She panted heavily, the sword trembling in her hands as sweat and blood dripped off her. The nine year old had never been in so much pain in her life. She looked up, her father shook his head in that calm cold disappointment. "Most of the blood on your body is your own. Child, you need to learn to be ruthless."
The orcs prowling around her were ready for another round, awaiting their master's orders to pounce. The girl shuddered, she did not want to be ruthless! She did not want to hurt anyone or anything! She just wanted to go home to Nurn. Yet, already she knew that what she wanted did not matter. She was Aglarzor's heir, Aglarari, and she was a Black Numenorean.
Instead of allowing the orcs to cut her again, however, Aglarzor lifted his hand to halt them, "We have trained enough today."
Relief flooded the girl's senses as she limped after him, out of the metal pit he used to train her. As they climbed out, she looked up to one of the Black Numenorean liutenants, who was sneering at her. She shivered and followed her father up the thin flight of stairs, to the above. As she bled onto the steps, then the walkway, she heard a laugh from behind her. Her father turned around, and she did to, to the liutenant.
"My lord, you cannot honestly think she has the guts?"
Aglarari took a step back, afriad of these men. They always taunted her.
The liutenant chuckled mockingly, "You trust a bastard child to your throne! Pitiful! How far have you fallen?" He looked down at her, "You are a Nurnhoth slave, through and through. You are weak."
Aglarari shook her head, whispering in distress "No..."
He laughed again, "You are slumped over like a slave. Why don't you go down to the pit and clean the slop of your blood! You much more are fit to carry chains than a sword."
Exhausted, and tiring if these relentless jabs, she looked down. "Stop it..."
"Why, you should eat sulokil grub, bury yourself in orc waste! You are nothing! Your weak willed father will lose all he has."
She looked down at the blood and sweat pounding against the floor, feeling the pounding in her chest.
"He will be demoted, exiled, and all will be stripped from him. Land given to other lords, slaves sold."
Images of Nurn, and her mother, flickered in her mind. The image painted was horrible.
"And it will be your fault. Nurnhoth scum."
Something inside snapped.
She looked up to the Black Numenorean, rage burning between the tears in her eyes. "I said-" she darted forth, "Stop it!"
The sickening feeling vibrated through her body. The revolting sound. Her sword pierced his chest. Aglarari gasped as his blood splattered onto her face. As he fell, his corpse crashing against the floor, she gasped in terror. She had just... killed...
"Child."
Her eyes widened. Still holding the blade, she turned to her father with shock, confusion, and weakness in her body. She looked up from the corpse to see him... smiling.
"Well done." He walked up to her, reaching out. Aglarari winced before he placed a tender hand on her shoulder, "I had been awaiting the day you would defend us against such doubting scum."
Struggling to breathe properly, she looked into his approving eyes.
"You are well on your way to becoming my heir, Aglarari."
