#so yeah starchild is obviously maleficent

[mxliv-oftheendless]

Green Wounds, Ch. 1

Well, here it is: THE MALEFICENT AU! I am SUPER excited to be writing this story, guys! It’s gonna (hopefully) be freakin’ awesome! (Btw I’m using this picture to give a general look of what Starchild looks like when he’s older, even though it doesn’t make sense for this chapter. Also because that cape is bitchin and comes up later) Hope you guys enjoy!

“A man that studieth revenge keeps his own wounds green.” —Sir Francis Bacon

Let us tell an old story anew, and we will see how well you know it.

Once upon a time, there were two kingdoms, that were the worst of neighbors. So vast was the discord between them, that it was said only a great hero or a terrible villain might bring them together. In one kingdom, Jendell, lived folk like you and me, with a vain and greedy king to rule over them. They were forever discontent, and envious of the wealth and beauty of their neighbors. For in the other kingdom, the Moors, lived every manner of strange and wonderful creature. And they needed neither king nor queen, but trusted in one another.

In a great tree on a great cliff in the Moors, lived one such spirit. You might take him for a boy, but he was not just any boy. He was a faerie. 

In his tree, lying on his back, a young faerie boy had his hands raised up in the air. All of the boy’s skin was pale, but his face was pure white, except for the red of his lips and a single black star over his right eye. His long, curly black hair was splayed out along with a set of black wings. Although the boy was young, his wings were already magnificent to look at, all black and made up of glossy black feathers. They were at the moment spread out lazily around him. The faerie boy wore clothes of different shades of purple, but no shoes.

The boy’s fingers twitched and waved, and wisps of light purple magic flitted around them, drifting upward and pushing two dolls made of leaves and branches up further into the air. The faerie boy smiled as he watched the dolls spin around in the air, arms attached together so they looked like they were dancing.

The sudden sound of a breaking branch made the boy stop and look up. Up above him, he saw that one of the smaller branches was bent out of shape, perhaps broken from the weight of the many leaves. He quickly abandoned the dolls and got up, his wings stretching out to help him balance himself. He crawled up a larger limb of his tree until he was standing in front of the broken branch. The boy closed his hands over the break and closed his eyes, concentrating. Light purple wisps of magic curled out from between his hands, and the bent branch slowly straightened out again. The boy opened his eyes and took his hands away; the break was gone. The boy smiled. “There you go,” he said to the branch.

He turned from the healed branch and took a couple steps, before looking out at the beautiful kingdom he called his home.

And his name was Starchild. 

Smiling brightly, Starchild leaned forward and jumped off the branch. As he fell, his wings unfurled out behind him, lifting him up into the air. Starchild flew through the Moors, feeling the breeze on his face.

It is said that Starchild received his name from what happened at his birth. It was said that the stars in the sky all shined down upon the baby faerie, blessing him with the star over his eye.

“Good morning, Bill!” Starchild called to a wood creature as he flew past. “I love your cap!”

Bill smiled and tipped the said cap at the faerie as he flew on.

Although Starchild had no parents, he found he didn’t need them to live a happy life. His heart was still bright as the sun, unable to give nothing but kindness and love.

Starchild came to a shallow pool, where three fat creatures were throwing mud at each other. As he neared, a blue one held up a handful of mud at him.

“No,” Starchild shook his finger at him threateningly, but still smiling slightly. “No, don’t you dare!”

Grinning, the blue creature threw the mud at him. Starchild ducked, and the mud flew over his head and splattered all over the face of a goblin. The goblin turned and started yelling at the fat blue creature.

Starchild laughed as he flew away. “Hah! You missed me!” he crowed.

He flew on, bidding good morning to the various creatures he saw. At one point he did a large loop-the-loop, shouting “Woo-hoo!” in joy. Laughing, he flew through a waterfall, the spray dampening his hair and clothes, but sliding right off his wings.

Starchild’s home was one of peace and joy, and even as a child he knew he wanted to see it stay that way. For he loved the Moors above all else.

Sudden twittering voices made Starchild look down at an island in the middle of the lake, where he saw a small crowd of creatures gathered. Floating in the air were three tiny fairies, wearing clothes that were pink, green, and blue; they were respectively Vinnie, Erik, and Tommy. The troubled looks on all the creatures’ faces was enough to make Starchild swoop down and land in front of the fairies. “What’s going on?” he asked Vinnie.

“The border guards discovered—” Vinnie began, but Tommy interrupted.

“Why do you get to tell him? I want to tell him!”

“I want to!” Erik piped up, but went unnoticed.

“There are rules, Tommy,” Vinnie said to him. “I tell this time, you tell next time. The border guards—”

“No,” Tommy interrupted again. “You told last time, so I get to tell this time, and Eric tells next time.”

“Tell me what?” Starchild interrupted. They were all sweet fairies, but they sometimes squabbled over the most ridiculous of things.

Vinnie rolled his eyes at Tommy. “Ugh, fine!”

Tommy smiled and nodded. “Thank you.” He turned to Starchild eagerly. “Starchild, the border guards—”

“The border guards found a human thief at the Pool of Jewels!” Erik interrupted excitedly. There was a pause in which Vinnie and Tommy glared at him, and he realized what had happened. “Uh, oops. Sorry.”

Starchild’s eyes widened at his words. Without a word, his wings unfurled and he took off, the ensuing gust of wind sending the fairies flying in all directions.

Erik righted himself and looked after Starchild in annoyance. “He’s always in a hurry with his big wings. Stupid big wings…”

Vinnie worriedly watched Starchild fly away. “Humans here… I hope there’s not another war.”

-*-

When Starchild arrived at the Pool of Jewels, he saw two of the giant tree guards that guarded the borders of the Moors standing in the water, pointing their spears at the forest beyond the pool. Starchild landed on the rock between them and looked out into the forest. The tree guard on his left, Gene, turned to him and spoke in the language of the tree creatures.

“I’m not afraid,” Starchild replied confidently. “Besides,” he turned back to the woods, “I’ve never seen a human up close.” He looked out into the woods, and spotted a cowering figure in the shadows. “Come out of there!” he called.

There was a moment’s pause, then a young male voice called back. “No! They’re gonna kill me! Besides, they’re hideous to look at!”

Gene growled. Starchild’s mouth dropped open in shock. “That’s extremely rude!” he said indignantly. He turned to Gene and smiled. “Don’t listen to him, Gene. You’re classically handsome.”

Gene nodded and grunted a thank-you. Starchild turned back to the woods. “It’s not right to steal, but we don’t kill people for it. Now come out.” He made his voice sound more authoritative. “Come out right now!”

It surprisingly worked. There was the sound of footsteps, then a small human came into the light. He had long, straight black hair and a rather thin face. He was dressed in shabby clothing, and as he stared at Starchild his eyes went from Starchild’s face to his wings, looking rather intimidated.

Starchild tilted his head at him. “Are you fully grown?” he asked.

“Er, n-no,” the small human replied.

Starchild turned to Gene. “I think he’s just a boy,”

“You are, too,” the boy replied, cautiously stepping closer. “I think.”

“Who are you?” Starchild asked him, trying to make it sound like more of a demand.

“I’m called Ace. Who’re you?”

“I’m Starchild,”

Gene spoke to him, reminding him about the jewel the boy—Ace—had stolen. Starchild nodded. “Yes, right.” He turned back to Ace. “You have to give it back.”

“Give what back?”

Starchild gave him a withering look and held out his hand. After a pause, Ace sighed and went for a pouch hanging around his neck. He opened the pouch and took out the jewel he had stolen, and tossed it to Starchild. Starchild caught it, admired it for a moment, then turned and threw it back into the pool.

“All right. Now come on.” He flew over to where Ace was standing and turned to enter the forest. Behind him, Gene grunted, asking where he was going. Starchild turned back to him briefly. “I’ll be right back, I promise.” He turned to Ace. “Let’s go.”

“Where are you going?” Ace asked him.

“I’m taking you out of the Moors. Humans don’t belong here.”

As they walked through the forest, Starchild leading with Ace behind him, Ace spoke up again as they reached the edge of the Moors. “If I knew you were just gonna throw it away, I would’ve kept it.”

“I didn’t throw it away,” replied Starchild matter-of-factly. “I delivered it home. As I’m going to do for you.”

When they reached the standing stones marking the edge of the Moors, Ace looked out at the human kingdom that was many, many leagues away. On the horizon, Starchild could see a large structure with multiple jagged points to it. “Someday, y’know, I’ll live there,” Ace said, pointing to the structure. “In the castle.”

Ah, so that’s what it was. “Where do you live now?” Starchild asked curiously.

At that, Ace’s head lowered slightly, and he looked rather sad. “In a barn,” he replied.

“So your parents are farmers?” He was about to ask what that was like when Ace shook his head.

“No… my parents are dead.”

Ace looked back out at the castle, while Starchild felt sympathy rise in him. After a moment, he said, “Mine too,”

Ace turned from the castle to him. For a moment, the two boys stared at each other. Then Ace said, “We’ll see each other again,”

He began to walk off. Starchild couldn’t help but stop him once again.

“You really shouldn’t come back here, you know. It’s not safe for a human to be here.”

Ace paused, then turned around, looking at him inquisitively. “What if I did come back? Would you be here?”

The question caught Starchild off guard for a moment. After a moment he answered, smiling slightly, “Maybe…”

Ace formally extended his hand for Starchild to shake. Starchild stared down at it, then reached out to grab it, completely forgetting about the iron ring around Ace’s finger.

The sudden burning pain made Starchild wrench his hand back. “Ah!”

“What’s wrong?” Ace asked in concern.

Starchild hissed in pain and held his hand, running his thumb over his palm as the pink skin slowly healed itself. “Your ring,” he said to Ace. “Iron burns faeries.”

Ace looked down at his ring. “Oh… I’m sorry.” Starchild assumed he would offer his other hand, but instead Ace took the ring off his finger, turned, and threw it as hard as he could. It flew into the air and out of sight. Smiling, Ace turned back and offered his hand again. Starchild looked at him for a moment, then reached out and took it. They shook hands, then Ace turned around to leave. “I like your wings,” he said.

Starchild smiled and preened slightly at the compliment. “Thanks,”

“See you around, Starshine,” Ace said as he walked away.

Starchild frowned. “That’s not my name!” he called after him.

“Starshine sounds better!”

After watching Ace walk away, Starchild smiled and turned to re-enter the Moors. He thought about the young human boy he’d met for the rest of the day. And that night, he stared up at the canopy of his tree and smiled as remembered how Ace had thrown away his ring without a second thought.

Starchild thought about how Ace had cast away his ring, he who had so little in the world, so that their hands might touch again, and his heart was moved. Thus, did the young thief, who had hoped to steal a jewel, steal something far more precious.

-*-

For the next few weeks, Starchild went to the edge of the Moors, waiting for a while each day to see if Ace would come back. Sadly, he saw nothing of the young human boy. Then one day as he flew to his usual spot, he finally heard a voice.

“Starchild! Starchild!”

Starchild peered through the trees, and grinned happily. There was Ace, standing between the standing stones and looking into the Moors, trying to catch sight of him. Starchild decided to surprise him, and flew quietly over his head and landed behind him. Ace jumped and whirled around, making him smile wider.

“Well, well… after all these weeks, look who came back,” he said.

Ace gave him a lopsided smile. “I thought it worth the risk. So… what do you do for fun?”

They ended up flying over a river, with Ace holding onto Starchild’s foot as he flapped his wings so that Ace’s feet were submerged in the water. Ace was shouting, while Starchild laughed even as he flew awkwardly due to the extra weight. Eventually, Ace’s fingers slipped and he fell into the water, his clothes and hair getting drenched. Starchild flew above him, laughing musically as Ace picked himself up, spluttering.

Ace looked up at him, mock-glaring. “Hey, that wasn’t funny!”

“Yes it was,” Starchild giggled. Ace scooped up a handful of mud from the river and threw it at him. It splattered all over the front of Starchild’s purple tunic. “Hey!” Starchild looked down at it in shock.

Ace laughed. “Now that was funny!”

Starchild narrowed his eyes at him, then swooped down to the river. He grabbed his own handful of mud and threw it at Ace. Soon both boys were incredibly muddy and still tossing more mud at each other, shouting and laughing.

Ace and Starchild became the most unlikely of friends. And for a time it seemed, in them at least, the old hatred between the men and faeries had been forgotten.

“Why don’t you ever leave the Moors?” Ace asked him one day. They were lying on their backs in a clearing, looking up at the clouds.

“Because it would be dangerous,” Starchild replied easily. “Your kind hates mine.”

“I don’t hate you,” Ace argued, sitting up.

Starchild sat up as well. “Well, of course you don’t. But other humans do; humans are always invading the Moors. That’s why we have Gene and the other border guards. And that’s how…” he trailed off, realizing what he was about to say.

“That’s how what?” Ace asked curiously.

Starchild drew his legs up to his chest and pressed his chin to his knees. “That’s how my parents died. Well, everyone says that’s how, anyway. They were defending the Moors from invading humans, and were killed.”

Ace fell silent. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Ace laid a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “Do you miss them?”

Starchild shrugged. “I never even knew them.” How did you miss that which you never even knew?

Ace was silent for a moment, then he spoke again, sounding more optimistic. “Well, when I become king, we can change all of that.”

“Really?” Starchild looked at him interestedly. “Would we be able to do that?”

“Of course we would! I’d be king; I could do whatever I wanted.”

“We could really unite the kingdoms?” Despite not understanding how kings and rulers worked, Starchild was growing more excited at the thought.

Ace grinned at him. “Sure! We’d do it together, Starshine!”

Starchild grinned back, for once too excited to care about Ace’s nickname for him. A chance to unite the two kingdoms, and bring an end to the constant conflict—that sounded amazing.

One thing Starchild loved above all else was singing. He would sing to all the younger creatures of the Moors, after they begged him to do so of course, and he sang for Ace as well.

“A naoidhean bhig, cluinn mo ghuth. Mise ri d’ thaobh, O mhaighdean bhan…”

Starchild’s eyes were closed as he sang the ancient lullaby of the Moors. He loved singing this song; according to those who had known his parents, it was a song they had sung to him as a baby. Whenever he sang it, it made him feel just a little bit closer to the parents he had never known.

“Ar righinn oig, fas as faic. Do thir, dileas fhein…” The sudden touch of a hand lacing their fingers together made him trail off, and he opened his eyes.

Ace sat beside him, watching him sing and listening with a look akin to awe. The look on Ace’s face was making Starchild’s heart beat faster, and for a moment he just gazed at it.

Ace squeezed his hand. “Keep going,” he whispered.

Starchild smiled, a little shyly, then closed his eyes and kept singing. Their hands stayed linked together.

As it will, friendship turned into something else. And on his sixteenth birthday, Ace gave Starchild a gift.

“Close your eyes, Starshine,” Ace said to him. Smiling slightly in anticipation, Starchild obediently shut his eyes.

He felt Ace take his hands, and his heart began to quicken slightly. And it beat ever faster when he felt Ace press his lips to his own in a kiss.

When Ace slowly pulled away, Starchild half-wanted to pull him back and kiss him again. Ace smiled at him, in the way that made Starchild’s heart flutter. “Y’know what that was, Starshine?” Ace asked.

“What was it?” Starchild breathed.

“That… was true love’s kiss.”

Starchild’s heart swelled. He leaned in and kissed Ace again, eyes fluttering shut once more as the sun set behind them.

Ace told him it was true love’s kiss.

But it was not to be.