#ffs i cant just answer an ask lmfao thank you though!! much to ponder!!!

[dinsbeskar]

do you think that before the fall of Numenor Sauron dressed up as Halbrand again and went to the forge he worked at to tell them "you better get outta here, trust me"

Naaaaaaaaaah I can't think about it!!!!

Not sauron getting sentimental and going back to the forge, finding the blacksmith who gave him a chance, and putting him and his family on a boat.

Ummmmm your brain???

Whenever I tackle the fall of numenor (probably when s3/4 comes out, let's be fair, so it's a way off) i will remember this and link you (if you drop your username I'll credit you 💜)

Oh dear, never mind, I wrote it. I'm tagging sauron x reader bc it fits into my series, but reader is only mentioned like once lmfao sorry.

Putting on Halbrand again is a strange feeling after having walked the streets of Númenor as himself. The people knew him as a dark wizard, would bow their heads and scurry out of his path whenever he deigned to leave the palace, so to walk among them as a ragged commoner once more was strangely refreshing.

Too bad the isle was on its countdown to destruction.

He'd actually grown to enjoy his time here, corrupting an entire people's very souls, bar the few Faithful. They would prove useful, as they prepare their ships today to leave for Middle Earth, their attempts at subterfuge no match for his all-seeing gaze.

The streets wound and meandered down the hill toward the sea, the guild district apparent from the scent of smoke and clanging of hammers. It took him only a quick glance inside the shop to know he was in the right place. The smith was older, noticeably so, and his ward had grown from a boy into a strapping young man, but he recognised them instantly.

"Show me your work, and I'll think about it."

Those words had changed everything for him once upon a time. Aulë’s smith had wanted nothing more than to craft beautiful things in that tiny forge, left alone to do his penance. Morgoth's shadow scoffed at the idea, now his plans were near fruition, but a tiny part of him wanted to save the beauty of the craft he'd seen in that tiny family-owned shop.

"Well, don't linger in the doorway, lad, come in, what can we do for you?" The smith's gruff voice rang out like a hammer on steel, jerking Sauron back to the present.

"Greetings, good sir, I don't suppose you remember me-"

"Nonsense! Halbrand, wasn't it? I thought you went across the sea? Shame that, you were one of the best apprentices I ever had, even if it were only for a few days."

Sauron grins at the indignant look on his apprentice's face.

"Only one of the best? I suppose I'll have to take that." Look at him, humble. It was possible.

"Well, the lad here gives you a run for your money, and if you'd stayed longer...? You haven't aged a day." The smith trails off as Sauron steps closer, the light from the furnace bouncing off his rugged face.

"Probably something in the water." He shrugs; bandying about pleasantries was not why he'd come all this way.

"Listen, I've heard there are boats leaving the island soon," he raises his eyebrows, "and it might not be a bad idea to get on one."

They look at each other, take a beat, then scoff, laughing at the idea of leaving paradise.

"Why would we want to do that, eh, lad? Me whole life is here, I'm an old man, I'm goin' nowhere." The old smith replies.

"Call it... a gut feeling, that Númenor is in danger. That perhaps the faithful are the rats leaving a sinking ship?"

Why is he doing this? In the back of his mind, he has to wonder what his true purpose is here. Certainly, the craftsmanship is superb, it would be a terrible shame to see it sink beneath the waves. Definitely nothing deeper than that, definitely not the vaguest notion of doing a man a good turn when he'd offered him the same, so very long ago.

The old smith seems unconvinced, exchanges a few more pleasantries, but the young man at his side seems more pliable.

"Good to see you again, Halbrand. If you don't get on one of them ships, come back and I'll see if I can throw some work your way." The smith laughs, clapping him on the shoulder.

Sauron winces imperceptibly, the feeling of flesh on flesh so casually still a strange notion, even after all this time.

He nods and departs, waiting for the apprentice to run after him. He does so, predictably, and Sauron fixes his best surprised expression before turning around to greet him.

"What you said, about the boats? What do you know?" The lad asks, almost muttering to stay out of bounds of any prying ears.

"Just that they're leaving tonight and tomorrow, and that you should get on one." He gives him a knowing look, trying to impress upon him that he can't say what will happen, but that something will and it will be cataclysmic.

"I can't convince him to go, but folks have been talking for a while now, what with that new temple on high and the wizard in the palace, things are..."

"Precarious." Sauron finishes his sentence for him, nodding knowingly.

He had been responsible for a good many changes under Ar-Pharazôn's rule, the temple for Morgoth probably his crowning achievement. Of course it had set some of the common folk on edge, but that was a small price to pay for the hearts of a nation.

"I'll try and convince him." The lad finally replies, worry etched on his smoke-blackened face.

"Do. And don't fail."

Sauron leaves then, giving only a second glance to the young man still watching after him. He had tried. One good deed for another, after all. You'd be proud of him, he'd make sure of it.

Oh no. He stops in his tracks, infuriated at the mere thought of you. So that's what has him feeling sentimental.

He curses your name and makes his way back to the palace, taking in the sights of Númenor one more time. It would be any day now.