So, sometime last October, I was merrily going along my way, when I found my ankle being gnawed by a pretty persistent plot bunny. Resigned, I picked it up only to realize what I had thought was a cute little evil plot bunny was in fact a Dark Lord in disguise. I complained to Crackers, and she kindly agreed to Beta this story for me. Now, with her help (and threats of toothpicks) it is finished! Enjoy!

How did I get here,
And what went wrong?
Couldn't handle forgiveness,
Now I'm far beyond gone.

I can hardly remember
The look of my own eyes.
How can I love this
A life so dishonest?
It made me compromise.

Someone save me
Someone save me
Somebody save me
Somebody save me
Please don't erase me.
-Shinedown "Save Me"

Prologue

Manwë may have blown what was left of the stubborn ex-lieutenant of Melkor away from the Armies of the West, but Námo had enough of his trying to enslave Middle-earth. With the greater part of his power destroyed with his Ring, he was unable to resist as Námo exerted his power over the hapless Maia. He was swiftly pulled into the cell Námo had prepared for him. It wasn't Melkor's old cell, but it didn't have to be. With so much of his essence destroyed, he wasn't much stronger than the elves held in the other cells like this one. Námo had placed him in a wing of his own, he didn't want to have any of them find out Sauron was here. Although placing Fëanor and Sauron together in a small space might be highly amusing…

The Maia was weakened to the point of being unable to incarnate. Námo, deciding it was easier to deal with him if he was incarnate, did it for him. He created a form that was true to the fallen Maia's nature, as well as to what he had experienced throughout the ages, the sense of justice that was so central to Námo's nature leaving no other option.

The fána formed slowly, tall for one of the Secondborn, about the hight of the tallest among the Firstborn, but short for one of the Ainur. Long black hair and golden eyes from when he had served Aulë, a too pale face from the long darkness he'd been in, the missing forefinger and the scared neck from the brief-but memorable-meetings with Isildur and Huan created the defining features.

Finishing, Námo bent down, tilting Sauron's head to stare into glazed eyes. Sauron blinked, unable to focus due to the extreme disorientation he was still experiencing. Námo nodded to himself, then stepped back.

"Well, we will see what this leads to," he murmured, before thinking himself away, to tell Manwë what he had just done, and to learn just what the Maia's fate would be.

FA 1

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!"

The faintly muttered word, accompanied by a faint banging, was the first thing that Námo heard when he next approached Sauron's cell. The disorientation should have worn off by now, and Manwë wanted to know what Sauron's attitude was towards recent events before he made any decisions as to the Maia's fate, though all knew that it was most likely he'd be following his master into the Void.

Námo raised an eyebrow at the scene that greeted him upon arriving at the cell. Sauron was sitting against the back wall, knees up, one arm casually draped around them, muttering to himself, and banging his head against the wall in time to what he was saying.

"Do you know how it makes you feel when you realize your were enslaved to your own creation?" he said without preamble, eyes flashing open and focusing on Námo's face. "No, of course not, because you've never done something so stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid!" he ranted, resuming banging his head against the wall. Námo leaned against the door jam, and let him rant.

"I mean, what did I think was going to happen when I poured the majority of my essence into an inanimate object, and made it seduce and enslave everyone it encounters!" He stopped banging his head on the wall and looked at Námo, curiosity glinting in his golden eyes. "How did those hobbits avoid that, anyway?" he asked.

"All your Ring offered was the power to dominate," Námo explained. "Hobbits as a rule do not desire such power. Thus they were fairly good at refusing Its call."

Sauron nodded, mulling that over. Then he sighed, running his four-fingered hand though his tangled hair. "So now what?" he asked bluntly.

The Doomsman of Arda stared at him dispassionately. "That is the question, isn't it." Námo commented quietly.

"I'm actually shocked you haven't thrown me out into the Void already," Sauron said when Námo seemed disinclined to say anything else.

"Do you want to be?" Námo asked.

"No!" Sauron replied instantly. "But I am curious as to why not."

"Has no one ever told you that too much curiosity will get you into trouble?" Námo asked, faint amusement creeping into his voice. Sauron snorted.

"Bit late for that, isn't it?" he said dryly.

"So you are admitting you are in trouble." Námo stated. Sauron sighed, eyes closing.

"Do you want the truth?" he asked, sounding tired. "I never actually believed in what Melkor was saying. And now, many of the reasons I continued in his footsteps after he was gone have been destroyed with my Ring," he said, opening his eyes again. "I'm missing much of what has been me for the past three ages...I don't know who I am or what I believe in anymore," he finished quietly.

"So what do you want?" Námo asked just as softly. Sauron laughed, a hollow and mirthless sound.

"I think I gave up what I wanted ages ago," he admitted. "But I'd really prefer not to be consigned to the Void."

"Why do you feel you should be spared that fate?" Námo asked, not condemning, but forcing Sauron to provide a reason.

"Because if you do throw me to the Void, you'll simply be handing back to Morgoth his chief lieutenant," Sauron stated. Námo's expression never changed, but mentally he raised an eyebrow at the bitterness in that statement.

"Well, you may bring that up at your trial." Námo stated.

Sauron sighed for a third time. "Now?" he asked, shifting as to rise. Námo shook his head.

"No, we must wait for a time," he replied. Sauron frowned.

"Why?" he asked, curiosity again coming to the fore.

"Because Manwë has decided that those who you have most hurt should have a voice in your fate," Námo explained.

"Finrod, Celebrimbor, Gil-galad…" Sauron mused. Námo shook his head again.

"Celebrimbor and Gil-galad have not yet been reborn. They will not be involved. Finrod will, however," Námo told him.

"So why the wait?" Sauron asked. He'd winced slightly when Finrod was confirmed as involved.

"Because Frodo Baggins will also get to give his opinion on what your fate will be." Sauron's face paled, shoulders tensing slightly.

"How can he?" he asked, voice almost steady.

"He is sailing to Valinor as we speak."

Sauron winced openly.

P.S. The song lyrics are kinda for fun, kinda for foreshadowing, kinda my inspiration, and kinda suggestions for music to listen to while reading the chapters. Make of that what you will.