#princess!mal

[thedarkestfae]

Dream a Little Dream of Me || Philip & Mal

For the first time in a long time, Maleficent felt baffled. She’d got the flowers, worn the dress, communed with animals and sung all the songs she knew, but still somehow she hadn’t found Prince Charming yet. Or rather, he hadn’t found her. She knew precisely where he was, down to the route he took to work and the room number he lived at. She’d thought about capturing herself in a tower so he would rescue her, but quickly reasoned you couldn’t actually capture yourself. Then she wondered perhaps if he knew she was there, and was simply waiting for her to come home.

She gave the front door to the apartment a gentle testing nudge. It was something she’d done a few times, in hopes that he’d leave it open for her, and always to no avail. But this time it clicked, a small crack through which the smells of his home began to ease. She nudged it a little further, stepping slowly after it into the room. It seemed to be empty, stacked high with boxes, and she wondered if he had a surprise for her. Perhaps that was why he hadn’t come to find her.

The sounds of life from another room made her turn, waiting with a smile on her face as the figure stepped through the doorway. “Where’re we going?” She asked expectantly, clasping her hands excitedly together.

@quillantheyounger

[thedarkestfae]

“Fruit smoothie?” Maleficent smiled, as she offered a cup to a passing festival goer. “This one has strawberries in it.” As a registered bar in the area, the Black Dragon had been sent an invite to serve a tent at the festival. Of course, she new next to nothing about Bavarian, German and Bohemian style ale, but she imagined she could probably make a pretty neat smoothie. They were both kinds of drinks. That was close enough.

[thedarkestfae]

Maleficent sat on the grass, the skirt of her dress spread like an ocean of pink around her. She’d come to sing to the animals, though so far she’d only managed to find a squirrel, a raccoon and a fat pigeon the colour of dirt. She also, wasn’t particularly good at singing. But she thought, if she believed enough, she could be. The sound of footsteps spooked the pigeon and the squirrel. “You scared the poor things,” she sighed up at the figure. The raccoon still perched on her shoulder hissed.