I was in a stone room. Supposedly, anyway. Falcon had led me here without a word, and all the while I felt eyes on me and occasionally deep, rolling, guttural laughter, but I never saw a soul.

It was clear there were enchantments everywhere. There were no doors or walls to anything, apparently, because although it was made of stone, Falcon had no problem sailing to and fro as if walls were an illusion. I had tried to do the same--but my prison held me as any normal dungeon would.

I noticed the chains I previously had thought were only attached to the floor were attached to me on the other end. My wrists were bound in tight black steel, and although generally rather unfashionable, also made me fully appreciate the fact that I was a prisoner.

Now I was starting to panic. Based on some stupid, inept reasoning, I somehow hadn't bargained for this much security, and the only thing in the room didn't give me much hope. It was a thin, black chain that protruded from the floor like an ugly tentacle.

I had been searched, of course, when I arrived, and even though I doubt Falcon, who wanted me to use the necklace, would have taken it from me, I wasn't going to take any chances.

Quite suddenly, I felt a sort of pull, a feeling of being extremely drowsy. I tried to press open my eyes but I was too far gone, and I recalled that I couldn't stay away from my world for so long again.

Even though after the stars had appeared on my skin, I had gained the advantage of being able to return at will, though I seldom did. Perhaps it was the pressing purpose that distracted me from others. Either way, Falcon would have a fit when he found me gone. I smiled at the thought and stretched, the rough hospital sheets rustling.

It had only been like half hour. How nice of the Valar to arrange this time thing. I yawned, and it hit me that I hadn't been wearing the necklace.

With a feeling of creeping dread, I recalled that I had to be wearing it in order to maintain the balance between our worlds. I slowly became aware of the stone pressing against my leg--it only had to be touching my skin. I breathed in relief, and sat up. As I reached out to move my hair out of my face, I felt a small pinch and realised that a tiny IV needle had been torn from my arm.
I rolled my eyes as a series of alarms were triggered, and two nurses ran in looking flustered.

They both relaxed when they saw me sitting up and looking alive, but it didn't stop one of them, the shorter one, from saying  "Is everything okay, honey?"

"Yes, thank you," I replied calmly. "I must have accidentally torn out my IV. To be honest I don't think I need it."

"Well, you been conscious for 24 hours," agreed the other nurse. "Why don't you try to eat some applesauce?"

I let out a shrill laugh and, mortified, covered my mouth with my hands.

"Did we say something amusing?" inquired the shorter nurse.

"I'm sorry--" I burst into laughter again and just shook my head no.

Applesauce. How mundane.

In the other reality I was trapped in a dungeon with a psychopath who had fantasies about me, and to add insult to injury, I had to find a way to save the world.

But applesauce.

I vaguely heard one of the nurses say "...side effect of medication." 

"We will have the doctor check on you soon," the tall nurse said through a disapproving set of pursed lips. They both left.

My maniacal laughter subsided and I dejectedly looked around the bare room.

How did I feel so out of place in my own world?

I drifted off to sleep. 

************

I woke up still in the hospital bed, irritatingly enough. It was dark out, and l could see the glow of a solitary streetlight reflected in the window.

I stretched, and cautiously moved to stand up. Even though my legs were a bit weak, I stood with no problem and decided to see if the door was locked.

It was. 

"Valar, this isn't a psychiatric ward," I scowled, rattling the door handle.

"Gianna?" said a concerned voice out of the darkness.

I whirled around, only to face my mother, who, unbeknownst to me, had fallen asleep in an armchair in the corner of the room.

"Mum," I said, rather relieved. "Sorry if I woke you."

"It's hard to sleep in the first place when you're wedged into an armchair," she pointed out.

"You didn't have to be here," I said with a sigh.

"No, but I wanted to be. Have you ever had someone you love in a coma? After that you never want to let them out of your sight." My mother uncrossed her legs and sat up.

"I really don't need to be in the hospital any more," I said, trying to sound as non-comatose as humanly possible.

The result was a voice like the too-chipper barista at Starbucks.

She always pronounced my name like "Gee-anna" even though half the world knew by now it was "Gee-awna".

"As far as I know, you're allowed to be discharged with probation tomorrow," my mother mentioned, pulling me out of my inner monologue against the general incompetence of Starbucks employees.

"'With probation?'" I said, incredulous. "What, am I a prisoner now?"

Ha, get it, because I actually was?

She laughed. "No, but the doctor will just call every day to be sure you're doing fine. If you have no problems after a week you can stay permanently."

"That's a relief," I said, noticing vaguely my hand was still on the doorknob.

"Try and sleep," my mum said cajolingly, "It won't help if you look dead tomorrow."

For some reason, the phrase "dead tomorrow" made me uncomfortable.

With another smile through the darkness towards the faded corner armchair, I crept back into the stiff, over-bleached sheets that smelled like Pine Sol and drifted into dreams again.

*************

Not against my wishes, though I hardly thought of it, I found myself in my prison cell once again. It was a roomy affair, with a stone bench in the middle I hadn't noticed before. I raised my eyebrows for a moment as I surveyed the room and found nobody in it, before primly adjusting my tousled tunic.

The instant I looked up, who else but Falcon was standing there.

"Fancy seeing you here," I said drily.

"How kind of you to join me," Falcon snarled.

Oh, good.

"Is there a problem?" I asked sweetly, daring to bat an eyelash.

His scowl tightened.

"I think there is indeed," he began. "You see, I don't expect you to defy orders and leave as you'd like."

"I hardly think you're the person to tell me what to do." I scoffed.

I felt his cold fingers under my chin as he lifted my face to look at him directly.
"You are mine, remember?" he said. "Never forget that, dearest."

I narrowed my eyes. "I can do nothing about it if I fade from this world," I snapped. "You should count your lucky stars that I appear back in your cell."

"'Count my lucky stars?'" Falcon said, with a chilling half-smile. His ice green eyes flickered to my chest where I would assume that the stars faintly glimmered. "Well, how ironic." 

I suppressed a shudder. "Could you explain why you need me so badly?" I intoned coldly.

"I could just show you instead," Falcon said in a low growl.

Probably the wrong wording on my part. I could swear my heart sped up uncomfortably. Valar, he was starting to seriously disturb me.

"What do you mean?" I said roughly, although my voice was faint.

He turned away, raking a hand through his hair in evident frustration.

"We may as well do it now," he finally said, turning to me with a smirk. "There's nothing for me to lose."

I thought for a sudden, terrifying moment just then he was going to force me to bed with him--it was clear by now he wanted more with me than whatever mission he was bound to do.

He suddenly thrust a rough key into the chains that bound me to the floor and they fell away with a startling clatter that made me flinch.

"Come with me," he said, turning around without any other motions. "And if you try to escape, you'll find it's very easy, actually. But for every inch you flee, that Prince and your dark haired friend--all of them will be just another point on a map."

His meaning was clear. I gingerly stepped after him, as if light footsteps would convince him I was no more than a shadow.

There was nobody else in the entire locale, the hallways were eerie and silent. However, I knew that enchantments and dark spells hid others from my sight--on purpose, I would suppose.

Finally, we entered an even larger room with even less tasteful decor than the first room.

"How about explaining yourself now?" I asked innocently.

He didn't turn around. "I said I would show you," he said in a low voice. "And I intend to."

The heavy door slammed shut with an ominous click of a lock.

Falcon finally looked at me and an odd smile was on his face. "This room has an enchantment on it--you cannot leave. If you do, it will pull your consciousness from your other world and you will die."

"How kind of you to arrange that," I said sarcastically. "Seeing as for right now, I could die in this very room first."

"I already assured you that I do not mean to kill you," he said bemusedly, as if wondering why on earth anybody would feel their lives were threatened by him.

"Why didn't you put me in this room first?" I pointed out.

"It takes a lot of power to arrange this sort of spell," he said thoughtfully. "It took awhile for me to amass that amount of dark energy."

I took a deep breath and considered my options.

Unsurprisingly, there weren't any.

Probably reading my mind, Falcon took full advantage of my utter defeat and took the opportunity to look me up and down very slowly. I shuddered to imagine what he was thinking, and instinctively backed away.

"You can't run from me," he said, his voice dark. He beckoned, and I was pushed towards him by an invisible force. I was less than three inches away from him, and he seemed to be relishing it.

He wrapped one of his arms around my waist and pulled me forward. I tried to stop myself, but there was a weight on my back, pushing me harder than I could resist. I gave in. I felt his breath on my ear and he said,

"I want you to me mine."

"You have no claim over me," I shot back, "and never will."

"I will soon enough."

I knew he smirked.

With relief, I felt him release me, only to realise I was held in place by the same insistent force, and could do naught but struggle.

"You said you wanted to know why I needed you," he began, circling me like a predator. "I want you for myself, I always have, since the moment I was chosen to go forth on this mission." He smiled at the thought.

"But you are useful to me for another reason, primarily, one I can't let you get away with. The Doors of Night will be completely unreachable unless you surrender to me the power you carry within you."

I looked at him as best I could through my figurative straitjacket. "Why would you ever consider the world needing of more access to the Doors?" I said, unsurprised at his continued acceptance of the evil he had said he wasn't.

"Our last powerful Maiar to walk the earth will fade forever," he said.

He made it sound like an exotic flower was on the endangered species list.

"Yes, poor little Sauron, isn't he victimised? The darling just needs love and care," I mocked.

"Evil will never leave this world, Gianna," he said, echoing his own words to me from a time ago.

"It matters little," I said. "Sauron is the last great evil. Mankind make their own evil, plenty enough for all. But dark magic, sorcery, necromancy--that has the potential to cast everything into darkness again should the world fall to its thralls."

"Would that be so bad?" He asked, adopting a softer tone.

"Would it, considering the world could have light instead?" I countered. "I must do what is asked of me, Falcon, and even Sauron cannot stand to the might of the Valar. Especially not the fragments of his darkness that are left."

"May the Valar's wrath fall upon me," he said carelessly. "But I care not. I am loyal to mine as you are to yours, I suppose. Sufficient consideration of your points isn't necessary for me to realise that you can't win. None of us can. You had better ensure you fight on the right side."

"I know what I stand for better than you do," I sighed. "It is that fact that I fear most."

"I should kill you, I really should," he cocked his head, as if contemplating the price of apples.

"Take me and do with me what you will," I dared him. "But I hate to think what will happen to you."

"I suppose we'll find out, won't we," he said, heat creeping into his voice again.

I fell to the floor and the wind went out of me in a huff. Before I could figure out the situation, Falcon had me pinned against a wall helplessly.

He looked deeply at me for so long I wished I could look away, but I was frozen in place, never more afraid in my life.

"I desire you more than that which I must achieve," he said in agony, reaching out a hand to touch my cheek. "You are irresistible."

He slowly came closer until I felt his lips graze my exposed neck. "If you survive this I intend to keep you here," he whispered against my skin.

"You know you cannot, Falcon," spat a voice behind him. He whirled around and I saw another man standing there, tall and bearded with beady black eyes. "I knew that this girl would be a problem for you."

"She is not a problem, master, I am about to initiate the collection," Falcon said calmly, facing the man.

"Among other things," laughed the man humourlessly. "I can see why you are so infatuated, but if you weaken her then she will never survive through the process. Do not make me do it myself."

"No, master," Falcon assented. Without another word, he raised his hands and I slumped to the floor again, breathing shallowly.

Thin black chains snaked out of the floor and bound my limbs to the cold stone floor instantly. Still unable to speak, I felt something cold all over me, yet nothing was there. I was freezing, colder than anything I had ever known, and there seemed to be no escape from the fire that froze my limbs. My vision was blurred and I vaguely heard speaking, but nothing comprehensible.

Without warning, there was pain. White-hot pain, more than the entirety of the world had known, intolerable, merciless, torturous. I screamed, long and piercing, and realised no sound was coming from me.

There were voices on the air around me, however, and I knew with certainty that Falcon had taken more of Sauron into himself by killing three men who had come into the room. I had been aware of their bodies falling beside me.

And yet, I had not died yet, though I felt I should have. The spirit of Ulmo, and then Manwë, and Lorien and Mandos, Varda, and Tulkas, Yavanna and the other Valar was inside me, calling for me to continue on. 

And I did.

The necklace pulsed into my chest with a power unknown and I knew it would protect me.

But the fight was not over. A black spear, more pointed and keen than anything yet, stabbed through my consciousness, an apparent essence of whatever spirit was present in the room. A voice more full of hatred than anything I could imagine spoke in my mind. "Hello, brother," it hissed vengefully.

Morgoth.

Through me, Manwe thrust a single beam of light and dissolved the black phantasm. "Do you see, Gianna, nothing but a shadow is left," he said, warmth filling me. "You have the means to end this."

A brief memory of the white stag flashed into my mind and I awoke in chill darkness. So weak, I could barely breathe. My hair was spread out on the floor as if a great wind had borne me, and I came to realise that Falcon was not able to take from me the thing he needed. The power in the stars was what he sought. The part of me that he wanted to take.

Falcon stood before me now, illuminated faintly by some external light source.

"May the Valar protect you as far as they'd please," he said in a low voice. "But I will break you in the end."

Regaining a functioning consciousness, I turned to look at him. "Break me, but I will never give in," I hoarsely said.

"There are other ways to control the power you wield," he assured me, almost to himself. "But as of now, I will continue to thwart you as I may."

"There is nothing else you can gain from me," I faintly said.

"Naught but a deep satisfaction," he agreed.

I had yet to experience that helpless agony.