The dark realm trembled. Dread filled the armies of Sauron and his servants quailed. A cloud of fear passed over every mind enslaved to the Dark Lord’s will. The eye of Sauron was looking inwards now, in great anxiety.
Sauron’s thoughts raced back to that day, three thousand years ago when he had been separated from his Ring. Back one age of middle earth, to the rabble of the West. The Númenoreans, he had corrupted and the land of gift had been vanquished, engulfed by the fury of the Valar. But some, the faithful, led by Elendil had survived the downfall and escaped to Ea. This very force had allied with the remnant of the elves of Middle Earth to challenge the might of the Dark land. Something on that fateful day had made him want to go to war himself and destroy the Westernesse for all time.
The appearance of the heir of Isildur had made Sauron uncertain. Doubts troubled his dark mind. This man had the strength of will to defy Sauron’s own and had wrested the Palantír of Orthanc from Sauron for his own purposes. What if he had the Ring? The Dark Lord could feel old pain again of when the Ring had been cut off from his finger by the sword of Elendil. He had now seen the sword reforged being unsheathed in a call to war. Sauron shuddered and the lands trembled once again.
His thoughts now turned to Minas Tirith, the last stronghold of men in defiance to Mordor. Gondor alone stood between Sauron and Mastery of all Middle earth. The steward of Gondor was a masterful man, a man of great will who refused to be overthrown by Sauron. What if……
Pushing these thoughts of dread from his mind, he turned his mind now to the grey wanderer, the one whom the elves call Gandalf. Sauron had known Olorin from the beginning of time, before the stars, even before Arda itself. He feared Olorin, though he only admitted it to himself. At all times, his doings had puzzled Sauron and he couldn’t fathom the depths of his mind. How different he was from Curumo, now called Saruman (Who Sauron felt was very much like himself). The order of the Istari had never caused much real damage to him. Of the five, three had been enamoured by middle earth and had neglected their task. The white wizard, Saruman had even been in service of Barad Dûr. Now only Gandalf was left, his greatest foe from the beginning of Time.
Sauron remembered his master, Morgoth and his nihilistic madness. Morgoth desired destruction of Arda itself, while Sauron was quite content with the prospect of only ruling it. Almost against his own will he remembered once more, his first master, Aule and a strange, hitherto unknown fear flooded his mind.
Suddenly, all of Sauron’s musings and troubled thoughts were shifted to the back of his mind, as he perceived a disturbance on the very borders of his land. Night lay over Morgul vale.
(With special thanks to Anorelen for invaluable advice)