I'll try to keep Author's Notes short and to the point, and not often, since I know a lot of you hate ANs. This is my first Maleficent fic, and one of my first fanfics, so please be polite and mindful of that. This is not currently Beta read/approved, though I'm willing to take offers if anyone is interested. I appreciate any constructive criticisms you have to offer in the reviews, which make me update faster. I do have this fic outlined out, so hopefully updates will be frequent.

This fic is set in the time of the movie, with some slight deviations based on my own interpretations and thoughts while watching. It's rated T for some content, mostly violence and disturbing things, as well as possible triggers. Sexual situations in later chapters, though mostly implied, still intense, but I'll post warnings in the ANs.

I think that covers it, so hope you enjoy the story!

- Raven

Chapter 1- flightless

"Maleficent? Maleficent!"

The boy's voice pitched with the usual cadence of a pre-pubescent 12 year old. He stood between two towering statues, the gray rock faded and covered with moss, carved in the shape of faces with huge, gaping mouths. He shifted his weight back and forth, scanning the forest before him anxiously, but there was nothing but silence from the trees. The boy slumped and turned, his feet dragging reluctantly against the grass.

A flap of wings and a gust of wind behind him made him stop in surprise.

"Look who finally decided to show up," a girl's voice spoke to his back, a laugh in her voice. "After all these weeks."

The boy turned, and found himself face to face with Maleficent. He stood and gaped for a moment, still caught off guard with how she always managed to arrive so silently and always when he least expected it.

"Well, where have you been?" Her lips curled in a smile, and her emerald eyes twinkled with gold.

"I…I'm…I was…" he stammered helplessly, too embarrassed to admit the truth, and too proud to admit he was embarrassed. Maleficent laughed, and he found himself smiling as well, albeit a little sheepishly.

"You're forgiven, whatever the reason was," she said, then frowned, her eyes flashing gold. "But don't be late again."

The boy gulped, nodding his head rapidly as he stared at her cold expression, which immediately melted into a laugh once more, her wings rippling in excitement as she grinned at him. The boy's shoulders slumped once more, in relief this time, and he chuckled along with her, watching the way her eyes lit up and her wings spread out behind her in her amusement.

"So, what do you do for fun around here?" He asked, once their laughter had subsided.

Maleficent's eyes flashed gold once more, and before he could understand how it had happened, she was behind him, her hands catching him around the waist, and suddenly he was no longer on his feet, and instead being lifted up into the sky, gusts of wind ruffling his hair. He let out a strangled yelp of surprise, and heard Maleficent laughing above him. Raising his head at an awkward angle, he saw Maleficent's outline, her hands wrapped tightly around him, her wings beating a steady rhythm, blasting him gently with waves of wind. Looking down, he could see the Moors stretching out beneath him, his feet dancing along the tops of the trees as they passed overhead. A grin split his features, and his fear vanished as the beauty of the enchanted place struck him, the view like nothing he had ever seen before.

Maleficent carried them past the lake where he had stolen the diamond, and continued through the Moors, watching with delight as he waved and laughed at all the creatures who came out to see the odd sight of her carrying the human above the ground. A tall cliff, taller than any of the others, came into view, and on top of the cliff an old, twisted tree stood proudly, watching over everything. The boy couldn't help but feel a twinge of worry as they approached the tree, flying lower, and closer by the second. His hands moved to where Maleficent's lay against his stomach, and felt her give a powerful flap of her wings before suddenly letting go, and he yelled as he fell, down, down…and landed safely in a large nest curled in the center of the tree's branches. He gasped for breath, and watched as Maleficent herself gracefully landed on the branch above him, tucking her wings neatly against her back, her feet swinging lightly in his face.

"That was cruel," he said, scowling at her in irritation as he tried to avoid her feet.

"I could have dropped you off the cliff, you know," she said in response, raising her chin slightly.

"Well, then, that was kind of you," he amended quickly, embarrassed again.

Maleficent smiled smugly, a throaty sort of chuckle slipping past her lips. Her eyes shifted to the left, staring out over the Moors.

"What do you think?" Her voice was quiet, but expectant, and the boy followed her gaze, taking in the land once again.

"It's incredible," he breathed, awed. You're incredible.

She smiled, and rose into the air again, hovering above him and extending a foot. He stared at it, then at her, his brow furrowing, and her smile relaxed for just a second.

"You trust me, don't you?"

Always.

He reached up and took a hold of her ankle, and she was smiling again, laughing as she carried him out of the tree and then dropped, pulling out of the dive to glide gracefully across the lake. His feet dangled in the water before she gave a sudden kick, her wings lifting her up, and the boy found himself falling face first into the water, spluttering and coughing as he came up, trying to catch his breath in the midst of Maleficent's laughter. He tried to frown, to be angry, but her laugh went through him, and he was laughing too, and held out his hand to her, a silent request to help him out of the water.

She flapped her wings, hovering over him once more. Her hand grasped his firmly, and she pulled, but he didn't budge. Her wings strained and she frowned, a grimace overtaking her features as her hand seemed to burn. Crying out, she tried again to pull him out of the water. But even as she strained he still didn't move, instead beginning to sink; and he was taking her down with her.

"No! Stefan, stop!" She tried to release him, but now her feet were in the water, her waist…it was up to her chest now, her wings sticking to her back as she desperately tried to free herself. But too late, for now the water was over her head, filling her lungs and eyes and mouth. She tried to scream, to call for help, but no help was to be found. Not even the water sprites came to her aid. All that there was was the grip on her hand, dragging her steadily downwards.

Suddenly, her feet hit something solid and the water was gone, and she fell to her knees, tears and water streaming down her face as she coughed and vomited up to water that had settled in her chest. Two booted feet came into her view, and she brought her hands up, resting her weight on her palms, but then she hissed in pain and leaned back, bringing her right hand up to her face. Through the streams of water she could make out an angry red welt in the center of her palm, so small it was almost unnoticeable….a burn. She gasped, her fingers just brushing the surface of the wound, not daring to believe it was there. But it was, and it wasn't healing like it was supposed to.

Feet.

She remembered suddenly that she hadn't been alone, and she raised her head to stare at a dark silhouette standing above her, his face surrounded in shadow. She pushed herself up and stood shakily, her wings fluttering weakly to try and keep her on her feet. The figure still towered over her, the man's face unreadable, and unrecognizable. She squinted, the dark hair curling around his face was somewhat familiar….

"Stefan?" She whispered, and the figure stiffened, a chin raising slowly in defiance.

Stefan, for of course it was he, stood unmoving, and it unnerved Maleficent greatly. He didn't look any worse for wear, and his clothes were dry, which confused her more than anything.

"I'm glad you're alright," she said tentatively, and he shifted, taking a step forward. For some reason, she found herself stepping backwards away from him.

"I was afraid you had drowned," she continued, stepping back again as he moved closer.

"That's a foolish thing to think," he said, and his voice was darker than it usually was, cold and harsh, yet burning in intensity. Like iron.

Maleficent laughed nervously. "Yes, it is. Very foolish. I'm glad to see it's not true."

She tripped, and Stefan caught her, grabbing her wrist and pulling her almost violently towards him, catching her against his chest before she could fall again. Pain flared against her skin, and she squirmed, a small whimper escaping her.

"Stefan, please," she gasped, struggling to free herself from his grasp. "Your ring."

He said nothing, and did nothing for a moment, before releasing her, and she stared at the burn mark on the inside of her wrist, just as angry and inflamed as the one on her palm.

"You're scaring me, Stefan," she whispered, staring up at him in growing horror.

"Good."

The one word sent a chill down her spine, and her wings ruffled, instinctively raising her a foot off the ground before setting her back down again. This couldn't be her Stefan. He would never hurt her like this. He had thrown away the ring, she had seen him do it; he had thrown it away, just so they could touch. His hair was curly, yes, but it wasn't wild like this. His eyes had never been this cold, never cruel. Not towards her. And yet, there he stood, cold, and cruel. Hurting with words, and with his hands.

A tremor went through her, and she turned to run, but he had grabbed her from behind, one hand digging viciously into her back, the other reaching around to grab her throat. A strangled cry escaped her as she felt the ring searing into her neck. She found herself on her knees, Stefan's hands keeping her in place. His grip on her throat slackened before releasing completely, and she sighed in temporary relief before her breath caught once more.

There was an awful rattling sound, and her blood ran cold, all rational thought seeming to flee in the wake of the metal. She could feel his hands moving now, though she was powerless to stop him, and within moments she felt the iron chains wrapping around her wings, binding them and digging into her back. Silent tears streamed down her face as the iron seared her back, and she twisted desperately; vainly, to try and free herself.

"Please!" She cried, her voice choked with pain. "Stefan, please!"

She didn't quite know what she was begging him to do, or not do, as long as it didn't involve this…this torment. There was a cold, sliding sound. More metal, but different from the iron which was burning her flesh.

A knife.

She was panting now, her breaths coming in sharp, jagged bursts, and the pain was making her head spin. She felt something foreign touch her wings, and they jerked violently, thrashing against the chains and causing the metal to dig even further into her back. Stefan's hands moved once more, and the chains tightened, pinning her wings tightly together and shifting the chains to rest against her shoulders. The knife came again, a quick, purposeful stab, slicing through her skin and partially severing one wing from her shoulder.

She screamed then, again and again in rhythm with his thrusts, the pain like nothing she had felt before. A numbness seemed to settle inside her, and she felt detached, like it was happening to someone else. Not her. Not him.

The chains fell from her body, and she felt something else drop with them, and she nearly stumbled backwards from the loss of weight. Her head turned, and through her fading vision she saw her wings, chained and bloodied, lying limp and lifeless in the soft grass. The pain tore through her in waves, burning from the iron, the torn flesh and crushed bones combining to drive her almost physically into the ground.

"How does it feel?" A cold voice hissed in her ear, and her eyes flashed in anger and pain.

"How does it feel to be a wingless fairy, in a world you don't belong to?"

The man's voice stopped, then changed, becoming younger; a boy's voice calling her name.

"Maleficent!"

Older now, 16.

"Happy birthday, Maleficent."

The ghost of a kiss pressing against her lips, her wings fluttering from pure joy, wings that now lay dying at her feet.

At his feet.

"How does it feel, Maleficent?" Old again, thick with anger and triumph.

She couldn't speak, couldn't move for the pain. Screams tore from her throat, and sobs wracked her body, bent and twisted on the ground.

Maleficent.

"I'm sorry, Maleficent."

Maleficent!

His voice, calling her.

"Forgive me."

Never!

"Maleficent!"

Her eyes flew open, a gasp escaping her lips. Emerald orbs, now glowing softly, flicked restlessly around the place she now lay. Tree roots enveloped her body, embracing her the way her wings used to, reminding her all too sharply of all that had been taken from her. She shifted her weight and winced at the sharp stab of pain that went through her, gritting her teeth and drawing a quick breath, releasing it in a hiss as the pain eased and she straightened.

Her hand reached out and grabbed the staff that leaned against the tree's trunk, vines twisting so delicately around the wood that one would have thought it to be a part of the tree itself. Its only distinctive feature which separated it from its cousin was the purple, gold and emerald jewel resting in a small ornate cage on top of the staff. Maleficent's hands gripped the familiar wood of the staff in both hands at first, resting its tip on the ground and leaning half of her weight on it, stopping short when her back protested at the slight strain. Cursing furiously under her breath, she reached a hand out and placed it on the trunk of the tree, leaning sideways and simultaneously pushing off with the staff, somewhat effectively bringing herself to her feet.

She drew several quick breaths, more gasping than actual breathing, and closed her eyes, allowing her body to adjust to being upright and unbalanced. Her eyes opened at the sound of wings, much smaller than her own had been, and was met with the sight of a pure black raven, cawing and struggling to find a way through the tangle of roots that enveloped her. She pursed her lips and blew a small wisp of magic in the bird's direction, and the bird squawked indignantly, but flew through the small hole that she had landed him in front of.

The raven flew closer to her, squawking anxiously, and she flicked her fingers, a dark smoke engulfing him before a man stood before her, just a few inches shorter than she, dark, thin hair plastered to his face, and charcoal black eyes staring at her in concern. His brow was slightly furrowed, accentuating the scars that graced his face.

There was silence between the two for a moment, then the voice called again.

"Maleficent!" Almost angry, but more desperate than anything else.

The woman in question stiffened, her fingers wrapping tightly around the staff, and her jaw clenching.

"He's been there for 'least an hour now, calling you," the raven-man said, peering at Maleficent closely.

"Let him call," she said, her chin lifting as she swallowed.

She turned and ducked between two branches, stepping out from the shelter of the tree, and the man followed her at a careful distance, just a few steps behind should she need his help. Not that she'd ever admit to needing it.

"You were screaming again." The man said, finding no other way to phrase his concern than with the truth.

She stopped, and he could see the way her body tensed, seeming to curl in on itself, ready to run or protect at a moment's notice.

"I was not." No protests or excuses. Just direct, and blunt denial; a command wrapped in the lie.

And she continued walking, the subject clearly dangerous grounds to tread. But he trod anyway. Dangerous grounds were his favorite places to be as a raven, there were always the best treasures hidden there. And this was no exception in his mind.

"You were." He insisted, stepping over an upturned root and moving to walk alongside her, turning his body so he could stare at her face. "I heard you. And," he lowered his voice. "He did as well, I'm sure of it."

"Enough."

She didn't need to look at him for the man to know he had gone too far. He nodded his head once, then fell into a more easy step beside her, and she relaxed, her staff and the occasional misstep onto a twig the only sounds between them. After a moment, the man began to realize that they were going the wrong way.

"Aren't you going to see what he wants?" He asked, turning once more to face her.

Only silence in response.

"But surely you're curious?" He continued, anxious and not completely sure why. "It must be important, and if the border guards haven't killed him yet then..."

"What? I suppose you will?" She finally said, a hint of amusement in her tone as she inclined her head to him.

"I might," he replied immediately, eliciting the smallest traces of a smile from her, the sight making him wish to never see it end. But it did, as was characteristic to her.

"You wouldn't," she said, and that was that.

"I would," he repeated, his tone slightly darker as he stared at her, thinking on all that the man had done to her, and how desperately he wished to make him pay for it.

She stopped, and for a moment he thought she was angry; her eyes certainly seemed that way. But then she sighed and waved her hand again, and he flapped his wings, cawing as he lifted himself into the air.

"Go and see what he wants, then, if you're so curious."

She said it so offhandedly, as though she herself could care less about it, although the raven knew that she was just as eager to know as he.

"Diaval." Her voice stopped him, and he quickly shifted his wings to carry him back so he glided over her head.

"Be careful," she said, quieter than before, almost vulnerable, and then it was gone and she was cold once more.

But Diaval smiled to himself anyway, and took off towards the border, a growing sense of dread settling in his stomach as he thought of why on earth would he return after all this time, and just how he thought Maleficent would do anything for him, after all that he had done to her.