1 November 2022
Somehow, it seems fitting to start posting my Nanowrimo work just after we get halfway through the month. It’s been good to reflect; I had the barest hints of ideas and worldbuilding when I wrote this, and now it’s expanded into so much more. I just have to remember that doesn’t mean it’s done growing; it still is. I was - am - proud of the first section, from Maleficent’s point of view. A lot has changed since I wrote that, though, so there are definitely tweaks to be made. The last section was mostly just to keep writing something, and has since been scrapped.
I do not expect to hit 50k this year; as of writing this (early evening of the 16th), I only have roughly 14,500 words. I’m still shooting for 40k, though, even if it’s a bit unreasonable.
Maleficent strode through the massive double doors into the ballroom, paying no mind to the guards scurrying this way and that. A quick survey of the room confirmed her suspicions; of the rulers of major nations in the region, all others were already represented, which meant she was the only who had not been invited. That, in itself, was fine; expected even, given recent events. But the sight of the trio of fairies… that infuriated her.
Maleficent managed to contain herself, and plucked the smallest strand of composure from a passing serving girl just to be safe. She went to greet the hosts, and smiled widely, even if that smile never reached her eyes. “Good evening, King Frederick. Queen Hannah.”
Frederick looked rather uncomfortable with her presence, and Maleficent took some small satisfaction in that fact. Hannah, however, positively beamed at her. “Queen Maleficent! I’m so happy to see you.” She took Maleficent’s hand in both of hers. “We heard about your late husband; I’m sorry for your loss. We figured it might be rude to intrude on your time of grief to ask you to come celebrate with us.”
“Yes, quite.” Maleficent withdrew her hand from the other queen’s grasp and pursed her lips; she hadn’t quite figured out what to make of Queen Hannah as of yet. She looked past the royal couple at the baby girl lying in a crib behind them. The three fairies, green, pink, and blue, had gathered around it. “I presume this is the child?”
“Yes. We’ve named her Aurora.” Queen Hannah smiled down at her daughter. “The fairies were just bestowing their gifts; Lena blessed her with beauty, and Frieda with cleverness.” She gestured to the pink and green fairies, who nodded their heads in turn. “Isn’t it marvelous?”
Marvelous? Did she really not know? Were witches so rare in this part of the realm? Maleficent turned to the two fairies just named, and in the ancient language of fae magic demanded of them, “And you did not warn them of the cost? Of what will happen to their beloved child halfway through her time in mortality? Are the fae now so underhanded?”
All three fairies gasped and turned pale, but not from what she’d said. No, they looked at her in horror when they realized she could speak their tongue, and the implications that carried.
Maleficent looked at the baby once more and reached out a hand, only to pull it back. Things were even worse than they appeared; the child was not destined to be long for the world. Such was part of Maleficent’s gift, and her curse; the things she could do let her see the span of a person’s life with just a glance.
She switched back to common tongue and announced, “Then I, too, shall bestow a gift on the child. Before the sun sets on her sixteenth birthday, she will be poisoned, whether by the prick of a finger or th flesh of an apple, and she will die, and be spared the cruelty of this unjust world.” And thus, the very day the child’s gifts would become curses, instead of the child, the cost would be reflected back on the wretched creatures that would so abuse the human race.
The entire hall was stunned silent, until Frederick shouted to the guard, “Seize her!”
Before the guards could take more than a single step, however, Maleficent stole the light and heat from all the torches in the room and released it in a burst around her. With all the dignity she carried as a queen, she strode out of the castle unimpeded, heedless of the mother’s cries that echoed behind her.
Prince Isaac was eight when his family went to go bring his sister back home. He didn’t know the details; most times, he didn’t even remember he had an older sister. She’d been taken by a fairy named Gothel before he was born to keep her safe. Something about a witch’s curse?
It all sounded like a grand adventure. But then Gothel stopped sending letters. Mum and Dad grew worried, and decided to go see her. Isaac asked to come along.
However, when they arrived, all they found was a long-abandoned shack in the woods. No sign of fairies or sisters, or even that anyone had ever lived here at all. The only thing they found was a single letter, and Isaac hadn’t been allowed to read it.
Soon, they went home, and Dad ordered his men to scour the land for even the faintest hint of where Gothel could have gone.
Most recently updated draft of Rapunzel, the Sleeping Beauty (potentially including unposted content)