1. Blood of Your Enemies
My sister was five years old when she died, murdered when thousands of Uruk-hai overtook our village, devout in their quest to wipe men from the face of the earth. She was not alone, though. Many other people lost their lives that day, including my parents.
They came upon us without warning. We were unarmed, and ill prepared for an attack of that scale. Most were slaughtered, but some, like my family and I, were taken away, our deaths postponed.
My mother and father were bound and gagged, and thrown against a wall, as they were not needed—at the moment. The Uruk-hai grinned, though, when they saw my young sister, crying for my parents, and the look of horror that was painted upon my mother’s face. Screaming, my father fought against his bonds, but he could not get loose. My sister, E, was torn away from my father, and carried roughly toward a large uruk, who I presumed to be the leader.
Suddenly, I felt myself being pulled off the ground, and realized that I was meeting the same fate as my sister. “A,” E screamed, stretching her arms toward me, begging me to grab hold of her. “Make them stop it! It hurts! Help!” I tried to grab her hand, but a large cracking sound stopped me. Her hand now hung limply from its side, broken and unusable. She screamed in pain, and I gritted my teeth when I saw her tears. If I had the ability to do so, I would have killed them all, every last one of them.
“Get ready,” the large uruk answered, throwing several of his fellow soldiers spears and lances. He then walked toward E, and held her still. She looked at me, her blond hair disheveled, dirt covering her face, and tears streaming from her steel-blue eyes. Before I knew what was happening, the uruks’ weapons were flying through the air, and I was viewing my little sister impaled against the wall by enemy weapons.
“NO!” I screamed, not wanting it to be true. My mother stared at E’s body for several moments, and let out an anguished wail. She screamed every curse in our language before screaming even more. Trying to tear away the ropes that held him, my father seemed to me like a caged and tormented animal, longing to rip the flesh off its captor’s body.
I heard a whistling sound, like something cutting through the air, and my mother’s cries, and my father’s screams were suddenly quieted. Red liquid spouted everywhere, covering both me and the murders of my family.
“Now that you have felt the red blood of your enemies, what are you ready for?” the uruks’ leader screamed in question.
“Ready to taste their flesh, and fight for the Great Eye and the White Hand!” they answered loudly, in rehearsed voices. Now that they had proven themselves, they would kill my people.
Finally noticing me, again, the leader nodded toward another uruk, and handed him a lance. Please let it be swift, I thought, shaking violently. Something cold and metallic suddenly embedded itself into my stomach, and I only knew the dark. I’m coming, E, I thought. I’m coming.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.