I was relaxing after a stressful day in the Pony with a cup of hot tea. A vaguely familiar green and brown dress caught my eyes. The woman wearing the dress was dragging behind her what appeared to be a half-Harad child, barely seven summers old. The child had matted and tangled hair, it's clothes were but mere rags while it's mother wore elaborate, expensive dresses. The poor thing look half starved, and bore bruises upon it's face.
When I said that the woman was dragging the child, I meant it. She hauled the poor thing along by it's wrist, and not too gently either. She spotted my staring at her and swooped over to me with a shriek, akin to a banshee. I winced. I knew who this was, sadly. Belbien. A whore from Rohan. I remember I spent one night with her. One night. Surely that can't be my child...
Bel stopped in front of me, still dragging that child. I was internally laughing at her. Age and 'motherhood' got ahold of her. Her hips were widened from childbirth and she has gained weight. Her already impressively large bosom was even larger. I could see the seams of her dress straining from the effort of holding her chest... What little of it was actually in the dress. I swear if she had anymore skin showing, she may as well be nude. She stormed up in my face, her bosom almost upsetting my tea, which at that point, she was way too close for comfort. I leaned away from her to save my tea.
She shrieked again, causing me to wince, "Look! Look what you did! You filthy desert rat! You mudskin! You... You... Gave me THIS!" With that, she whirled around and backhanded the child in the face, causing it to fly backwards with a whimper.
That made my blood boil. I may not me the best man, I may be a criminal, but the one thing I will NEVER stand for is the abuse of a child. I promptly set my teacup down and rose to my feet, raw anger coursing through my veins like fire. I looked her in the eye and growled, "Get. Out. Leave the child with me, and get out." By this time, we had garnered the attention of several patrons. Good. Very good.
Bel shrieked again and slapped me in the face, "You ruined my career! You tit! You imbecile!" I remained stoic and cold even after getting slapped. I laughed at her, "What career?! You are a whore and a prostitute! That's all you ever were and will be. Now leave before I lose my temper."
The wretched woman quieted for a brief moment. She looked around and looked at the angry mob, the mob that saw her strike the child. She huffed and shrieked one last time before storming away.
I turned at once and went to the child.... My child. The child raised it's eyes and spotted me, the first dark skinned man it has seen. The man whose skin and hair colour were very similar to its own. I was caught by surprise as I was met with a young face and eyes that were exactly like my own many years ago. Those pale, blue eyes held the same fear of being struck that mine did as a child.
I opened up my arms to it, and my child scrambled into the protective embrace of its father. I picked the child up and stood. I walked towards the tavern keep and asked him quietly for a nice hot meal. I balance the child with one arm and the tray of food with the other. I returned to the table, where my abandoned tea was. I let the child onto the bench beside me and pushed the tray towards it. The kid looked up to me with wide eyes then finally whispered, "I-Is that for... m-me?"
I nodded, "Aye. All for you." The child stared back at the food and immediately began to eat. I studied the child as it ate. The child ate with speed and vigor. this confirmed my suspicion. Bel starved the poor thing. I made a vow to myself that I would treat this child the best it could ever want, way better than Bel ever did. This was my child after all.
I softly spoke up at one point, "What is your name, child?" The child spoke up through a mouthful of food; even then, it's Rohirric accent was prominent, "Ma ne'er gave me one... She always called me a bad boy." My heart sank and rose at the same time. This blew away the question about the child being a boy or girl. I got to choose the kids name. He tilts my head and cradled my teacup in my hand. After a long moment of silence I inquired, "How does the name Ikrimah sound?" The child paused eating again. He smiled at me and grinned, "I like it Pa!" I couldn't help but smile at his cheerfulness, despite his rough past.
I hid a frown with a sip of my tea. This child's innocence will be corrupt in the future. Corrupt by Bree, gold, women and lust, alcohol, and me...
