She lies painfully, frozen in place; back arched almost to breaking, wings matted and trickling blood from where they are ripping away. Behind an ebony blindfold, her eyes are half-lidded, bloodshot, weeping tears that freeze the moment they are shed. Her mouth is frozen shut, lips an almost neon blue. She has long since stopped screaming.

Do not beg for justice, else your wish may be granted.

The Cocytus stirs slightly, its ice rippling in soft circles. The water hisses quietly and turns to mist where the goddess' feet nearly touch it. The sufferer mentally convulses, and wonders with vague hate, a twisted remnant of love, how much longer she will have to suffer.

You were weak. You succumbed. You failed me.

The goddess smiles and licks her lips, eyes glinting with a hilarity only she can comprehend. Her hands cup the sufferer's face, warm and gentle as only a mother's or a lover's can be.

But it's time for you to come back, my lustitia, my Themis...

Themis whimpers piteously, the once-frozen droplets on her face cascading down in fiery rivulets to join the river.

It's time for you to be mine again.

The world gains light as the cloth over her eyes is ripped off.

My Justice.

A/N: That was...pitiful. Excuse me.
The origins of my shiny new developing plot, Sandwich. Moirae is reclaiming Themis from Tartarus so that she may be reborn, and the Merging completed. The title is a reference to Dante's Inferno. Themis' position is as described there, that of traitors to benefactors both inferior and superior.