeeded.

They returned her to the castle triumphantly, where she found herself standing in a courtyard in front of her father's most trusted advisor, a man by the name of Magnus.

At first, Magnus had appeared kind, as Aurora wished to know why she had been so unceremoniously dragged from her home at the crack of dawn. He explained that, in the wake of her father's death, it was time for her to ascend the throne.

Aurora had told him in no uncertain terms that she had absolutely no intention of doing such, demanding that she be returned to the moors and her Godmother at once.

Magnus told her that this was not possible, and an escape attempt followed, which resulted in Aurora being restrained by several of the castle's guards.

Aurora, Magnus advised, had surely been placed under another curse by the winged witch – one which led her to trust such a creature. And so she had found herself locked in the deepest of the castle's dungeons, with nothing but the mice for company, until such a time as Magnus could determine how to lift the curse.

Opening her eyes and blinking as the first rays of sun lit up the dungeon as best they could, Aurora figured that this must her third day in the stone prison. Twice a day the huge, iron-clad door opened and a plate of food appeared. Aside from this, Aurora had seen nor heard a single soul.

She had long since given up hope of being rescued, for it seemed that not even Diaval had managed to locate her.

For the first day, Aurora had channelled most of her energy into pounding on the door and shouting at the top of her lungs – shouting to be let out, shouting for her Godmother, shouting for anybody.

By the second day, she was exhausted, and spent most of it asleep. She dreamed of the Moors, of mud flinging with the wallerbogs and of climbing to the height of the tallest trees, to see whether she could spot her Godmother in the skies, enjoying the freedom of her recently-returned wings.

And then she dreamed that the iron door flew clean off its hinges, and her Godmother was by her side, wrapping her in the security of her feathers, assuring her that she had come to take her home.

Aurora had awoken from the dream sobbing, devastated to find that the door remained intact and desperate to be held by the closest being she had ever had to a mother.

Today, Aurora had no fight left in her. And so she lay against the cold, hard floor and closed her eyes again.

Ω Ω Ω Ω

Maleficent had spent most of the night in the sky, circling the moors, still with a faint glimmer of hope that she may catch sight of the girl.

Dawn was breaking as she returned to the great tree she called home, and surveyed the nest before her.