Deep in the Black Land of Mordor, quite a ways from Mount Doom, a great and terrible volcano, with a cloud of smog and puff of smoke so great the land of Mordor is eternally shrouded from the sun, stood a great black fortress with many towers. Atop the greatest of the towers was a great eye of flames, with a great slit in the middle.
The Eye of Sauron. Dark Lord of Mordor. Forger of the Rings and Servant of Morgoth.
And right now, his gaze was cast unto the chamber where he forged the Ring of Power, where a fight which could change the fate of all is taking place, between a Hobbit, and a creature that once was Hobbit-like. The two; Frodo Baggins and the creature Gollum were battling for ownership of the Ring.
Gollum threw himself on Frodo, who was invisible as he was wearing his Ring. Gollum clawed and pulled and punched, and Frodo attempted to throw him off.
Gollum took one of Frodo's invisible hands and bit his pointer finger off, revealing Frodo, and the One Ring. Frodo fell to the ground and clutched the bleeding stub as Gollum held the finger in his sickly hand, pulling off the One Ring. He held it high above his head and looked through it.
The Precious was his!
Frodo in his anger tackled Gollum, the two falling over the stone precipice! Luckily Frodo held on at just the last second, but Gollum wasn't so lucky.
He descended into the fiery pit below, clutching the One Ring close to him, nuzzling it. Yet he crashed against the lava, his back searing in pain as the lava threatened to swallow him whole.
The Precious! He must save the Precious! He held it aloft in his hand, attempting to prolong its destruction. Yet, soon his head was swallowed by the magma, and his arm, then his hand.
The Ring persisted, floating along with the magma, the fiery letters of corrupted Quenya lighting upon its body.
Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk, agh burzum-ishi krimpatul
Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky,
Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,
Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die,
One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne
In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.
One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them
The ring then was drowned by the fires of Mount Doom.
Outside, Sauron was desperately trying to find a way to avoid his death, his eye looking all around, it's gaze illuminating all of Mordor. Yet it was all for naught, he poured too much of himself into the One Ring.
Barad-Dûr's supports crumbled and the black tower fell, Sauran's eye giving out one final shriek before exploding in a burst of energy so great that the very land of Mordor crumbled, decimating the Orc forces, scattering the stone and iron fragments of Sauron's fortress all across the Black Land.
Mount Doom erupted, the smog increasing in intensity, lava pouring over the peak, flooding the land of Mordor. The Nazgul, riding atop their Fell-Beasts were smashed by fiery rocks, as if by the fury of the gods themselves.
The Dark Lord was dead.
Sauron awoke in shock. His eyes shooting open. He screamed in terror. His breathing was ragged, his heart pounded in his chest. He breathed through his nose, and exhaled through his mouth, calming himself.
He had lived!
Rather than go to the Timeless Halls of Eru Illuvitar or the Halls of Mandos or the Void, he had gone....wherever he is.
He got up, feeling that he wasn't in a humanoid form, yet he ignored it. He looked around, he was in some sort of forest that practically reeked of Darkness and magic. His eyes locked upon a nearby pound of clear water. He walked over to it, and looked upon his reflection.
His mane was a deep reddish auburn, as was his tail, and both flowed loosely and fully. The fur covering his body was a dark brunette. Upon his flanks was a most curious mark. It was a hammer for which he had forged within his time as a Smith under Aule, crossed with the mace he had used to slay Elendil the Tall. Behind them were the elements of which he was master of circling in a storm. He looked again into the pool of water, his eyes were a charming, yet deceptive blue. Adorned on his head, poking through his long mane and from his skull was a horn that was the same brown as his coat.
"Interesting," Sauron mused aloud. He did a double-take, that wasn't Black Speech, nor Quenya. "Very interesting. It seems I am unable to speak in that tongue. Furthermore, it seems I am some sort of pony or equine. A unicorn to be specific"
He continued to talk to himself, listening to the sound of his own voice, getting used to it. His voice sounded silky, smooth. Enchanting. Downright sirenic.
Good, he could use this to his advantage in the future.
"I wonder, can I change my form?" Sauron mused aloud. "If I still can, I should start small. Perhaps a small serpent."
He closed his eyes and concentrated, focusing his energy and imagining the serpent in his mind, the scale color, and how they would flex and coil as smoothly as silk. He imagined his fangs, and the venom sacks that would join them in the upper area of his mouth, he imagined his limbs retracting, the four legs unnecessary in this form. He imagined his tongue splitting, something akin to nostrils forming in it. He imagined his eyes turning to slits, allowing him to see much better than most.
Sauron opened his eyes, viewing the world around him in hues as the infrared vision kicked in. He found himself unable to smell, save for when he would flick out his tongue and hiss, taking in smells his pony nose couldn't.
Wonderful! I suppose that I have been given back my power. Or, Equine form doesn't necessarily equate itself as a fair form. Either way, I have my shapechanging abilities returned to me to the fullest.
Then, with a thought, the former Dark Lord returned to his equine form, his body returning to its original anatomy.
"This is good. This is very good. Now, what world am I in? It seems dominated by Equines, with Unicorns being this world's Elves. Most curious," Sauron mused to himself. "Hmm.....well. I suppose I can interact with the populace. After all, I doubt conquering this world alone would be easy, even with my power returned to me. A Maia can only do so much on their own."
He then began trotting towards a nearby town.
It was lively and small, with ponies of various kinds dashing about. Some with horns, some with wings, some without any of these traits. They were different than the horses on Arda. They were more....human in a way. More thoughtful. In their eyes was the glimmer of sapient thought. Of the ability to perceive themselves and the world around them. The structures built around them were built by pony hooves. Yet it still felt familiar to the Maia.
Though these ponies were in different shapes, it reminded him of the Elves and Men of Arda. And the other sub-species of elf and man, in a vague sense.
And to them, he was one of them. One of theirs.
Sauron wondered what a corrupted pony-orc would look like, and how it would act.
In some ways, they were kinder than Men.
They looked at him as he trotted through the street. He was obviously a stranger to them, but they did not approach him, nor even give him a second glance. It was just a look, a small smile, and maybe a wave, then back to life as it was.
It wasn't until he came across a couple trotting his way. One was a mint green unicorn with a lighter green mane and tail with a lyre symbol, and the other was butterscotch with a mane and tail of pink and work blue with candy pieces as her symbol.
"Are you lost, sir?" The mint green unicorn asked.
Sauron contemplated for a moment before answering.
"Uh, yes," he nodded, putting on the guise of a tourist and traveler. "I come from far away. I just came through the forest from outside of town."
"You traveled through the Everfree, alone?" The butterscotch mare asked. "Your a braver stallion than most!"
"Yes, well, I got lucky," Sauron said. It wasn't entirely false. By whatever providence allowed him here in this new world, he came unharmed. No manner of beast approached him, for who knows how long he slept! Furthermore, he woke close to the town.
"Hmm....well, Princess Twilight can help you get your bearings," the mint green pony said.
"Ah, thank you....um...I never caught your names," Sauron said.
"Oh, I'm Lyra Heartstrings, and this is my FIllyfriend, Bon Bon," the mint green unicorn said with a smile.
"What's yours?" The mint green unicorn asked.
"Uh...." Sauron thought for a moment, before answering. The answer perplexing him internally. "Hammer. Hammer Fall."
"Well, nice to meet, you, Hammer Fall," Lyra said. "By the way, Princess Twilight's house is the giant crystal castle. Just go further down the road and you'll see it!"
"Thank, Ms. Heartstrings. Ms. Bon Bon." Sauron nodded as he began trotting again, the couple going back on their route. As he walked, he began musing internally. This world seems so different from Arda, from Ea. Untouched from Evil and Darkness.
As he walked further, he felt that there was darkness here, but also Light. And something else. Something he couldn't put his hoof on. This world seemed, what is the word? Kind?
Sauron felt, odd. He hadn't felt this way for millennia. Not since before he was taken by Melkor. Not since he was but a smith Maia, in the service of Aule. Not since he called himself-
Sauron stopped himself. What was he going on about? The only true power is through domination. That was what he learned through Melkor. It was better to be feared than loved.
He cleared his head of such intrusive thoughts with a light shake.
He kept on trekking, mentally planning how he would remake his nation in this new world. That forest no doubt would be a great base camp, the natural darkness there could be helpful in remaking the Orcs. He could expand into this village and use it to house forges and kilns. Or more likely, a prisoner camp. The ponies here could make good laborers. He'd need to get in bed with the rulers, of course. As to manipulate them and get the resources he'd need. And perhaps, by some impossibility, return to Ea and continue his campaign against the free peoples of Arda. Bolstered by the forces of a second world entirely.
His conniving ended as he came to a large crystalline castle that, the architect in him, simultaneously despised and loved. Loved, for the fact that an architect had formed crystal into a palace like this. No, more it looked as though it was grown. As a plant would grow.
He despised it however because it stood out too much amongst these simple cottages. It belonged more in the capital of sorts. Unless he was in said capital. However, he doubted such a thing to be true.
He sighed and approached the twin doors, noticing the lack of guards stationed outside. He outstretched his hoof and knocked on the door, giving three measured knocks.
He then stepped back and respectfully waited. Mentally planning what he could do with this castle's resources. Perhaps the crystals could be used as conductors of a sort? What would crystal weaponry look like?
The planning was dashed once more as the door creeked open.
