A/N: you may have noticed the corny chapter titles which I haven't used before in my storied. They were really more for my purposes than anything. This is the first time I didn't write everything in order and I found it easier to put things together when I knew what each chapter was about.

So I apologize for the cheese.

Revenge

They had been traveling for four days now, riding as fast as they could in the conditions that they were given. Rhapsody and Omet pulled their horses off of the trail into some nearby small bushes and trees. The terrain had not supported many of these growths, but a few were scattered along the way and luckily, one of them rested just outside of the entrance to the caves.

Rhapsody could feel Achmed inside of there, far and deep inside. It was just barely past noon and two Nain guards stood watch at the entrance. Fearing that more would be close at hand, Omet and Rhapsody decided that it would be best to hide out until the sunset before coming up on the guards. The moon was still in it's early phase allowing a dimness that would provide good cover.

Rhapsody had come to realize that two days ago, Achmed had stopped moving further away and she and Omet were finally able to gain on his position. This was both good and bad news to Rhapsody. She was now able to catch up, but it also meant that Achmed was no longer traveling and whatever was wanted with him in the first place was probably happening now.

Try as she might, she could think of no real good reason why someone would want to capture Achmed. It seemed to her that anyone who felt he was in the way of something would want to just kill him. The only thing that made sense was either he was bait for a trap, or someone wanted information. But who would want Achmed for information?

Achmed was the king of the Firbolg. He had little to do with the Cymrian Alliance and there was no one outside of her, Grunthor, Omet, and Meridion, and a few Archons who knew of the secret he was keeping in the mountain.

This whole thing stank of a trap, but there was really nothing that she could do about it. If the trap was for her, then she would just have to work carefully not to spring it. If it was more of a lure to leave the mountain unguarded, they had already taken care of that by making sure Grunthor stayed behind.

But no matter what the reason for his kidnapping, Rhapsody had to go in there and get him out. She had no other choice in her mind.

The day before…

Achmed came to finding himself hanging from his wrists about a foot from the ground. Looking up, we saw that his wrists had been locked in iron manacles that had been looped through the bottom link in the chain that he had noticed earlier.

The last thing that he could remember was the F'dor, in his face, saying something about taking Rhapsody as a host and then a hard, heavy blow to the back of his head, probably delivered by the possessed Meridion.

Now here he was, chained in another defenseless position, waiting for his wife to come and save him. Though, from the previous conversation with the F'dor, she was going to be walking into some kind of a trap. Mentally, Achmed hit himself over and over for this whole thing. He should never have allowed himself to be taken in the first place, and now Rhapsody was going to be strolling right into danger and he wouldn't even be able to back her up. Worst of all, as hard as he searched, Achmed could just not detect Grunthor with her. She was coming here without anyone to back her up and walking right into a trap.

Now, Achmed thought, maybe I deserve whatever fate awaits me with this demon, but Rhapsody certainly does not. As the Dhracian dangled there, tearing himself apart, the F'dor had come up behind him.

"Awake now?" the smooth, yet harsh tones of the F'dor asked.

Achmed had been so taken with his own mental berating, that he didn't even sense the demon approaching. At the sound of the voice, he gave a quick jerk in his chains, suddenly startled by presence. Achmed wanted to scowl as he heard the F'dor laughing behind him from his reaction, but the gag that still silenced him prevented much lip movement.

"Jumpy are we?" Gyrlyth sneered. "Well you should be. I'm here to take out my revenge upon you before your own wife comes to finish you off."

Achmed wanted nothing more than to kick the F'dor in the stomach, and he nearly did so just as white hot pain lashed across his back as the demon raked it with some form of whip. Not suspecting anything of the kind, a muffled grunt of pain was brought from the king to the satisfaction of the F'dor.

"You really are a disappointment King Achmed. I thought that you were a strong, stoic sort who would never give his enemies the benefit of seeing you in pain or at a disadvantage. It will be almost a favor for you when Rhapsody arrives and springs the trap that shall end your life."

Gyrlyth walked around to stand in front of Achmed before continuing. "I think that maybe it will be best if you know exactly what is to happen to you, so you are able to prepare for the inevitable. Your wife, who I'm sure you know is already on her way, will walk into this room and have just enough time to see you hanging about sixty feet from the floor. By then, I will have had a bed of vertically planted spears erected directly below your dangling body.'

'As soon as she enters, if her sword is not already drawn, a Nain solider will rush her, forcing her to draw her sword. Now, may I direct your attention to the wench that is holding your chain?" The F'dor said as he pointed over towards the other wall. Achmed looked over to where the demon was pointing.

"That devise has been set to be triggered by the precise vibrations that Daystar Clarion gives. As soon as the vibrations hit it, it will release your chain, allowing your body to free fall right onto the spears below, ultimately killing you, right before the Lady's eyes."

No! Achmed tried to scream but was unable to. Struggling against the chain, Achmed tried to get at the demon in front of him. He did manage to kick him, but not even hard enough to make the man wince. The furry and racial hate that had clouded Achmed before had come back ten fold. Now, not only was this man plotting against him, but Rhapsody as well.

The F'dor just stood back, out of the range of the thrashing Achmed, with a gloating smile. After Achmed had calmed down a bit, seeing that his outburst was completely useless, the F'dor continued. "Yes, you shall die before her eyes. And then her own son will commit suicide before her eyes. Meridion has been, programmed I guess you could say, to enter the room and kill himself with his father's sword right after your own death. The combined loss of husband and son and the reminder of a husband she has already lost, will no doubt make her easy prey," the F'dor sneered.

Achmed shook with contained rage; but his rage was the only thing that kept him from giving into the all consuming fear for Rhapsody. He knew that she was strong and would like to believe that his and Meridion's deaths would not make her as susceptible as this F'dor planed. But he had seen how she had taken Joe's death. She had nearly given up, allowed herself to follow Joe to the afterlife. It was Achmed's singing, ironically, that brought her back from that edge. And if it hadn't been for Achmed, she would have been in the same state, if not worse, when Ashe left her. Death was a thing that strongly affected her and for her to witness two deaths of ones she loves with no one there to pull her back from the edge, she could conceivably hand herself over to the F'dor without a fight.

As the rage and fear battled in Achmed's mind, he lost sight of the F'dor for a moment, only to become painfully aware of the demons position. Another sharp painful lashed raked his back once again. Dimly, he was able to hear what the demon was now saying as he continued to strike.

"Now, it is my turn to show you how it feels to helplessly dangle while another tortures you. You may not realize the horrific pain that a F'dor goes through while in the Thrall ritual, but I am certainly going to try to show it to you."

Most of that day was a blur of pain, anger, and fear for Achmed as the demon took his revenge upon the last Dhracian who had tortured him. It was drawing close to the evening hours, though in the caves Achmed didn't know this, when the demon had gotten out most of his rage and summoned Meridion to him.

"Now," Gyrlyth said to Achmed. "I will leave my thrall to hoist you up and to erect your death bed of spears. I must go now to finish off the pathetic king of the Nain so that I may take his place. I wish you pleasant dreams, since they will be your last here on Earth."

The F'dor turned and was about to leave when Meridion said, "Master, we want to make sure that the Dhracian is alive when the singer arrives yes?"

Gyrlyth paused and turned back to Meridion, "Yes," he said flatly.

"Should we at least give him some water? He has not eaten or drank in four days. We wouldn't want him to die of thirst before the Lady arrives."

A slight smile crossed the Nain's lips as he replied, "I realize that it is more the Lord Cymrian talking than my thrall, but nevertheless, I agree with you. Give him water and then place yourself in the other hall to await your mother's arrival." The F'dor turned once again and walked out of the room, leaving his presence lingering within the enthralled Meridion.

Walking to across the great room they were in, Meridion left out of a back tunnel and soon returned with a canteen of water. Walking over to the wench at the side wall, he pressed the release button, causing the chain to run out and a bloodied, exhausted Achmed to crumple to the ground.

Meridion crossed the floor to the body of his friend and step father in a quick and detached way. Reaching Achmed, he knelt down and lifted his head, reaching around to untie the cloth that dug into the king's face, keeping him from speaking this whole time. Once the strip of cloth and the wad that was stuffed into his mouth were removed, Achmed tried to say something to Meridion, but was nearly choked when the canteen was quickly thrust into his mouth.

Luckily, Achmed had been able to swallow most of the water, but some of slipped down towards his lungs, causing him to sputter and cough up that little bit. He had barely regained his breath when Meridion was bringing the gag back to place. Just before the cloth was stuffed back into his mouth, Achmed managed to rasp out, "fight it, Meridion."

His words didn't seem to have an immediate impact as Meridion continued to securely tie the gag back into place. But Achmed saw a moment of hesitation when he had finished. Meridion stared down at Achmed, hurt and pain shown in his eyes as he tried to fight against the controlling force that gripped him. A single tear rolled down his face before the pain was replaced by the same blank stare that had held him before. But instead of raising Achmed up once again, the possessed Meridion pulled a piece of cloth from his robe and using water form the canteen, doused it.

Bending down once again, he used the dampened cloth to rinse the wounds that crossed along Achmed's back. He washed away the fresh and drying blood that covered it, revealing the angry red lines that now covered him. Completely exhausted and in great pain, all Achmed could do was lay there and allow the thrall to tend to his wounds.

Achmed knew that this was only because the F'dor didn't want him to die before Rhapsody arrived and he had to make sure that he was not going to bleed to death in the mean time. But Achmed also knew that the suggestion was implanted by Meridion. The Lord was putting up a fight, but Achmed feared that it would not be strong enough. So far, Meridion was only able to act on things that the F'dor agreed with, if he tried to stop, say, Achmed's or his own death, it was unlikely that he would be able to do so.

As soon as Meridion had finished washing Achmed's wounds, he turned and walked back over to the wench. Turning the crank, he hoisted Achmed up off of the ground once again and far up into the air. When he was eye level with the tunnel that he had originally entered through, Meridion paused momentarily.

Achmed knew this was not as high as the F'dor had promised and he weakly glanced over to where Meridion stood, hands still on the wench, tension shaking his body. He was battling with the demon once again. Maybe he was strong enough, Achmed thought.

But in another moment, he was hoisted up further before Meridion secured him into place, setting the trigger to release when the vibration of Rhapsody's sword sounded.

All that night, Meridion worked at erecting the spears directly blow Achmed as the king passed in and out of consciousness. Time was slipping away from him as he felt Rhapsody draw closer and closer to him. She would be there in a few hours; how was he to warn her that she was walking right into a trap?