1.1K 47 5

Maleficent doesn't feel quite well and some help is needed. Diaval is there to support her, as always.

Disclaimer/claimer: Obviously I don't own anything about Maleficent, but the poem "Fall" is total and completely mine.

Note: There's a chapter for Summer, with other rating. If you're ok with it, look for "Too hot to eat".


When I was in my young Spring
All flowers sweet and running free
I didn't dream a thing of thee,
Of thee I didn't dream a thing.
But Spring was short and long ago;
No flowers did I keep from mine.
Another road to take was time,
Time was to take another road.

Summer full of golden light
Burns my bones and blazes my eyes
For all my fights are now my cries
My cries are now for all my fights.
Summer ends with all its glow.
What shall I keep to warm my bones
As sun goes low for all old ones?
As for old ones the sun goes low?

Who shall in Fall my feet warm keep:
Whom shall I mourn when all is gone?
I'm sure I'll meet in enchanted tone
In enchanted tone I'm sure I'll meet
The one to stand with, back to back
The one to keep me 'till the Fall
And this will last, for this is all
And this is all for us to last.

The sun was setting for the Moors and the sky took the colour of the fallen leaves. Fruit ripened heavy in the branches and the fairy folk hasted to gather, dry and store them for the upcoming Winter. Seeds and nuts had similar destiny, but this year was the first one of exchanging goods with Aurora's human kingdom, and fruits and cider went to the town as grain and wool came to the Moors. It was an attempt, none of the parts was sure if it would work, but the good will was there to end generations of distrust.

Maleficent was tired of the busy day and retreated to her nest, wanting nothing more than silence.

Being Diaval's mate, silence was not an option, obviously.

The flutter of wings followed by a thud when human feet contacting the ground announced his arrival.

"She will come in the morrow, mistress."

Maleficent settled down on her favourite corner of the nest and smiled at him.

"Thank you, Diaval, I don't know what would be of me without you."

"Deathly boredom, of course."

He shook his footwear away and sat cross-legged in front of the fae, taking her feet in his lap. Knowledgeably fingers massaged her toes and then the soles, slowly going up to her ankles.

"Hmm, this feels good... my feet feel like I walked the whole Moors around thrice!"

"They are swollen." Agreed the raven.

"I must be dying..."

"Drama queen!" He tried to better her mood with a playful tone and a wink of his onix eyes. "None dies from swollen feet, I'd wager."

"Aurora told me of an elderly woman in the castle who stopped peeing and she swell up for two weeks and ended up dead."

Diaval considered her statement.

"Did you stop peeing?"

"Nope." Maleficent pouted. "Sometimes I feel like there's a whole pond in my bladder, I can't even sleep a righteous night without getting up to pee."

"So, no swelling up to death problem, I presume."

"You presume too much. Still, I might be dying from old age."

Diaval crunched a couple of leaves in his hands and repeated the massage, this time focusing on her ankles and calves, rubbing the camphor on her skin with a little more pressure than before.

Four SeasonsWhere stories live. Discover now