The rich, earthy scent of damp forest soil was one she had loved almost all of her life. Today it was sickening. Everything made her stomach wrench and her head spin. It was almost more comforting for her to remain prone among the fallen leaves than it was to find the strength to stand. Truthfully, she wanted to die. She had been violated, her power stolen for someone else's gain. Hadn't it been her own faulty though? She had trusted humans and befriended them even.

She rolled onto her side with a guttural moan, leaves and other woodland debris clinging to the dried blood on her back. Since she had awoken, the fairy had avoided the truth. Now she had no choice but to acknowledge it and with trembling fingers traced the identical wounds just below her shoulder blades. She sucked her breath in sharply and withdrew her hand. They were gone, along with them everything that made her who she was.

I am ruined.

Maleficent feebly pulled herself to her feet, using the gnarled low hanging branches of a tree to steady herself. Never had she felt so weak and useless, and the world seemed a darker place because of it. She could not continue her missive in this state, and secretly she doubted if she could continue on ever again. In her mind, she had failed. She had allowed herself to be tricked and lost her wings in the process.

Father would be devastated, she thought. As would Mother.

Her only purpose had been to protect the forests and all of the creatures. For many moons she had done that very well, but youthful innocence and recklessness had intervened. Maleficent vowed to never love anything other than the trees and animals again. They were harmless and needed her if she ever could provide them protection again. That remained to be seen.

With nothing left for her under those dark trees, she set forth to find a hiding place to lick her wounds and plan for the future. The fairy's steps were clumsy and slow, and her only support a twisted oaken staff. Defeated, she retreated into the heart of the forest.

In comparison to the crystalline lakes and flower filled vales of her home, this part of the forest was very different. The oaks towered above with canopies so thick that sunlight struggled to reach the worn path below. The babbling of a brook could be heard in the distance, but otherwise it was silent save for the occasional caw of a raven. It was a feral beauty that Maleficent could appreciate, and the dimness was something that soothed her aching soul.

A sudden movement to the right surprised her. From beneath the thick underbrush, a large black spider scurried across the path of ahead. Of course there had been spiders in her realm, but they were sunny creatures who spun satin webs and bothered no one. This creature had a sinister aura about it. The spider clicked it jaws in her direction but hurried on, leaving the fairy more startled than hurt.

What other creatures dwell here?

She had never been one to fear even the most revolting woodland beings. Not everything in her land was pixie-like. Aurochs freely roamed about, and tree-men went about their business after all. However the sudden appearance of the spider left her unsettled. Things were familiar here yet twisted and frightening at the same time. With a much warier outlook than before, she continued down the dark path.

It was near sundown when she stopped. Maleficent took comfort in the autumn breeze. It helped to clear her mind and energize her body, although she was utterly exhausted from travel and her wounds. She leaned against the trunk of an ancient tree and allowed her eyes to close. Caught up in the bliss of both a respite from her wandering and of the cool evening, she allowed her mind to wander and failed to hear the approaching footsteps.

Truthfully though, anyone could have failed to hear the soft steps approaching. It was their custom to be silent while moving through the forest. A pair of rough hands took a hold as her eyes few open.

The fairy whirled around and found herself face to face with a creature she had heard of though never seen. By all accounts she was facing a wingless fairy clothed in olive and tan suede. Her captor was much taller than any of the men she seen, although much leaner. His lanky frame towered over her, although Maleficent did not doubt that his litheness was something to scorn. The fingers digging into her shoulders belied any weakness.

"Who are you?" the elf inquired, tightening his grasp on her shoulders lest she decide to flee. "And why are you on the King's road?" At this hour?

"I am simply traveling," Maleficent replied coolly, not pleased she had been trapped yet again. "I would not think that a mere vagabond would be questioned so."

"Of course," he responded skeptically. "The King does not allow strangers in his realm and if you choose to remain so, then I must bring you to my Lord."

He was rather unenthused about bringing her to his father. Darkness was falling and the hunting party had failed to see anything else suspicious during their scouting. If they had not had the misfortune of finding this strayling, the night may have been spent happily in the taverns of Lake Town. Now his work was far from over. Oropher would undoubtedly question the lass, and then of course question him as well. "Come now," Thranduil sighed.

She was weakened from her injuries and offered futile resistance. Maleficent twisted and writhed, but he held tight. She glowered at the rest of the mounted elves. Their failure to stop this insult only ignited her anger. Among her own kind, she commanded respect. She was beloved and unequaled. Rather than seeing that the elves were simply doing the will of their king and meant no real harm, Maleficent firmly believed that she would be mistreated again.

Thranduil effortlessly hoisted her into the saddle, and mounted behind her. His gray stallion let out a shrill cry in protest to the doubled weight, and pawed at the leaves below his hooves. Feeling a tap of booted heels on his sides, the horse settled and leapt away.

"Where are you taking me?" Maleficent spat.

"To the King. I told you this."

She sulked for the entirety of the journey, perched uncomfortably against the pommel of the saddle to avoid even the slightest contact with the elf. She flinched whenever his arm brushed her to guide the horse. When they crossed the Forest River, she refused lean back into his hold and flopped aimlessly forward when the stallion's hooves briefly lost footing on the wet stones. Maleficent heaved a sign of irritation when Thranduil reached forward to steady her, and he made no further attempts to aid her.

It was well after dark when they arrived at their destination. Elvish ponies were quite a bit more efficient than other horses. They had made the journey north to the Elvenking's halls in only a matter of hours when it would of taken men at least a day. Very few creatures rivaled the swiftness of the ponies, save for perhaps the fleet footed elk the King tamed or one of the Mearas. Although it was believed that the ponies possessed the blood of the Mearas.

The fairy refused to dismount on her own and thusly had to be brought down. She made herself as limp as possible although her slender frame was no real trouble for Thranduil. He was quite accustomed to loading wine barrels to send back to Lake Town, and even empty those weighed a great deal more than her.

Maleficent struggled and made herself as difficult as possible so that he drew her down the corridors, at times nearly lifting her. She cursed her weakness. If it had been any other time, they never would have captured her in the first place.

"I advise you to show more cooperation with the King than you have with me," Thranduil advised. "It is in his hands as to whether or not you continue your journey." With those final words, he slowly opened a great carven wooden door and thrust her into the warm light within.

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the change in brightness, but once Maleficent became more familiar with her surroundings, some of her bravado diminished. She was facing a tall, imposing creature that was not unlike her guard. However this elf lacked any aura of compassion or warmth. Her captor had been patient if nothing else. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest, his features set in a deadpan stare.

"Come forward," the Elvenking commanded, his dulcet voice daring her to defy him.