Battle of Dagorlad

The Elves and Men were on their way. In his tower high above Mordor, Sauron stood looking out over his lands. A sigh escaped his lips. Couldn't they see that he was trying to help them? Simply because he shared a name with the fallen Maia, they believed him to be the same. What no one knew was that the Sauron who had served Morgoth once upon a time had fallen to his blade several years earlier. In the lore of their people Sauron did not translate the same as it did for other folks. While the servant of Morgoth once know as Mairon had been given the name as it meant 'the Abhorred' by the Elves. The name among his people meant 'Great Flames'.

Long had his people offered a haven for the forgotten folks – shadow or dark elves and humans who had been driven away from their homes. They had all joined with his people, the Shrāl, over the years.

A happy gurgle sounded from behind the man where he stood by the window. A small smile spread over his lips. "Hush Haryn," he said softly as he walked over to the wooden crib that held the baby. He reached down and picked the boy up. Bright green eyes looked up at him.

"Dada, dada hungy," the boy babbled.

His father chuckled softly. "Ah, is that so, bérren-ka," he said. "Well, I guess we can fix that." He carried his son over to a small table which held an assortment of food. Picking up a bottle of goat milk, he warmed the contents with a thought. "Here little one," he said as he offered the warm drink to the raven-haired child. The boy reached out with his small scaled hands to grab the bottle. Moving the bottle to his mouth, he drank the milk down greedily.

Slowly Sauron walked back to his spot by the window. He knew that he'd have to go out there. There was no way the Forgotten Ones would be able to handle this on their own. He looked down at his little boy. 'For my son and my people's safety, I'll have to fight,' he thought. "Do not fear my child," he told the boy. "I will return to you." He had walked back over to the crib and placed little Haryn down. Big green eyes followed him as he clad himself in his armour. Once down he stroked his son's unruly hair one last time before leaving the room.

He was heading out into battle.

…

"Dada… dada," little Haryn cried, but his father did not appear. Harsh screams tore through the halls of Barad-dûr.

Down on the ground a dark-haired man with fiery eyes stopped dead in his tracks. 'Please Haryn, I will be back calm yourself my son,' he thought sadly. He didn't like abandoning his little bérren, but it was necessary for now. He lifted his helmet fitting it over his horns that went curved into the air with a second smaller pair going down behind his head. "Move out!" he roared to his brethren. They would join the battle below. A battle between the armies of elves and men and his own troops among the Forgotten Ones. What he didn't realise was that not all came with him.

A single Shrāl stayed behind hidden in the shadows. His amber eyes glared at his King. How he despised the man – his brother. Once the troops had left, he made his way up the stairs of Barad-dûr in haste. If he was to gain control, his first objective was to get rid of Sauron's spawn.

He sneered down at the sleeping boy once he'd reached his brother's bedroom. The child had cried himself to sleep. "Disgusting," the man hissed hate filling his voice. Lifting one of his hands, he summoned a blade. An insane grin spread over his face as he aimed the dagger at the boy's heart and drove it downwards.

Darkness flooded the room.

More than a mile away on the field of battle Sauron reached up and clutched his chest. "Haryn," he breathed. The connection he had with his son had faded suddenly. He turned around cutting an elf down in the process. He had to get back to Barad-dûr. He moved forward until suddenly a man appeared before him.

"Brother, brother… humans sneaked through our defences. They made their way into Barad-dûr and…" Haxoru's voice clogged. "…and they found Haryn. I went after them but when I got there… it was too late. Haryn-ka is gone. They killed him."

Sauron froze. Tears made their way into his eyes. A roar of agony filled the air. He didn't care about the peace and understanding that he'd been working for. They had killed his baby. They would die. Clutching his mace tighter, he marched into the thick of battle. As he no longer cared what happened to him, he was now a terrifying force to witness.

Men and Elves fell to his blows.

In the background a single Shrāl stood with a satisfied smirk on his lips. At this rate his brother would kill himself, and then HE would be the ruler of their people. He watched in glee as his cursed brother lost the mighty ring of power to a broken blade. He knew that losing the ring alone would not be enough to rid him of the man, however, and so he threw a poisoned blade to his King's unguarded back. He smirked as his Illusions made the foolish humans and elves see the armoured beast of a man he'd made his brother look like explode. Now he just needed to get the ring. He looked over at his brother's body. 'Don't you dare take that you little…' He looked down at his chest. A long slightly curved blade was pointing out of his abdomen. 'This was not how it was supposed to go,' he thought as the blade twisted and left his body as it left him gravity overtook him, and his body collapsed. He roared in anger. He was not going to end there. He would show them all. He would crush them – destroy them – make them despair…