A/N: 1,000 words or less Fireplace Challenge: Character Changing Event. This short fic will be relevant to my tale of Maglor in the Tales of the Elves series, but this one belongs to Maedhros.

Story Image Credit: (c) Jenny Dolfen, goldseven dot de

35 Years of the Sun

I fight the chains that bind me and the bile that threatens to rise. The stench of this place and these grotesque creatures is unbearable.

"You like my servants?" Morgoth hisses in my ear. He reads the disgust in my eyes. "Their flesh was once as fair as yours – descendants of the first elves who awakened in the east. Who knows? They could be your kin. Now they serve me."

I say nothing to this. I merely stare into the twisted face of the Vala, my father's defiance etched upon my brow. He sees it too – father's hatred in my eyes.

"You, too, will serve me – son of Fëanor." He adds the last to mock me. He knows my father is dead.

"Never," I growl. The sound of my voice frightens me. I have never known such rage.

"Why not? Do you fear losing this pretty face of yours? " Morgoth asks with feigned curiosity. He reaches out and touches my cheek. The icy caress sends daggers down my spine. I resist the instinct to recoil. "I can arrange for you to keep it, if you wish."

"Never," I repeat the word, a promise to myself and the monster that holds me captive.

The Vala grins. "Never is a long time for an immortal." He raises his hand and I am dragged away.

I did not measure time in Valinor. I do now. I measure it in pain. It started with my wrist – the cold metal cutting into my flesh. I fought it for – days? Weeks? Who knows? I do not fight that battle anymore. The pain extended down into my arm, my throat, my stomach... I never knew such terrible agony could come from within. My body screams for release and I can do nothing to silence its cries. Can an immortal starve to death? Can he die of thirst? He can. I know it. I wait now for the end.

The end does not come. No end. There is water, food, the stench of orc. I do not look at what they bring. I try not to drink, to eat. My body does not obey, can not obey. I keep shut my eyes. I can not know. The flesh of elves? The blood of kin? My rage explodes, directed inward. The body will not obey. It will not die. Rage will not let me fade.

Birds pick at my flesh, tearing, ripping. Not enough to kill. Scratched the rock. Too many lines. Overlapping. Can't measure...days, weeks, years. All lost. Please come. Maka. Brother. Save me! No. Can't risk, won't risk. This fate, my fate. Mine. Alone. Don't come.

Morgoth sits. Close. I tremble.

"Shall I cut you down now?"

Yes! "No."

Laughter. Laughter ringing. My hope. My mind. My soul. Shatters.

"Perhaps a few more years will change your mind?"

Laughter fades. The rock. The chain. I. Remain.

A song. I hear a song. I'm singing. No, not me. Someone else. Findekano? Can't be. The ships burned. Can't be. It is. Cousin. Help me! Save me! Kill me! End this. Please.

I wake. A face? Maka? Brother. "How long?"

Eyes darken. Tears fall. "Near thirty-five years of the sun."

The sun. The rock. The lines. "I lost count."

My head. Cradled. My hand. Held. "It does not matter now. You are here, and we will make you whole again."

Maka's eyes. He believes. Not I. My hand. My mind. My soul. Remain. Broken. On the mountain.

"Never whole." I know. "Never again."

FIN

A/N: Maka: Maka(laure), Maglor's name in Valinor; Morgoth: the villainous Vala from Silmarillion; Findekano (Fingon): Maedhros' cousin who rescued him from captivity by cutting off his hand