Summary: You were friends with Maleficent since she was little when Aurora invites them to Prince Philip's palace and it ends in disaster. Maleficent and you end up injured and you wake up in a very strange place.
you felt sore you began to open your eyes you looked around you inspected the place it looked like a giant nest you got up from where you were resting you found your flute and started walking looking for maleficent as you walked you saw many tunnels some on the floor others on the ceiling and walls "where the hell it was."
You heard voices in one of the tunnels. You didn't know you would find yourself there, but you were curious. You started walking until the voices intensified until you began to hear well.
x: they hear it they hear it
you could see that all the vices were fairies cimo maleficent you noticed that the fairy who spoke was holding an iron bullet in her fingers
x: It is a message from humans I hear it loud and clear our death is approaching
He said, showing the bullet to all the fairies present.
x: Humans have used iron against us for centuries
you saw another fairy talk to him
x: and because of him he almost made us extinct
x: killing peasants near the Moors will only cause a conflict
So they were to blame for the dead humans near the Moors. You had to be careful. If they had already killed humans, they wouldn't be any different with you.
You were listening to their conversation when you noticed some eyes looking at you. You turned around and saw a fairy with white wings and hair of the same color looking at you. You stood rigid looking at him until the whole place became silent.
x: well it seems that our guest woke up
You heard, you saw how all the fairies turned to look at you, some with hatred in their eyes.
The fairy who was giving a speech flew quickly towards you, grabbing you and pushing you to the center of the place.
You fell to your knees, you saw how he looked at you with anger.
x: look at one of them, she could kill us if she wanted to but she is defenseless
He said while the other fairies laughed he knelt in front of you.
x: without iron you are weak
You looked at him angrily, you hated it when people told you that you were weak.
x: Did you want to kill that fairy?
You just looked at him confused. Was he talking about Maleficent?
x: answer me
x:borra leave her empath
You saw the fairy who was arguing with him and he did it to you, helping you get up.
x: are you okay
Borra: because you help her
x: because she hasn't done anything to us
Borra: she is a cruel being
The other fairies supported him. You were angry. You hadn't done anything to anyone. If they thought you were cruel, you would show them what you could do.
you took out your flute while you wet your lips
Borra: What do you think you'll do with that, huh?
you took a breath until you started playing a melody they laughed until they started dancing to the rhythm of the music the more you played they couldn't control themselves and it hurt if they resisted
Borra: stop what are you doing to us
x: enough
When you heard that voice you knew it was evil, you immediately stopped playing and looked at her, you ran towards her to see if she was okay.
Maleficent: I'm fine, who are you?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After clarifying who they were and where Maleficent came from, you felt happy for her.
She was with connal. You were in the part of the tundra. You were always attracted by the cold and the snow. You saw the children playing but you knew you couldn't get involved. You didn't want problems with their mothers.
You were sitting under a tree when you heard a flutter of wings, you saw next to you it was the same fairy that saw you when you were in a meeting, he turned around, you got up and walked back.
x I'm not going to hurt you, I'm udo
You looked at him, he seemed like he didn't want conflicts, so you let him do what.
udo: you are y/n no
You felt as you sat down he approached you.
Udo: I heard you can't talk, how do you communicate with her?
you looked at him and showed him your flute
Udo: ohh, could I listen?
He sat next to you while you began to play a melody that transmitted emotions.
udo: you know not all fairies are like borra he is very impulsive but that's what we go through
You looked at him listening to what he was saying.
Udo: I don't believe that all humans are bad, you are proof that there are good ones.
A small smile appeared at the corner of your lips.
I'd really like an Udo x reader, please! He deserves more love!
Udo x human!Reader with a heavy dose of pining and the promise that Udo and Guin are getting a full-fledged fic.
Your mother was going to have to help you straighten your hair again soon.
Technically, she didn’t have to. You were a grown woman; you could do it by yourself, though it would be far easier to ensure every last strand was as smooth as it ought to be when you had help. Your mother’s help. No one else had ever touched your hair, and rightfully so, in your opinion (until earlier that day). Until Udo reached out, as though instinctively, and brushed back your hair from the shell of your ear. The temperance of his skin was not what jolted you into alertness – though you had not corrected him when he believed it to be – but the gentility of his touch.
It put all manner of thoughts in your head that had no business being there.
You allowed your brush to pause mid-stroke. It was perfectly natural to be lonely. Richard had been gone for nearly a year; the love of your family was unconditional, infallible, and always present to ward off the worst of your yearnings, but it was not the same as having your hand held by someone who loved you. Watching a gaggle of children run throw a meadow of wildflowers, your son among them, and feel at home beside the person at your side. You had only known Udo for a short time, but his daughter was your son’s best friend; you knew him to be a good father, a responsible and devoted caregiver, willing and able to care for children who were not his own.
You just couldn’t decide if you wanted him to love you.
Or, worse still, if you could even acknowledge your feelings in return.
You did not hear the breath of your bedroom door opening, nor the brush of Udo’s wings against the frame as he leaned in to tell you, “The children are asleep.”
You startled. Dropping your brush, you made sure your dressing gown was closed over your nightdress – it was one thing to sit around thinking about him, another entirely to sit in your bedroom, practically bare, when he was a guest in your home.
“I am so sorry,” you began, standing from the bench you’d set before your dressing-table.
The corners of his lips quirked, but did not fully upturn. “You did not hear me?”
“No.” And you should not have gone about dressing for bed until he’d left. What kind of a fool were you? “I should’ve. I don’t know why I’d forgotten you were here—”
“Guinevere,” he cut you off gently, “you are allowed to be comfortable in your own home.”
No, you admitted by way of breathing out rather harshly, you were not. There were standards – rules of propriety, let alone laws of etiquette that you’d miraculously failed to adhere to. A small handful of months under new reign, peace and prosperity and political alliances with entirely new races of fey and you’d forgotten a lifetime of court lessons (many of which had been engrained in shame under Queen Ingrith’s perpetual disapproval). You were not allowed to undress while a male acquaintance resided in your home unless you were chaperoned, which you were most certainly not. Never mind entertain thoughts of courtship with said male acquaintance. Not in the position you were in.
“Aspen and Rojan decided to stay in Arthur’s room. Violet, Dawn and Aya will sleep in your mother’s.” It was only fair, as six children could hardly be asked to share one bed.
You nodded, though the result of that conclusion did not strike you fully until Udo opened the door a bit more as if to enter.
The children occupied every other bed in your home. Which left him with nowhere else to sleep but in your room, with you.
There were alternatives, of course. You could politely relinquish your bed and go sleep with the girls, if there was room. He was your guest; courtesy dictated that you would sleep on the floor if that was what you must do in order to make your guests comfortable, regardless of whether or not said guest understood or acknowledged the social rules that had been engrained into you since childhood.
“Is the front door bolted?” you asked, though the smallness of your voice betrayed you. A moment’s extra time would not buy you much in the way of thought, but—
“It is,” he replied.
Damn. Maybe he knew more than you gave him credit for.
Maybe you shouldn’t have had that thought, lest you start entertaining the idea that the children were filling up every bed in the house and Udo knew what sharing a bed with you would mean to an observant, human outsider. Like your mother, if she returned from the palace earlier tomorrow than she said she would.
“The candles are extinguished,” he left the door open, though, which you could not bring yourself to protest. If the children needed you, it was the easiest way for them to reach you, but it also afforded some sense of lacking privacy – some persistent reminder that you were not hiding away in a love-nest somewhere, and you could be walked in upon at any time, so there was no reason to entertain the idea of being held by him while you slept. Caressing the length of one of his long feathers to see if they were really as soft as they looked. No, you absolutely could not do that.
“Except yours.”
The blue of his eyes was as clear and bright as the winter’s midday sky. . It was not the first time they’d caused you to lose your train of thought (nor the softness in his angular features or the grace in his approach). He joined you, only a pace away from the wool blankets that still lingered atop your bed for those cold, late-spring nights.
What would it feel like to be pressed against him under them?
“My what?”
His bright eyes glimmered. Surely, your voice must’ve betrayed you.
Your face warmed. You had to resist the impulse to pull your sleeves lower so you could fuss with the loose thread on your inner sleeve – it was not ladylike to pull at your clothing, or divert your gaze when someone spoke to you.
“Your candle.” His wing extended as though he gestured with the patterned end of his long feathers.
Yes. That would make sense. If he had truly put everyone to bed and extinguished the other candles – even checked the door to ensure your safety – your candle would be the last one to remain lit, would it not?
“Oh.” Very eloquent. You could almost feel the sting of a silver teaspoon across your knuckles.
“Are you ready to sleep?” He lowered his head ever so slightly toward you. Though some part of you knew that he would be searching your eyes for a response (or, perhaps because of it), yours lifted to the points of his horns, as though expecting them to lower near enough to touch the top of your own head. Never mind that they were another head above the advantage in height he already had.
“I suppose.” You tore your eyes away. Fetched your brush off the dressing table and placed it, bristles-down, in one of the topmost drawers of your chest-of-drawers. Tomorrow’s gown awaited you on the back of your dressing screen, and though it did not necessarily please you to imagine waking early to ensure you had time enough to dress before he joined you, you supposed it was only one morning. Perhaps, after sleeping, tomorrow would not be as awkward as it seemed tonight.
Udo gestured for you to take to your bed. He must’ve wanted you to do as you always did, though he must’ve known you deliberately would not; the opposite side of the bed was your usual sleeping-area, and you made sure to remain as near to the edge as comfortably possible lest he not have enough room for himself and his wings. (Surely, he wouldn’t, but you could no more control that than you could control the lack of adequate sleeping space for two adults and six children in a house meant for three.)
He extinguished the candle with a soft breath.
Yet, even in the darkness of a house at night, you saw the whiteness of his robes. The brightness of his hair. You watched him unwind his topmost layer from around his wings, and relieve himself of it in a folded square like the cloak of a formal coat. It was placed gingerly upon your dressing-table, as though he was uncertain as to whether or not it would be allowed there.
You had the nagging feeling he knew you could still see him.
His underclothes fit to his body more closely than you imagined they might.
You had no business thinking about his underclothes. Even if they were not underclothes in the sense you knew underclothes to be. Clothes under a coat. That kind of underclothes, not….Lord in Heaven, do not lie there wondering if he wears underclothes beneath what he already has on.
He drew his wings close to him before he lay down. He did not draw back the wool blanket that you had crawled beneath, and you did not realize he might see the flicker of unwarranted hurt that crossed your face.
“Would you like a blanket of your own?” you murmured.
“No.” He settled atop his wings, flexing them only a bit, and interlaced his hands carefully atop his stomach. “Thank you. This is a much warmer climate than my own.”
Oh. Of course.
Everything was perfectly reasonable, in the end. You shared a bed because there was no other reasonable alternative. Your children were friends, nothing more, and you often participated in such awkward exchanges because you were still culturally uncertain with one another, nothing more.
You had to force yourself to turn away. “Goodnight, Udo.”
You could only hide so much from someone who lay beside you. Udo watched the tension in your shoulders ease. Listened to your breath begin to deepen. Nervous as you were, the weight of his body beside yours did not disrupt your peace. In fact, he waited until he believed you were past the cusp of sleep to murmur, as if he believed you would not hear, “Goodnight, Guinevere.”
