I. The Coming of the Grey Pilgrim
Canterlot castle was quite a maze, the Witch-King had quickly discovered. After centuries upon centuries of learning to map his way through dark and imposing structures like Barad-dûr or Minas Morgul, the whimsical and downright cute structures of these Equestrians proved quite strange to Er-Mûrazôr.
It brought him some small comfort knowing that his fellow wraiths had similar problems. Just the other day, Khamûl had meant to use the bathroom and somehow found himself stuck in a broom closet twice.
But after about thirthy minutes of asking the staff for directions and walking in on ponies snogging in one closet or the other, the Witch-King stood at last infront of the door to his master's room. After a certain incident of walking in on the dark lord playing with his dolls way back when, Mûrazôr had learned that one should knock first and so he did.
"Enter!" Came Sauron's muffled call.
Without further ado, the Witch-King entered his master's lodging, only to flinch in shock as he gazed around the room.
Quite frankly, the royal chambers looked like a mess. What had undoubtedly once been a very neat, tidy and elegant lodging now looked as if a hurricane had worked itself through it. Furniture was carelessly thrown about, every single surface of the walls, including the windows, were covered in different notes and papers, some conected with a clear red line.
Said red lines all lead back to a single large white board where none other than Sauron was currently standing, looking pensive with a marker in hand.
"Ah, Mûrazôr." Sauron greeted without turning his head. "For a second I thought it was another one of those infernal ponies. Seriously, if I have to be hugged one more time I think I'm going to puke!"
"Master," The Witch-King said, hesitantly approaching the dark lord while gesturing to the messy surroundings. "What is all this? I always believed you had a love of order and efficiency?"
The dark lord sighed, sounding more defeated than ever. Mûrazôr was right, of course, Sauron loved order with a passion, it was the main reason he had joined Melkor all those ages ago. Knowing that he himself had went so low as to cause such disarray would have morally destroyed in any other situation. But for the moment, he had greater worries than properly arranging his sock drawer.
It had been quite the blow to Sauron's pride when the annoyingly colourful little beasts had been more than welcome of his 'conquest'. Being feared was something he could deal with, as a matter of fact he loved seeing lesser being cower before his evil majesty.
But being loved, hailed as a merciful saviour? That was just gross. He had lost count of the times the ponies would cheerfully wave at him, or some foals would run up and hug his legs. No matter how much he tried, none seemed to see the true threat and evil presence that he was!
"I'm trying to figure out a way to prove to these blasted equines that I am a being deserving to be feared!" Sauron said, at last turning to face the greatest of the Nine. "I've been brainstorming all day, what do you think?"
Mûrazôr spared a look at the white board, seeing that the great number of red lines were connected to a short list of supposedly wicked deeds:
DROWN PUPPIES?
SPIT IN HOTDOGS?
ASK FOR THE SALT AND DON'T SAY PLEASE?
DESTROY THE WORLD'S SUPPLY OF PAPRIKA?
TEACH FOALS TO SWEAR?
WAVE BARE BUTTOCKS AT OLD PONIES?
PUT PINEAPPLES ON PIZZA?
The Witch-King whistled, impressed (and somewhat disturbed) by his master's evil and horrific ideals. "They are all sufficiently malicious suggestions, my liege. I am certain that you will have the mewling fools cowering before you in no time."
"Maybe..." Sauron grumbled to himself. At that very moment, the creaking of an opening door was heard from behind the two.
"Your Majesty!" An elderly and jolly voice was heard from the doorway. The evil pair turned to look over and saw that it was the castle's butler: Sterling, a grey-coated and bald Earth pony whose cutie mark was a neatly folded napkin. The old stallion was smiling, eyes sparkling in joy as he took in the sight of his beloved king.
Inviting himself inside, the butler pranced in with a serving cart of silver. "Pardon my intrusion," He said, sounding genuinley sorry. "But I thought you could use a nice cup of afternoon coffee this fine afternoon!"
Though it wasn't visible, Sauron's eyes twitched as he growled at the butler. "Unless it's evil coffee, I'm not interested! So tell me, Sterling, is it evil-flavoured coffee?"
The butler blinked, not understanding why his dear king would want something like that, but catered to it nonetheless. "Um, no but it's darkly roasted. That's kind of evil."
"Meh. It's a start."
Before Sauron could as much as grab a cup of the (admittedly delicious) coffee, the somewhat calm atmosphere was completely shattered as a captain of the royal guard, a pegasus by the name of Silverwing ran in through the door, looking panicked as he ran up to Sauron.
"My king!" He exclaimed. "Thank goodness I found you, it's a disaster! An unknown creature of some sort has breached the gate and is getting closer to the throne room as we speak"
Sauron raised a brow underneath his helm, somewhat interested. Perhaps he would get to kill something today after all? "What manner of creature, captain?"
The pegasus shook his head helplessly. "I-I don't know how to describe it, my king! It stood on two legs, much like yourself! I would say it looked like a hairless monkey, if not for its great beard and the fact that it wore a pointy hat and long, shabby robes, all completely grey in colour!"
Sauron felt his small spark of excitement quickly dying, thinking little of the captain's ramblings.
"What the devil are you blathering abo-" Before he could go on a rant of the pegasus' stupidity, the dark lord's felt the words die on his tounge as a realization struck him, making him feel as if blood turned to ice in his veins. There was only one infernal being he knew who could fit the description he had just been given.
Oh no...
"It's true, your Majesty!" Silverwing pleaded, not noticing the way his king had tensed up. "It showed up at the gate demanding to see you, armed with nothing but a big stick!"
For the love of Melkor, no, not him!
"W-We told him he had to fill out a standard form to have an appointment with you, but then he just started to bonk our heads with the stick and then he just waltzed in!"
There was a brief silent in the room. The Witch-King, who at this point had also started to guess who this creature was, looked warily at his master, feeling a great sense of tredipation within.
Sauron eventually spoke, his voice deadly and eerile calm. "... Where is this creature now?"
"He should be closing in on the throne room, my king!"
"Right," said Sauron, a sense of determination starting to spark in his chest. He turned towards the other two of the room's occupants, ordering them like a pro. "Mûrazôr, you gather the Nazgûl! Sterling, go cower in a corner somewhere!"
"Way ahead of you, your Majesty!" Said the royal butler from inside the barrel he had already hidden himself in at the first sign of conflict.
A little less than a minute later, Sauron, the Nine and the handful of remaining guardsmen were all gathered in the great hall, nervously awaiting the strange intruder.
"Alright," Sauron was talking down to one of the pony commanders now, his tone filled with a quiet, yet seething rage that steadily grew in tone and hate for every word spoken. "You explain to me right now how an old man with a stick managed to outmanouvre Canterlot's ENTIRE military defense!"
"B-But sire," The poor stallion choked out in pleading, begging for his king to understand. "It was a REALLY big stick!"
"Urgh, you're useless!" Sauron growled, pointing down at the pony with a special sort of loathing. "Your parents should have made a sandwich instead of making you!"
Knowing that he had failed his beloved king, the commander shrank back, whining and looking a lot like a kicked puppy.
Not wanting to spare the pathetic fool another glance, Sauron turned to his Nazgûl who listened attentively. "Alright, listen up, if this intruder is who I think it is, and even if its not, then he will quickly find that he is too late to steal my rightful possessions away from my grasp!"
There were silent nods of agreements from the Nine, and Sauron actually managed to quirk his lips up into the faintest of smiles, thinking that no one could stand against both him and his deadliest servants. Of course, the smile died just as fast when a very familiar and VERY hated voice was heard from behind him.
"A wizard is never late, Mairon, nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to!"
Sauron turned around slowly, silently praying to Melkor that it wasn't who he thought it was. Of course, he was disappointed as soon as he had fully turned and now stood face to face with the castle's intruder. For there in the entry, leaning on a wooden staff, dressed in worn grey robes and a pointed hat, his beard long and blue eyes glinting, was none other than Gandalf the Grey.
"YOU!" Sauron roared like a mad bull in absolute fury, pointing a shaking, accusatory finger at the wizard.
"Me!" Gandalf called back cheerfully, as one would greet an old friend, all the while casually strolling into the hall, smiling jovially despite the death glare Sauron was sending him. The apparent familiarity between the two maiar was enough to spark confusion amongst the present ponies.
"King Sauron," Said one of the guards, hesitantly approaching his king while gesturing a hoof over at the wizard. "You know this creature?"
Sauron sighed long and hard. "Unfortunatley..." Though not visible because of his great helm, the dark lord's eyes, whose colour were like that of burning gold, glared over at the wizard with eons of contempt shining through. "Last I saw you were robed in white, Gandalf."
He had meant it as an insult, that the wizard had been sent to Equestria without his new, precious rank and the white swag that came with it. But, since Sauron could apparently never have anything nice, Gandalf simply shrugged, blue eyes glinting mischieviously as he answered, "I liked grey better."
Patience was decidedly not one of Sauron's virtues, it was one of the main reasons he had always despised Olórin and his galavant ways. Thinking there was no need to beat around the bush, he asked, "The Valar sent you here, didn't they?"
"Of course!" Gandalf answered. "When they learned you had used fanfiction-convenience to fling yourself and your most deadly servants to a new world they were understandably weary. It was Manwë's and Aulë's idea that someone should come and check up on you."
Sauron snarled. "I can take care of myself, thank you!"
Gandalf raised a single, bushy and sceptical brow. "Need I remind you what happened when you were left to your own devices on Númenor?"
Sauron threw his hands in the air, huffing. "Oh my god, you cause the downfall of a great civilization ONE TIME and suddenly you're marked for life! Quit living in the past!"
Seemingly exasperated, Gandalf shook his head. "Nonetheless, I was sent here to be your jailor, in a sense. I must admit, I did not expect your takeover to go over so smoothly and bloodless." A smile suddenly appeared on the wizard's lips, and Sauron did NOT like it. "Also, it was beyond the imagination of even the Valar that you would be taken to a world that is so, how you say, adorable and ridiculous."
Hands clenched into fists, Sauron was now seething as the all too familiar sting of humiliation flushed through him. "Oh, you have no idea, wizard." Sauron's words were quiet and deadly, his glare one that would send lesser men bawling to their mothers. "Much like Melkor before me, I shall begin my dark and terrible reign in this once so merry world, imbuing my essence and hate into all aspects of its existence until the whole world has been twisted into my evil image! All shall-"
"My good ponies!" Gandalf suddenly adressed the onlookers, pointedly ignoring Sauron's daily evil rant. "Have you been feeling opressed in anyway since Sauron took the throne?"
The ponies all looked afronted at the mere sugestions, before they eagerly and passionatly came to their king's defense, announcing that he was a fair and gracious ruler who had brough in a new age of peace of prosperity to their lands.
"King Sauron is the kindest of all!"
"A true and righteous creature who has united us!"
"There is no ruler as gentle or noble as Sauron!"
"Anypony seen my glasses?"
Sauron's face flushed beneath his helm while Gandalf simply laughed fondly. "'Dark and terrible', indeed!" Once he was done, Gandalf turned to regard Sauron with an almost disappointed look. "Honestly, Mairon. I thought you would've grown out of this whole 'dark lord' thing after the First Age."
"IT'S NOT A PHASE, OLÓRIN!" Sauron screamed in a way that, while dark and menacing enough to shake the very castle, seemed almost petulant. The fallen Maia was so done with beings treating his true calling like one would a human teenager's emo-phase.
Furthermore, hearing the name he had once been known by, brought up a sense of deep bitterness within the dark lord, though he tried to play it off through venomous words. "And it's not 'Mairon', remember? I am Sauron now, dark lord of-"
"Yes yes, King of Kings and all that." Gandalf waved a dismissive hand, making Sauron sputter. Instead of awe or fear, the wizard just seemed done with him, judging by the expression Sauron was currently on the recieving end of. "That's, like, what, five names now? I mean with all the Annatar, Gorthaur, Zigûr and Sauron, it gets hard for an old man to keep track!"
Oh, we both know you're no mere old man, Olórin...
Sauron's thoughts were dark and hateful. However, he was stopped from further insulting his fellow Maia when Gandalf fixed him with a gaze and expression that made Sauron freeze in place. It wasn't a look of vengeance, anger or fear, Sauron had been on the recieving end of many of those sorts of looks throughout the ages and took to them like a fish to water.
No, Gandalf's gaze was not one of hatred or even indifference, but one of what appeared to be genuine regret, nostalgia and... was that pity? The wizard spoke, and Sauron percieved that he smiled. "But no matter what others may call you, I will always prefer the name Lord Aulë gave you.... And I think you do as well, deep down."
For a moment Sauron was simply silent, not sure how he should respond to such a claim. Taking advantage of this pause of the shouting match between the Maiar, Silverwing was the one who broke the silence, him and his fellow ponies having only grown more curious for every word exchanged between the two bipeds.
"Why did you change your name, your Majesty?" He asked his king, said question seeming to snap Sauron out of whatever trance Gandalf's pity had trapped him in.
Sauron grumbled as he crossed his arms and pouted. "I didn't change my name... It was those damn Elves!"
The dungeons of Angband, 275th year of the First Age
"YES! Cower before me, you worthless slugs!" Mairon belowed, gleefully watching the many prisoners and victims of his and his master's viscious torture cowering away in fear of his mere presence. "Let it be known that your torment came at the hands of Tar-Mairon, Black Lieutenant of Melkor!"
At that moment, one particular smartass elf by the name of Celebrond snorted and turned to his fellow prisoners. "Heh, 'Mairon'? More like SAURON, amirite lads!?"
There was a brief moment of silence before the dungeons of Angband were filled with the upracious laughter of elves, the previously opressed prisoners now pointing and laughing at their opressor. While the few Men in the chamber didn't understand the sindarin worldplay at all, Mairon did and was currently seething, his golden eyes burning in rage as he watched Celebrond exchange high-fives with his elf-bros.
"That does it!" He roared, spitting as he did so before pointing a single, accusatory finger at the elf who had insulted him. "Just for that, you're spending the next five days in the chamber of fire!"
"Aw man!" Celebrond groaned as a pair of orcs carried him off, the elf appearing more annoyed than horrified at the prospect of his upcoming torture. Mairon watched the process in satisfaction, though his anger still lingered at the injustice that had been delt upon him. The fallen Maia was practically frothing at his mouth, the fires of hate burning in his eyes.
Seeing its master's discomfort, one brave (or stupid) orc timidly walked up to the Black Lieutenant and offered its sympathies as best it could.
"There there, Master." It said, patting his arm in a tender and comforting manner. Though its voice was screechy and rough, the words were gentle. "I'm sure it won't catch on."
For a moment there was only silence, Mairon simply staring at the orc with an unreadable expression. Then, without any warning, he backhanded the orc into the ground.
"Don't touch me, idiot."
"But the orc was wrong! It DID catch on!" Sauron was shouting now, having all eyes in the hall, both wizard, Nazgûl and ponies' gazes fixed on him. "Mairon is no more! He died the moment Melkor introduced Sauron to a greater purpose and power, leading him out from the darkness of Mairon's mind and into the world! And thank all the powers he did, or I would have remained a glorified thrall to the Valar in the Undying Lands like yourself, Olórin!"
Gandalf huffed, placing a free hand on his hip. "Come now, it wasn't all bad." The wizard smiled, an air of nostalgia washing over him as he recalled one of his few fond memories of himself and Sauron before the latter's fall. "Remember the time you and I got drunk off our asses and crashed Fëanor's car?"
Sauron was silent for a bit, taken a back by the sudden refrence. Though he remembered that time quite well, and in doing so he could actually feel some of his rage fade. Though Sauron's smile wasn't visible underneath his helm, one could easily hear the smile in his voice as he spoke, "Yes, that was... admittedly pretty funny. We told him it was the Teleri, didn't we?"
"He never forgave them for it, espescially during the kinslaying!" Gandalf had now thrown his head back as he laughed, and Sauron actually joined him, actually chuckling for non-nefarious reasons for the first time in millenia. He suddenly stopped, however, quickly realizing what the wizard must be doing.
"NO!" Sauron roared, putting an end to the laughter and filling the hall with silence once more. He angrily pointed at the other Maia, once again shaking in anger. "I will NOT fall for your hippie-flower-power-bullcrap, Olórin! I am super serious and super evil, not some chum you can smoke weed with like those hobbitus o-or hobos or whatever the Hell they're called!"
Instead of the either angry or frustrated response Sauron expected, Gandalf simply looked sad at Sauron's words. When he spoke, his words were gentle and soft, all tinted with an unknown, deeper sorrow. "No one is evil in the begining, Mairon, even Morgoth was not so. And I, as well as the Valar, know that you were not always beyond hope and redemption, even if you like to imagine otherwise."
Sauron scoffed, crossing his arms. "Ridiculous!"
"It's true!" Gandalf exclaimed, slamming the foot of his staff into the marble floor for extra emphasis. He glared at Sauron first to no effect. Then, the wizard smiled while his eyes glinted in that same way Sauron hated.
"In fact," He said, looking far too amused for Sauron's liking. "I know for certain that after Morgoth's downfall at the end of the First Age, you bent to your knees and paid obeisance to Eönwë, all while crying like a little baby."
"SHUT UP!" Sauron shrieked, shaking his head while panicking on the inside that the wizard knew of his great shame. Turning to the Nazgûl and ponies, he desperatly tried to do some damage control of his evil image. "Th-That's not true! That never happened!"
Gandalf just chuckled. "It was very funny. Eönwë still talks about it!" Apparently thinking he had embarrassed the dark lord enough for the moment, his tone grew more serious, though he still smiled. "However, in addition to crying like a little bitch, you appeared sincere in your desire to repent for your evil deeds back then, if only unwilling to surrender yourself to the judgement of the Valar."
"Wait a minute..." One of the pony guards spoke up, his expression troubled as he glanced between Sauron and Gandalf. "A-Are you saying that King Sauron was... mean?"
YES!
Sauron actually started to grin, thinking that at last these blasted ponies had understood that he was dark and terrible. "Indeed!" He bellowed, clenching an outstretched hand into a powerful fist while his tone took on a tone of dark amusement and gloating. "For I was once lieutenant and greatest servant of Melkor, he who brought darkness into Arda! I led orcs, werewolves and other abominations against his and my enemies!"
Once again there was a brief silence which Sauron now reveled in, thinking his grandiose confession of his great evil had made the right impression on the ponies this time and he would soon have them fearfully worshipping his devilish might!
But, as history had so often proved, Sauron couldn't have nice things.
"How touching!" Exclaimed the same pegasus commander Sauron had verbally abused earlier, who now looked at his king with absolute adoration as thick streams of ears poured out of his large eyes. "Sauron was once wicked but, like the grey monkey said, he repented, showing no shame in weeping like a little bitch for he wanted to confess his crimes! Much like princess Luna, he shows that we are not defined by out past and that we can move on and become better ponies!"
Much to Sauron's horror and Gandalf's silent delight, the other ponies seemed to agree with their colleague.
Not even hesitating, the stallion then ran up and wrapped his forearms around Sauron, who became stiff at the touch. Though he cried, the pegasus smiled in joy as he gazed up at the fallen Maia in admiration. "I shamefully admit I had my doubts about you but now, my dear King Sauron, I can only say that you are inspiring!"
"Wha- You- He...." Sauron sputtered, finding it hard to articulate just how asinine that whole line of thinking truly was. Instead of ranting for hours, Sauron summed up his frustration and objections in a very simple but very heartfelt; "No!"
The pegasus did not listen, letting go of Sauron and looking almost as if in a trance as he continued. "In fact, I'm going to run out there in the street and cry to the heavens of what I have heard here today!"
Sauron shook his head fiercly. "No."
"Of how you are a truly honest soul-"
"No!"
"- a being who truly tried to be better-"
"NO!"
"-and a king worthy of our everlasting love and admiration!"
"NO!"
The pegasus then turned to look up at the wizard, looking nearly equally grateful. "You have opened my eyes to our king's greatness, grey monkey! If it's not too much to ask, may I be so bold as to ask your name?"
Gandalf didn't sneer or scoff, but he smiled and chuckled at the remarkably innocent being before him. "None at all, my dear pony. However, please refrain from calling me a monkey for that I am not. I am Gandalf and Gandalf means me!" Placing a hand on his hip, the wizard turned to look at Sauron and smirked. "I am an old friend of your king. He and I go waaay back."
The ponies all gasped. "A friend of good King Sauron? How delightful!"
It took every last bit of Sauron's self-control to not throw up at being called a friend of Olórin's.
"Well, what are you waiting for, Dagor Dagorath?" Said Gandalf in a stern tone, though there was clear delight in his eyes. "Go out there and spread the word of your merciful, repentant king and his good friend Gandalf the Grey!"
"Yes, sir!" The guards all saluted with wide smiles before they swiftly exited the great hall to spread the good word.
Sauron then managed to fully regain his wits, and tried desperatley to do some damage control. "Wha- NO!" He roared, futiley attempting to stop his subjects from spreading such horrid falsehoods. "GET BACK HERE AND FEAR ME, YOU STUPID HORSES!"
Of course, none heard him.
"Well, that went well!" Gandalf exclaimed cheerfully after a bit of silence, looking awfully proud of himself.
"Olórin!" Sauron spat hatefully, the humiliation burning strong.
"Yes, that is my name. How nice of you to remember!" The wizard's words were airy and obnoxiously friendly. Then, without any sort of warning, he began to trudge further into the castle. "Also, since you so clearly need me, I shall move in immediately!"
Sauron felt his jaw go slack, the overwhelming stupidity of recent events having finally short-circuited his usually wicked and intelligent mind.
The Witch-King's, however, still worked fine. He placed himself infront of the wizard, holding his sword aloft as it burned into flame while he charged up a wicked spell. "You will NOT enter my master's abode, Greybeard!"
Gandalf was not impressed, his lips thinning and his nose scrunching up as if he had smelt somthing foul. "Don't you have a woman to kick your accursed númenórean buttocks on a technicality somewhere?"
The greatest of the Nine gasped, a hand flying to his chest as the words rang in his head, reminding him of his great failure. Without further ado, Er-Mûrazôr, former prince of Númenor and current Witch-King of Angmar, burst into hysterical tears and fled the room. He would then retire to his own chambers were he would spend the rest of the day sitting in his couch, watching Rom-Coms on Netflix and consuming copious amounts of ice cream.
Letting out a huff of satisfaction, Gandalf then turned towards the other eight Nazgûl with a raised brow. "Anyone else care to test me?"
The other eight of the Nine were silent, shuffling akwardly and looking amongst themselves. There was a silent agreement between them, and then Khamûl the Black Easterling, second greatest of the Nine, decided to speak for all of them:
"No fam, we're good."
Without further ado, they all swiftly hurried out of the great hall and after the Witch-King to join him on the couch.
With that taken care off, Gandalf easily walked up to Sauron, who still hadn't moved a muscle in complete and utter shock. Underneath his helm, the fallen Maia was gaping like a fish out of water. Instead of fearing him, Gandalf smiled warmly and patted the dark lord on the shoulder. "I look forward to see how you will serve the realm of Equestria, my dear Mairon."
Afterwards the wizard simply walked passed Sauron and made his way towards one of the hallways where he intended to search for an adequate lodging. However, before he disappeared, he turned around and gave the numb Sauron both a mischievious smile and an ominous piece of advice:
"But remember that it's true what the dwarves of Erebor say: Payback is a bitch."
Author's Note
"My liege!"
"WHAT!?"
"Númenórean forces have been spotted on our borders! Just thought I should let you know!"
"KNOCK on my door! KNOCK next time!"
"Yes, Master! My apologies!"
"... Did you see anything?"
"No Master, I didn't see you playing with your dolls again."
"Good!"
- The Witch-King and Sauron, Barard-dûr S.A 1683
