Elizabeth mine is a maleficent true love story. Maleficent
Elizabeth Rudnick
MALEFICENT
A TRUE LOVE STORY
Dedicated to Linda Woolverton
This is the story of the fairy Maleficent. The story you don't know. Mind you, this is not one of those tales that starts with a curse and ends with a fight with a dragon. No. This is the story of what really happened. While there is both a curse and a dragon in this story, there is so much more to it. Because this is a story about unrequited love, found friendship and the power of a single kiss...
SCOTTISH HIGHLANDS
The rays of the sunset sun seeped through the thick grass, gilding the green blades of grass. Clouds drifted slowly across the sky, like fluffy white sheep slowly wandering through the meadow under them. A shepherd sitting nearby near a stone wall and his four-year-old son watched their flock. At their feet were two collies, closing their eyes for a brief respite from their dog duties.
Today a little boy went out to pasture for the first time with his father. He had been waiting for this day for an eternity - while the older brothers were tending sheep farther and farther from home, he was always left alone. But today it's his turn. He ran all the way behind his father, trying not to scare away the sheep, which they drove to one of the most distant meadows. Imitating his father, the boy began to yell at the sheep to get them to move on.
From new impressions, running around and shouting, the boy had an appetite. Quickly swallowing his supper, he set to work with relish on a large piece of sweet pie, dropping the crumbs into his lap. Noticing that his father had put his piece on the ground, the boy asked in surprise:
Don't you want some sweet pie, dad?
I leave him here for the fairy folk,” the shepherd replied, his weather-beaten face serious.
Say no to sweet pie? The boy could not have imagined such a thing.
What for? - he asked.
The shepherd smiled.
To thank them for making the grass taller and thicker and helping the flowers bloom. To show that we are not going to harm them.
But such an answer was not enough for the inquisitive boy. He had many more questions.
And why do they do it? And what harm can we do to them? he asked in his thin, bewildered voice.
Before answering anything, the shepherd smoothed the ground in front of him with a worn shoe. The soles of his boots were brown from the meadow soil, and his toes were completely peeling off. Hard times have come - King Henry every year demanded more and more grain and sheep. Farmers now had to cling tightly to the ground and cherish their old boots, hoping for the best.
They are part of nature. They take care of plants, animals, even the air itself. - The shepherd picked up a handful of loose soil and slowly poured it around the treat. But not everyone appreciates them. Some attack their land, wanting to take advantage of all the natural wealth. Oh, how many senseless wars there were between them and people! And no matter how many times both of them have sought to make peace, we still seem to be constantly on the verge of a new war.
With these words, the shepherd sadly looked into the distance.
The boy didn't understand. His father spoke some utter nonsense. But when he himself says nonsense, his mother gives him a slap on the back of the head and sends him to the barn to clean the stalls!
Of course, the boy could not give a cuff to his own father, and therefore only asked:
Why are you digging the ground like that?
As a sign of respect, - calmly, as if about something taken for granted, the father answered. "To show the fairies that they can eat this cake without fear, and so that they don't think we're going to poison them." You know, if you make them angry, they can get very angry.
The shepherd got up, whistled to the dogs, and moved towards the house.
The boy behind him sat down at the gate of the sheep pen, his thoughts racing. He had never heard of evil fairies before. Frightened, he looked around. Not sure that these same people are not watching him evil fairies, he jumped down, screaming softly, and ran after his father. Only when he caught up with him and felt safe, the boy sighed with relief and began to look around - he really wanted to see at least one fairy.
As he descended the hillside, chasing the sheep towards the house, which looked like a small speck from here, the boy looked up at the sky, then back down at the ground.
Noticing something green on the flower, he stopped and called out to his father.
Tell me, is it a fairy? he asked hopefully.
No, the shepherd replied, shaking his head. - It's just a grasshopper.
And this? the boy asked, pointing to another flower.
The boy immediately touched his ears and rolled his eyes.
Dad, I think I'm one of them!
Barely restraining himself from bursting out with laughter, the shepherd stopped and turned to his son.
The boy calmed down and smiled. He, of course, really wanted to see the fairies, but he did not want to be one of them at all.
Raising his hand, the shepherd pointed his finger at the ground that surrounded their family pasture.
If you were a fairy, he said, you would live there. They live on these moorlands. It is because of them that all this fuss is made.
The boy looked in the direction his father was pointing and rolled his eyes. Until now, he had never seen moorland, they were too far from their farm. True, he heard stories from his brothers about sheep that had strayed from the herd and never returned from there. Even now, in the warm glow of the evening sun, the marshes were shrouded in mist that hid everything—and everyone within. Heather marshes stretched out in both directions, surrounded by tall, gnarled trees, their branches stretching up to the sky and obscuring the land beyond them. At the base of the trunks in spots sunlight high reeds could be seen - they leaned forward, as if examining with curiosity the land belonging to people. The boy cringed.
What to choose: a modern author or reread the classics? fascinating fantasy, good fairy tale or subtle psychological drama? Sometimes it's hard to tell from the cover what you really like. We suggest you read the passage and decide on your preference.
Tilly Cole "A Thousand Kisses You Can't Forget"
About what:
The book is set in the USA. Rune and Poppy met when they were still children. Over time, childhood affection turned into a deep feeling. As children, they promised that all their kisses would belong to each other. Grandma Poppy dies and bequeaths to her granddaughter a jar filled with pink paper hearts. Poppy must fill this jar with the most special and unforgettable kisses, and write down on each paper heart when this kiss happened.
Many years pass, the heroes are already teenagers. Because of work, Rune's father must return to his native Norway, Rune has to leave with him. The guy is in despair that he is forced to leave his beloved for three whole years.
When Rune finally returns to Georgia with Poppa, he has only one thought in his head. Why did the girl who took possession not only of his heart, but also of his soul, who promised to wait for him forever, suddenly stopped answering letters and calls?
Excerpt from the book:
We sat in silence for a while, then Rune asked:
What is this bank for? What's inside?
I removed my hand, took the jar and raised it higher.
New adventure from my grandma. Travel for a lifetime.
Rune's eyebrows went down, and her long blond hair fell over her eyes. I pushed them back and he smiled. At school, all the girls wanted him to smile at them like that - they themselves told me. And I told them that none of them would get a single smile; Rune is my best friend, and I'm not going to share it with him.
Rune pointed to the jar.
I do not understand.
Do you remember what grandma's favorite memories were? I told you.
Rune thought, even wrinkled his forehead, and then said:
Kiss your grandfather?
I nodded and plucked a pale pink cherry petal from a low-hanging branch. Grandma loved cherry petals the most. Loved because they don't last long. She said that the best, the most beautiful, never stays long. She said the cherry blossom was too beautiful to last a whole year. That he is special because his age is short. Like a samurai - exquisite beauty and quick death. I didn't quite understand what that meant, but my grandma said I'd understand when I was older.
Rune and Poppy met when they were still children.
She must have been right. Grandma was not old and left young - at least that's what dad said. Maybe that's why she liked the cherry blossom so much. Because she herself was the same.
Poppymin?
I raised my head.
So that? Grandpa's kisses were her best memory?
Yes, I answered and unclenched my fingers. The petal fell to the ground. All the kisses that almost made her heart break. Granny said that his kisses are the best thing in the world. Because that's how much he loved her. That's how much I valued her. And he liked her for being just that.
Rune glared at the jar and snorted.
Still do not understand.
He pursed his lips and grimaced, and I laughed. He had beautiful lips - full, bowed. I opened the jar, took out a pink paper heart with nothing written on it, and showed it to Runa.
This is an empty kiss. - I pointed to the jar. “Grandma told me to get a thousand kisses in my life. - I put the heart in a jar and took Rune's hand. - This is a new adventure. Gather before I die a thousand kisses from my other half.
I took out a pen from my pocket.
When the boy I love kisses me so that my heart almost breaks, I will have to write all the details on one of the hearts. And then, when I get old and gray-haired and want to tell my grandchildren about everything, I will remember those special kisses. And the one who gave them to me.
– Grandma liked cherry petals the most. Loved because they don't last long. She said that the best, the most beautiful, never stays long.
It was like I was thrown.
That's what grandma wanted from me! Overwhelmed with excitement, I jumped up. So, we need to start soon! I have to do this for her.
Rune also jumped up. And at the same instant, torn off by a gust of wind, rose petals flew past us, circling. I smiled. But Rune did not smile. No, he seemed to be furious.
So will you kiss a boy for your can? With someone special? With the one you love? he asked.
I nodded.
A thousand Kisses! One thousand!
Rune shook his head and pouted his lips.
NO! he bellowed.
And I couldn't smile anymore.
What? I asked.
He stepped towards me, shaking his head stubbornly.
Not! I don't want you to kiss anyone for that jar of yours! No and no! Do not be this!
Rune didn't let me say anything and grabbed my hand.
You are my best friend. He puffed out his chest and pulled me towards him. - I don't want you kissing boys!
But it’s necessary,” I explained, pointing to the jar. - This is my adventure. A thousand kisses is a lot. Very very! And you will still be my best friend. No one else will mean as much to me as you, silly.
Rune looked straight at me. Then he looked back at the bank. There was pain in his chest again - it was clear that he did not like it. He was gloomy again, frowning and angry.
I took a step towards my best friend. He looked straight into my eyes without looking away.
Poppimin…” he said in his hard, strong voice. - Poppimin! It means my Poppy. Together forever, forever and ever. You are MY POPPY!
I opened my mouth. I wanted to shout, protest, say that I needed to start this adventure. But then Rune suddenly leaned over and pressed his lips to mine.
And I froze. I felt his lips on mine and couldn't move. They were warm. He smelled of cinnamon. The wind tossed his long hair over my cheeks, and my nose tickled.
Rune pulled away, but didn't retreat. I tried to breathe, but my chest suddenly became light, as if it was filled with fluff. And my heart was beating fast. So fast that I pressed my hand to feel it flutter under my palm.
Rune,” I whispered, and raised my hand to touch his lips. He didn't take his eyes off me. Blinked. Once and again. My fingers touched his lips.
You kissed me,” I whispered, stunned. He squeezed my hand. We stood holding hands.
I will give you a thousand kisses. All thousand. No one will ever kiss you but me.
I looked into his eyes. My heart was beating and beating.
This is an eternity. So that no one else kisses me, we must be together. Always, forever and ever!
Rune nodded and then smiled. He rarely smiled. Usually he just grinned or grinned. And in vain. The smile made him so beautiful.
I know. Because we are together forever. Forever and ever, remember?
I nodded slowly, and then, looking at him frowningly, I asked:
So will you give me all my kisses? Enough to fill an entire jar?
Rune smiled again.
All. We will fill the entire jar and even more. We will collect well over a thousand.
Phew! Almost forgot! I freed my hand, took out the pen, and removed the lid. Then she took out a clean paper heart, sat down and began to write. Rune knelt beside me and put his hand on my elbow.
I looked at him in surprise. He swallowed and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear.
You...when...when I kissed you...your heart...did it almost break? You yourself said that only the most, most special kisses should be put in a jar. His cheeks flushed as if from fire, and he looked down in embarrassment.
Without a moment's hesitation, I leaned forward and hugged my best friend by the neck. I pressed my cheek against his chest and held my breath, listening to his heart.
It beat as fast as mine.
Yes, that's how it was. It doesn't get any more special.
I felt him smile and pulled away. She sat down, cross-legged, put the pink heart on the lid, and picked up a pen. Rune sat next to him in the same position.
What will you write? - he asked. I tapped my pen against my lip. I thought. Then she straightened up and, leaning forward, wrote:
Kiss 1
In the cherry grove.
My heart nearly broke.
Holly Smale Geek Forever
About what:
Harriet Manners is an awkward, awkward girl who is also a geek. She knows a bunch of facts about everything in the world and sprinkles them, trying to hide her embarrassment. She has a couple of best friends to whom she is devoted with all her heart. And she also has the love of her life, the breathtakingly handsome Nick, who for some time worked as a fashion model, like her. But now he has left his career and returned home to Australia to get an education and finally do what he loves - surfing. The lovers parted. Harriet believes that she has already put Nick out of her mind, but in fact she still cannot forget him. Under the girl's bed is a memory box containing material evidence of their past happiness.
In Geek Forever, fate brings Harriet to Australia. The girl understands that she simply cannot help but see Nick again. But the matter is complicated by the fact that Harriet does not know where he lives.
Excerpt from the book:
There is a loud crunch of branches behind me, and I whirl around.
Nick emerges from the darkness in a black suit and white shirt with a black tie, holding a large white lantern in his hand.
Sometimes it seems that there are not enough words in the world.
But sometimes they are enough.
Nick, you're late.
He looks around the party, then smiles and turns off his lantern.
And apparently too late. I'm sorry. Although it's not quite what I expected. He looks down at his mourning suit. - Of course.
Then he takes off his tie and jacket and sits down on the rug next to me.
Here you go,” I say, handing him a large, fluffy lime green scarf that someone threw beside me during the dance. - There are dress codes and color rules, and they must be followed.
Smiling and tilting his head to the side, he ties a scarf around his neck.
That's better?
Infinitely better.
Obviously, I didn't quite understand the directions,” Nick explains with a wry smile. - Or completely mediocre use of the compass. Besides, I'm not very good at navigating the woods in the dark, although there's a shallow pond about a mile away, which I now know very well.
He raises his eyebrows and points to the thick layer of silt that has stuck to the bottom of his black trousers.
And I told you that being a Girl Scout with a certified guide is very useful.
I know,” he smirks, “but I wouldn’t have been accepted into the Girl Scouts.
We both laugh.
Then for several minutes we sit silently, and the orange reflections of the flames play on our faces. It is a silence that you can nestle in and wrap yourself in if you want to find comfort in silence.
Finally Nick clears his throat.
Harriet, he says softly. - You have broken my heart.
I turn to him, blinking in the firelight.
That's exactly what I wanted to say,” he continues as I stare at him. “That night on the Brooklyn Bridge…I thought I needed to go home, but when I got home, all I could think about was you and nothing else. And when you didn't answer my letter, I... - He pauses. - I was very worried about this.
I open my mouth.
I was very worried. My friends and family went crazy with anxiety for me. A whole six months.
"Ouch. Oh oh oh…"
This is because they...
The diving job was supposed to distract me from all that,” he continues hastily. - But then you suddenly appeared, imitating disco steps underwater and almost drowned in front of me.
I blush hot. Did he see it?
I don't at all...
That’s right,” he counters with a wry smile. - When I see Harriet's Dance, I can't help but recognize it. I was frightened and therefore angry, I was bitter, I did not understand anything. But then you told me about Jasper, and it all made sense. I realized that last fall you didn't answer me because your life didn't stand still.
Then for several minutes we sit silently, and the orange reflections of the flames play on our faces.
Looking up, I look at Jasper, who is still talking to the Mexican on the other side of the fire.
And I suddenly remember...
For six months I carried around a box in which I hid everything that was Nick; I did everything to forget him; I woke up in tears and fell asleep in tears; I drove away all thoughts of him, fought off these thoughts with all my might, so that all this could no longer break me.
It didn't occur to me that it could break him too.
It wasn't like that at all,” I say as Jasper looks at us for a moment and then returns to the conversation. Jasper and I...
I know,” Nick interrupts me. - Nat texted me just before the show at Yuki's. She also told me that if I ever hurt you again, she would rip my head off.
Wide-eyed, I look back at my best friend, who is hiding under a huge oak tree, pretending not to look at us at all.
That's a sly monkey!
But where did she get your...
Wilbur's, Nick smiles. - He is, as always, an incorrigible romantic.
Now I can see my agent standing at a distance with Rin and Tobi. Toby gives me a thumbs up, Wilbur lifts an imaginary hat, and Rin makes a heart shape out of his palms.
What I'm trying to say is, Nick continues quietly. - You were by my side when you thought I needed it. And now... I'm next to you. For you.
A lump forms in my throat, so huge that I can't breathe.
After so many months, the truth that I've been hiding for so long is finally coming out.
Nick... I didn't ignore your letter. I answered you. I wrote one letter after another. But I couldn't send them to you. I thought you needed me to let you go. So Bunty saved them for me.
Twitching the corner of his mouth, Nick reaches into his pocket.
He takes out a stack of envelopes.
Nick returns to Australia to surf.
This is them: every single letter that I wrote to him. Every word with which I ran to the mailbox and sent it to a completely different address.
Where they couldn't hurt him.
I know, he says simply. - I read them at the party. Bunty gave them all to me.
In 1972, the Apollo 17 mission ended with a successful landing on Earth. Due to the fact that NASA decided to forego further spending on the program, Eugene Cernan officially became the last man in history, having been on the moon. He and his crew have broken several records, including the longest stay on the Moon, the farthest walk on the Moon, the largest sample of lunar soil, and the longest time in lunar orbit.
In fact, they spent quite a lot of time there.
And while they waited to return to Earth, Eugene decided to do something else and traced his daughter's initials - TDS - on the moon dust with his finger.
He knew that because the Moon had no wind or atmosphere, and a force of gravity one sixth that of Earth, those letters would remain there for billions of years: unchanging, unerased, unshakable.
And when we look at the moon, we, in fact, see a sign of love.
Imprinted in heaven for all eternity.
Jane Austen "Sense and Sensibility"
About what:
Elinor and Marianne, two sisters, both come from a noble noble family. But after the death of his father, they are on the verge of impoverishment. And together with his mother they are forced to move to a modest house, leaving the former luxurious estate.
Elinor, the older sister, is a wise, reasonable and calm girl. The youngest, Marianne, is sensitive, passionate and very emotional.
Elinor is in love with Edward. But the lovers cannot explain themselves, both are rather reserved people. In addition, due to mutual omissions and confusion, they are separated.
Marianne is passionately in love with Willoughby, a brilliant young man. Unfortunately, she is poor, and the young man, in order to improve his financial situation, tearing his beloved from his heart, is forced to marry a rich bride.
Excerpt from the book:
Mrs. Jennings only laughed again, but Eleanor had no energy to continue the conversation, and besides, wanting to know what Willoughby had written, she hurried to their room. Opening the door, she saw that Marianne was sprawled on the bed, choking with sobs and clutching a letter in her hand, and two or three more were scattered nearby. Eleanor went silently, sat down on the edge of the bed, took her sister's hand, kissed it tenderly several times, and burst into tears, at first almost as violent as Marianne's. She, although she could not utter a word, seemed to be grateful to her for her sympathy, and after they had wept together for some time, she put all the letters into Elinor's hand, and herself covered her face with a handkerchief, almost screaming with anguish. Eleanor, realizing that such a grief, painful as it was to watch, must pour itself out, did not take her eyes off her sister until her desperate suffering subsided, and then, hastily unfolding Willoughby's letter, she read the following:
"Bond Street, January.
Dear Empress!
I have just had the honor of receiving your letter, and I ask you to accept my most sincere thanks for it. I was very distressed to learn that my behavior last night did not quite win your approval, and although I could not understand how I had the misfortune to annoy you, nevertheless I beg you to forgive me for what, I assure you, was not at all with my hand deliberate. I will always remember my former acquaintance with your family in Devonshire with the liveliest pleasure, and flatter myself that it will not be clouded by any mistake or misinterpretation of my actions. I have the most sincere respect for your entire family, but if, by unfortunate chance, I have given occasion to suggest more than I felt or intended to express, I can only bitterly reproach myself for not having been more restrained in expressing this respect. And you will agree that I could not mean more when you learn that my heart has long been given to another person and that in the near future my dearest hopes will be crowned. With the greatest regret, I, as you demanded, return the letters that I had the honor to receive from you, as well as the lock of hair with which you so obligingly honored me.
With the deepest respect and the most perfect devotion, I have the honor to be your most zealous and most obedient servant
John Willoughby.
It is easy to imagine with what indignation Miss Dashwood read this message. A confession of inconstancy, a confirmation that they had parted forever - she expected this, not yet taking the sheet in her hands, but it never occurred to her that in such a case it was possible to resort to similar phrases how she could not imagine that Willoughby was so devoid of the nobility and delicacy of feelings, and even the ordinary decency of a gentleman, to send a letter so shamelessly cruel, a letter in which the desire for freedom not only was not accompanied by proper regrets, but denied any kind of a violation of the word, any feeling whatsoever, a letter in which every line was an insult and proved that it was written by an inveterate scoundrel.
For a few minutes Eleanor tried to recover from her angry surprise, then she read the letter again and again. But each time her disgust for this man only grew, and she became so hardened against him that she did not dare to speak, fearing that Marianne would be hurt even more painfully, seeing in this gap not a loss for her, but, on the contrary, deliverance from the worst. from the evils - from the ties that would forever bind her to an immoral person - true salvation, the mercy of providence.
Daily, hourly, I expected to receive an answer from you and even more - to see you.
Reflecting on the content of the letter, on the baseness of the heart capable of dictating it, and, perhaps, on the completely different heart of a completely different person, who remembered her at that moment only because he always lived in her thoughts, Eleanor forgot about her sister's shedding tears, I forgot about the three letters I had not yet read on my knees and sat in thought, not noticing the time. Going next to the window at the clatter of wheels below, to see who had arrived so obscenely early, she recognized with the greatest astonishment the carriage of Mrs. Jennings, which, she knew, was ordered to be served at one. Not wanting to leave Marianne alone, though not yet hoping to console her in any way, she hurried to find Mrs. Jennings and apologize for not going with her - her sister was not well. Mrs. Jennings accepted her apologies without any vexation, and only kindly grieved at their cause. After seeing her off, Eleanor returned to Marianne, who tried to rise from the bed, so that her sister had just managed to catch her when she almost fell to the floor, completely exhausted after many days spent without the necessary rest and reinforcement of strength. She had long ago lost all appetite and hardly closed her eyes at night, and now, when the fever of expectation had ceased to support her, the long fast and insomnia turned into migraine, stomach dizziness and general nervous weakness. A glass of wine, which Eleanor hastened to bring her, somewhat strengthened her, and at last she had the strength to show that she had not remained insensitive to her sister's concerns.
Poor Eleanor! How I upset you! - she said.
I only regret that I can do nothing to help you or console you, ”Eleanor answered.
This - as well as anything else - Marianna could not bear and burst into tears again, managing only to exclaim with sorrow:
Ah, Elinor, how unhappy I am!
But Eleanor could no longer be a silent witness to these unrestrained torments.
Try to control yourself, Marianne, she said insistently, if you don't want to kill yourself and everyone who loves you. Think of your mother, think how hard your suffering will be for her. For her sake, you must calm down.
I can not! I can not! Marianne exclaimed. - Go away, leave me if I'm a burden to you! Oh, how easy it is for those who do not know sorrow to persuade others to calm down! Lucky Elinor, you can't even imagine what anguish I feel!
You call me lucky, Marianne! Ah, if you only knew... And how can I be happy seeing your suffering?
Forgive me, forgive me,” said Marianne, hugging her sister. - I know how you sympathize with me, I know your loving heart. And yet you... you should be happy. Edward loves you, so what can darken such happiness?
Very, very much,” said Elinor sadly.
No no no! cried Marianne, as if insane. He loves you, and only you. So what kind of grief can you have?
As long as I see you in such a state, I cannot rejoice.
But you will never see me again! Nothing can heal my grief!
Don't say that, Marianne. Don't you have any consolation? No friends? Is your loss such that it cannot be repaid? How much you suffer now, think how much more your suffering would have been if his true character had been revealed later, if your engagement had lasted for many more months before he intended to end it. Each extra day of your unfortunate ignorance would make the blow even more terrible.
Engagement? repeated Marianne. But we weren't engaged!
Were not?
No. He's not as bad as you think. He didn't give me a word.
But did he say he loves you?
Yes... no... just never. Day after day it went without saying, but I did not hear a direct confession from him. Sometimes it seemed to me that just about ... but he never uttered these words.
And yet you wrote to him?
Yes ... What could be wrong with this after everything that happened? But I can't speak...
Eleanor said nothing, and taking up the three letters again, ran through them with new curiosity. The first one, which Marianne sent him on the day of their arrival, was as follows:
Berkeley Square, January.
How surprised you will be, Willoughby, to receive this note! And I think you will not only be surprised to know that I am in London. The possibility of coming here, even in the company of Mrs. Jennings, was a temptation we could not resist. I would very much like you to receive this letter in time to visit us today, but I do not really console myself with such a hope. Whatever the case, I'll be waiting for you tomorrow. So, goodbye.
The second letter, sent the morning after the Middletons' dance, read as follows:
“I can’t express either the disappointment that seized me when you didn’t find us the day before yesterday, or the surprise that you still haven’t answered the note that I sent you almost a week ago. Daily, hourly, I expected to receive an answer from you and even more - to see you. Please come again as soon as you can and explain the reason why I waited in vain. Better come early next time, because we usually drive somewhere around an hour. Last night we were at Lady Middleton's, who had a dance. I was told that you were invited. But can it be? That's right, you've changed a lot since we met in last time if you were invited and you didn't show up. But I will not even assume such a possibility and I hope to hear from your lips very soon that it was not so.
Her third letter said:
“How am I to understand, Willoughby, your behavior yesterday? Again I demand an explanation from you. I was ready to meet you with a joy that is natural after such a long separation, with a friendly simplicity, which, it seemed to me, our closeness in Barton fully justified. And how I was pushed away! I spent a terrible night looking for excuses for actions that could hardly be called anything other than offensive. But although I have not yet been able to find any plausible excuse for your actions, I am nevertheless ready to listen to your explanations. Perhaps you were misled or deliberately deceived in something concerning me, and this lowered me in your eyes? Tell me what is the matter, tell me the reasons that prompted you to behave this way, and I will accept your excuses, having justified myself before you. It would be bitter for me to think ill of you, but if so, if I find out that you are not what we hitherto thought you were, that your good feelings for all of us were a pretense, that from the very beginning you intended only to deceive me. let it open as soon as possible. My soul is still in a terrible struggle. I would like to justify you, but otherwise my suffering will still be easier than it is now. If your feelings have changed, return my letters and my hair.
Elinor, for Willoughby's sake, would have preferred not to believe that letters so full of tenderness, such confidence, he was capable of replying in such a manner. But no matter how much she condemned him, this did not make her close her eyes to the indecency that they were written at all, and she silently lamented the ardent imprudence, which did not stint on such reckless evidence of cordial affection, which they did not even look for and for which nothing the previous one did not give grounds - negligence, which led to immeasurably grave consequences. But then Marianne, noticing the letters put aside, said that in her place, in such circumstances, anyone would write the same thing and there is nothing more than this in them.
I can easily believe that,” said Elinor. But, unfortunately, he didn't feel the same way.
No, I did, Elinor! Many, many weeks felt! I know it. Why would he not change now - and the reason can only be the blackest slander used against me - but before that I was as dear to him as my soul could desire. The curl, with such indifferent readiness returned to me, he begged to give it to him with such fervor! If you could see his look, his face at that moment and hear his voice!.. Have you forgotten our last evening with him in Barton? And the morning of our parting? When he told me that it might be months before we see each other again… his despair… How can I forget his despair!
Eleanor, I've been treated ruthlessly, but this isn't Willoughby.
Dear Marianne, but who, if not him? Who could motivate him to do such a thing?
The whole world, but not his own heart! I would rather believe that everyone who knows us conspired to ruin me in his opinion than recognize his nature as capable of such cruelty. This person he writes about - whoever she was - and everyone, yes everyone, except you, dear sister, mothers and Edward, were able to slander me cruelly. Besides you three, is there a person in the world whom I will not suspect before Willoughby, whose heart I know so well?
Eleanor did not argue and said only:
But whoever these despicable enemies of yours may be, dear sister, do not allow them to viciously triumph, but show how confidence in your purity and purity of intentions firmly supports your spirit. Pride against such base malice is noble and commendable.
No no! cried Marianne. - A grief like mine is devoid of any pride. I don't care who knows how unhappy I am. And let whoever wants to triumph over my humiliation. Elinor, Elinor, those whose sufferings are small, may be proud and inflexible as much as they like, may neglect insults or repay them with contempt, but I have no strength for that. I must suffer, I must shed tears ... and let those who are capable of such a thing rejoice.
But for my mom and me...
I would do more for you than for myself. But to appear merry when I suffer so much... Oh, who can demand that!
Again they both fell silent. Eleanor walked thoughtfully from the fireplace to the window, from the window to the fireplace, not noticing either the warmth of the fire or what was going on behind the panes, while Marianne, sitting at the foot of the bed, leaned her head against the post, took up Willoughby's letter again, and shuddered through his every phrase, and then exclaimed:
No, it's too much! Ah, Willoughby, Willoughby, did you really write that! It's cruel... it's cruel, and it's impossible to find forgiveness for this. Yes, Elinor, impossible. Whatever they told him about me, shouldn't he have had his sentence suspended? Shouldn't he have told me this, given me a chance to purify myself? “The lock with which you so obligingly honored me,” she repeated the words of the letter. - No, this cannot be excused. Willoughby, where was your heart when you wrote these words? Such a crude mockery!... Eleanor, can you justify him?
No, Marianne, he has no excuses.
And yet this person ... who knows what she is capable of? .. And how long ago was all this conceived and arranged by her? Who is she? .. Who can she be? .. At least once in our conversations, he mentioned some young beauty among his acquaintances. Ah, not one, never! He spoke to me only about me.
There was silence again. Marianne became more and more agitated, and at last she could not restrain him.
Elinor, I have to go home. I have to go back and comfort my mother. Can't we leave tomorrow?
Tomorrow, Marianne?
Yes. Why should I stay here? I've only come for Willoughby... Now why should I be here? For whom?
We can't leave tomorrow. We owe more than courtesy to Mrs. Jennings, and even simple courtesy forbids such a hasty departure.
Well, then the day after tomorrow or the next day. But I can't stay here for long. Stay to endure the questions and hints of all these people? Middletons, Palmers - how can I bear their pity? The pity of a woman like Lady Middleton! Oh, what would he say to that!
Elinor advised her to lie down again. She obeyed, but found no relief. Mental and bodily suffering did not leave her for a moment, she tossed about on the bed, sobbing more and more frantically, and it was more and more difficult for her sister to prevent her from getting up, so that she already thought with fear whether to call for help; however, the lavender drops, which she finally persuaded her to drink, had some effect, and until Mrs. Jennings returned, Marianne lay silent and motionless in her bed of torment.
Elizabeth Rudnick Beauty and the Beast. Power of love"
About what:
The young girl Belle lives in a small French village. One day her father goes to the fair. Wolves attack him in the forest. Fleeing from them, he ends up in a castle where the Beast lives. Belle returns to his horse. The girl understands that her father is in trouble, and asks the horse to take her to him. Once at the castle, Belle offers to stay instead of her father. The Beast agrees, freeing the girl's father.
Living in the castle, Belle gradually falls in love with the Beast, who, in turn, also lets the girl into his heart. Both understand that they are made for each other.
Meanwhile, Belle's father returns to the village and gathers people to rescue, as he thinks, his daughter from the captivity of a terrible Beast.
Excerpt from the book:
Meanwhile, Belle stood in her room, and while Madame de Wardrobe dressed her, she was terribly nervous. Ever since the Beast had asked her to join him in the ballroom for a "special" evening with him, she had always felt like she had butterflies in her stomach. And the less time remained until the evening, the stronger this strange feeling became.
Since they returned from Paris, Belle felt that her relationship with the Beast had changed. The owner of the castle was by her side when she was very vulnerable and supported her. Now they talked not only about books. Their walks in the garden got longer and Belle didn't want them to end. The girl found herself looking forward to dinner, not so much for the delicious food as for the company. If Belle had a friend, the girl would probably tell her that, oddly enough, she became very attached to the Beast.
And in a few minutes she would go dancing with him in the ballroom. The girl sighed. How did it come to this?
Hearing her sigh, Madame de Wardrobe took it for an expression of impatience, and after straightening the folds of her ball gown for the last time, allowed the girl to turn and look at herself in the mirror.
Film Beauty and the Beast. 2017 film adaptation
Photo: Frame from the film "Beauty and the Beast"
Belle gasped. From the very first day of her stay at the castle, Belle felt a certain awkwardness, allowing Madame de Wardrobe to dress herself. They said several times that Belle does not like clothes richly decorated with frills, and that the girl prefers, first of all, comfortable outfits, the hem of which does not drag along the floor, but which have pockets - unfortunately Wardrobe.
Gradually, however, Madame de Wardrobe began to come up with outfits that fit Belle perfectly, and tonight she completely surpassed herself. Belle didn't recognize the girl with the big brown eyes reflected in the mirror at first. Her hair was gathered at the back of her head, revealing her cheekbones, slightly touched by rouge. And the dress… Belle couldn't have imagined such a gorgeous dress. A wide, fluffy skirt hovered above the floor like a golden halo. At the slightest movement, the dress shimmered, reflecting the light. She moved one of her drawers, and suddenly a cloud of golden powder fell from the ceiling, which fell on the dress, making it even more beautiful. In addition, moving in this weightless, like a feather, outfit was very easy.
Satisfied with her job, Madame de Wardrobe pushed Belle out the door.
For several seconds, the girl stood in the corridor, listening to how often, often her heart beats. It's only one evening, she thought. “Stop hesitating and finally go down this ladder.”
Taking a deep breath, Belle walked down the long corridor leading to the front stairs. When she reached it, the girl looked up at the top of the stairs leading to the west wing. And she was surprised to see that the Beast was already standing there, dressed in his best dress coat, and it seemed as nervous as Belle herself. Their eyes met. Then the Beast bowed its head and extended its paw, silently inviting Belle to join him. The girl approached and, without hesitation, put her hand into a huge palm.
They walked down the central flight of the front staircase together. With every step, Belle's anxiety faded. She liked to walk like this, hand in hand, next to the Beast. And when the owner of the castle wanted to take her to the dining room, it was she who pulled him to dance.
Belle sensed the Beast's uncertainty as they stepped out into the center of the ballroom, but then suddenly magical music began to play and the awkwardness vanished. The hall, washed to a shine, shone, lit by hundreds of candles, everything around sparkled and shimmered, including Belle's golden dress. Resting her head on the Beast's shoulder, Belle closed her eyes and enjoyed the dance.
She lost track of time and did not know how long they circled like that. The legs moved as if by themselves, repeating the movements of the Beast. It seemed that Belle and the Beast had been dancing like this for many years, and the girl was again amazed at how easy and at ease she felt next to the owner of the castle. When the music finally stopped and the ballroom fell silent, Belle felt terribly sad for some reason.
As if sensing this, the Beast did not let go of her hand. Instead, it led the girl to a terrace that encircled the ballroom in a semicircle. For a while they did not say a word, contemplating the starry sky in friendly silence. It was fresh - it was always winter around the enchanted castle, but not cold. It seemed to Belle that the Beast still hugged her waist and the heat of the ballroom magically warmed her even on the street.
I haven't danced in years,” said the Beast, breaking the silence. - Almost forgot what it's like. The owner of the castle turned and looked at Belle. There was warmth in his eyes, and something else. He shrugged his shoulders nervously, as if not knowing what to say next. Belle waited, silently trying to cheer him up. Finally the Beast spoke again. "I suppose it's foolish for a being like me to hope to win your affection one day."
Belle hesitated. It's not stupid at all. At least it didn't seem stupid a few seconds ago.
I don't know…" she said softly.
Hope lit up in the monster's eyes.
Truth? it asked. - Do you think you could be happy here?
Maurice appeared in Belle's mind's eye, and the girl shuddered: for a while she completely forgot about him.
My father taught me to dance. There was always music in our house. It sounded so sad that Belle grimaced a little: she didn't want to spoil such a wonderful evening.
You must miss him, - said the Beast, from which her sadness did not hide.
Belle nodded.
At the sight of tears in Belle's eyes, the Beast sighed: it hurt him to see the girl's suffering, especially when you remember that he could alleviate this suffering.
Come with me," it said, taking Belle's hand.
They left the terrace, passed through the ballroom. When Belle asked where they were going, the Beast didn't answer and was silent until they arrived at his room. There it handed the girl a small mirror with the words:
Show me Maurice.
The surface of the mirror rippled, and after a few moments, Belle's reflection disappeared. Now the mirror showed the old master. The girl watched in horror as her father was dragged through the town square. The old man's face contorted in fear, he called for help.
Dad! Belle exclaimed. - What are they doing to him?
In fact, the Beast hoped to please Belle by giving her the opportunity to see her father, however, judging by her reaction, everything turned out the other way around. The owner of the castle looked over Belle's shoulder, and his eyes widened as he saw what was happening to the old man. He was overcome with compassion, and it was also very painful to see Belle suffer. Then the Beast looked at the glass jar, under which a rose hung in the air.
Another petal fell before his eyes.
The Beast heard Mrs. Potts' words as if in reality, then remembered again how he had held Belle's hand just a while ago. He imagined his servants looking at him hopefully. She looked back at Belle and saw the longing in her eyes. The owner of the castle realized that it was time to make a choice. But he also knew that he had no choice: he simply could not do otherwise.
You must go to him,” he said, trying not to let his voice betray his pain.
Belle looked at him.
What you said? she asked in shock.
You are no longer a prisoner here,” the Beast continued. - There is no time to waste.
Belle looked up at him, her eyes now glistening with tears of gratitude. She wanted to say so much, she had so much to say... But she didn't know how to begin. The girl handed the mirror to the owner of the castle, but he shook his head.
Leave him alone,” he said. “You might want to see me again.
Thank you,” Belle whispered. She added to herself, “Thank you for everything.”
And then, afraid to change her mind, she turned and ran out of the room.
Liz Braswell Beauty and the Beast. Another Belle Story"
About what:
This story is very similar to classic story Beauty and the Beast, only the sorceress turns out to be Belle's own mother, who was kept locked up for many years. And the Beast doesn't turn back into a human. Together with Belle, they have yet to find a way to disenchant him.
Excerpt from the book:
The monster put its huge paws on Belle's shoulders and squeezed tightly.
Save my people. They are not to blame for anything, all these years they looked after the castle and took care of me. They deserve freedom.
And then the Beast hugged Belle to his chest as tightly as he dared. The girl sobbed softly, then went limp in his arms. Things didn't go as planned, but now she felt completely safe. They'll think of something.
“Oh,” Rosalind murmured, a little surprised. - As you wish. If you really want it
Despite the Beast's desire to disenchant the servants as soon as possible, it was a dark, cold night outside - not a good time to travel, especially for Rosalind. Therefore, Belle, her parents and the Beast decided to return to the village along with everyone else and spend the night at home - however, they fell asleep only in the morning. Too many curious visitors wished to pay a visit to the strange half-man, half-monster king. In addition, memory gradually returned to people, and many came to ask if it was true that in childhood they saw girls with hooves instead of feet and boys with pointed ears.
In the end, Maurice sent the last guest out, bolted the door, and the little family - as well as their guest - fell into a sound sleep. The Belle family is finally reunited. In the middle of the night, the girl woke up and looked into her parents' room: Maurice and Rosalind slept peacefully, embracing, illuminated by moonlight.
Belle could hear the Beast snoring in her sleep: it lay down to sleep on the rug in front of the fireplace, curled up like a dog, but a pillow was slipped under its head and an old blanket was covered on top. Before falling back to sleep, Belle lay back for a while with her eyes open, enjoying the warmth and comfort of her home.
When the sun rose and it got a little warmer, all four went to the castle.
Philip was harnessed to a sleigh borrowed from one of the townspeople. Rosalind sat in the sleigh, wrapped in a whole pile of blankets, and still shivered and trembled with weakness. Maurice rode with his wife, and Belle - on a poor horse. From time to time the Beast took the place of a tired horse and silently, without complaint, dragged the sled.
The sun was already quite high when they finally reached the castle. The snow around him had partially melted, and the most persistent snowdrifts sparkled and shimmered in the sun. The cobwebs also melted before our eyes, whitish threads dissolved and disappeared, as if they had never existed, dripping from the walls.
Ha. Not bad, said Rosalind, admiring her handiwork.
Mom, I actually lived here in captivity, - Belle said softly. - Like all these unfortunate people.
Her mother felt sad, remembering what her rash act had led to.
Everything in the castle was the same as on the evening when Belle first came here: cold and dark. Only now the girl expected that small living things would run out to meet her, and their absence made the atmosphere even more dull and sad. Entering the kitchen, Belle immediately saw a sad still life on the table - a chandelier, a teapot and a clock - and almost burst into tears.
Last time they were so ... alive ... - Maurice muttered in surprise.
Rosalind was obviously very tired and cold from the road and was just beginning to warm up, but she neither objected nor complained. With an expression of grim determination on her face, the sorceress began to sing.
Belle watched her in surprise. Rosalind turned out to be a difficult person... Not too kind and compassionate, she was definitely very brave and, once making a decision that she considered right, she was always ready to go to the end. But that's exactly what good people should do. Yes, Rosalind erred, made mistakes, and did not always restrain her power.
“This is my real mom. So what if she's not perfect?
There was a strange aroma in the air... This is how fresh pine and spring smell: not the brittle spruce needles of the solstice and Christmas, but the soft, bright green branches of March.
The clock on the table stretched, as if waking up after a long sleep, yawned, and then began to increase, becoming more and more, until it turned into a short, plump man with a mustache. He was a little pale, perhaps, but otherwise he looked quite alive and well.
My God! said Cogsworth, looking at his plump hands and moving his fingers. - I ... became myself again! And what about the curse?
He jumped off the table, saw the Beast and Belle, and immediately knew something was wrong.
it Long story Belle smiled. - We'll tell you everything later.
I’ll be looking forward to it,” Cogsworth replied, perhaps a little dryly. The ideal majordomo: did not allow himself a drop of emotion. The monster smiled slightly.
Then it was Lumiere's turn, who turned into a rather handsome, albeit long-nosed fellow. As soon as he was able to move, he immediately bowed and kissed Belle on both cheeks.
Ma chérie…” he exclaimed, smiling from ear to ear. “I don’t know how you did it, but from the very beginning I believed that you would be able to remove the curse!” - Then he noticed the Beast ...
And shrugged.
Well, no one is perfect.
Then it was Mrs. Potts's turn, and the housekeeper began to bounce and spin around the table before she had even finished transforming into a human.
Honestly! she exclaimed. - Where is my son? Chip? Turn Chip!
Belle carefully opened the glass cupboard doors, took out a small cup, and handed it to the housekeeper. Moments later, Mrs. Potts had a writhing five-year-old toddler in her arms, too big to hold.
Chip! cried the housekeeper, clutching her son to her breast. Looking at her, Belle realized that Mrs. Potts was much younger than she always thought: it was just that the housekeeper always behaved so emphatically politely and spoke so confidently that she gave the impression of a woman in years. We are human again! Oh Charles...
The Beast and Belle exchanged smiles. If he had any doubts about his decision, now they completely disappeared.
The Beast and Belle exchanged smiles. If he had any doubts about his decision, now they completely disappeared.
Rosalind's magic was enough for all the servants. The last to break the spell was the obnoxious maid-panicle, who turned into the same obnoxious girl. If before Lumiere had any interest in her, now his feelings disappeared - after the maid took up arms against the enchanters.
Belle felt happy, but she couldn’t do anything because of fatigue - she couldn’t even rest properly. The castle was filled with the pops of opened champagne, joyful laughter and music - for a hundred years there has not been such a holiday here. And yet the girl did not want to participate in this fun. This is not her holiday. She just got into trouble, unknowingly ruined everything, and then tried to help as much as she could to fix what she had done. She returned to her old bedroom and sat on the bed, wondering what to do next.
Hey dear, let's go!
A woman, formerly a "cloakroom", who was actually called Anna, looked into the room. She turned out to be very tall, with a funny, bony face - she would have gone the image of Joan of Arc or a medieval warrior princess. Anna's cheeks were flushed with wine, and in her hand she held a golden goblet.
A little later,” Belle said politely.
Better hurry up, otherwise there will be nothing left, - Anna joked and, saluting the girl with a goblet, walked away with an unsteady gait.
Belle sighed and looked out the window at the snowy landscape. In the rose garden, a gray spot darkened on the white snow. Just a few weeks ago, the girl would have thought that this was some unfortunate tramp, but now she immediately recognized her mother. Rosalind sat hunched on the ground, all alone, and seemed to be thinking about something.
Belle jumped up and ran downstairs, stopping only to drape her cloak over her shoulders and grab another one for her mother.
Spring was still very far away, but the bright sun already hinted at the approach of warm days: cheerful drops rang everywhere, and the air barely perceptibly smelled of smoke. Belle walked carefully, noting in passing that her shoes were cracked and worn: it was high time to patch them up and put in new soles. Unless the prince orders new ones for her.
What a strange thought. Belle winced slightly.
"Kings, monsters and sorceresses instead of mothers... and I seem to care only about one thing: if the guy will give me a new pair of shoes."
She smiled, but the smile left her face at the sight of her mother;
As if catching the mood of her daughter, the woman brightened her face.
Belle! Come sit with me,” she suggested briskly as she moved. Rosalind did not seem to care about the condition of her own clothes. Belle carefully sat down beside her and draped the cloak she had brought over her mother's shoulders. We have so much to do to catch up! I want to know everything.
What were you thinking now? You looked very sad,” Belle said.
Oh. Rosalind shrugged and grimaced, as if the movement hurt her. “I was thinking about what Frederic said… d’Arc… What if he was right in his own way? Maybe enchanters really think differently, act differently than people who do not own magic? Perhaps we instinctively behave differently than is customary in a normal society?
Belle sighed.
Or maybe it's you, Rosalind, my mother acting differently than everyone else? Citizens, servants, rulers? Maybe it's you personally who put yourself above the law and decide what is good and what is not? You are now doing the same thing as d'Arc ... judging all people by your actions. This is ridiculous. It doesn’t matter if you are a Huguenot, a Catholic, a Jew or a Gypsy, short or dark-skinned, or maybe your skin is generally blue. All people are different. Each person has a soul, and each person controls his own destiny.
Rosalind looked at her daughter with a sly smile.
Very intelligent and wise speech. I see you, as before, read a lot.
Not much in the last few days," Belle smiled.
Do the villagers still take you for a weirdo?
Yeah. Belle stretched her legs and looked down at her shoes. At least that was the case until yesterday. I don't know what they think of me now.
I'm glad Levi agreed to be your godfather. You two are just perfect.
Too bad I only found out yesterday that he's my godfather. I wish I knew this sooner.
Desires, Rosalind sighed. - It is a pity that I did not restrain my character in due time. I'm sorry I cursed the prince. I should have felt sorry for the king and queen, and not think about how to punish them more painfully. I was overwhelmed with strength, but I lacked wisdom. And now it's the other way around ... I have no strength left at all, and I'm just starting to get smarter.
Belle didn't know what to say. They talked with their mother like… adults. Not like a mother with a child who wants to learn how to make cookies, cries over a broken knee, or wants to be read to a book. This was not at all how she imagined reuniting with her mother.
Gravel rustled somewhere nearby. Belle raised her head, and her eyes met, perhaps, the strangest sight of all that she had seen in the last month: her father and the Beast were walking side by side, talking enthusiastically about something. For a moment, the girl looked at them, unable to put this picture in her head. Father is so serious... what, I wonder, are they talking about?
Hello ladies,” said Maurice, smiling from ear to ear. - We saw you coming here...avoiding the crowd?
I feel a little uncomfortable when there are a lot of people,” Rosalind admitted. - I got used to it. How are your subjects, king?
They abuse it, - the Beast answered, smiling slightly. Does he have wrinkles around his eyes? Do monsters do this? - They deserve it.
I've been thinking about your… situation," the sorceress continued. Belle was a little offended by this definition.
The strongest spells, spells and curses can be broken if several wizards take up the cause. For example, there were few of us at Belle's christening, so it was not possible to create strong spells. I am absolutely sure that the curse can be broken if you find a few strong magicians.
The monster looked dejectedly at Rosalind.
But after all, there are no enchanters left at all, except for a few poor fellows whom we released from the lunatic asylum.
Oh, many managed to escape before all these horrors began in the kingdom. You just have to find them,” said Rosalind nonchalantly.
And if we find them, where do we hide them so they're safe? It is necessary that they agree to go with us, - the Beast noticed. What happened here happened in the New World. Enchanters are in danger everywhere.
There is one safe place," Belle exclaimed. She came up with a great idea.
Everyone looked at her.
How can you not understand? This is the safest place for them in the whole world! - The girl waved her hands, pointing to the castle and the valley. - Your curse is only partially lifted. Both the castle and all its inhabitants are forgotten, which means that no one remembers this place. You can find all the remaining enchanters and transport them here. Give them a new home. Then… you will be disenchanted.
Hmmm,” said Rosalind thoughtfully. - Not bad. The idea is a little strange, considering that in this kingdom we all almost got killed ... but it sounds tempting. Yes, I like. Get on the road, find everyone you can and bring them home. Honestly, it's the least you can do after what your parents did.
Maurice looked meaningfully at Rosalind and drew his eyebrows together a little, but she just shrugged her shoulders.
The monster blinked.
Go searching? To me?
Yes. Why not? Belle smiled broadly, guessing his thoughts. “You will have to go to the world you have been watching in the magic mirror for so long.
Together with you,” the Beast replied quickly. I can do anything if you're by my side.
Belle smiled widely and was about to answer...
... and then she saw that Maurice and Rosalind were looking at her and waiting for her to answer.
Belle has found a family again. Now she has a mother - the most interesting, unusual mother in the world - whom she has just met. There is so much to ask her, so much to talk about.
But this is her chance to go on the adventure she's been dreaming of. The opportunity to see the wild islands of Greece, dense forests, even Paris and Rome ... They could travel the world in search of hermit enchanters, and if they found them, they would return them home. Just think how much they could see!
It's not fair.
Go, Belle, she said firmly. “If I were you, I wouldn’t hesitate a second. You can always come back here, and I will always wait for you here. And we can talk to our heart's content. Everyone needs to travel from time to time, and everyone needs a home to return to when they travel. Go on an adventure, look at the world, and then return home - because you are loved here.
Maurice looked at his daughter with a slight sadness.
I was so happy that both my girls were together again ... but we have so many things to do that the time will fly by quickly - we will not have time to blink an eye when you return home.
What business? Belle asked.
Well, there will be a lot of worries in the village now, ”her father answered with a sorrowful smile. - People have found long-lost relatives who turned out to be enchanters ... as well as those unfortunate ones who are really ... out of their minds. Many spent so many years in that terrible prison ... I think the next few months will not be easy, and the townspeople may need the help of a couple of ... eccentrics.
And there is also your castle, - Rosalind picked up, pointing to the window, from the windowsill of which hung like a flag, a pair of women's stockings. “When this turmoil calms down a little, your people will have to decide how to live on. I'm sure some of them will want to stay... but some will no longer want to be servants... After all, there is a whole world outside, and you yourself will leave.
The monster looked at her thoughtfully.
I could appoint Lumiere and Cogsworth as my deputies...
Well thought out, - Belle supported him, already imagining how it would end: the final word would always be with Mrs. Potts.
The monster looked at her.
Will you come with me, Belle? Will you help me? We may not succeed... I may remain a monster forever.
No," Belle smiled and stroked his nose. You will always be my prince.
Well, you're certainly not the perfect son-in-law - I mean, because of your parents, not because of your looks," Rosalind said quickly. - But you're definitely a lot better than this bumpkin Gaston... What kind of person is he, by the way? One of the released patients of the lunatic asylum?
Belle almost choked on laughter.
No, and he did not propose to me for the first time.
I think, - suggested Maurice, embracing the happy couple by the shoulders, - we should finally be together this evening before you set off ... just the four of us. There are so many things to say before parting.
And most of these stories, Belle observed, almost have happy endings.
Elizabeth Rudnick "Maleficent. True love story"
About what:
Maleficent is a fairy. But in her youth, she fell in love with a man who betrayed her by cutting off her wings. The young man later became king. And Maleficent became the queen of the fairies. Her heart was filled with hatred and vengeance. And so, in order to take revenge on the man who betrayed her, she curses his daughter, dooming her to death from a spindle prick. But everything would be fine, but Maleficent begins to have warm feelings for the princess, whom she recently wished for death. She understands that the real monster is the king, cruel and treacherous. It's not the poor girl's fault.
Excerpt from the book:
Magical energy swirled in a whirlpool, the curtains on the windows trembled, the wind rushed into the Great Hall, and right before the eyes of Stefan and his soldiers, Diaval began to transform. Its wings stretched out, its black plumage was replaced by dark scales, and soon the figure that appeared instead of a raven stretched almost the entire length of the hall. Diaval's beak turned into a mouth full of sharp teeth, his neck extended to the very ceiling. The two bird legs became long, powerful, scaly legs. Giant, razor-sharp claws appeared at the end of each and dug into the stone floor. Diaval threw back his head and roared deafeningly. Before the terrified soldiers stood a creature they had never seen before, which even on these magical lands considered mythical. Diaval turned into a dragon.
Maleficent lifted her head, watching the shocked Stefan back away. If not for this unbearable pain, Maleficent would certainly have smiled, looking at the fear-stricken king. Then, turning her head slightly, she saw Aurora rise to her feet and rush away. As Maleficent managed to notice, the girl disappeared on a long staircase that led to the castle tower. Now Maleficent allowed herself to smile, because no matter what happened next, no matter how much more pain Stefan inflicted on Maleficent or Diaval on Stefan, Aurora would never see it again. She will be saved from this horror. And after what this girl had to go through, experiencing one less horror was an invaluable gift for her.
Aurora ran away, and Diaval continued to destroy everything in the Great Hall. With one stroke of his tail, he knocked over part of the soldiers to the ground, and with a roar, he released a jet of flame from his mouth on the rest. As he raised his head, the two great horns that crowned it crashed into one of the large chandeliers, and it shattered into a thousand pieces. Crystal crumbs rained down on the standing soldiers, causing them to howl in pain.
Maleficent remained lying under the iron net, curled up in a helpless ball, losing the last of her strength with every moment. Her staff lay too far away for her to reach. Without him, Maleficent felt even more helpless. Now she could only lie and listen to Diaval's roar, unable to do anything, while the soldiers ran past her away, trying to escape from the fire-breathing dragon. She could only lie there and think, "This is all my fault."
The minutes dragged on like hours, and Maleficent began to think that she would never be able to break out of her iron dungeon. Then, through the blinding pain, she heard the sound of approaching footsteps. Unlike the hurried, frightened footsteps of the soldiers, these steps sounded confident and firm. Maleficent looked up, already guessing who it was.
Stefan approached, keeping his eyes on Maleficent's crushed iron net. That look pierced through her, leaving no trace of the feelings that Stefan had once felt for her. For the first time, Maleficent truly saw how pathetic this man had become. He changed not only externally - from a flexible young man he turned into a heavy old man, his smooth face was covered with a network of deep wrinkles - but also internally. He became cold, cruel - it was enough to remember how he strangled King Henry, and cut off her own wings. Before Maleficent hated him for it - now, perhaps, she was just sorry for him. There was nothing left of the boy she had fallen in love with on the heather marshes. Not a hint of the cheerful gaiety that was so characteristic of him in those days when they chatted carelessly near the peat bogs or walked walking through the forest. The man in front of her was hard, cold, heartless. The years he spent building iron walls around the castle turned into the fact that he actually surrounded his heart with an iron wall. Looking into his eyes, Maleficent felt pity. Pity and fear. It was impossible to predict what he was going to do. Maleficent made a desperate effort to reach for her staff, but it was still too far away.
Noticing her movement, Stefan grinned evilly.
I still regret not killing you that night,” he said sharply.
These words hurt Maleficent deeply, all the pity she had begun to feel for Stefan immediately vanished. Maleficent was flooded with memories of that old night when this man broke her heart by stealing her wings. Yes, probably, in vain he did not kill her then. That night marked the beginning of a whole chain of terrible events. In a way, she made Maleficent almost as heartless a monster as he was, and that was until she met Aurora and everything started to change. But she will never admit it to him. Not now, that's for sure. Instead, Maleficent summoned the last of her strength and said:
You have always been weak.
Stefan's face turned red, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword tightly. Maleficent realized that she had gone too far. But what does it matter now? Her chances of being saved, frankly, are slim. As if to confirm this, Stefan raised a heavy sword over Maleficent's head and lowered it with a loud yell.
Maleficent closed her eyes, waiting for the blow.
But there was no blow.
Instead, there was a roar, then a dull thud. Opening her eyes, Maleficent saw that Stefan was lying on the floor a few steps away from her, and the dragon Diaval was standing above her. She smiled at him, and the dragon bent its long neck and, carefully grasping the iron net with its sharp teeth, pulled it. Maleficent is finally free.
After escaping, Maleficent grabbed the staff first and jumped to her feet. Blood streamed down her arms and legs, her head was spinning, and she leaned heavily on the staff. Taking several deep breaths, waiting for her mind to clear, she straightened up and looked around - chaos reigned around her. Soldiers scattered in all directions from the giant monster standing in the middle of the hall. Diaval had already broken almost all the chandeliers in the Great Hall, scorched its walls black with his fiery breath. Huge claws left deep scratches in the stone floor, and a powerful tail managed to knock down several large columns that adorned the main entrance to the hall. Looking around, Maleficent saw that Stefan struggled to his feet and resolutely moved towards her. But the king did not go far. Diaval blocked his path, let out a deafening roar, and resumed his battle with Stephen and his soldiers.
Taking advantage of this, Maleficent slipped unnoticed to the stairs. She needed to find Aurora...immediately.
Climbing to the top step, Maleficent turned around. She looked at how Diaval fought, trying to keep the enemy at a distance. But more and more soldiers ran into the hall. They were fully armed, and Diaval was still not really used to being in the body of a dragon. Maleficent saw the horror in his eyes as he swept a few more people to the ground with his tail. Then Diaval turned to the far wall of the hall, rushed at it with a run and broke it, knocking down the iron sheets suspended from the opposite side of the wall to the ground. In the gap, Maleficent saw one of the numerous towers of the castle, which turned out to be nearby. There were no footholds on its walls, so the soldiers could not climb it. But Diaval's claws cut through the stone with ease. Seeing a chance for salvation, Diaval began to climb up the wall of the tower and soon disappeared from sight.
Only now, seeing that Diaval and Aurora landed safely, Maleficent's heart began to beat again, and her lungs inhaled air greedily. What happiness!
Maleficent turned around, frantically looking around. Where could Aurora have gone? A long passage opened on the right, and there was a similar passage on the left. Ahead, a huge door swayed slightly on its hinges. Here it is! Slipping through the door, Maleficent found another set of stairs in front of her. It spiraled steeply upwards, higher and higher, and led to the top of the very tower on which Diaval was climbing at that moment. Maleficent began to quickly climb the stairs, her heart pounding with fear - she did not know what she would find at the top. Aurora was not familiar with the castle, did not understand what the sight of soldiers running in panic or cruel angry men means. All her life she had been protected from such things, and now she was thrown into the crucible of trials, becoming a witness to the worst manifestations. human nature. The thought of Aurora running around the castle, frightened and alone, hurt Maleficent. She quickened her steps and finally reached the room at the top of the tower. It was empty. On the far side of the wall was a door leading to long bridge connecting this tower with the neighboring one. And in the middle of the bridge stood Aurora. With a sigh of relief, Maleficent rushed forward.
But her relief was short-lived.
There was a whistle behind Maleficent, and then a familiar pain shot through her body. Looking around, Maleficent saw Stefan. In his hands he held a long iron whip, and the look of the king was completely insane. Stefan strode forward, lashing out in front of him with his whip. Maleficent did not flinch and raised her staff. She won't let him defeat her. Not now. Not when the Aurora is so close. Squinting, Maleficent stepped forward with determination and swung her staff.
The sound of wood hitting iron reverberated over the bridge. Stefan continued to strike with his whip - Maleficent deflected them with her staff. Stefan and Maleficent moved back and forth, their movements reminiscent of a terrible parody of a romantic waltz dancing couple. In the heat of the fight, Stefan and Maleficent moved from one bridge to another, but neither of them turned around - both were determined to win. Maleficent forgot that Aurora was very close. I forgot that I came to save her. Right now she only thought about defeating Stefan, ending him once and for all. Make him pay for the pain he caused her and her daughter. Blinding fury drove all thought out of Maleficent's mind, causing her to strike again and again with the staff.
They were so absorbed in the fight that they did not even notice how the ground was shaking under their feet. They did not see that Diaval continued to climb the wall of the tower, trying to reach its roof and sprinkling the ground below with fragments of stones and fragments of iron. And just like that, they did not notice that Aurora was standing on a small bridge directly below them. The bridge is shaking. Pieces of the tower now and then broke against him, threatening to break through. Aurora could only helplessly watch what was happening.
And suddenly the bridge collapsed.
Maleficent heard a heart-rending scream, and her rage instantly evaporated, giving way to fear. Turning around, she saw the falling Aurora. The girl grabbed the air with her hands, as if trying to slow her fall. Useless! The earth was rapidly approaching. Maleficent began to look around frantically, looking for at least some opportunity to save her beloved Aurora. But there was nothing that could help. The magic she wielded wasn't strong enough for that, Maleficent didn't even have wings to fly. Then she saw Diaval, and hope arose in her. Aurora was as dear to Diaval as to Maleficent. He won't let her die.
Having climbed onto the roof of the tower, Diaval did not take his eyes off Aurora. Seeing her fall, he flapped his mighty wings, fell off the roof and rushed after the princess.
Maleficent's heart stopped as she watched the huge black body of Diaval, flying like a rock down after the small figure of Aurora. Diaval fell faster and faster. Then he stretched out his paws, wrapped them around Aurora and pulled her close to him in the instant before they both collapsed to the ground.
Only now, seeing that Diaval and Aurora landed safely, Maleficent's heart began to beat again, and her lungs inhaled air greedily. What happiness! If Diaval were late even for a second...
Maleficent screamed as the whip's iron chain wound around her arm. Unprepared for the pain, she released the staff and now watched helplessly as it flew down from the bridge.
Seeing that Maleficent had nothing else to defend himself with, Stefan laughed angrily and began to snap his whip. Covering her face with her hands, Maleficent looked for an opportunity to run. Taking a few steps back, she gasped as she felt air under her foot instead of hard ground. Glancing back, she found herself standing on the edge of a bridge. There was nowhere else to go.
Turning, Maleficent met Stefan's eyes. "Here comes the end," she thought sadly, looking at the wry grin of the king. Years of hatred and battles. The erected walls are iron and thorny. Insignificant buildings. They were not destined to finish off Maleficent or Stefan. The end of one of them will put a fall from a height. Fall into oblivion. Maleficent sighed, preparing to face her inevitable death. I watched Stefan's smirk widen as he, too, was looking forward to the inevitable.
And then his smile was blown away.
Behind her, Maleficent heard a whistle, then felt something that she had not felt for many, many years - peace and wholeness. The feeling is almost as strong as her love for Aurora. Smiling, Maleficent slowly turned around.
Her wings floated in the air. They were as strong and beautiful as they had been the day Stefan had taken them from her, and Maleficent let out a small cry. "How can this be?!" she thought. Had the wings been here in the castle all this time? But if they were here, then who set them free? Looking down, Maleficent saw Aurora and suddenly understood everything. Aurora somehow found the lost part of Maleficent. Smiling broadly, Maleficent turned her back to her wings and spread her arms.
The tower shook as if struck by lightning, and Maleficent vanished in a flash of magical light. When it dissipated, Maleficent and her wings were once again one. The fairy rose high into the air and began to soar, enjoying a long-forgotten sensation. She never thought that this day would come. Now she had almost everything she could want in this world.
While Maleficent wanted nothing more than to rise high into the sky and forget about all the problems left below, diving and soaring in the air, feeling free again, there was one more thing that needed to be completed. Gliding sharply down, she hit Stefan with her strong wing. The king staggered back and swayed, trying to stay on his feet. Flying closer, Maleficent pinned Stefan against the wall of the tower. She leaned forward so that her face was almost close to Stefan's.
You won't kill me." Stefan tried unsuccessfully to sound confident. - I'm her father.
For a while, Maleficent silently looked at the king, struggling with herself. No one has ever wanted to kill Maleficent as much as Stefan. She knew he deserved it. But before Stefan betrayed her, Maleficent never thought about revenge, never wanted to hurt anyone or anything. Stefan changed all that the day he broke her heart. But if Maleficent killed him now, wouldn't that mean she'd let him take the best of her? Wouldn't it be possible for her to let him win? Aurora can forgive her a lot, but will the murder of her father forgive her?
Sighing, Maleficent pushed Stefan away, dropped to the ground, and took a step back. She waited to see if this act of mercy would awaken the heart of the man she had once loved. But instead he said:
I want you to know that I never loved you.
Ah, Stefan," Maleficent replied with a bitter laugh. You never knew how to lie.
About what:
The mysterious handsome Leander Fitzmore goes to the most ordinary London school and immediately finds himself in the spotlight. The "Star Club" of the first three beauties of the class go out of their way to please him or spend time with him. He is the owner of a stunning appearance, an athletic figure, gallant, polite, kind, courteous. The list of its merits is endless. In a word, the boy from the picture, the ideal that every girl secretly dreams of. And certainly such guys do not choose awkward, nondescript girls who suffer from constant ridicule from classmates as girlfriends. Only if the life of the entire elven people depends on his choice.
Contrary to all stereotypes, this cherub just turns his attention to Felicity Morgan. A girl with a very ordinary appearance. She wears braces, absolutely does not know how to dress and take care of herself, and she is also regularly late for lessons, because she helps her mother in the pub at night. How can this attract a guy from the cover of a glossy magazine?
Everything is simple. This is the same girl - the Chosen One, indicated by prophecy, and the future of all elves depends on her. Leander understands that he will have a hard time, but nothing can be done, a prophecy is a prophecy.
Excerpt from the book:
I went crazy with curiosity. I was simply pissed off. Just think: the future depends on this girl. The future of an entire nation. And I had the honor of protecting this girl. I'll tell you more: my own future was now firmly tied to her: I was to marry her! True, it was necessary to get to know her first, which is why I entered Horton College London, in Westminster.
In fact, all these schools are the same. Everything, like everyone else. Adolescents who, as they like to talk about them, are ahead of the search for themselves and the choice life path, loudly argued about sports, about parties, talked competently about pretty girls. The girls, for the most part, giggled, huddled together according to their interests, cared mostly about their appearance, chatted about clothes and, of course, washed the bones to their friends and whispered about the boys.
As soon as I, a newcomer, entered the school corridor, everyone just stared at me. Okay, I'm used to it. The girls already adored me, I could see it in their eyes, and in the way they nervously pulled their dresses, smoothed their hair and licked their lips.
And the headmaster, Mrs. Haley-Wood, was no better. Women are not immune to male beauty, and age does not play a role here. No, that's it! Oh, if only she knew how old I really am ...
The director personally took me around the school, showing me where I was, and introduced me to my new classmates. And her voice at the same time, I'm sure, sounded higher and sharper than usual. She chatted incessantly, poured out trite remarks and giggled like a teenager.
Here are some of your new classmates, Mr. Fitzmore.
Yeah, well, well, interesting, we'll see. Three puppet-like young ladies, dressed, however, stylishly, beautiful, in general, pictures, and not girls, and one young man of my age. Well, not mine, of course, I just pretended to be a teenager.
The brunette on the left was especially good, shamelessly beautiful! Sensual look, expressive makeup, pleated skirt, perfectly matched jewelry. She shot me a coquettish look from under thick long lashes.
Mr. Fitzmore, let me introduce you,” the headmistress sang, stopping in front of the four, “Cynthia, Jack, Ava and Felicity. And this, my dears, is Leander Fitzmore, the new student. I hope you take care of him.
Mrs. Haley-Wood shook my hand and took her leave. And I immediately forgot about her. So here it is, it's started! Well, I was lucky: here is my fate, this beautiful brunette, standing right in front of me and smiling sweetly. It was her I was looking for. Our future depends on it. I'm marrying her! Breathtaking, a miracle how good!
And I was worried! I was afraid in vain, everything will be easier than I feared. I gave her my signature look and, as expected, she immediately melted away.
Leander, what an unusual name,” said the blond Cynthia.
Just call me Lee, please. All my friends call me that.
I dutifully followed her. When is it customary to kiss for the first time? It is too early? Okay, let's wait.
I looked into Felicity's eyes, held my gaze for a moment, she flushed and became even more wonderful. Hmm, perhaps this is even too simple. And I might as well not get it. Felicity could be, for example, that awkward fat woman with disheveled hair, in some impossible T-shirt. On the back is an immense backpack with textbooks. God, she's still sneezing! Here's another sneeze made her stumble, and she crashed out of the blue, falling right on her backpack. Oh, she also has braces on her teeth! Absurdity in the flesh, and nothing more.
I could not help but smirk in disdain as I looked at this unfortunate creature, this "blue stocking" of modern times. Most likely, she will become a feminist and will fight for women's rights or a teacher. Or maybe sit down at the checkout in the supermarket. That is where her story ends.
A warm hand rested on my shoulder. Felicity smiled in a feminine, calculated way, fluttering her eyelashes. This one knows how to attract a man. She is not only beautiful, she is brave and determined. No wonder - after all, it is she who was predicted, this is our ancient prophecy about her.
Come on, I'll show you our class.
I dutifully followed her. When is it customary to kiss for the first time? It is too early? Okay, let's wait. A kiss is the crown of business, with a kiss we will seal, like a seal, our union, and then she is mine. Forever and ever.
Do you also have literature now? She came close to me.
I nodded.
Horton College was housed in an old respectable Victorian building. Stairs, corridors, passages, galleries and niches. Dark niches.
Felicity pushed me into one such dark niche.
What is this, literature class? - I was joking.
The young lady smiled mysteriously, clung to me and kissed me on the lips. Just like that, quite simply: one look - and she is already all mine. There's just something wrong here! Where is the spark? Where is the fire? Where is the fire? Where are the violins, fanfares and confetti? A kiss is like a kiss, ordinary, banal, not fatal at all!
I heard someone's heavy steps, an indistinct rustle - and I opened my eyes. Our ridiculous classmate in her monster T-shirt caught us in a niche and dropped a notebook on the floor.
Sorry, she muttered.
Felicity woke up instantly and attacked her angrily.
Get out, City! - she barked, - are you spying, or what?
The nondescript straightened her back, tossed her head and flashed her eyes:
Why on earth! Why do I need it? To once again learn from you how to look like a fool?
You don't need to learn this, you're doing great! Felicity exclaimed furiously, and, frankly, I was ready to agree with her.
Back off, City. Lee is not for you. Not your scale.
Fortunately, the truth is not mine, but just right for you. Today you broke your own record: you kiss two minutes after meeting. Congratulations! She bent down and picked up a notebook from the floor and handed it to Felicity. - Hold on, this is yours, Miss Ale mixed us up - and the fat woman threw me a contemptuous look.
Don't worry, City, but Lee won't confuse us, - Felicity took her notebook.
I hope,” City said arrogantly, “I do without secondhand at all.
She's talking about me, right? I looked at the notebook. And I thought I was hit with a baseball bat. Felicity Stratton, I read on the cover.
Stratton? - I barely uttered, not recognizing my voice, - is your name Stratton?
Black-haired Felicity looked at me lovingly and nodded, mesmerized by the kiss. With this, be it wrong, a magical kiss!
Yes. While Stratton. But who knows, maybe soon I will have a new surname? Fitzmore, for example.
Behind her, she heard City exclaim, pretending to be sick. She leaned forward, her ugly t-shirt revealing a wow bust. Wait a second... City? City, City... That's not her real name.
I got stupid. I gathered all my will into a fist, I needed the truth.
So your name is City?
She looked at me with the same contempt with which I had looked at her until now.
Yes. But to my friends, I'm Felicity. Felicity Morgan, and she tossed her head.
This is what I missed! I made a cruel mistake: I fell in love with the wrong one, not predicted, not chosen! And the one chosen and destined for my wife now stood right in front of me and did not look like the woman of my dreams.
Elizabeth Rudnick
MALEFICENT
A TRUE LOVE STORY
Dedicated to Linda Woolverton
This is the story of the fairy Maleficent. The story you don't know. Mind you, this is not one of those tales that starts with a curse and ends with a fight with a dragon. No. This is the story of what really happened. While there is both a curse and a dragon in this story, there is so much more to it. Because this is a story about unrequited love, found friendship and the power of a single kiss...
SCOTTISH HIGHLANDS
The rays of the sunset sun seeped through the thick grass, gilding the green blades of grass. Clouds drifted slowly across the sky, like fluffy white sheep slowly wandering through the meadow under them. A shepherd sitting nearby near a stone wall and his four-year-old son watched their flock. At their feet were two collies, closing their eyes for a brief respite from their dog duties.
Today a little boy went out to pasture for the first time with his father. He had been waiting for this day for an eternity - while the older brothers were tending sheep farther and farther from home, he was always left alone. But today it's his turn. He ran all the way behind his father, trying not to scare away the sheep, which they drove to one of the most distant meadows. Imitating his father, the boy began to yell at the sheep to get them to move on.
From new impressions, running around and shouting, the boy had an appetite. Quickly swallowing his supper, he set to work with relish on a large piece of sweet pie, dropping the crumbs into his lap. Noticing that his father had put his piece on the ground, the boy asked in surprise:
Don't you want some sweet pie, dad?
I leave him here for the fairy folk,” the shepherd replied, his weather-beaten face serious.
Say no to sweet pie? The boy could not have imagined such a thing.
What for? - he asked.
The shepherd smiled.
To thank them for making the grass taller and thicker and helping the flowers bloom. To show that we are not going to harm them.
But such an answer was not enough for the inquisitive boy. He had many more questions.
And why do they do it? And what harm can we do to them? he asked in his thin, bewildered voice.
Before answering anything, the shepherd smoothed the ground in front of him with a worn shoe. The soles of his boots were brown from the meadow soil, and his toes were completely peeling off. Hard times have come - King Henry every year demanded more and more grain and sheep. Farmers now had to cling tightly to the ground and cherish their old boots, hoping for the best.
They are part of nature. They take care of plants, animals, even the air itself. - The shepherd picked up a handful of loose soil and slowly poured it around the treat. But not everyone appreciates them. Some attack their land, wanting to take advantage of all the natural wealth. Oh, how many senseless wars there were between them and people! And no matter how many times both of them have sought to make peace, we still seem to be constantly on the verge of a new war.
With these words, the shepherd sadly looked into the distance.
The boy didn't understand. His father spoke some utter nonsense. But when he himself says nonsense, his mother gives him a slap on the back of the head and sends him to the barn to clean the stalls!
Of course, the boy could not give a cuff to his own father, and therefore only asked:
Why are you digging the ground like that?
As a sign of respect, - calmly, as if about something taken for granted, the father answered. "To show the fairies that they can eat this cake without fear, and so that they don't think we're going to poison them." You know, if you make them angry, they can get very angry.
The shepherd got up, whistled to the dogs, and moved towards the house.
The boy behind him sat down at the gate of the sheep pen, his thoughts racing. He had never heard of evil fairies before. Frightened, he looked around. Not sure that these same people are not watching him evil fairies, he jumped down, screaming softly, and ran after his father. Only when he caught up with him and felt safe, the boy sighed with relief and began to look around - he really wanted to see at least one fairy.
As he descended the hillside, chasing the sheep towards the house, which looked like a small speck from here, the boy looked up at the sky, then back down at the ground.
Noticing something green on the flower, he stopped and called out to his father.
Tell me, is it a fairy? he asked hopefully.
No, the shepherd replied, shaking his head. - It's just a grasshopper.
And this? the boy asked, pointing to another flower.
The boy immediately touched his ears and rolled his eyes.
Dad, I think I'm one of them!
Barely restraining himself from bursting out with laughter, the shepherd stopped and turned to his son.
The boy calmed down and smiled. He, of course, really wanted to see the fairies, but he did not want to be one of them at all.
Raising his hand, the shepherd pointed his finger at the ground that surrounded their family pasture.
If you were a fairy, he said, you would live there. They live on these moorlands. It is because of them that all this fuss is made.
The boy looked in the direction his father was pointing and rolled his eyes. Until now, he had never seen moorland, they were too far from their farm. True, he heard stories from his brothers about sheep that had strayed from the herd and never returned from there. Even now, in the warm glow of the evening sun, the marshes were shrouded in mist that hid everything—and everyone within. Heather marshes stretched out in both directions, surrounded by tall, gnarled trees, their branches stretching up to the sky and obscuring the land beyond them. Tall reeds were visible at the base of the trunks in patches of sunlight, leaning forward as if curiously examining the land that belonged to people. The boy cringed.
Turning his attention back to the sheep, the shepherd continued down the hill. The boy, who remained behind him, lingered, his eyes fixed on the moorland. From here he could see the food laid out on the ground, the totems and talismans hung on the branches of the trees that surrounded the land of the fairies. Squinting his eyes, he tried to make out something in the haze that covered the wasteland, but failed to do so and, burning with curiosity, slowly headed towards the lowland drowned in fog.
In an instant, he was on the edge of the swamps. The fog had cleared a little, and now the boy could see the stones and small bushes that covered the ground. Kneeling down, he pulled a half-eaten piece of pie out of his pocket and placed it carefully on the stone. Impatiently grabbing a handful of earth, he poured it around. Then he took a step back and waited.
Nothing happened.
The boy moved the pie closer to the center of the stone.
Nothing again.
Disappointed in his expectations, the boy turned to leave. The sun was already setting, and it was time for him to return home with his father.
Suddenly, the boy heard a slight trembling sound behind him and stopped. Turning slowly, he opened his eyes wide as he noticed a pair of small, insect-like tendrils rising from the edge of the stone.
Perhaps everyone thinks Maleficent is a terrible villain. But she wasn't always like this.
Maleficent is an unusual fairy. After her parents died through the fault of people, little Maleficent was raised by magical people and she sincerely believed that there should be something good in every living being, even in people. The cheerful and energetic Maleficent was loved by everyone who knew her. And so it was until the young fairy was betrayed by a friend whom she completely trusted.
Enraged and overcome with a thirst for revenge, Maleficent was looking for her way in this world, which would fill her life with meaning. But while she learned to control her magical abilities, the enemies did not sit idly by. So who is really the embodiment of evil in this magical story?
On our site you can download the book "Maleficent. True Love Story" by Elizabeth Rudnik for free and without registration in epub, fb2, pdf, txt format, read the book online or buy the book in the online store.
Current page: 1 (total book has 9 pages)
Elizabeth Rudnick
MALEFICENT
A TRUE LOVE STORY
Dedicated to Linda Woolverton
This is the story of the fairy Maleficent. The story you don't know. Mind you, this is not one of those tales that starts with a curse and ends with a fight with a dragon. No. This is the story of what really happened. While there is both a curse and a dragon in this story, there is so much more to it. Because this is a story about unrequited love, found friendship and the power of a single kiss...
PROLOGUE
SCOTTISH HIGHLANDS
The rays of the sunset sun seeped through the thick grass, gilding the green blades of grass. Clouds drifted slowly across the sky, like fluffy white sheep slowly wandering through the meadow under them. A shepherd sitting nearby near a stone wall and his four-year-old son watched their flock. At their feet were two collies, eyes closed as they took a brief respite from their dog duties.
Today a little boy went out to pasture for the first time with his father. He had been waiting for this day for ages - while his older brothers were tending sheep farther and farther from home, he was always left alone. But today it's his turn. He ran all the way behind his father, trying not to scare away the sheep, which they drove to one of the most distant meadows. Imitating his father, the boy began to yell at the sheep to get them to move on.
From new impressions, running around and shouting, the boy had an appetite. Quickly swallowing his supper, he set to work with relish on a large piece of sweet pie, dropping the crumbs into his lap. Noticing that his father had put his piece on the ground, the boy asked in surprise:
"Don't you want sweet pie, dad?"
“I leave him here for the fairy folk,” the shepherd replied, his weather-beaten face serious.
Say no to sweet pie? The boy could not have imagined such a thing.
- Why? - he asked.
The shepherd smiled.
“To thank them for making the grass taller and thicker and helping the flowers bloom. To show that we are not going to harm them.
But such an answer was not enough for the inquisitive boy. He had many more questions.
– Why do they do it? And what harm can we do to them? he asked in his thin, bewildered voice.
Before answering anything, the shepherd smoothed the ground in front of him with a worn shoe. The soles of his boots were brown from the meadow soil, and his toes were completely peeling off. Times were hard - King Henry demanded more and more grain and sheep every year. Farmers now had to cling tightly to the ground and cherish their old boots, hoping for the best.
“They are part of nature. They take care of plants, animals, even the air itself. - The shepherd picked up a handful of loose soil and slowly poured it around the treat. But not everyone appreciates them. Some attack their land, wanting to take advantage of all the natural wealth. Oh, how many senseless wars there were between them and people! And no matter how many times both of them have sought to make peace, we still seem to be constantly on the verge of a new war.
With these words, the shepherd sadly looked into the distance.
The boy didn't understand. His father spoke some utter nonsense. But when he himself says nonsense, his mother gives him a slap on the back of the head and sends him to the barn to clean the stalls!
Of course, the boy could not give a cuff to his own father, and therefore only asked:
“Why did you pour the earth like that?”
“As a token of respect,” my father answered calmly, as if about something taken for granted. “To show the fairies that they can safely eat this pie, and that they don't think we're going to poison them. You know, if you make them angry, they can get very angry.
The shepherd got up, whistled to the dogs, and moved towards the house.
The boy behind him sat down at the gate of the sheep pen, his thoughts racing. He had never heard of evil fairies before. Frightened, he looked around. Not sure that these same people are not watching him evil fairies, he jumped down, screaming softly, and ran after his father. Only when he caught up with him and felt safe, the boy sighed with relief and began to look around - he terribly wanted to see at least one fairy.
As he descended the hillside, chasing the sheep towards the house, which looked like a small speck from here, the boy looked up at the sky, then back down at the ground.
Noticing something green on the flower, he stopped and called out to his father.
- Tell me, is it a fairy? he asked hopefully.
“No,” the shepherd replied, shaking his head. - It's just a grasshopper.
– And this? the boy asked, pointing to another flower.
The boy immediately touched his ears and rolled his eyes.
- Dad, I think I'm one of them!
Barely restraining himself from bursting out with laughter, the shepherd stopped and turned to his son.
The boy calmed down and smiled. He, of course, really wanted to see the fairies, but he did not want to be one of them at all.
Raising his hand, the shepherd pointed his finger at the ground that surrounded their family pasture.
“If you were a fairy,” he said, “you would live there. They live on these moorlands. It is because of them that all this fuss is made.
The boy looked in the direction his father was pointing and rolled his eyes. Until now, he had never seen moorland, they were too far from their farm. True, he heard stories from his brothers about sheep that had strayed from the herd and never returned from there. Even now, in the warm glow of the evening sun, the marshes were shrouded in a mist that hid everything—and everyone within. Heather marshes stretched out in both directions, surrounded by tall, gnarled trees, their branches stretching up to the sky and obscuring the land beyond them. Tall reeds were visible at the base of the trunks in patches of sunlight, leaning forward as if curiously examining the land that belonged to people. The boy cringed.
Turning his attention back to the sheep, the shepherd continued down the hill. The boy, who remained behind him, lingered, his eyes fixed on the moorland. From here he could see the food laid out on the ground, the totems and talismans hung on the branches of the trees that surrounded the land of the fairies. Squinting his eyes, he tried to make out something in the haze that covered the wasteland, but failed to do so and, burning with curiosity, slowly headed towards the lowland drowned in fog.
In an instant, he was on the edge of the swamps. The fog had cleared a little, and now the boy could see the stones and small bushes that covered the ground. Kneeling down, he pulled a half-eaten piece of pie out of his pocket and placed it carefully on the stone. Impatiently grabbing a handful of earth, he poured it around. Then he took a step back and waited.
Nothing happened.
The boy moved the pie closer to the center of the stone.
Nothing again.
Disappointed in his expectations, the boy turned to leave. The sun was already setting, and it was time for him to return home with his father.
Suddenly, the boy heard a slight trembling sound behind him and stopped. Turning slowly, he opened his eyes wide as he noticed a pair of small, insect-like tendrils rising from the edge of the stone.
The boy hurriedly hid behind a nearby rock, gasping for air and hearing his heart pounding. The tendrils moved, as if sniffing. Another second and a pair of tiny blue wings appeared, and then a bright blue fairy climbed onto the stone. Her skin shimmered like a drop of dew, transparent wings fluttered behind her back. Never before had the boy seen such a beautiful, charming creature.
Unaware that she was being watched, the tiny fairy approached the sweet cake.
Sitting behind a boulder, the boy suddenly felt his nose tickle. He rubbed it, trying to prevent the inevitable, but, alas, to no avail. And he sneezed.
Turning sharply, the fairy met the eyes of the boy. For a moment they both froze, looking at each other in awe. But suddenly there was a loud barking - it was one of the collies who remembered her duties.
And before the boy could say a word, the fairy flew away, leaving the cake untouched.
The boy sighed, rose to his feet, and walked away from the wasteland. His head was ready to burst from the thoughts and questions that overwhelmed her. Who is this fairy? Is she young or old? Good or evil? Are there many fairies like her? And most importantly, where did she go?
CHAPTER FIRST
A fairy resembling a blue dewdrop flew headlong away from the boy and his terrible shaggy monster. As she flew farther and farther into the depths of the heather-covered swamps, the sun leaned lower and lower towards the horizon, painting everything around with its rays in bright pinks, purples and blues. The sky darkened and the sounds of nature grew louder. Owls hooted, crows croaked, and beetles flew from flower to flower. Behind the fairies, the trees that guarded the border of the world in which the fairy people lived, went into the distance, but new ones, even older and larger, already appeared ahead. The trunks of these trees varied in color, from dark brown to light gray, and rose high into the sky, and their crowns, like a roof, covered the heather swamps that stretched below them. Birds called to each other in the crowns, and squirrels jumped from branch to branch, not at all afraid of heights.
The fairy continued to rush forward. She passed a large pond in which some of the Fairy Folk were splashing, glittering splashes flying high into the air. Turning to the side, the dewdrop fairy flew over the hill and went further along a small hollow. Then she turned to the right, towards a large split-in-two tree, and found herself over a meadow full of bright red flowers that stretched nearly ten tree trunks in length. Beyond the meadow was another pond, rather gloomy compared to the first. On one side of it was a dark cave that served as a home for a majon family. The fairy turned away so as not to meet the eyes of the majons. These little creatures with large ears and perpetually wrinkled foreheads - it seemed that something was bothering them all the time - were cute, but too carelessly, according to the fairy, they ran their household. The dewdrop fairy flapped its wings faster and faster.
At last she found herself in a beautiful grove. It was Fairy Hill. Located in the heart of the swamps, the Hill was a special place for everyone who lived here. Fairy Hill literally throbbed from the magical energy that overwhelmed him, which he received from the creatures and plants that lived on it. Rounded in shape, the Hill consisted of large peat bogs and several small streams, and its central part was occupied by a huge tree towering over everything. Sitting on a small pebble on the edge of the swamp, the dewdrop fairy looked around and smiled, glad that she had returned home and again saw familiar faces around her.
The Wallerbog grumbled as it plunged its clumsy body into the muddy water to join its brethren. All Wallerbogs have drooping long ears with sharp tips and thick antennae with pink fringe at the edges of the head. The Wallerbogs sit in a row and drop their saliva into the swamp, forming such an important silt for the life of the swamp.
Farther from the edge of the marsh, purple, fish-like creatures with huge eyes and large mouths bustled about. They filtered dirty water through their net-like fins, and the water became clean and fresh again. Not far away was a group of misty masons - gray hairless mystical creatures, very similar to the stones they worked on, arranging them so as to clear the way for the flow clean water. Everywhere you look, the creatures that lived in the grove worked together, helping nature to maintain balance and harmony.
And in the very center of the Hill stood the Rowan tree. Thick long branches stretched upwards from a huge, stately trunk, and at its foot a labyrinth of twisting, moss-covered roots sprawled. The branches were dotted with shiny leaves - when the moonlight fell on them at a certain angle, the leaves lit up with a green light, illuminating the entire grove. Near the mighty trunk sat a beautiful, human-sized fairy and rocked a child on her arm. Black, raven-colored, the fairy's hair shone in the moonlight, and with her wide wings she covered herself and her child like a blanket. Singing a lullaby, the fairy raised her free hand up, and night flowers suddenly opened on the branches hanging over her head. Then she made the leaves and flowers dance, swaying in time with her song, and the little daughter of the fairy fell silent, falling asleep.
“Hermia,” came a gentle voice from behind her mother, and immediately a tall, handsome man appeared next to her. It was her husband, Lysander. He, too, was from the fairy people. His green eyes shone brightly, like stars in the night sky above them.
“Shh,” Hermia warned her husband tenderly. - She is sleeping.
"Ah, that's where she is." Lysander smiled, enjoying the sight of his little sleeping beauty. Then he leaned down to kiss his daughter on the forehead and hugged his wife.
- How did everything go? asked Hermia as her husband sat down beside her, leaning back against the trunk of the Rowan tree.
Lysander sighed and replied, furrowing his brows.
- No way. The people didn't show up. I waited for them at the border until sunset, and then returned back.
Hermia was upset. Another day wasted in their efforts to keep the peace. Although the faerie folk did not believe in humans for the most part, remembering their endless attacks, Lysander and Hermia believed that it was impossible to judge everyone by the actions of just a few. They believed that peace between the two peoples was possible. Over the years, they have tried to make friends with local farmers and shepherds. These were people who really valued nature. In fact, the seeds from which the rowan tree that became their home grew were a gift from a farming family, who decided in this way to thank the fairies for helping them save their crops during a drought. With the help of several magic spells, these seeds were turned into a luxurious dwelling, a masterpiece of nature, which was deeply revered by all the surrounding inhabitants without exception.
However, the established fragile agreement between the magical people and people was about to break like a twig. Sentinels, like five-meter-high trees, guarding the border, warned that armed people were gathering at the edge of the swamp, and this news greatly alarmed all the inhabitants of the Hill. They considered this a sure sign that people were again ready to invade their possessions in order to drain the swamps and adapt the swamps to their needs. Will break out new war. Hoping to end the endless era of violence and cruelty, Lysander decided to travel to the frontier to begin peace negotiations.
What does Balthazar think of this? Hermia asked, referring to one of the treelike border guards.
- He is very concerned. During the week, people came to the big waterfall at the same time. It is very strange that they suddenly stopped their visits.
Hermia didn't answer.
They were silent, knowing perfectly well what each of them was thinking now. It was naively hoped that people simply wanted to explore the swamps or, if they had really bad intentions, they could be persuaded to abandon them. It is terrible that they missed the opportunity to change the course of history and make the world safer in which their daughter will grow up. The tension in the air grew with every minute.
“Tomorrow,” said Lysander, breaking a long silence. - I'll be back there tomorrow.
A light breeze rustled through the branches. Hermia rested her head on Lysander's shoulder, and he pressed his cheek against hers. So, despite the heaviness that pressed their hearts, they, following their daughter, quietly fell asleep under the rustle of the leaves of the rowan tree.
First they heard the chirping of birds. Then screams.
- War! The war has begun! shouted the Misty Mason.
People attacked! the waterman yelled piercingly.
Hermia and Lysander jumped up, instinctively spreading their wings. The night was not yet over, the sky was black and starless. Fairies and animals scurried around on the leaf-strewn ground, along the seething channels and in the air. Hermia looked down at the precious bundle in her hands. Surprisingly, even this noise did not wake up Maleficent.
Three disheveled pixies hurried past them.
- What happened? Hermia asked, blocking their way.
- People are here! On the border! A whole army of people! shouted one of the pixies, Notgrass, hysterically.
- With weapon! said the pixie in blue named Flittle.
“Perhaps there is still time,” Lysander replied to his wife's silent question. If we can negotiate with them...
"Yes," Hermia agreed hastily. We need to get to the border as soon as possible.
She hugged her sleeping daughter tighter, and they flew down to the lush green lawn that stretched right under the Rowan tree. Looking around the moss-covered shore of the swamp, they began to call their friends:
- Adella! Finch! Sweet pea!
– Robin! Hermia exclaimed as she saw a brisk little elf hurrying towards them. Robin has been a family friend for many years. Childishly direct and restless, he always poured jokes, ready to join the game, was a ray of light, so necessary in dark times, too often, alas, advancing on the moorlands. But now his expression was grim. Robin has never been seen so serious.
"Here's where your three are!" And we've already searched you,” said Robin, approaching them. “That hole over there is a good hiding place for those who cannot fight. Let's go there, please.
And he was moving in the direction from which he had flown.
"No," Hermia stopped him. “Look, we want you to take Maleficent to the hideout with you, but we're not going there ourselves.
“We are going to the people,” Lysander explained.
Robin looked at them carefully and nodded. He knew about their longstanding efforts to bring peace and how important it was to them. Arguing with them would be a waste of time.
"Good," said Robin. “But come with me to the hideout. I don't think I can hold Maleficent on my own.
The fairies silently flew shoulder to shoulder through the noise and chaos around them. They spoke only after the parents kissed Maleficent, carefully placing her inside a cozy hole, where the girl was immediately surrounded by caring multi-colored creatures.
“Thank you,” Lysander said goodbye to Robin. We will try to get back as soon as possible.
Then Lysander and Hermia fluttered up into the black night sky and headed towards the loud screams and flashes of lights coming from the direction of the border. Soon they became like small birds flying swiftly across the sky.
When his friends were out of sight, Robin turned to look at the sleeping child. Maleficent's lips parted, her tummy heaving with her sleepy breathing. She didn't know that her parents had just flown off into danger to try again save the wasteland.
"Sleep, my love," whispered Robin. - We'll take care of you.
CHAPTER TWO
The night seemed endless, like all nights filled with unexpected experiences. The fairies hiding in the hideout didn't think they would be able to sleep because of the terrible sounds coming from outside. Nor did they hope that the sun would ever rise again and the next morning come. But sleep nevertheless overcame them, and the sun rose, marking the beginning of a new dawn ... and a new era. As the sun rose, the birds began to sing, and all the swamps began to move feverishly.
- The war is over! the misty hedgehogs shouted nearby.
- The war is over! - Dewdrop fairies flying across the sky echoed them.
At the first cries, Robin woke up and looked around. He was alone in the dark hole. If it happened on any other day, he would have laughed merrily, thinking that someone decided to play hide and seek with him. But now he panicked.
- Maleficent! Dressed up possums, where is she... where is everyone... Maleficent!
"It's all right," came the bell-like voice of his friend Sweet Pea.
Robin turned to the right and saw baby Maleficent lying in a large nest on the bank of a shallow stream. Four bustling river fairies—Chrisit, Lockstone, Vala, and Pipsy—were washing the girl's soft dark hair, carefully pouring clear, sparkling water over her head. Maleficent tossed and turned in her nest, holding out her arms to them, while Sweet Pea and Finch decorated the bed with flowers and leaves.
“The news has been coming all morning,” Sweet Pea announced. - The battle is over. Topi is safe again.
“We are preparing Maleficent to meet Hermia and Lysander when they return. I'm sure they'll be here any minute,” Finch added, leaning back to admire her handiwork. Then she leaned forward again to straighten the leaf, which she thought was out of place.
Robin smiled, then laughed out loud.
“Coughing Wallerbogs!” They did it! He flew up to Maleficent and tickled her cheeks. The little girl giggled and clapped her hands in pleasure.
A few hours after the fruit fairy Adella fed Maleficent berries, and Robin played with her fifty times "coo-coo, who's here?", Maleficent began to quietly cry. Robin thought that perhaps the girl caught the growing sense of anxiety in adults and guessed herself that something was wrong. Robin's fears were confirmed when he saw a giant guard walking slowly towards them.
Huge guard trees rarely appeared in this part of the swamp - one might say, never. They felt much more comfortable on the edge of the swamps and took their duties very seriously - to guard the border. In order for the guard to come here, something extremely important had to happen, especially considering that the battle had just ended. The sentry was approaching, dragging its huge shadow along the ground, footsteps sounded heavily, and at this sound from all the surrounding places began to gather magical people.
– What brings you here, Berchalin? Robin asked the sentry as he came close to them. – How soon can we expect the return of Lysander and Hermia?
The sentry sighed and answered, shifting from root to root:
I'm afraid I bring bad news. I myself volunteered to report them, but now it is difficult for me to speak.
Some of the fairies flew up and surrounded the sentinel tree to hear him better. They were eager to hear the news, and at the same time they were afraid in advance of what they might hear.
“I thought we won the war,” Finch whispered.
“We really managed to protect our house this time as well,” Berchalin began softly. “But I'm afraid we won at a high price. Lysander and Hermia were killed last night.
The assembled fairies gasped, and Maleficent began to cry loudly in her nest on the ground. The others looked at her in shock, filled with pity for the little orphan.
Robin was the first to come out of his daze. He sank to the ground next to Maleficent, touching his small hand to her shoulder. One by one, other magical creatures joined them. Sweet Pea and Finch stood at the baby's feet, the river fairies at her head, the wallerbogs climbed out of their lake and perched on the sides of the nest.
Then they lifted Maleficent into the air and carried her through the forest, while Berchalin and the others followed in a sad crowd. In the end they all gathered at the place where everyone knew they were supposed to go, although no one said its name aloud. Rowan tree. Maleficent was carefully lowered into the fork of the mighty tree trunks. The sun's rays, breaking through the foliage, surrounded the girl's head with a bright halo. As soon as Maleficent was in the tree, she stopped crying.
The fairy people stood around, covering the little fairy with themselves. Robin spoke first. He repeated what he had already said just hours before:
- We'll take care of you.
“Oh, you have wings like your mother,” Sweet Pea might have said during her morning walk through the air, as Maleficent awkwardly tried to hobble beside her, tangled in her big unruly wings. But when she heard that her huge black wings looked like her mother's, Maleficent immediately blushed with pride.
“Your dad had the same sparkling eyes,” Finch might have noticed as they walked through the woods. And Maleficent hurried to look at her reflection in the mirror of the pond, peering into her really bright eyes. But most of all, Maleficent loved spending time in the company of her best friend, Robin. Sometimes they played games that they themselves invented: guessing the animals they were depicting, or competing to see who would make the most wonderful face today. Robin often taught Maleficent how to play pranks on other magical creatures. They could laugh until they dropped, looking at the bewildered face of the misty-mason, who found his stones rearranged by our pranksters to another place. Or to have fun listening to pixies quarreling with each other, not knowing that the collected berries were eaten by Robin and Maleficent, and not one of them.
And they also liked to just sit in the Rowan tree. Robin knew Maleficent's parents better than anyone and constantly told her about them. They were different stories - sometimes silly, sometimes tender, but they always brought a smile to Maleficent's face.
“And then I’ll jump out of the swamp, how I’ll scare the live fireflies off Lysander, can you imagine? Robin laughed loudly, remembering the past, and Maleficent echoed him.
- Oh, Robin, well, you give! And this is at the very moment when he was trying to impress my mom! she laughed.
- He still managed to impress her when he jumped up about four meters, like a frightened oaf.
Laughing, Maleficent asked a question that Robin was very afraid of.
“Robin… did you see the man up close?”
“No, girl,” he answered, frowning, “I didn’t see it. And I don't want to, to be honest. These people are nothing but trouble.
Maleficent straightened up and continued to ask even more insistently:
“But you said that my parents believed that there were good people, too. And that someday we will be able to establish good relations with them.
“He did,” Robin agreed. “But you know what that faith of theirs cost them,” he spoke softly, but firmly. Sometimes he forgot how young and naive Maleficent was. “People are trying to steal our treasures, rob our land. And everyone has weapons made of iron - yes, from the substance that burns our tribe.
“But, Robin, after all, people are also part of nature,” Maleficent did not let up. It seemed like she thought about it all a lot. “I know there are terrible people. Monsters. However, there are evil fairies, and animals too, but there are still more good ones. So people can not be bad all without exception.
Robin was silent for a moment. He couldn't give Maleficent the answer she wanted. After that terrible night, he hated all the people for what they then took away from him.
"No, my love," he finally said, patting Maleficent's hand. All people are evil.
And with these words, he rose into the air and flew away from the Rowan tree, unable to continue the conversation.
Maleficent sighed and leaned back against the trunk again. Maybe Robin didn't believe in good people but she believed. She also knew that her parents would be proud of her for it.