For a time Thranduil remained frozen where he knelt - for the might of Melkor was a terrible thing for any to behold and in that presence even the stoutest heart might quail in fear. Yet it was not only Thranduil who had fallen into silence for Annatar had grown just as still as he. And this was because even though he was known to the elves now as Annatar he was and ever would be Sauron the Abhorred in the service of his Dark Lord. That part that was still devoted to his station bid him to remain quiet; for the years had been long since he looked last on his Master and the sight brought too many emotions that words failed to describe.

In time Thranduil came to focus on the orc captain still speaking hurriedly beside him on whose attention Melkor was fixed - the hideous creatures tone brash and mocking at moments, respectful at others while occasionally falling into low simpering tones and Thranduil could only guess that he was relating some account of the Seige of Gondolin.

Thoughts of escape flared within him then but in the very moment that he first imagined it with a throaty snarl the orc-captain hauled him roughly to his feet and spoke once more in quick Black Speech, pushing him a step forward.

Then to Thranduil Melkor returned his gaze and in the depths of his eyes was malice unmeasured and all hope of escape fled from the elf - leaving him feeling vulnerable and alone. Melkors movements were few yet those he made had an unusual quality that unnerved Thranduil in every way - for they were like the fluidity and predatory grace of a snake regarding its prey and poised to strike at the slightest sign of frailty. After a moment of standing in despairing silence into which no one - not even the gathered orcs - dared utter sound; a pleasing smile that was ever so slight came upon Melkors face.

Thranduil did not understand it's meaning, for he could see no reason why the Enemy might show him kindness; yet the softest ripples of laughter echoed deep in his mind and suddenly he grew chill with dismay.

And when Melkor did speak at last it was deceptively soft though the Vala's voice thrummed with hidden strength and echoed without sound through the massive chamber. "My dear elfling, far have you traveled through many hardships to enter into my hall. Your cooperation in this matter is greatly appreciated. Yet take heart, for now your journey is done."

Such was Melkors guile that though knowing his enemy was full of lies and deceit Thranduil still felt the flare of hope of mercy awake within him, for he had expected only outright malice and knew not of Bauglirs subtleties.

"Yet, still one small thing is needed of you though I know you to be weary and much in want of rest. It is only that I desire to know something. Snara, a servant of mine has told rumor that you were in service to a noble house of Gondolin and were close to an elf-lord there. Who was this lord of yours, may I ask?"

Great was the desire of Thranduil to speak then of Gondolin; yet he restrained his tongue for he would not betray his friends. Yet to Annatar Thranduils thought returned.

I ask again! Remove me from this lying memory!

And I say again, Annatar replied just as firm as he had the first time. Should I do this then what healer would I be? For I would harm my patient for fear of doing what is needed. Thranduil need I remind you that I do this for your sake alone?

Melkors voice then intruded; as hard as stone, frigid as the barren north, but as scathing as the fires of the deep earth. Yet it was wrapped in warmth and a false kindness so inviting that few were the number of Ilúvaters children who would have seen past it to the venom below the surface.

"If you are who the orcs say then fear not, for you will live. But that I can only say if I knew for certain who your service in Gondolin was owed to."

Even still Thranduil withheld though Melkor had now begun to gather his will and force it's pressure down upon his silent prisoner.

I will not say! So what if he should slay me in this world of hollow dreams? For I live in a world beyond these visions!

Yet, Annatar spoke. - if by misfortune you should meet with death here in memory than your life out of it cannot be promised.

Now Thranduil felt true anguish and fear for he had thought himself immune to any death Melkor may assign to him. Yet Annatar was eager to soothe the prince with ill council.

Still know Thranduil that you have less to fear than what might be thought. For even if you divulge all you know this very moment take heed! For now even if you divulge all you know those words would be spoken in a dream world and any action taken here for good or evil will not alter what is or what will be, for it lies in a different reality that exists here alone.

And Annatar continued; So no harm will be done young prince, by any confession you might make. Save of course, only to yourself if you should refuse the strongest of the Ainur.

Then Thranduil still did not speak, yet Annatar added; Only to we two are your deeds here known. You may trust in my absolute silence on what you may endure here.

So it was that Thranduil finally found his courage and spoke aloud into the echoing hall. "What matter is it to you, Bauglir of my allegiance? Yet know this then if you must, I was in the service of the Lord of the House of the Fountain and Ecthelion was his name."

Melkor gave a bitter laugh that grated like stone. "Then as promised your life is preserved! What fortune for you elfling. For in this matter you can be of assistance to me concerning a debt owed by the Lord to which you pledged your allegiance."

"A debt?" Thranduil spoke incredulously. "What possibly could you be owed by my Lord? Nothing Ecthelion took from you - nor ever would!"

"Yet." Melkor spoke ever so softly, but his voice was unyielding. "-there is one thing he has with his own hand deprived me of - a captain of incalculable value to me who had many more centuries of service ahead of him. This debt is owed to me by Ecthelion; yet he is no more. Still, I might be persuaded to allow one in his service to absolve this debt on his behalf."

Hearing this now Thranduil forgot himself in his fury and with heat he spoke: "A debt you say? None is owed you! The fault is yours alone - for you of your own will assailed our fair city without provocation! No compensation is owed by any elf for any loss of yours!

"Without provocation?" Melkor spoke, and now he moved to a slow pace before the still restrained elf who even now tested his bonds. In his voice the edges of a deadly coldness had begun to creep.

"Your companions, and I might wager even yourself, have ever slain those in my service beyond the boundaries of your hidden city! For the very existence of my subjects offends your elven kind. Do I not then have the sovereigns right - the duty to protect that which is mine? Compensation for these unjust actions was taken in Gondolin. It is now for you to settle this one last account. Or-"

And here Melkor paused as the smile returned to his face, now with the first hints of true malevolence tugging at the edges.

"If another in the service of Ecthelion be brought forth then the debt may be paid by them instead - if you know of one still alive?"

Thranduil once more fell into silence, yet in vain for Melkor spoke.

"A small matter it is if a minor band of elves manages to escape my grasp - for I have in large part gained what I desired. Yet; I hear among those fleeing is a most unusual elf to be dwelling in a Ñoldor stronghold, an elf clad as a march-warden in silver - with pale hair to match. A former warrior of Dior under the direct command of Ecthelion."

Then for all his strength of mind Thranduil felt as if his heart were being cruelly crushed by the meaning in those heavy words even as Melkors smile grew broad and his manner jovial.

"I could always send word as fast as the crow flies, it is no great matter to me. Shall I have my orcs fetch him then? This - Oropher was it?"

In panic Thranduils mind raced and he thought frantically;

'He cannot gain my father can he? This cannot truly be!'

And Annatar replied; 'No he cannot in reality. Yet in this alternate history deep within the mind he can conjure his likeness. Such are the dreams of dragons that they manifest quite realistically ones greatest fears. The question is Thranduil, do you believe you could endure watching your fathers torment - even if you know it is only a fell dream?'

"No." Thranduil spoke aloud. "I will not betray my kin. Yet neither will I pay ANY debt that you - father of deceit - claim to be owed! Go back to the void, cretin!"

There was a cry of anger among the orcs still around him and one lashed out a grimy hand to strike him; yet Thranduil dodged and in an instant had kicked the offending minion aside - as his captors had failed to bind his feet, something they now came to rue even as Thranduil struck now and again. Each hit calculated, each dodge keeping the elf just out of harms way. For his speed and strength was greater than theirs and even bound as he was Thranduil proved a formidable foe.

Then a bellow came from the hall amid the clamor of orcish cries. The heavy pounding of footsteps drew Thranduils attention and he turned in time to watch with wide eyes even as mass of shadow and flame roared into the room; for a passing Balrog had heard the commotion and was now hot with anger at this brazen disrespect for his lord. This time Thranduils speed was not enough and he was caught in an instant and held down by the great beast. The heat of the Balrogs hand burned on the other side of Thranduil mithril armor and sent hot pain through his shoulder where it rested and he was in grave fear that with the great bulk of the beast above him that the hissing oil and tar from it's body would drip on him.

Then Thranduil called upon every power of enchantment and strength he knew from his youth in Doriath and recited well the deep songs of power sung by Thingol and Melian themselves in their earliest days - songs of wells and springs, songs of the rain and the lakes and above all the great river Esgalduin that flowed into the mighty Sirion who flowed into the depths of all the waters of the world.

And a sudden cold shut out the heat of the Balrog and the dreadful spirit sprang away from the elf with a loud bellow of confusion. For even as he stepped back the beasts hand had grown chill and crusted from the coldness of the silver armor. Rising to his feet once more Thranduil watched as the orcs fled from him, for though he could not see it his eyes roiled like the untamed depths of Ulmos' waters and around him shimmered a veil of cold mist. And using that power he shattered his own bounds, so that he stood unfettered in the dark lords hall and there he looked the great evil in the eye in challenge.

"I will suffer no one to command me. I will suffer no one to control me, least of all you!"

Still, for all he had witnessed Melkor stood as he had before with hands folded in front of him and a calmness in his bearing. Yet his words were dripping with venom when next he spoke. "You will suffer, that is the only part of your words that rings true, elf. I wonder, though you wield a cold power your heart is finally set ablaze in your folly. But how long will it be before that fire is quenched with your own bitter tears? You say least of all me? Such a quaint, but wrong notion - for I deem that if I am to be defeated it will not be by one spoiled little elfling who knows not the breadth of the world. You are as quick to flatter yourself as you are to insult your betters, how uncouth."

Thranduil. Annatar's voice came to the elf, though the maia was least in his thoughts at that moment. Calm is needed here for you do not have the advantage -

"Vile creature." Thranduil hissed, and at the sound a deep echoing entered into the wide chamber as if a source of great water had been unleashed, it's roaring drowning out all other sound but Thranduils voice. And great rivers now began to wind about him in the chilling air and he gained strength from them as they ran their wavering courses. "If I do nothing more...I will smite you - for all that I have lost at your hand!"

Heedless, Thranduil lunged toward his most hated foe. Yet the strike fell into open air, for though Melkor had stood motionless only a moment before he was now gone. There was a footfall behind Thranduil and as he spun he caught sight of obsidian black robes just moving at the edges of his vision. Time and again he lunged and swung, yet each time his foe vanished with a blur of darkness and the lingering echo of mocking laughter. And with each failed strike Thranduils anger burned hotter within him until finally he yelled -

"Coward! Stop these games and stand your ground! For the least you can do is fight with dignity even if you lack all honor! Or are you afraid to face the beating you are so sorely owed?"

And when next Thranduil turned he saw his enemy once more standing before him, as motionless as he had been at the start with his back to the iron throne whose barbs and spikes framed his form as a dark halo. Melkors face was unreadable for it showed neither anger, nor amusement, nor even curiosity. Thranduil lunged once again and summoning all the power of his spell-craft and deep anger he swung again - the only thought in his mind being to at the least cause some pain to the great deceiver.

This time his fist hit something solid, connecting hard with an immobile target. Yet the thrill of victory that had flared in Thranduils chest died even as he saw now clearly that while he had hit something that it had not been Melkor. For even as the Vala stood there he had not moved to block the blow, yet Thranduils clenched fist was halted only an inch from his face and held back by some unseen force. The currents of roaring water that surged around Thranduils arm crackled and wrenched - instantly sharpening into cruel shards of ice that shattered like glass, their harsh breaking upon the polished stone floor echoing with deafening loudness in his ears. Thranduil thought to move, to open distance between himself and this otherworldly monster he had so rashly challenged. Yet suddenly the air became viscous and every breath had to be pulled roughly into his burning lungs. His body bowed with the unseen weight that bore down on every fiber in his being, drawing it toward the earth.

Thranduil collapsed to his knees, his hands on the cold stone floor. He shook with effort, for the pressure of that infernal aura drove him downwards as if the weight of all Arda had fallen on him. And while he knelt there with head bowed he heard Melkor speak once more.

"Your foolhardy bravery is I suppose admirable at the least, though it amounted to so very little than to scare a few orcs. Though from the beginning it was a pointless endeavor; though a great water may rage and roar it can never on it's own bring down a mountain. Still you did well for an elfling, you should be proud of yourself - for few have even had the heart to challenge me."

And Thranduil for all his rage knew he was defeated and hard pressed he was to hold back his sorrow. Yet Melkor had already guessed his mood. "Two minutes ago was it?" Thranduil for all his effort could not raise his head and so turned it to the side, that he might look up at Melkor. And the Vala smirked back at him. "That I said it would end in those bitter tears that I see even now in those fair blue eyes."

Then Thranduil could no longer bear to look at his enemy and so stared at the black stone beneath him, his chest tightening yet more for this added insult.

"Yet forgive me, for I cannot remember what triviality it was that you wished to quarrel over. Still, let us put that in the past. All I wish for is the repayment of my debt and that I ask only one elf should be taken as a sign of generosity; for a host of elves would be more deserving in payment of what I have lost and that which I dearly miss."

And Thranduil peered up at his enemy with loathing yet Melkor returned a gaze of authority that was not to be questioned.

Annatar spoke. Thranduil I know you're hurt at heart; yet striving against him will gain you nothing. You are in the stronghold of the enemy, without allies, without hope of rescue. It would be prudent to play along with him in this case until you might make an escape.

And Thranduil replied: I do this only for the assurance of your confidence, for if this were real in all ways I would gladly choose the halls of Mandos over the hells of Melkor.

He scarcely had realized that the miasma had lessened when Thranduil saw Melkor move. And the Vala offered him his hand, even those hands that had been blistered by the purity of the Silmarills. For a moment Thranduil only sat in abject misery, loathing both his enemy and himself. Yet at last he took that offered hand and allowed the Dark Lord to raise him to his feet.

A moment then they stood in silence. Then Melkor began to walk, yet his grip on Thranduils arm he did not release and after a step the elf was pulled behind him. At this Thranduil began to twist, attempting to free his arm even as he was pulled across the throne-room. Yet the hand was now clamped like a vise upon his wrist and no movement he could make would free it. So now with anger re-kindled in his heart he cried; "Release me now villain! What right do you even have to touch me?!"

And Melkor spoke: "I merely offered a hand to aid you, and now I will guide you in the ways of your new home."

But Thranduil was not placated and instead struck out at his capturer, hitting at the arm that held him. And Melkor spoke some word, yet it was not one that Thranduil understood and so he sent another punch at the Vala's arm. And this process was repeated again but only served to fuel the elfs anger - for he thought Melkor to be mocking him even as he was roughly dragged from the throne-room and into a narrow corridor that led far below the earth.

Here Thranduils fear overcame his fury and he began in earnest to try freeing himself from that dread grip. Yet though he pried at that darkened hand the fingers remained wrapped just as tight. So Thranduil turned once more to lashing out at his opponent, yet every strike only elicited a new comment in that dreadful orcish tongue.

Yet in his mind Annatar cried out; Thranduil! Stop now!

But there was no halting the elfs thrashing and several more times he struck at the Iron Vala - yet elicited no more response than a gnat buzzing at a lion.

But Annatar grew more urgent, saying; Stop that - you know not what you're doing and in the end you'll suffer for it!

Finally Thranduil snapped, Much advice you offer yet little has it helped me here! I will at least show my resistance even if my strikes are not noticed!

And Annatar growled. Fool of an elf! Do you not know what he's doing? He-

But in that moment even as Thranduil glared balefully at the Iron Vala the dark ones gaze snapped to the side and a sudden silence came over the maia. In that moment Thranduil grew deathly afraid; for even if he despaired of Annatars council he would rather have it than be completely forsaken in Angband.

Annatar! Are you okay? Please speak with me- what happened?

Slow was Annatars voice in returning, yet at last he spoke.

I am fine. But Thranduil stop.

And there was such a firmness in that request that Thranduil ceased to strike out at Melkor. Yet he was still being dragged by one arm and so directed all his might towards that restraining hand.

What is happening? Where am I being taken?!

You should have stopped when first I told you, now it cannot be avoided.

What? Thranduil thought - panic rising within him.

You will learn the laws of Angband in time; that every offense toward the lord of the Hells of Iron is avenged and not one is forgiven until paid back in blood.

And for a moment Thranduil ceased even to struggled but instead stumbled along dumbly as those hellish words sank deep into his mind.

You should not have struck him, but I cannot help you now with this-

Annatar wait-

This is the consequence of your own actions Thranduil, I'm sorry..

And it was then that Melkor came to a halt before a great vaulted door of iron and steel and through the door could be heard the lamentation of elves echoing on cold stone walls and cries of anguish amid the laughter of orcs. And for all his regal bearing and noble raiment the smile that Melkor turned to Thranduil in that moment was one of such unsurpassed cruelty that the elf flinched as if he had already been struck.

Annatar! End this nightmare now and take me back to the waking world!

I think that best. Annatar replied.

In the dark of the guest room Thranduil bolted to his feet. Latching onto the cool and quiet darkness the elf-prince regained his bearings. Yet he flinched as a rattle reached his ears but was grateful for the cleansing moonlight that now flooded the room as Annatar opened the shutters. For a long while Thranduil paced the floor, hands clasped tightly so that the knuckles were white and bloodless and he shook with fear even though he knew he was awake at last.

After a long while pacing and after his gasping breath had slowed to a calm rhythm, Thranduil looked over at his guest. Annatar gazed from the balcony over the city of Ost-in-Edhil; his rose-gold hair muted to a pale copper under the light of the full moon. He did not move as Thranduil stepped onto the balcony yet continued to set his eyes over the sleeping city.

"You...did well considering what was lain before you. I am surprised by that."

Thranduil came to stand beside him. "Thank you...though I feel I did far more poorly than I imagined I would. Bravery it seems is not my strong suit."

Annatar fell back into silence, yet soon returned from his reverie. "However; I now fear for your rehabilitation. It has not gone...according to plan."

"How so?" Thranduil spoke as he leaned against the balcony railing.

With a sigh heavy and weary Annatar said; "The memories must be allowed to play out for this spell-craft of mine to work properly. You must create these memories before they can be reconciled and then set in the back of your mind. Yet; the appearance of the Dark Lord...complicates things."

"Yes..." Thranduil mused. "But why did you tell me to halt? I would rather have gone to whatever doom lies ahead defying it utterly and to the last!"

"You know not the mind of the Dark Lord. For that was your first lesson in Angband. As I said before, every wrong against Him is avenged." Annatar sighed.

"But he was muttering the Black Speech at me."

Moving from his spot Annatar strode slowly to the door. "He was not muttering Thranduil." Annatar said most unexpectedly, causing the elf to frown in confusion even as the maia opened the front door. Then Annatar raised his head to look him without wavering in the eyes from across the narrow room.

"He was counting."

Annatar took his leave. Thranduil stood at the balcony, a wave of sickening realization rising within him even as he tried to keep his mind.

"What have I gotten myself into..?"

Authors Note:

Finally, this chapter is done! Whoo...go team. That was an ordeal.

Thranduil: *eye twitch* You think it was an ordeal for you - what about me?

Melkor: Aw...

Thranduil: *flinch* YOUR'E STILL HERE?!

Melkor: Hm...I was kind of hoping for...more?

- dudebro you know this is rated T right?-

Melkor: ...

- no.-

Melkor: *grin*

- you know what? Mairon is right over there. Go bug him. -

*Melkor out*

*Distant Mairon cursing*

Thranduil: I feel like I've dodged a bullet here...

Thank You for reading! ( especially if you make it this far - this is longer than I expected it to be!)