Not the imprisoned moonlight welling through the marble walls of Minas Ithil long ago, Tower of the Moon, fair and radiant in the hollow of the hills.
All was dark about it, earth and sky, but it was lit with light. Upon the further side, some way within the valley's arms high on a rocky seat upon the black knees of the Ephel Dúath, stood the walls and tower of Minas Morgul.
A long-tilted valley, a deep gulf of shadow, ran back far into the mountains.
