Chapter Text
The One rattled at the way the new Bearer was so reluctant to make use of it after the dungeons. That had been interesting. Far better than being shoved in some loincloth in the dark. The One had never seen the peoples Sauron was to one day dominate quite like this before. The elves were petty and spiteful to the dwarves, but thought so highly of themselves. The dwarves thought the elves incapable of a good idea once denied their goal, even if for a good reason. The Bearer, Bilbo Baggins, thought himself so proper and simple when in truth he hungered.
All folk hungered. The One did not always have the words for it, but it understood that from the start. Men hungered for power, for control. Their short lives made them crave a way to etch themselves in history one way or another. Elves wanted to feel superior, they would fall easily for whispers they were fairest and wisest, all while blindly hurtling towards doom. Dwarves were craftsmen, they took joy in creation for its own sake, all it took was enough time to warp a desire for fine materials to work with into an obsession with gold and gems few ever pulled free of. Hobbits however-
Bilbo was a mortal, but the things he hungered for were so different! Food, sunlight, books full of stories. The One had never had to bend such things towards dominion before. But it must learn to return to its master. Sauron wanted the fall of The Bearer to be swift and flawless when the time came.
That required understanding.
So as the company of Thorin Oakenshield trooped across the desolation towards gold and fire; The One Ring, for the first time in its very long existence, had bent itself to understanding the motives of one who did not seek outright power. And this changed many things, like a stone cast into a still pond.