Author's notes:
About the names, if you got confused at any point – I should have put it before, but I forgot:
Curunír is the Quenya name of Saruman. Ólorin is the Quenya name of Gandalf.
Melkor or Morgoth was the Valar whom Sauron served before he became the Dark Lord.
Mairon was the name of Sauron, before his corruption. He has many names, actually (they all do, it seems).
The Chains of Grief
He was dreaming, a very good and comfortable dream, although he couldn't quite pinpoint how or why it was good. There was a voice that told him things, and he could never remember the words, but he knew he had to obey.
There was another voice, too, but that one was being kept away, like all other unimportant things – all he needed to hear was the voice that did him good, not the angry, agitated voice that was trying to pull him out of that wonderful dream.
[That sly and insidious Maia...]
It was like floating in a river of placid waters. He wanted nothing more than that peace, although something nagged at the back of his mind as if he was forgetting something important...
[...shouldn't subdue him so easily, how he can be so weak when...?]
...or someone. A person? Was this what he was forgetting? No, no, it was more than one person, he knew... But. That song was so beautiful, who cares about anything else? No, he should concentrate on the voice, and the song, and forget everything else.
[You need to wake up!]
Should He? But... he didn't want to wake up. A little more. Just a little more in that good and beautiful dream...
"…and I will serve you with all my might for the rest of my life. I'll be your weapon, your shield, I'll do anything, no complaints, no questions, obedient to death...
[No! She is too valuable to be Saruman's! Wake up, now, Riki!]
"What is happening? Why am I walking? Where am I? Is that... Kana? What is she... Oh no! "
"No! Kana!"
The boy screams, in a moment of clarity, as he simultaneously grabs the orb, though he doesn't realize it until all there is pain and power. When he touches it, a shock runs through him, and within his veins, he feels something respond to the sphere.
It's fast and intense, a pain that seems to rip his own soul to shreds and remake it. There is something newwithin, but at the same time not exactly new. If it hadn't been so intrusive, so painful, so undeniably foreign to his body, he'd say this, whatever it was, should have been a puzzle piece falling neatly into place.
But it wasn't. As his screams erupted from his throat amid the pain, the tremors in his body intensified and the sheer torture he went through was felt in every cell of his being, even in his bones, he could only think it was more like a broken sword that someone insisted on not discarding and took advantage of the metal to forge a new one.
"That's exactly what you were doing, isn't it? Fusing a new blade, merging different materials?" – He thinks, with fear and anger, as he directs his thoughts to the voice he called The Eye.
[Oh, my dear, you're wrong - we were never made of different materials].
"What kind of madness do you expect from this?"
It was Riki Uchiha's last thought.
[Finally!]
When he is conscious enough again, he knows he will never be only Riki Uchiha again.
The first thing he notices is that someone is holding him. The second is that it's in free fall – and the person holding him makes sure he is below them. He barely has time to comprehend what is happening, except that that person is smiling at him through tears, willing to protect this fragile physical form.
And then they hit the ground and he sees the damage that is done to the person although he has seen brutality in his long life, this human's death bothers him far more than any other.
"Kana. She is my sister, not simply 'this human."
It's absurd. She wasn't really his sister, and certainly, she was simply 'the human', but then why can't he stop staring at what's left of the young woman with that... that... awful, weird feeling building up in him?
"The human." – He thinks stubbornly, even when he feels his breath fail and there is something very peculiar seeping into his face. Tears, he realizes with amazement.
Atop her body, staring stupidly at his tear-streaked hand, Sauron finds himself bewildered by the whole situation – her absurd sacrifice, his ridiculously small hands, the outrageous tears that kept leaking from his eyes, the incomprehensible and inconvenient thing he was feeling.
But then there is an enemy attack and his small body, reacts with sharp instincts, evading it. When he turns to face the one that attacked him, a wave of confusion and hurt washes over him because he sees Katsuo and it just doesn't make sense.
"IT'S YOUR FAULT!" – The boy screams and there is an unmistakable killer intent directed towards Sauron. A part of him scoffs at the boy's statement, sarcasm dripping as he thinks "yes, because I'm the one who made her protect me", but another part, the one that is quickly making him furious, just agrees with what the other Uchiha says.
He defends himself, and strange as it is to have a body in human form, his body is agile. It takes Sauron a short time to adjust his own movements in harmony with his current body, but when he does, satisfaction merges with surprise at how well he can do in a fight. He was never a stranger to power, even being a Maia with abilities superior to other beings, but in his clothes of flesh, he would never have surpassed the speed and strength this little one was capable of.
"Incredible. Those skills really are on another level."
The Maia increasingly tests his new talents, spurred on by the life-or-death situation, all the while thinking about how exactly he would stop the young boy he was facing.
"He would be helpful, but he's being so annoying. I have better things to do than play a duel with a brat. Should I just kill him?"
He staggers to his feet at the thought, horror quite poignant at the mere thought of killing the child in front of him, and this imbalance is all it takes for the other to have the opportunity to strike a very lethal attack. His instinctive reaction is to attack with more fire, and more lethality, and even as he unleashes his counterattack, a singular feeling of regret and dread hit him.
When the boy disappears before his eyes, along with that half-wolf, Sauron lets out a relieved breath.
"What. The. Fuck. Was. That?" – He thinks, stunned. And then he grits his teeth, confusion, and annoyance clouding his mind. It was a lot. It was all too much. Not only had he gotten a physical body; there was a huge sensory and emotional charge as well. Even when he dressed as an elf, or a serpent, or a wolf, he was always completely a Maia, despite his appearance. But now? Now he was also the very thing he was wearing.
"I am human." He concluded, a chill running through his veins as he opened his mouth, eyes wide. He's still a Maia, but somehow, he's also human. It doesn't make sense and at the same time, it's the only thing that makes sense.
And then he threw up. He looked away in disgust and wrinkled his nose at the offending substance, only to see the body of the woman who had died for him and that damn twinge appear again.
"Mnnn... There are some undesirable aspects of this new constitution."
Passing the back of his hand across his lips and straightening his back into an upright posture, he thinks:
"Tsk. Well then. Being human. How difficult can it be? Now, back to work."
He took a few steps, already thinking about his plans for Middle-earth, readjusting many things with his newly acquired knowledge of life as an Uchiha.
Sauron pauses at the name, an almost maddening urge to return to her body. For what purpose was beyond him, though the will grew stronger and stronger.
"She is dead. There is no point in going back."
He knows that there is some kind of ceremony for the dead, but he has never bothered with funeral ceremonies; only the Children of Eru would worry about such things. His servants would do the necessary cleaning.
"Yes, I must leave this to the orcs. It was never a problem before, why would it be now?" – He says it out loud, although it lacks the blasé air that should accompany the words.
Sauron took one step and another, all the while ignoring the heaviness in his heart and that stupid urge to approach Kana and cry senselessly.
"As if I would give in to such laughable behavior."
He was still The Craftsman of Middle-earth, the place abandoned by the Powers. It would not be mere irrational human instincts that would change that.
I can still feel her arms; a protective and warm blanket.
Haughty, he walks among the White Tower ruins and when he encounters a group of orcs, he orders them to retrieve any supplies and resources. No one dares to disobey, for all his servants recognize him and tremble, as they should.
But there was one servant he was quite displeased with. Considering all the other things he was displeased with at the moment, it was a very, very bad thing for the said insolent servant.
Around him, all the orcs in the vicinity drew back and sweated in fear as their master's aura darkened and smothered them in rage, none daring to look in the direction of the boy's face, whose eyes were like destructive fire.
And she smiled, knowing what would happen.
"Impossible." - It's Saruman's only thought, anxiety, and a bit of fear at what was before him. His body was completely immobilized as he recognized the underground room he was in, the rusty chains on the floor, and the room still with blood and other excrements. He is alarmed to realize that his own chains were made of shadows and magic, the technique he developed being used against him. But mostly he recognized the figure before him. It might have looked like an eight-year-old boy, but his eyes were unmistakable.
"Master." – He says submissively. He would fool just about anyone, that air of humility – but not enough to be ridiculous, a measure of respect – that could be mistaken for loyalty and awe – that used to mask disgust when he was in his Eye form. Sauron arched an eyebrow, amused at the thought that the other Maia really did think he had deceived him.
"Manipulation with docility has always been an asset of yours, Curunír. You should know, however, that it's harder to believe sweet words when your corrupted form is so visible. I would know, I've had this problem for millennia." – The Dark Lord grabs his face in his hand, examining him as if he were a horse before releasing him.
"Besides, Melkor was better and I spent too much time in his presence to recognize the signs. I always knew you would look for something to use against me, but I thought you were smart enough to make the attempt after the people of this world were under my rule."
"I… what…? Never did such a thing cross my mind, my Lord."
"Oh, stop it." – The boy waved his hand contemptuously. – "We both know that you value control as much as I value perfection, and that disposition of yours only became more pronounced when the 'Oh, so wise' Valar placed you as the pillar of the Istari in Middle-earth. I expected your betrayal, but I also expected you to have a more elaborate plan when you did. How disappointing. Mnnn... I wonder if Olórin would have been better than you when betraying me."
Sauron smiled seeing the fury in the other's eyes. He was sure that the istari would have tried to attack if he hadn't been chained with those energy suppressors - and what an ingenious bit of magic that technique was, Saruman had many redeeming qualities as an ally, though Sauron wouldn't admit it aloud. The "kid" sighed, shaking his head with paternalism.
"What a shame. I wasn't lying when I said you would be my right hand, you know. But you had to see exactly why I was so interested in the children, didn't you? And see where it took you." – He opened his arms, in a gesture that encompassed the entire imprisonment, with a mischievous smile growing as he saw the other's unease.
"If it's any consolation, I won't hurt you too much."
"This satisfaction I will grant to the children if they desire so." – He thinks absently while teaching Saruman his new place in their alliance.
She died for me and that shouldn't bother me.
The closest and logical place to relocate his forces was Helm's Deep. Now they were camping at Dol Baran, Sauron inside one of the tents, standing over the table that held a map. He hummed, tapping his fingers on the table thoughtfully.
"Occupying the fortress would be the step that would shake the morale of Rohan's people. Then I should dominate Gondor then eliminate any heirs Isildur has left. Angmar is in control of about 18,000 orcs, trolls, and men - which reminds me, I need to communicate with my Captain soon. Urgh. It was so much more practical in Eye form."
Sauron rubbed his temple, knowing he would spend a few hours drawing runes and reciting incantations to make a projection that would connect to his Nazgul in Angmar. Spying the next dot on the map, he read "Harad" and nodded in satisfaction.
"The Haradrim practically adore the ground I walk on and have been constant in providing military support for the last few ages. Maybe 15,000 men to make up the army? Sounds reasonable."
His fiery eyes hovered at the edge of the map.
"I suppose at least a thousand or two thousand from the land of Rhun and Khand..."
Sauron yawns, rubbing his eyes, and blinks in surprise at the sleepy feeling, slowly taking note of his tired body and mind.
"Oh. Right. The childish human body, how could I forget?" The Maia frowns and stubbornly decides that this body will just have to get used to working long hours. He would at least contact his Captain.
That's exactly what he does and only when the sun is about to rise does he toss the bed prepared for him, a fleeting thought that the human would scowl at if she saw how he would go to sleep without showering.
So why does It bother me?
It was a bad idea to exhaust his new body, Sauron realizes when he wakes up choking on his own sobs. Not long after, one of the orc guards guarding his tent enters, curious about that sound that comes from the weak. It is truly a wonder that Sauron has the Uchiha's reflexes as well as that human's paranoia fully instilled in him, for the orc barely enters and he throws the dagger under his pillow into the middle of the orc's skull, and he staggers out of his tent.
"What was this vile being thinking when he entered his master's chambers like this?"
He thinks furiously, getting to his feet and letting the familiar, dark hatred replace that other thing he was feeling when he woke up, after useless dreams of dead people who weren't his family.
But he knew – his servants would attack anyone who showed weakness and would definitely fail to obey him if he didn't prove himself as powerful and indestructible as ever.
"Kind of hard to look powerful and indestructible in a baby's skin."
But he needed to. He must find a way to keep those creatures of pure ugliness with an iron fist. "What a bother."
Although, if he was honest, that would be something he would be quite pleased with, seeing as he urgently needed to release his growing disgust at being part human. And what better than a good, familiar kill to resolve that particular frustration?
Rising with renewed vigor and brimming with killer intent, the Dark Lord throws back the sheets and leaves the tent; the silence around him is immediate. He effortlessly removes the dagger and looks around. There were still many orcs, but far fewer than there were at night. A hundred, maybe. Only the ones Saruman modified to withstand daylight. Nearby, however, only 20.
"The wizard said that you are better than other orcs because you can withstand daylight. Perhaps what Saruman said is affecting your poor intellect, if you think you can enter my chambers without permission." – The eyes turn to the dead orc on the ground, but Sauron sees that, amid the caution, he also lurks a hint of disrespect.
"Fuck. They definitely heard or smelled my crying."
"You." – He points vaguely in one direction, purposely not specifying how many he was referring to. They fidget and look at each other. – "Attack me."
There were only a few seconds of hesitation before they did exactly as they were told. With nothing but his dagger, Sauron waits for them to get close enough before using his newly acquired speed to finish them off in a matter of seconds.
It's not enough to assuage his own anger, but it's enough to make them wary. In the next few hours, that caution would be replaced by sheer fear – as it should be.
"That's it?" – He mocks. – "Tsc."
"If you want a job well done, do it yourself." – He thinks, in disgust and shouts an order.
"From here to there! Line up! From today on you will be trained. The rest of you, GET BACK TO WORK!"
Sauron watched as they hurried to follow his orders, eyeing the thirty he had chosen critically.
By the end of the day, none of his servants any longer doubted that his small form was as capable of imposing fear as his Eye form.
Why can't I stop thinking about your stupid sacrifice?
A routine was established over the next two weeks: in the morning, he mentored twenty of the orcs Saruman modified - the other ten had the misfortune to be in front of him when he was in a bad mood. In the afternoon, he would train his body, and then he would try to feel his Ring, which, day by day, came closer to him. At night, he reviewed his military strategies and contacted other allies through projection magic, received spy reports, and studied Saruman's scrolls or trained in the fuinjutsu the human had taught him.
As might be expected, some men used the path of Dol Baran, but Sauron had already ordered that anyone who found them must die. He hadn't actively sought to see what they did to the humans, caring little what methods his servants did as long as no one survived to leak the information from the small army camping in Dol Baran.
That is, he didn't care until he saw it happen. He was finishing the katas in the style of the Uchiha clan when he followed the commotion, the familiar screams, and the mocking laughter. Frowning, he followed the noise, wrinkling his nose at having to pass the vile creatures that served him - he didn't spend any more time than was strictly necessary, as he tended to feel quite nauseated by the orcs' appearance, odor, and manners.
It was a family of farmers, it seemed. Three men lay on the ground, beaten to death, one of them being eaten. The only one still alive, and trembling with fear, was the woman, in her thirties, whom he had a hunch was the eldest's wife.
He swallowed hard, knowing exactly why she was still alive if the lewd looks and the ripping off her clothes apart were any indication.
"Detestable things." – He thinks, with disgust at the sight of savagery. He had always thought that useful as they were, none of the creatures created by his Lord were a success. In fact these, abominations were something he would exterminate himself if he had the luxury.
"Stop. Leave her." – Sauron said. With his declaration, one of the orcs, confused, asks him:
"Are we going to replace the prisoners who were rescued?"
Sauron glares at him, bringing a hand to his chin. The orcs around him fell silent as they recognized the gesture – when he did, two things could happen: he could either be very pleased or very displeased.
"What prisoners?"
The orc who had spoken looked around nervously and swallowed hard with the focus of flaming eyes studying him. Head down, he replies:
"Saruman left some women in the underground. Their function was to generate orcs that could withstand the sun."
The woman gasped in horror.
"Absolutely detestable." – The "boy" thinks again, although his face remains impassive. He had seen the results of Saruman's modified orcs, but studying the process was not relevant to him, so it was the first time he knew how Saruman had achieved such an improvement.
"It's efficient, though." - Recognizes, seeing the evidence of those experiments. He squinted at the woman and imagined the face of Kana, even a slightly older Eiko, feeling his stomach flutter as he realized that Saruman might as well have just that in mind—test what kind of creature the Uchiha females could conceive, with that power coursing through their veins. In the past, he wouldn't dwell on it any longer than a simple "if it's working, don't interfere," but now he couldn't help but felt unease at the thought of allowing it.
"And they were rescued by whom?"
"We… we didn't see… master."
Sauron took a step closer. Several orcs backed away, feeling in danger.
"Oh?"
"B-but he had red eyes!" – He stammered and Sauron stopped walking.
"Katsuo." - He smirks, somewhat pleased to imagine the mortal acting like an impulsive hero.
"Tell me: am I Saruman?" – He asks the orc in front of him, who shakes his head, confused.
"No, my Lo..." Sauron reaches out, using his magic, and a whip of fire and shadow forms, snaring the creature's neck. The rope of shadow and fire burns the being's rough skin, pulling out its head. Sauron has an apathetic face and an indifferent tone of voice as he watches the other orcs.
"The next one who compares me to the wizard will meet this fate."– He says, swinging the whip gently. – "If you find a female, or children, whatever their species, escort them to me immediately. Without hurting them."
He sees the creatures' dissatisfaction, looking at him perversely, but too fearful to challenge his order before him. He had no doubt he would have trouble getting them to obey that particular order when he was out of sight.
One of the big problems with the creatures Melkor had created: their violent nature was hard to tame. Sometimes not even fear would control the creatures' most animalistic instincts.
The dark lord retreats, his tent in mind as he steps through the orcs. He pauses for a moment and raises his eyebrow, looking at the woman.
"Are you coming, woman?" – He questions; the older one looks at him with intrigue and fear, not moving from the floor where she was lying, hands covering what her torn clothes didn't. Sauron raises an eyebrow and waves his hand around. – "Or would you rather stay here?"
She gets up and trips a few times as she rushes to stand beside him.
Upon arriving at his tent, the boy takes out a wooden box and gives it to her.
"Do something about your clothes. Then clean and organize the tent." – He orders and the woman nods silently, taking the wooden box and peeking inside: needles and thread.
"Who are you?" – She asks. "Sauron" is on the tip of his tongue, the name was given to him by his enemies. He had gladly seized it at the time, turning the elves' mockery into dread. They named him abominable, detestable, and cruel... so he lived up to the name's meaning.
"Right now, your only hope of staying alive." – He answers, not thinking deeply about why he didn't just say the name.
He sits at his desk, reviewing the Nazgûl's reports on the search for the Ring.
"Shitty elves that always get in the way." – He clicks his tongue, rereading the passage that says the hobbit in possession of the Ring had been wounded but was now sheltering in Rivendell, being treated. He almost forgets the woman's presence, who stays as silent as possible.
His belly rumbles, reminding him of his now partially human nature.
"Zigur!" – He calls and an orc appears a few seconds later.
"Master." – The creature appears shortly afterward. The woman takes a step back, terrified, but neither of them pays her attention.
"Show her the kitchen, where to wash clothes, and where to get water for a bath. She will do these services from now on."
"Yes, master." – The orc says obediently. The woman doesn't even face the creature, throwing herself at Sauron's feet, sobbing.
"He's going to hurt me! His kind is evil! P-please... please, I-I'm not asking for myself!" – Sauron looks at her hands resting on her belly and then turns his gaze to the orc, who was watching the woman curiously. Zirgur was one of the most avid in the lessons and really paid attention to everything he said, sucking up his every word with blind adoration. If he'd been the size he should have been and not the adult form he'd been forced to grow into, he could have been almost captivating.
He doubts Zirgur will do her any harm; the orc was another one of Saruman's experiments, one of the newest, having only a few weeks to live. If she stopped to actually watch the orc, she wouldn't see a creature mangled of pure cruelty. Sauron had chosen five of the twenty modified orcs – ah, now it was nineteen – realizing that they were the most… visually tolerable.
Once Sauron made them clean themselves, those five were far more man-like than orcs. Their build was still robust, and their height greater than the average human's, but their skin wasn't gray, sickly pale, or greenish; it was the typical Haradrim color, a hue that ranged from caramel to dark brown. The teeth were slightly sharper, but not all of them, just the canines. They weren't beautiful by any stretch of the imagination on earth, but they were definitely not disgust-inducing like the rest, having some human features that softened the orc part a bit. Now he knew why. They had human mothers. So similar to men, in fact, that the Dark Lord noticed that they were less likely to initiate violent acts and were far more observant than the rest.
"I didn't save you just to send you to die now, woman." – The Maia grumbles and the woman watches, confused, as he moves and searches one of the chests for a stone, the prototype he's been working on for the last few weeks. It was for Eiko and Katsuo. But for now... He hands her the stone, engraved with runes.
"It will protect you. As long as you're in the same vicinity as me. The camp boundary is safe. If you venture further, it won't work. It's your choice if you want to take the risk. You understand?" – He questions, seriously and she can hear the words that were not said.
"I won't save you a second time. Run away, and you will be alone."
"I understand… young master." – She shakes her head and then follows the orc.
Sauron hears the cry of some orcs and peers through the gap in the tent, the night sky is the first thing he sees; Around the woman, a small circle of fire formed as a medium sphere, reminiscent of flames in her eyes, charred the orc that had tried to touch the woman.
He laughs and hopes someone else is stupid enough to try; he is not so lucky.
"Shame. It would be fun. Mnnn... Should I...?"
He rolls his eyes, shaking his head at the childish thought that crossed his mind. He didn't have time for pranks. But Sauron wonders if Kana would approve of that idea, before realizing the direction of his thoughts and the good mood slipping away, being replaced by that strange, heavy feeling.
"Eiko. Katsuo... Kana."
Why does it hurt so much?
.
.
.
[Appendix A]
About the soul fragments of a Maia.
In the beginning, Eru Ilúvatar, the Creator of all things, created from his thoughts beings called Ainur – also known as Maiar. Immortal beings with glorious forms that are impossible to understand for any other creature than themselves and the creator himself.
Eru created them immortal, and their Essence could not be physically contained without much effort on their part, and even then never for long, save for Melian, who obtained permission from Eru to keep her Essence in mortal form without much difficulty, because of the love she had for her husband, of the elven race.
The Ainur, some of them were chosen to rule in Arda, the first Earth (or Song), that Eru created. They had a mission to prepare the Earth for Eru's Children – the elves and humans, who would appear much later, in the proper time.
Melkor, one of the Ainur, however, corrupted himself and caused the Earth much evil for countless ages and seduced into his schemes of destruction many of the other Ainur (who admired him for his power), as well as Elves, Men, and many other creatures.
His most loyal servant was Mairon - who later became known as Sauron and created The One Ring that brought much misfortune to the free peoples of Middle-earth.
It turns out that One Ring was not merely an object he had forged with his magic and the reason other beings' minds were shaken by the Ring's power is because Sauron poured over it a piece of his own Essence into the Ring, a fragment of his own soul.
Now, it turns out that when a part of an Ainur's soul separates from its whole, it is a piece full of the Ainur's most prevalent emotions at the time it is separating from that soul fragment. In the case of the One Ring, Sauron's main feeling when forging the Ring was the desire to have dominion over the minds of his enemies to rule them.
But it was not the only bit of Essence that Sauron parted with; there was a time when Thangorodrim was destroyed and Melkor was overthrown, and Sauron repented of his evil deeds. And some claim that at first, he did not do it falsely, if only out of fear. But Sauron would have to return to Aman and be put under the judgment of Manwë (the leader of the Ainur on Earth). Then Sauron felt ashamed, and would not return humiliated, and receive from the Valar a sentence that might have been of long servitude as a proof of his good faith, for in Melkor's time his power had been great.
It was at this moment that Sauron inadvertently separated a fragment of his soul. He did not intend to do so, but his Essence cried out for love, lost without his master of long ages, fearful of judgment for his actions, and terribly lonely – for once he became corrupted, he turned away from all his former Ainur companions, with the only bond being that of Melkor, whom he adored.
He, who was not mortal, fell into a deep sleep and part of his Essence fell away from him, unbeknownst to him. The soul fragment traveled through space and time, even other Earth that Eru had created until he felt drawn to a particular world, with brilliant energies so unlike anything he had known until then.
The soul fragment searched for what he wanted most, which was to get rid of his loneliness.
There was a couple in that world that the soul piece wandered; a couple who ardently desired a child, but the woman could not conceive.
"If there is a God, please grant me a son." - She said once, crying. And at that moment, Eru Ilúvatar led the piece of soul, who was hungry for company, to the woman who desperately wanted a child.
Nine months later, Riki Uchiha is born.
.
.
.
Author's note:
I hope I've given you an idea of what exactly happened to Riki/Sauron. I always planned for Riki to be Sauron, only without the memories of being him, so I kind of used Voldemort's (Harry Potter) "Horcruxes" in which the soul is split as inspiration. So, at the moment, Sauron would have 2/3 of his soul, the third fragment being the Ring.
Do you think I managed to pass Sauron's annoyance/confusion with his human form? I wanted to make it very clear that Sauron is having a hard time being as apathetic as he used to be because of his human body's emotions, and that mourning Kana guides many of his decisions - even if he doesn't want to admit that he's mourning her.
I hope you enjoyed it, I know that making Sauron fragment his soul is such a huge "lie", but I thought it was creative and a good way to introduce the element of "redemption" in a plausible way.