King Rupert wasn’t one to simply listen while thinking of something else at the back of his mind; no, when you had his attention, he gave every part of him to you. His eyes, his hands folded under his chin, and his whole self seemed immersed in her words. He didn’t interrupt her, not once, as she ran through the history and politics of the last hundred years. Aurora watched him when she delivered the news that his wife had been lost but he didn’t betray any emotion. Not even a twitch.

Aurora wasn’t used to being so closely scrutinized. People didn’t care about what she said enough to look at her like that while she talked. She found it… unnerving. Yes, that was the right term.

His attention, already keen, seemed to double, triple, when she explained her own course of action in her efforts to revive him.

Finally, she was done. Rupert remained still, his fingers brushing over his lips.

“So, you’d proven the procedure was quite safe and yet, they dismissed you, still.”

She winced. Saying it like that was nothing short of accusing the Council, her father amongst them, of treason. Of not wanting their rightful king back. But that was quite exactly what they’d done.

She tried to be fair. “They made a sound point, made more obvious by the fact that, in my arrogance, I could very well have killed you today.”

It had been a close call. Everything had worked as planned, until he’d been revived, then his body had seemed to give in, as if…

Spelled.

“You didn’t,” he reminded her, not unkindly. “What of my daughter?”

Aurora smiled. “She’s still frozen. I wish to run through additional tests, now, before we even think of attempting to…”

“No.” He hadn’t raised his voice, yet, although she’d lived her entire life around politicians and nobles, she’d never heard anyone who sounded quite so firm and dominant. He said no, so, Aurora wouldn’t. No questions asked. She didn’t recognize herself, as she generally balked at any attempt to control her.

Thankfully, Rupert was no tyrant; he explained himself.

“No tests. No science. You know as much as you need to know of your process, I’m sure.”

The vote of confidence made her blush like an ingénue.

“Perhaps, but if the same thing happens with Little Aurora,” she’d taken to calling the princess that, as they bore the same name.

“The same thing will occur,” the King stated simply. “You’ve managed to thwart fate this once but it may not work with Aurora. We’ll need help. Pray tell, is there news of Maleficent?”

Aurora’s eyes bulged.

Maleficent. The creature that dwelled in the nearing forest, beyond walls of thorns. They said so many dreadful things of her, Aurora shivered every time her lands came into view. And the King was asking about her?

“Maleficent,” she repeated.

“My late wife, myself, and Aurora slept under the same spell. I’ll have the aid of the one who cast it to ensure it may be lifted safely.”

Spells. So, she’d been right. She frowned, confused, wondering what she could have done to bypass the Fay’s magic.

“But how did I awaken you, in that case?”

The King smiled, then. A slow smile that started at the corner of his mouth and ended with his eyes.

“A gentleman never tells, Aurora.”

* * *

Having a Fay for his closest friend had made him quite the scholar when it came to all manner of magic things. With a keen understanding of elemental spells, plenty of powers, and the help of potions readily available, Aurora may have saved him, with luck. None of that had been at her disposal, however. Nothing but herself, her wits, and her pretty lips.

She loved him, and she’d kissed him; it was just that simple. His experience had made him so wary of women, he might not have believed it, but his breathing was absolute and irrefutable proof.

Maleficent had had enough of Marina. They all had. She, who didn’t have anyone to answer to, moved to bespell her, underestimating the Queen’s wickedness. Marina was quite dumb, but she hadn’t provoked one of the most powerful Fays alive without a contingency plan.

Marina had worn an artifact meant to deflect any spell cast on her; a trinket created by an amateur, or at least, someone who’d never rival Mal in affairs of magic.

Her spell didn’t spare Marina but it nonetheless spread to those around her. Namely, Rupert and Aurora, who’d been in his arms at the time.

“What have I done,” Mal cried.

She tried to undo her spell. Tried and tried again. Yet it remained, hanging over their heads.

She’d played with words. Next time you get a prick to satisfy your selfish desires, you’ll die, said she.

Marina valued her life enough to stop seeing her lovers, but still, they fell. Rupert wasn’t sure how.

By that time, Mal had altered the spell; they weren’t going to die, she said, just sleep until came a time when they could be safely reawakened. “I’ll not rest until I know how to beat my curse; that I promise you.” And she assured him that she’d take necessary steps so that their bodies wouldn’t fall to the trials of time.

So, she’d frozen them.

The curse had still been upon them - he should have fallen right back into his endless slumber, and yet, here he was. Rupert would ask Mal, of course, but there was little doubt in his mind that the scientist had used Love’s First Kiss.

There were different sorts of love: the kind one felt for a parent or a child, for a sovereign, or a man. Aurora loved the idea of her King and that had been enough. He couldn’t count on the same trick functioning on his daughter, though. His own kiss wouldn’t do either; he’d dropped his lips on her forehead, or her cheeks, plenty of times. The only kiss with real power was the very first.

Still, now that he was conscious, he wouldn’t rest until his daughter breathed. For she was his, despite the fact that his blood didn’t run in her veins.

They had other problems in the meantime.

“You’ve served me well, Rory,” said he, because it wouldn’t do to use his child’s name on a woman who looked like this. “But brace yourself. The Council will come for you.” There would be no forgiving her betrayal. “They’ll come for us both.”