And now, back to Feywen. Please remember that this is twenty years after she tried to escape and was punished.

Disclaimer: I only own Feywen and her interests

Enjoy!

She opened her eyes slowly. Her arms hurt, but she didn't feel it. They had been hurting for a long time. She had lost count of the days, though, she was sure that it had been years since she had woken in the cell she was currently in, with her hands wrapped in burlap and her arms chained above her head. She only saw other prisoners, slaves that brought her food down. They were stragglers. Humans, Elves, and Dwarves that had not found safety beneath her shields. She recognized many of the elves as elves of Mirkwood, a place that would have been her forced home had she stayed there with Legolas and his father. She faintly felt Alu and Vilya. She was trapped in stone. There were no windows and no water except for at meals. And that water was not left in the cell with her. She took a shaky breath and waited for her meal to arrive.

She was weak. When she had first woken, Lithwen had told her that she had been in the cell for well over two weeks. Though she felt that she could have killed her then, Feywen knew she could not fight off all of Morgoth's forces while trying to escape in the condition she was in. Plus, Morgoth had made it clear that the next time she tried, something worse than the whip would be the consequence. Ever since then, she had been given a meager broth to eat and was watched while she relieved herself at least three times a day, which was usually before she was given her food which had to be fed to her like she was a babe as she was chained.

The only reason that she hadn't faded was because she knew what she had to do to destroy Morgoth for good. The only problem was that she was unsure how to go about it since she was chained and she had no idea how the jewels could be destroyed. To find that information, she needed access to Morgoth's library. But since she had been locked in the dungeon, all her privileges had been taken from her and she doubted that she would ever get them back.

She didn't look up as the door opened and a Dwarf woman entered her cell with her food.

She didn't look up as the Dwarf woman entered the kitchens. She and others had been captured while traveling from Erebor to the Iron Hills. The Dwarf men with them had also been captured and were now during labor as blacksmiths for the growing numbers of Dark Elves that were being born or created. Twenty years had passed and her plan to make Feywen jealous had not worked. Nothing she said bothered the Elandili. It was as if she had completely forgotten about her. "No, I doubt she would have forgotten about me. I go down there at least once a week to tend to her. But maybe she has forgotten who I am to her. Maybe she thinks that I am just another prisoner like the others." Lithwen hoped that was true. Then that would mean that she would not be treated as the traitor she was. Somehow, she knew that wasn't the case.

"Lithwen!" She jumped as her name was shouted across the kitchens, effectively spilling the bucket of water onto the floor. She didn't look up as the head cook stormed over to her. Since the Dwarf captives had come almost twenty years ago, she and the head cook were the only Elves that worked in it. The only problem for her was that the head cook was a Dark Elf and a bitch to work with.

"Yes, Alkima?" Lithwen answered.

"Look at me when I talk to you." She did and didn't like what she saw, as always. Alkima was pale, like all the others, but there was a scar that ran down one side of her face, over her neck, and down her chest and leg to her foot. She had been told that it had been a training session gone wrong. "You are in luck. You are wanted upstairs. Don't ask me why, I just know that his Majesty wants you. Though, I doubt it's to bed a traitorous whore like you. Get out of here." Lithwen stood quickly, slipping on the water, and hurried up the stairs. She had been summoned by Morgoth a few times and knew where he wanted her to go. She had been working in the kitchens for twenty years after the whole debacle with Feywen trying to escape. She wondered if she was finally being given back her armor. The prospect excited her and she hurried.

The door opened again. She looked up. It was unusual for someone to be returning so soon after she had eaten. Two guards, Dark Elves, stepped in. The burlap was taken from her hands and her arms were lowered to where they sat in front of her. She was unchained once she was supported by one of the guards and the chains from her ankles were taken as well. She was helped to her feet and her arms were draped over two sets of shoulders. The guards helped her out of the door and down the hallway. She couldn't tell if she was being taken to be punished again or if she was being rescued. She quailed under both thoughts. If she escaped, Morgoth was sure to unleash some new horror after her. If she was to be punished, then she would most likely die. Morgoth was cruel in his punishments, as she had quickly learned after one other escape attempt.

She looked around her as they entered the more spacious halls of the castle. Dark Elves were no longer the slaves. She saw some Men, Dwarves, and very little Elves. She knew their fate was her fault. She had not destroyed Morgoth in time and now he was beginning his war on them. She recognized many of the Elves she saw as Elves from Valinor. She knew that they had been sent back, just as she had, to fight the rising evil. "They must have been traveling to Lórien. I should have made a protected route between the Elven realms."

"Their fate is not your fault, Feywen. Look into their eyes. Does it look like they blame you for their fate?" Vilya said a little harshly. Feywen didn't answer and looked at the Elves. Many of them looked shocked that she was being escorted by two guards. By those looks alone, she knew that they had not expected to see her as a prisoner, or even in Morgoth's castle for that matter. She sighed and returned her eyes to the floor. She began counting the stones that passed under her feet as she was dragged through the halls. She would walk if she had the strength to.

She didn't raise her eyes again until she was placed in a comfortable chair. She finally looked at the guards. Dark Elves. She looked down again and hoped that she wasn't about to be punished. She kept her head down when she felt Morgoth enter the room.

"Feywen," she didn't face him.

"Just get on with whatever you are going to do." She said darkly.

"And what is it that you think I am going to do?"

"How should I know? You are the evil one. I am merely your prisoner."

"Well, then you will be pleased to know that nothing bad is going to happen to you."

"And why would I want to believe a demon who betrayed his own?"

"I understand your doubt. But I am telling the truth. You are being removed from the dungeons and to your own room-suite. You will have an Elf, one of your kind, to tend to you. Once you've regained enough of your strength, you'll be able to wander the castle again. For now, I want you to regain your strength."

"Why?"

"Because I need you alive. You are more valuable to me alive."

"Then I should just kill myself to foil whatever plans you have."

"You won't do that."

"And what makes you believe that?" Feywen finally looked up. Morgoth and the two guards backed away at the fire in her eyes. "What makes you think that I will not kill myself? Right now, that is the only way for me to be truly free of you."

"If you die, so do the shields you placed. You bound yourself to them. You die, so does all of Middle Earth."

"Are you sure?" She challenged. "Are you sure that my death will destroy those shields that I placed. They could very well also be strengthened by my spirit. So before you go saying things, you had better be sure that you can support them." The door opened and another Elf walked in.

"You summoned me, my Lord?" It was Lithwen.

"Yes I did, Lithwen. Feywen is being moved to her own suite. You are going to be the one to nurse her back to health. You do not leave her side, no matter what she tells you. You listen to her when she has needs. But with discretion. She is not to leave her rooms. I will be checking in on her from time to time. And a guard will be posted out her door at all times." He turned to guards who had brought her in. "You two will be the first shift." They bowed. "You are all dismissed." Morgoth nodded to some unvoiced question and Feywen was picked up, bridal, and carried out of the room. Lithwen followed and she was followed by the second guard. Feywen took a better look at the hall she was in. It was apparent that Morgoth had added to the décor. Not that she cared much. But it would help her to know where she was going when she was free to wander the halls again.

"Lithwen." Feywen called. The Elf woman quickened her pace to match the guard's.

"Yes, my Lady?"

"How long have I been down there? How many months have passed? It surely hasn't been that long."

"It has been twenty years, my Lady."

"Twenty years. Are you sure?"

"I am, my Lady. It has been twenty years since you wandered Mordor without his Majesty's permission. Your back has not healed correctly and we must tend to it before any more infections can get a hold of you." She fell back and Feywen continued to look at the hall she was being taken down. It was obvious that this hall housed Morgoth and his guests. And now her. As far as she knew, Glorfindel had stayed well enough away from Mordor, and her. The thought saddened her. She wanted to see him. But he couldn't see her. Not even her deepest sleep could bring him to her. Not that she had had a deep enough sleep in twenty years. She feared to. The last one had brought nightmares of Glorfindel's death before Aragorn found her. After that, she had not slept deep enough for him to return. She knew she had done it out of fear. Fear that Morgoth would find his way into her mind and destroy the peace she could possibly find.

"This will not last long." She thought as she was carried into her room. She looked around and saw the front room. It had plush, brown couches and chairs. A fire crackled, oddly, merrily in the fireplace. She was carried to the left and to the bedroom where a large canopy bed was. The red curtains were closed and another fire was lit. Lithwen pulled back the blankets and the guard set her down before leaving the room. Lithwen pulled a silk nightgown from a dresser. Feywen was undressed and redressed into her nightclothes. She looked at the bloody clothes that she had been in for the past twenty years. They didn't even look like rags. She realized that a lot must have been showing as she was taken from the dungeons, to the study, and to her rooms.

Lithwen pushed her back against the pillows and pulled the blankets to her chin. The last thing she saw before she fell asleep was Lithwen throwing the tattered excuse for rags into the fire.

Well? And I don't care if your reviews are flames. I like reviews of all kinds. I like the honesty you all provide me. It helps me write. Thanks for reading and please review.