“I was born to a woman named Sara Mosa," Eira began. "My name was Sari Mosa. Tell me, Seregrían, have you ever heard of the Nurnhoth?'
Seregrían's eyes darted back and forth, as if reading pages only she could see. “Nurnhoth... the folk of the Black Land... there is some lore that mentions them, chiefly chronicled among the men of Gondor.”
Eira nodded and continued. “My mother was one of them. I am her child, and I grew up beside the sea of Nurn, working the fertile soils with the rest of my kind to feed to armies of Gorgoroth. Yet, I had never known my father. But I would meet him, eventually, when I was nine.”
“You were parted from him?”
“Yes. But father was far from some other slave. He was the Black Númenorean Lord of our province, Lord Aglarzôr. I was the illegitimate child oh him and my mother. They were indeed in love, and she had requested that I grow up in Nurn instead of Gorgoroth. He granted that request. Until when I was nine…”
“And he came for you, this lord of the Moredain?”
“My father had no heir. He was childless and without a wife. Without someone to secure his throne, he was under the threat of losing everything. So, he grasped at straws. He grasped me. I was given a new name that day. I was Aglarari, the glorious queen. I was his heir to the family line.”
”And his claim was upheld, regardless of your parentage or birth. Surely others of nobility disputed his claim, and your relation to him?”
A chuckle. "He had a thing for the unorthodox. Many others loathed my position. Many cursed me as a Nurnhoth slave. And there was the first lesson my father taught me, to be fierce to my enemies and show no mercy.”
”Now you are Aglarari, heir to a Moradan lord…”
“He taught me that the slaves and servants below him were his, and my responsibilities. If they worked hard for us, we should reward them. But our enemies? Rivals within Mordor and the Free Peoples beyond the Black Gate? They deserved no such kindness. But I... I hated that life!”
“You possessed your father's visage, but your mother's heart.”
“I yearned for freedom. I was his heir, but I was still a slave to the war and sorcery that was beaten into me. And I never doubted my father's love. He defended me, and he made sure I was given only the best treatment from below ranks. And he still loved my mother. But there was evil, and there was wrath. I needed to escape that. And I eventually had the chance.
“On a mission outside the Black Gate, I was able to fake my death in an ambush from the Ithilien Rangers. After that, I was able to take on a new name, and new identity. I was Tacita then. I followed the story of a refugee with amnesia. They somehow bought it, and I was able to live a year in the farthest reaches of Gondor. But I still felt the Shadow of Mordor over me. I needed to escape. So I ran. I ran as far as I could until I reached Bree.”
“And are you Tacita, even now? Running still, for you hear the footsteps closing behind, do you not? How long has it been since you arrived, and how long before you sensed your pursuit?”
"Oh, I am not finished yet. I am not a natural blonde, for example. I soon met people I could trust. I met Demlemoth, who helped me to change my identity yet again. I dyed my hair blonde, and I used makeup to hide some scars and add freckles. I was Eira, who had grown up in tents in Emyn Uial. I met Ristinna, of Forochel, who has become a dear friend I desire to protect.”
“Ristinna - Ris - ah, the barmaid at the Prancing Pony.”
“I then met Egfor, a wonderful Dunlending and Rohirrim mix who has brought such a smile to my face and given me a job and a roof over my head. I met Nimraph, who like me was an escaped servant of the Enemy, but from Angmar. And I...” She looked away, a colored blush in her pale white cheeks.
“Say on... there is a name that moves you.”
“I worked at the Huntsman and the Stag, I had friends in Bree. I even met a man I wanted to woo, but just last night, the worse happened.” She paused, collecting herself. “Kalabnalu, one of the Black Númenorean spies who worked under my father, had somehow come here, and to the Huntsman and the Stag. He recognized me, despite my disguise. And he tried to kill me. But when I defeated him, he told me that he had told my father I was alive through crebain note. Then, he killed himself rather than give away any more secrets.
“So now, Aglarzôr knows I live. And what else can I do but run! When he would burn down the inn to find me, torture my friends, kill to make me pay for my betrayal... I had to run again. I had to protect my friends, my family. I have to protect them - even if it means turning myself in to my father!”
“You would reveal yourself to his agents, and he himself - you would endure his wrath, to save those who befriended you?”
“Yes. Yes I would. So tell me, Seregrían, what is my name? And what is my fate?” Seregrían sat back, clearly moved by the tale. After a silent moment she spoke.
