The wind changed. The birds of Lindon flew south in fear. The Age of Peace was over; the Great Deception had begun. If you'd like to take this story further, I can:
(like the island kingdom of Númenor)
As the first Three Rings were cooled in spring water, a different fire was rising in the Southlands. In the cracks of Mount Doom, a master ring was being forged in secret—one to bind the others, one to turn the Elves' desire for beauty into a golden cage.