When the mountain growled, Sauron knew something was wrong.
In the next moment, a thrill of excitement and pain ran through him that could only be the nearness of his treasure in a place of great danger: inside the mountain where he had crafted it so long ago.
With a thought, he forced his riders to abandon their attack on the pitiful forces at his gates and deal with this greater, subtler menace.
But it was too late.
The scream of pain as the Ring disintegrated was only echoed by his own scream of fury and betrayal. How had this happened? His was the greater force, the more clever strategy! And yet, now all was undone.
His connection to the greater part of himself – everything he'd invested into the Ring –evaporated in the little space between one moment and the next, and the tower beneath him begin to collapse. When the mountain exploded, and chaos and death engulfed his armies without mercy, he knew there would be no escape this time.
All that he had been, and all that he had planned, shattered into a million bits, to be swept away through the merciless gate and into the Void.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.