Gandalf stood on the pinnacle of Orthanc, and wept. Below him, the ground was unrecognizable, even from what it had been when he had first been placed here. But that was not why the Istar wept.

Saruman had the Ring. And what that could mean for his dear friends…he didn't even want to contemplate.

He had removed Narya when Saruman had first put on the Ring, and he hoped that Elrond and Galadriel had been able to do the same with Vilya and Nenya. With them removed, it would take time for Saruman to be able to enslave them–time which he now had, Gandalf knew. The fallen wizard had just returned from the East, from a great victory. Barely able to admit it to himself, Gandalf wondered if he mourned his brother as well. While he had accepted this assignment to see his overthrow, Gandalf still felt slightly sick inside when he wondered what cruel fate Saruman would have given his defeated foe.

But none of that mattered. He had failed: failed his Lord and mission, failed his friends, failed Middle-earth, failed his brother… Gandalf paused. Yes, he had failed his brother. What Sauron was now merely a mockery of all his brother had been, and his destruction would have been a mercy in his older brother's eyes. But he was still here, part of him bound in that thrice-cursed Ring.

Gandalf knew that his own torment and destruction would be near at hand: had not Saruman promised as much? A fitting reward for the insolence of Gandalf the Grey? But he could not find it in him to care, not when everything he had fought and cared about had suddenly been laid to waste.

Lost in his thoughts, he did not notice the rush of wings, until burning hands grabbed him, lifting him onto the back of a creature that looked like it had been spawned in the pits of Utumno. Gandalf froze, but did not resist as hands reached around him to grab reigns, frantically slapping the creature to get it airborne.

Saruman realized that his prisoner had escaped, but the creature was fast, and his response too late. Gandalf stayed quiet, and hands he still knew well, even after the Ages, guided the creature to the north-east. They skirted the edges of the Hithaeglir, eventually stopping at a small cave. The opening was barely large enough for the creature to fit, and inside, all was black: though Gandalf got the sense it was bigger than one would suspect.

Gandalf felt the one behind him dismount, an absence of heat more than anything. He too, slipped to the ground.

"The cave splits," a well-known voice said. "Take the one to the left: it has a bit of a draught in it, so I can light a fire without worrying about killing us both."

Gandalf did as the voice said, feeling the creature take the other fork. His rescuer followed him, and Gandalf could hear him rustling around, searching for something.

"I thought you had been destroyed," Gandalf said in a flat tone.

"What is the use of defeating and humiliating someone without them still able to understand their loss?" The weary, bitter pain in that statement almost made Gandalf flinch, and again wonder what Saruman had done.

"Why did you rescue me?" Gandalf asked, to cover his emotion. A snort met that query, and its owner seemed to finally find what he was looking for, as small sparks began to appear.

"I would not leave my worst enemy to Saruman…well, maybe Gothmog. Those two would deserve each other. But certainly not you." Gandalf squeezed his eyes shut as the fire finally caught.

"You are telling me, that you risked the wrath of the one who could completely destroy you, to rescue me…because we are brothers?" He opened his eyes again, meeting the golden ones which reflected the light of the new-caught flames.

"Yes," Sauron said simply.

Utumno is the name of the first fortress of Melkor, who was the first Dark Lord. (Yes, Sauron is the second)

Hithaeglir is simply the Elvish name of the Misty Mountains.