Disclaimers: I do not own The Lord of the Rings. J.R.R. Tolkien does.
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Sauron was now a spirit. Though he couldn't take physical form, he was concocting a plan to get back at the hobbits who destroyed his ring. And not just one hobbit. No! He would take his revenge on all the hobbits in the Shire and Bree-land! Hahaha! Yes, it was a brilliant plan. All he needed was a mortal who could help him create these rings. And he found it with his group of orcs.
They built their own forge with his powers. The flames ensued, billowing with ever present screams! Yes! Now for the crafting of the gold rings. Yes, he issued his powers into the rings. He could only put enough energy into the rings to immobilize the hobbits and let them do his bidding. Yes! They were done! Now to give them to the hobbits. Those filthy hobbits would get what was coming to them. The forests of the Shire was deep and dark, filled to the brim with pine trees. Oh look. There was Bag End. Now the story could begin….
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Bag End was peaceful and quiet. From cushioned chairs by the fire, to ledges with bedding, to the many rooms and study that accompanied the luxurious home. Frodo Baggins knew this was right, even as the fire burned in the fireplace. And there was something that dinged in the flames. Out popped a gold ring, landing on his lap.
"What the—" He was tempted to put on the ring, but he mustn't – he couldn't – his spirit was too tempted. He put on the ring and felt strange. Like his mind going blank and Sauron's eye breathing down his neck.
He was outside with all the other hobbits, dancing to a strange tune. This was Sauron's doing. It had to be him. His spirit was out there, too, taking the lead. The hobbits… they were all wearing gold rings, even his best friend Samwise Gamgee wore one. No! How could this happen? The grass was green and the mallorn tree sprouting. But – but – NO!
"NOOOOO!" Frodo could hear himself scream. There was nothing he could do. He tried taking the ring off his hand, but he couldn't reach it. At last the spell wore off the moment he took the ring off. He sank to the ground, as did other hobbits who managed to take off their rings. He felt so dazed, so out of his mind. He turned his attention to the ring. It burned, it burned! He dropped it on the ground. It disappeared into the soil, as did other rings.
"What was that?" he asked, collapsing on the ground into a deep slumber. His spirit had already taken its toll. "No more magic. No more dark tricks." He could hear himself say. It was time to sleep now. It was time to fall asleep now, back into the abyssal of dreams, where none dare touch him.
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Sauron cackled in triumph, stealing all the rings from the ground and snatching them off the hobbits' hands. At last, he won! Now the hobbits would go to sleep and he would pitch these new rings back into the forge where he created them. He never flew so fast before, back into the forest and pitching all the rings into the flames. The flames sparked, igniting without cause. He did it! He destroyed his own rings! Wait. What the – why did he do that? Had he gone mad? The answer was yes, he'd gone mad. Now what could he do?
"Where are you, Aragorn? I'm going to haunt you now!" He said, flying off into the distance. And he did scare the newly appointed King of Gondor and made peace with himself thereafter. Somehow, it was good to be the dead Dark Lord of Mordor. The possibilities were endless, and he found his after all the trouble of witnessing his downfall. Yes, it was a good day to be a dark lord, no matter what the causes could come upon him now. He was good to the bitter end, wherever evil may lie.
And that is how the Dark Lord got his day off and ensued his own tricks upon the Free Peoples of Middle-earth.
The End.
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Thanks for reading. :)
