S a t a n a m a
By Sharazad
WARNING!!!!! If you don't like Angst...then you'd better wait for the next part. But the problem: it all ties in, so you shouldn't even be reading this story...TAKE YOUR OWN RISK!! (It gets even angstier if you listen to the last few tracks on the LotR Soundtrack...'specially "In Dreams" during the end of the chapter)
AN: Hi ho, everyone! (He-he)...this fic, you may think is really, REALLY, stupid but anyway this is my first LotR fic. J.R.R. Tolkien owns everything except Aliyana, Acacia, Fionn, Fingal, and I'll give myself credit for anything else that pops up that I have created. Oh, yes. David Day's "A Tolkien Bestiary" gave me all the history of Gondor and all that other good shtuff that Tolkien came up with (Hey, he worked on this for twelve years. What DO you expect !?) .My AN's are WAY longer than this, but...I try. This is also a bit of a song-fic at the end of this part (In Dreams, by Fran Walsh and Howard Shore). I accept help, criticism (not yelling and screaming in a negative way), you can use my characters if you want (email- me at )and feedback, I shall tell you when flames are necessary,...okay all of that being said here is the story... I'm probably going to end up selling this BUT change all to the Tolkien stuff and put my stuff in....I dunno...Well at least you're spared from my really long AN's from my Mummy fics (not finished) so why don't you check 'em out...okay...story...here it is!! (Yay, I can shut up now...I'm in a large cardboard box and...)*Muse comes along and duct tapes Shara's mouth* mphrrrr!... Muse: sorry about that people. I have to interpret my self through a spaz. Note: the "*" are at the end of the chapter. SO...HERE IS THE STORY!!!!! Thank you...and Please R/R.
P a r t I : T h e B e g i n n i n g
Gondor lay in half sunlight, an awaiting storm coming on, the grey- black mixing with the pristine azure. The great *White Tower stood in all of its glory, the sun giving it an ambient glow to the rest of the city, the only part of the city not corrupted by the greater Orcs, the Uruk-Hai. *Minas Ithil had been taken by the Uruk-Hai in the year two-thousand and two and renamed it Minas Morgul.*Osgiliath was burned by the Orcs and the bridge lay in ruins to get to it. The Nazgûl, who were forever living in their ever inclining lust for the One Ring of might and power, had also aided this great cataclysm to Gondor.
Their Rings were taken from them as well when they were men, now they were servants to the dark lord, Sauron. He was destroyed when Isildur cut the One Ring from Saurons' hand, and his minions left into the shadows. Although, the Dark lord was not yet defeated. There was yet a great eye still left of him and with his vision he could pierce through any boundaries, even magic. The Ringwraiths still lived in their torment and pain searching for it, the Ring.
In this time, Gondor had grown very weak, but Minas Anor still stood strong and ardent. Its king Arathorn was a great man who was valiant and not like his great descendant from over three thousand years ago, Isildur, but Arathorn still felt the great weight of his ancestral blood. Arathorn had piercing grey eyes, almost elvish, but they were kind. He had black hair and a beard, was a fabled warrior and a man that possessed great talents. He was a more than adequate swordsman, archer and talented in the art of warfare, he was a very kind man and would protect those he loved with all of his strength. The matter of the ring concerned him very much since Isildur took the Ring for himself when he had been instructed by Elrond, lord of Rivendell, to destroy it, the weakness of man showed in that moment and was ever diluted after. Despite of what had happened in the past, he told himself to forget, but at least to be aware of the fact that he still, and many others as well, could be corrupted by this evil.
Arathorn had taken a wife whom he loved very much. Her name was Acacia, tree of light was what her name meant. She had long brown hair and dark blue eyes, but they were kind and full of mirth. Acacia practiced magic, she did possess a talent that was passed down to her daughter, Aliyana, One who prevails with the enchanted. She looked much like her mother, but her eyes were of a different nature. Amethyst they were, and if one looked into them they would see a different light, one deeper and brighter, but very strange. She preferred a bow more than a sword and even then didn't love warfare much, even though she was very agile and quick. Arathorn and Acacia had a son as well, before Aliyana. His name was Aragorn. Aragorn was dark haired as his father and possessed a mix of his father's and mother's eyes, a visage of an elvish sort. He was becoming a satisfactory swordsman, being taught by his father, and when the king had other matters to attend to, Aragorn and Aliyana's guardian, Fionn would teach them.
Fionn was an elf from The Great Desert of Harad. He had dark coffee skin and shoulder-length black hair and a trimly cut beard with a set of dark hazel eyes. He wore black most of the time to represent his people. He knew Arathorn well from helping him out in a campaign against the Uruk-Hai over Minas Anor. The Orcs had not claimed Minas Anor, the last standing tower of Gondor. Fionn's people, the High Elves, hated his family thereafter, that they would dare associate with men. Arathorn saw this and accepted them into Gondor. They could live in the palace, unless they would teach his children things of use such as self-defense and history of Arda, Middle-Earth and The Undying Lands.
Fionn took up this oath, more than willingly, and he felt that he was a part of that family as well.
Fionn had a brother, Fingal. He resembled his brother in skin color, but had darker eyes and was a more of a secretive man, didn't talk much, didn't show his emotions much, but he still was a kind man.
During the day, in a small courtyard, Aragorn was bettering his swordsmanship, even though he was only ten years old. The small, round- cropped trees in their relieves, looked tranquil and placid. The greenness of the trees and the grass contrasted with the white stone of the walls and the plaza, but the small boy wasn't concentrating on that now. His father had some matters to attend to, and as young as Aragorn was, he respected that.
The clangs of the swords echoed throughout the open-air gallery with quick movement. The boy gave out a small war cry whenever he hit his opponent's sword. Fionn chuckled after an hour of combat, "No more fighting today, Aragorn. You are tiring your guardian too much," Aragorn laughed as he laid his sword in the large, leather pouch onto one side of the plaza, as did Fionn.
Aragorn sat with Fionn on a small stone bench in the shade of the one large willow that grew in the northern corner of the courtyard. "But you are so young," Fionn laughed again and shook his head "Aragorn, I am two- thousand and seventy hundred ," The boy's eyes grew wide "Well, that is a little old...I guess," Fionn smiled and continued "You are becoming a very talented swordsman, within time you will be able to dance to a quicker tune," Aragorn nodded slightly and smiled "Could I try the bow and arrows?" Fionn moved his brows upward in a shrug "If you wish, but you could learn them from the Wood Elves, they are better archers than Elves from the Great Desert," Because Aragorn was young and headstrong he had to ask: "When?" Fionn shook his head "We'll have to talk with your father about that,"
A tall and graceful figure formed from the dark shadows of the Pergola with a taller figure that had an arm wrapped around the woman. She had a smile playing about her lips, looking down at a smaller figure and yet with the same grace. Fionn nodded towards the three "Here comes your Mother, Father and Sister," Aragorn stood from the bench and he jogged slightly to meet his family. Fionn smiled at the four, they looking so happy. He was surprised that he was not jealous of them, but content with their love for one another. That was what he had wanted. Love was the greatest adventure of all, and yet most took it for granted. Love came with the worst hardships, the greatest joys, and the largest surprises.
He heard the heavy, dull thud of boots behind him and already knew who it was. He still kept his gaze on the family as he smiled slightly. "Fingal, where have you been?" Fionn said to his brother as he sat down next to him on the bench. With the acuteness of the senses of an Elf, Fionn noticed something dark, something leaden, about his brother's presence, and yet he sounded like he was regretting something."I...I have news for you, brother," Fionn turned to him "What is it, Fingal. Speak," Fingal turned his gaze to the family and Fionn could see a change in his eyes one that he could not discern, but something in his mind told him that it wouldn't bode well. "Would you risk your life for them?" Fionn gave Fingal a look of confusion as he turned his gaze back to him. "Of course I would. We both swore an oath that we would protect the royal family, by blood, for as long as we live, and you know that as well. Why do you ask such a question?"
Fingal had a dark look mixed with sorrow in his eyes that made Fionn apprehensive to his next answer. "You must be careful, Fionn, for there will be a great evil that I cannot stop within my own self," Fionn shook his head "Fingal, we are elves," Fingal nearly spat at the word but tightened his jaw instead "Something is changing within me and I cannot stop it. I...I don't know what it is," Fingal looked at the ground. Fionn gave him a small smile "That's why I'm here. You can tell your brother," Fingal looked up at Fionn, another sullen look from him but with malice "Can't you?"
"This one thing I cannot tell you, Fionn. You must be very careful for those who you love and hold dear, you will lose your life this day...I know it. Many things I have yet to tell, and many things I have yet to hide from you. Look at them," Fionn looked at them, seeing them in their contented state made him smile inwardly, but he kept a grim face on. "What do you see?" Fionn nodded "I see contented people, those who have a great gift,"
"And what is that?"
"Love," Fionn was getting confused by his brother's questions but listened for more. The elf looked at his brother. Tears were shining in his eyes with a morbid look in them, but a smile was curving at his lips "They will lose that great gift soon–" Fingal looked at his brother "--And they will feel what pain I feel," Fionn felt fear jolt into his heart. For the ones that he held so dear, If he did not warn them, they would surely perish without love and their bonds of love would be severed mortally. And for his brother, If he did warn them, they would exile him, his own flesh and blood. Fingal was breaking his oath that they had made twenty years ago. How would he attack? What would his forces consist of...if he had any at all? He knew his brother well enough and knew that he wouldn't be saying something like this unless he had some sort of force of great strength and power. Fionn's head was dizzying with questions. Fingal's smile faded, his tears falling "And I know if I asked you to join me, your answer would be no. I see that you love these people too much,"
"Join...?"
Fingal stiffened his jaw as he rose "Wind to thy wings, Fionn," as he turned to leave he stopped and looked at the oncoming sky, now a dark onyx, the clouds moving faster, "I...do not wish to do this but...it is time," He quickly turned and left without a word. Fionn stared in shock and disbelief. His brother was going to do something drastic, something to try and kill the inhabitants of Minas Anor...and make them suffer.
He felt something wet drop onto his hand, then a few more hit him. He looked at his hand as the rain's clearness rolled off of him. It was cold, too cold, and he felt his own tears brimming over his eyes. Fionn was confused, but he had some idea of what was to happen. As wise as he was, Fionn wasn't expecting something of this nature ever to happen to him. They had been the best of friends before. Fingal wasn't always cut off like that. It was when Arathorn had asked them to stay, and that was when he had just rarely spoke to him again. Fionn bowed his head as he felt the rain wet his dark, raven hair.
Something pulled him out of his thoughts. It was a tugging at his sleeve. Fionn turned to look down at a pair of violet eyes. Long brown hair clothed her head, and she had porcelain skin. He smiled inspite of himself, not wanting for her to see his sadness and confusion. "You shouldn't stay out here long, Fionn. You could catch a nasty cold..." Aliyana said as a matter-of-factly then she looked deeper into her guardian's eyes. Aliyana nodded then took Fionn's hand and they continued into the musty smelling Pergola and into the palace. Fionn closed his eyes in disbelief. She knew. That girl was wise beyond her years and had sharp senses. When her magic prowess would improve, she would become a formidable enemy to those she hated, but a great friend to those whom she loved.
Fionn knew that he would have to brace himself for the worst for whatever was to happen, he would stay true to his pledge and he would make sure that no harm would come to any of the royal family. His sword and arrows would slay those who opposed him and he even then felt the adrenalin rush flowing through his veins and knew that his brother, Fingal, would try persistently again and again, to hurt him and those he held so dear to him.
* * *
Fingal stood under the blackened and charred sky, staring back at the city which he had lived in for many years. The tall White Tower half bathed in sunlight was slowly being eclipsed by the clouds. Fingal's hair was blown one side of his face, matted by the rain, twisting and curling under the wind's fingers. The wind blew in from the north, a foul one at that, from the *Pits of Utmino. He closed his eyes to think of what had been said in the garden. He didn't want to harm them, but something in his heart told him that it was right what he had done. He hated them, hated Arathorn, he had only pitied them and not respected them. Fionn was weak and gave in, he betrayed him, and oath that the High Elves of the Great Desert had made: that they would never make friends with humans. And now that promise had been broken for twenty long years.
Suddenly, the earth seemed to explode up around him of foul Orcs, and the great Uruk-Hai. Their skin, burned from torturing, was black as the onyx sky above them, their eyes an unnatural piercing green, told a different tale, one of great pain and sorrow, that they had been changed from being an elf to a dank and demonic creature. They screamed, and filled the air with cries of fury, banged on their shields with their swords and cried for the blood of men of Minas Anor, Shaking their banners, full of fury and contempt and revulsion. Their gnarled and blackened fingers curled around their cruel weapons. Their hair was matted and plastered against their thick skulls, made them a sight to behold. A loud sound of a battle drum rolled out against the walls of Minas Anor, in it's unnatural pitch, congesting the air with it's putrid sound. Fingal opened his eyes and gave a smile with out amusement to Gondor.
"I shall miss thee, brother, when I see your blood on the stones of this great place, and
when I have given your blackened heart to the dark lord, Sauron,"
By Sharazad
WARNING!!!!! If you don't like Angst...then you'd better wait for the next part. But the problem: it all ties in, so you shouldn't even be reading this story...TAKE YOUR OWN RISK!! (It gets even angstier if you listen to the last few tracks on the LotR Soundtrack...'specially "In Dreams" during the end of the chapter)
AN: Hi ho, everyone! (He-he)...this fic, you may think is really, REALLY, stupid but anyway this is my first LotR fic. J.R.R. Tolkien owns everything except Aliyana, Acacia, Fionn, Fingal, and I'll give myself credit for anything else that pops up that I have created. Oh, yes. David Day's "A Tolkien Bestiary" gave me all the history of Gondor and all that other good shtuff that Tolkien came up with (Hey, he worked on this for twelve years. What DO you expect !?) .My AN's are WAY longer than this, but...I try. This is also a bit of a song-fic at the end of this part (In Dreams, by Fran Walsh and Howard Shore). I accept help, criticism (not yelling and screaming in a negative way), you can use my characters if you want (email- me at )and feedback, I shall tell you when flames are necessary,...okay all of that being said here is the story... I'm probably going to end up selling this BUT change all to the Tolkien stuff and put my stuff in....I dunno...Well at least you're spared from my really long AN's from my Mummy fics (not finished) so why don't you check 'em out...okay...story...here it is!! (Yay, I can shut up now...I'm in a large cardboard box and...)*Muse comes along and duct tapes Shara's mouth* mphrrrr!... Muse: sorry about that people. I have to interpret my self through a spaz. Note: the "*" are at the end of the chapter. SO...HERE IS THE STORY!!!!! Thank you...and Please R/R.
P a r t I : T h e B e g i n n i n g
Gondor lay in half sunlight, an awaiting storm coming on, the grey- black mixing with the pristine azure. The great *White Tower stood in all of its glory, the sun giving it an ambient glow to the rest of the city, the only part of the city not corrupted by the greater Orcs, the Uruk-Hai. *Minas Ithil had been taken by the Uruk-Hai in the year two-thousand and two and renamed it Minas Morgul.*Osgiliath was burned by the Orcs and the bridge lay in ruins to get to it. The Nazgûl, who were forever living in their ever inclining lust for the One Ring of might and power, had also aided this great cataclysm to Gondor.
Their Rings were taken from them as well when they were men, now they were servants to the dark lord, Sauron. He was destroyed when Isildur cut the One Ring from Saurons' hand, and his minions left into the shadows. Although, the Dark lord was not yet defeated. There was yet a great eye still left of him and with his vision he could pierce through any boundaries, even magic. The Ringwraiths still lived in their torment and pain searching for it, the Ring.
In this time, Gondor had grown very weak, but Minas Anor still stood strong and ardent. Its king Arathorn was a great man who was valiant and not like his great descendant from over three thousand years ago, Isildur, but Arathorn still felt the great weight of his ancestral blood. Arathorn had piercing grey eyes, almost elvish, but they were kind. He had black hair and a beard, was a fabled warrior and a man that possessed great talents. He was a more than adequate swordsman, archer and talented in the art of warfare, he was a very kind man and would protect those he loved with all of his strength. The matter of the ring concerned him very much since Isildur took the Ring for himself when he had been instructed by Elrond, lord of Rivendell, to destroy it, the weakness of man showed in that moment and was ever diluted after. Despite of what had happened in the past, he told himself to forget, but at least to be aware of the fact that he still, and many others as well, could be corrupted by this evil.
Arathorn had taken a wife whom he loved very much. Her name was Acacia, tree of light was what her name meant. She had long brown hair and dark blue eyes, but they were kind and full of mirth. Acacia practiced magic, she did possess a talent that was passed down to her daughter, Aliyana, One who prevails with the enchanted. She looked much like her mother, but her eyes were of a different nature. Amethyst they were, and if one looked into them they would see a different light, one deeper and brighter, but very strange. She preferred a bow more than a sword and even then didn't love warfare much, even though she was very agile and quick. Arathorn and Acacia had a son as well, before Aliyana. His name was Aragorn. Aragorn was dark haired as his father and possessed a mix of his father's and mother's eyes, a visage of an elvish sort. He was becoming a satisfactory swordsman, being taught by his father, and when the king had other matters to attend to, Aragorn and Aliyana's guardian, Fionn would teach them.
Fionn was an elf from The Great Desert of Harad. He had dark coffee skin and shoulder-length black hair and a trimly cut beard with a set of dark hazel eyes. He wore black most of the time to represent his people. He knew Arathorn well from helping him out in a campaign against the Uruk-Hai over Minas Anor. The Orcs had not claimed Minas Anor, the last standing tower of Gondor. Fionn's people, the High Elves, hated his family thereafter, that they would dare associate with men. Arathorn saw this and accepted them into Gondor. They could live in the palace, unless they would teach his children things of use such as self-defense and history of Arda, Middle-Earth and The Undying Lands.
Fionn took up this oath, more than willingly, and he felt that he was a part of that family as well.
Fionn had a brother, Fingal. He resembled his brother in skin color, but had darker eyes and was a more of a secretive man, didn't talk much, didn't show his emotions much, but he still was a kind man.
During the day, in a small courtyard, Aragorn was bettering his swordsmanship, even though he was only ten years old. The small, round- cropped trees in their relieves, looked tranquil and placid. The greenness of the trees and the grass contrasted with the white stone of the walls and the plaza, but the small boy wasn't concentrating on that now. His father had some matters to attend to, and as young as Aragorn was, he respected that.
The clangs of the swords echoed throughout the open-air gallery with quick movement. The boy gave out a small war cry whenever he hit his opponent's sword. Fionn chuckled after an hour of combat, "No more fighting today, Aragorn. You are tiring your guardian too much," Aragorn laughed as he laid his sword in the large, leather pouch onto one side of the plaza, as did Fionn.
Aragorn sat with Fionn on a small stone bench in the shade of the one large willow that grew in the northern corner of the courtyard. "But you are so young," Fionn laughed again and shook his head "Aragorn, I am two- thousand and seventy hundred ," The boy's eyes grew wide "Well, that is a little old...I guess," Fionn smiled and continued "You are becoming a very talented swordsman, within time you will be able to dance to a quicker tune," Aragorn nodded slightly and smiled "Could I try the bow and arrows?" Fionn moved his brows upward in a shrug "If you wish, but you could learn them from the Wood Elves, they are better archers than Elves from the Great Desert," Because Aragorn was young and headstrong he had to ask: "When?" Fionn shook his head "We'll have to talk with your father about that,"
A tall and graceful figure formed from the dark shadows of the Pergola with a taller figure that had an arm wrapped around the woman. She had a smile playing about her lips, looking down at a smaller figure and yet with the same grace. Fionn nodded towards the three "Here comes your Mother, Father and Sister," Aragorn stood from the bench and he jogged slightly to meet his family. Fionn smiled at the four, they looking so happy. He was surprised that he was not jealous of them, but content with their love for one another. That was what he had wanted. Love was the greatest adventure of all, and yet most took it for granted. Love came with the worst hardships, the greatest joys, and the largest surprises.
He heard the heavy, dull thud of boots behind him and already knew who it was. He still kept his gaze on the family as he smiled slightly. "Fingal, where have you been?" Fionn said to his brother as he sat down next to him on the bench. With the acuteness of the senses of an Elf, Fionn noticed something dark, something leaden, about his brother's presence, and yet he sounded like he was regretting something."I...I have news for you, brother," Fionn turned to him "What is it, Fingal. Speak," Fingal turned his gaze to the family and Fionn could see a change in his eyes one that he could not discern, but something in his mind told him that it wouldn't bode well. "Would you risk your life for them?" Fionn gave Fingal a look of confusion as he turned his gaze back to him. "Of course I would. We both swore an oath that we would protect the royal family, by blood, for as long as we live, and you know that as well. Why do you ask such a question?"
Fingal had a dark look mixed with sorrow in his eyes that made Fionn apprehensive to his next answer. "You must be careful, Fionn, for there will be a great evil that I cannot stop within my own self," Fionn shook his head "Fingal, we are elves," Fingal nearly spat at the word but tightened his jaw instead "Something is changing within me and I cannot stop it. I...I don't know what it is," Fingal looked at the ground. Fionn gave him a small smile "That's why I'm here. You can tell your brother," Fingal looked up at Fionn, another sullen look from him but with malice "Can't you?"
"This one thing I cannot tell you, Fionn. You must be very careful for those who you love and hold dear, you will lose your life this day...I know it. Many things I have yet to tell, and many things I have yet to hide from you. Look at them," Fionn looked at them, seeing them in their contented state made him smile inwardly, but he kept a grim face on. "What do you see?" Fionn nodded "I see contented people, those who have a great gift,"
"And what is that?"
"Love," Fionn was getting confused by his brother's questions but listened for more. The elf looked at his brother. Tears were shining in his eyes with a morbid look in them, but a smile was curving at his lips "They will lose that great gift soon–" Fingal looked at his brother "--And they will feel what pain I feel," Fionn felt fear jolt into his heart. For the ones that he held so dear, If he did not warn them, they would surely perish without love and their bonds of love would be severed mortally. And for his brother, If he did warn them, they would exile him, his own flesh and blood. Fingal was breaking his oath that they had made twenty years ago. How would he attack? What would his forces consist of...if he had any at all? He knew his brother well enough and knew that he wouldn't be saying something like this unless he had some sort of force of great strength and power. Fionn's head was dizzying with questions. Fingal's smile faded, his tears falling "And I know if I asked you to join me, your answer would be no. I see that you love these people too much,"
"Join...?"
Fingal stiffened his jaw as he rose "Wind to thy wings, Fionn," as he turned to leave he stopped and looked at the oncoming sky, now a dark onyx, the clouds moving faster, "I...do not wish to do this but...it is time," He quickly turned and left without a word. Fionn stared in shock and disbelief. His brother was going to do something drastic, something to try and kill the inhabitants of Minas Anor...and make them suffer.
He felt something wet drop onto his hand, then a few more hit him. He looked at his hand as the rain's clearness rolled off of him. It was cold, too cold, and he felt his own tears brimming over his eyes. Fionn was confused, but he had some idea of what was to happen. As wise as he was, Fionn wasn't expecting something of this nature ever to happen to him. They had been the best of friends before. Fingal wasn't always cut off like that. It was when Arathorn had asked them to stay, and that was when he had just rarely spoke to him again. Fionn bowed his head as he felt the rain wet his dark, raven hair.
Something pulled him out of his thoughts. It was a tugging at his sleeve. Fionn turned to look down at a pair of violet eyes. Long brown hair clothed her head, and she had porcelain skin. He smiled inspite of himself, not wanting for her to see his sadness and confusion. "You shouldn't stay out here long, Fionn. You could catch a nasty cold..." Aliyana said as a matter-of-factly then she looked deeper into her guardian's eyes. Aliyana nodded then took Fionn's hand and they continued into the musty smelling Pergola and into the palace. Fionn closed his eyes in disbelief. She knew. That girl was wise beyond her years and had sharp senses. When her magic prowess would improve, she would become a formidable enemy to those she hated, but a great friend to those whom she loved.
Fionn knew that he would have to brace himself for the worst for whatever was to happen, he would stay true to his pledge and he would make sure that no harm would come to any of the royal family. His sword and arrows would slay those who opposed him and he even then felt the adrenalin rush flowing through his veins and knew that his brother, Fingal, would try persistently again and again, to hurt him and those he held so dear to him.
* * *
Fingal stood under the blackened and charred sky, staring back at the city which he had lived in for many years. The tall White Tower half bathed in sunlight was slowly being eclipsed by the clouds. Fingal's hair was blown one side of his face, matted by the rain, twisting and curling under the wind's fingers. The wind blew in from the north, a foul one at that, from the *Pits of Utmino. He closed his eyes to think of what had been said in the garden. He didn't want to harm them, but something in his heart told him that it was right what he had done. He hated them, hated Arathorn, he had only pitied them and not respected them. Fionn was weak and gave in, he betrayed him, and oath that the High Elves of the Great Desert had made: that they would never make friends with humans. And now that promise had been broken for twenty long years.
Suddenly, the earth seemed to explode up around him of foul Orcs, and the great Uruk-Hai. Their skin, burned from torturing, was black as the onyx sky above them, their eyes an unnatural piercing green, told a different tale, one of great pain and sorrow, that they had been changed from being an elf to a dank and demonic creature. They screamed, and filled the air with cries of fury, banged on their shields with their swords and cried for the blood of men of Minas Anor, Shaking their banners, full of fury and contempt and revulsion. Their gnarled and blackened fingers curled around their cruel weapons. Their hair was matted and plastered against their thick skulls, made them a sight to behold. A loud sound of a battle drum rolled out against the walls of Minas Anor, in it's unnatural pitch, congesting the air with it's putrid sound. Fingal opened his eyes and gave a smile with out amusement to Gondor.
"I shall miss thee, brother, when I see your blood on the stones of this great place, and
when I have given your blackened heart to the dark lord, Sauron,"