Disclaimer: I don't own Lord of the Rings. I just borrow the characters and return them fairly normal.
Ok. I honestly don't thing Sauron is stupid enough to put his life force into the Ring so if it is destroyed so is he. So I wrote this little story. This takes place after the Ring is destroyed.
The End of All Things
Chapter 1: Defeat
A growl resonated from his chest as he looked down at his hands. Long, thin, and pale, they were obviously the hands of an elf. He brought one of those hands up to his right ear and felt the tip. Pointed, much as he had suspected. The Valar were playing a very cruel trick on him today.
Sighing deeply he looked out over the land he had once reluctantly called home. After his master had been defeated he had searched the land looking for a place to call home, a place to rule from, for he was sure he could fill the role of his master well. He had eventually found this place. At one time it had been a part of the plains that still surrounded some of it. That was before he had ripped the mountains from the bones of the earth as protection. But now all he had achieved was in ruins laying before him, destroyed by something he himself had created. The surge of power had leveled his beautiful tower and had destroyed the gates to his domain. He looked toward the stronghold of his general, who was now a week dead, and wondered if it too had been phased by the blast. Amon Amarth oozed lava in the distance and half of it looked to have been blasted off.
It was a mere hour after the blast and he was getting frustrated. At the blast his troops had scattered. Some still roamed the land nearby but they ran from each other, thinking the everyone but the few in their groups were enemies. The stupider ones, wanting leadership of the group, had killed the few smart ones that he had found and appointed captains.
A shriek sounded overhead and he looked up quickly, his heart jumping for a second before sinking further than it had been before. Overhead a eagle circled twice before flying back to the northwest, where his gates had once stood. He fell to his knees in frustration and hit the ground with his fists. Dust puffed up into his face and he had to blink a few times to get it out of his eyes. He wasn't used to his elven body yet. He looked back towards the gate a minute or two later and saw a group of people coming his way. Realizing it was futile to run, as he was on foot and they had horses, he stood and waited. He might be able to get one of the horses if he needed. It would take days to get around the mountains otherwise and he didn't feeling like speaking with Ungoliant's last child.
The company that came upon him was strange. It consisted of a elf and dwarf sharing a horse and two humans. The elf looked to be young for his kind and had long blond hair and blue eyes. The dwarf had reddish-brown hair and a beard that fell almost to his waist. A battle-axe was strapped to his back. The humans both had brown hair but the older one had gray eyes and the younger one had dark blue eyes.
The elf jumped off his horse, nearly upsetting the dwarf who muttered something about elves under his breath, and ran to him.
"Are you well? You look like you've been to the void and back." He supposed he did with the battered black robed he had acquired after he had had to pull himself out from under some rubble, and his black hair matted as it hung almost to his waist. It was the for he had taken before his temple had been destroyed.
'No' was all he managed to get out before he doubled over coughing. He couldn't remember the last time he had needed to talk aloud and his throat hurt. After the coughing stopped he realized that the elf was at his side and holding out a canteen. He thankfully took a drink and tried again. "No, I am fine. I just wonder how I got out of the tower." He surveyed the group again and realized that the elder human was the heir of Isildur. The dark haired elf smirked to himself.
"If you would like you could come with us back to Minas Tirith and recover there. Once fully healed you could find your people again," the heir of Isildur said and he saw the elf nod and realized he might have a tag-along when he left.
"I would be honored to stay in Minas Tirith but sadly all of my people were captured by the Dark Lord," he said hoping to stave the elf's curiosity.
The two humans conversed briefly and soon the younger of the two was riding of towards the gates. The remaining one said, "He is going to get you a horse as you seem well enough to ride." the human smiled and continued, "I suppose you are wondering who we are. The man who just left is Faramir, son of Denethor, the elf is Legolas, son of Thrainduil, and the dwarf is Gimli, son of Gloin. I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn." Aragorn quickly looked over his shoulder at his companions.
"I am Umarth, son of Meaglin. It is nice to meet you." Just as he introduced himself Faramir rode up with a horse.
"I believe we should leave. The men are getting restless, they don't like being near this deathtrap.
Faramir handed the black haired elf the reigns and watched as he mounted. The party turned and left with Aragorn leading the group.
Unwittingly the four friends escorted Sauron, Dark Lord of Mordor, Enemy of the free people of Middle-Earth, through his ruined gates and out onto the plains.