Author's Note: And so it begins. I hope this story will prove to have been worth the wait.

Disclaimer: I do not own.


Prologue

Without name, without substance, houseless, friendless, timeless, worthless, homeless, and accursed, the dark cloud was pulled between the hills by the ever whimsical wind, and the cloud hated it.

Hated it.

Hated everything.

Hated and hated.

Beyond the point of reason, or endurance-beyond the point pain and its own comprehension it hated still. Hate was all it had when it wasn't wracked by pain and longing for things it couldn't understand.

This was its lot in life after a series of choices. After caring so much it had ruined its own life, fallen from the greatest height into the darkest depths to build, to organize, to save-this was the price of compassion. This was the payment owed for having cared in the first place.

He was villain, the Great Evil, and he didn't know why, only that that had been how they'd looked to him. And he hated them all for it, every last one of them. But he couldn't even remember who they were anymore, only that they were not him, and they had never deserved his care in the first place.

Then the hatred gave way as it was wont to do. It was a great reason to live, when nothing else of value remained, but it burned out eventually when the cloud no longer had the energy to sustain its fury and loathing.

The pain returned then, slow burning and ruthless. Belligerent and agonizing it welled up from some unknown depth until the cloud was drowning in its own darkness. It didn't understand why or how. It couldn't. It didn't want to.

A voice, vaporous and thin begged and pleaded for an end, but the cruel world heard him naught. It never had. It had forsaken him long before he'd known the wisdom in forsaking it. By the time he'd figured it out it was too late, and he'd lost everything, save for the one thing he had never wanted: the name that festered in the back of his mind oozing filth that seeped into crevice of his being and cloaked him in his failure.

Sauron.

More than anything else he hated that name and yet it was all the remained of him. All that had been was tied to that name, and that name to him, but still he rebuked it, shied away from it, and denied it and its hideousness. Embracing it meant admitting he was exactly what it claimed him to be. He was not that. Never that. It was abhorrent.

There had to be other names- other reasons, other identities that were better. There had to be. He was almost positive there had been. Sometimes when insanity wasn't wracking his mind like the horrid tremors that tore his smoky essence, when anguish indescribable wasn't tearing him apart he could see fleeting pictures and hear far off voices. In those rare moments of quiet he could almost remember. He could feel those names squirming in the recesses of his mind.

But true recollection he feared as much as he feared the emptiness of his broken memory. Through that understanding laid a risk of far greater pain what he already suffered. And he had experienced far too much already.

'Please.' His voice was snatched by the cruel breeze tugging him over the grass. 'No more.'

Only the sound of the zephyr teasing at his formless spirit answered him.


For those who are familiar with my Q&A I will be continuing that here.

The rules are a bit different. You can ask as many questions as you want. They'll be posted at the end of the next chapter I put up.

Questions deemed too spoilery will not be posted, though if you beg, plead, and grovel I might answer them in a private PM.