Black Numenoreans

A crimson and black dress was adorned on a young girl, barely eleven years of age. She was dressed like dark royalty, wearing a black crown upon her head. Her hair had grown long, neatly brushed back in curled locks. Her skin was white like snow. Her eyes were a dark gold brown. Seated upon a throne far larger than her, she held a sorcerer's scepter in her little hands, gazing out the red stain glass windows in the dark throne room belonging to her father.

Seregrian continued to eat, saying "But come, Eira, begin your tale while we dine."

She was leaving.

She worked in the kitchen, preparing blueberry muffins. She had ordered a lot of blueberries recently and had already brewed blueberry ale. As she worked, the teasing questions of her boss, and friend, echoed in her mind.

"Do I sense something more than friendship?"

Due to her Nurnhoth blood, Eira's skin was naturally a deathly pale. Yet, her cheeks noticably had color as she allowed the muffins to cool.

The torches of the black room illuminated them, on the steps to his throne. The Black Numenorean Lord, powerful and mighty, held a scrawny woman in heavy robes. He was tender in his embrace, soft and kind. She was his willing captive, fallen into his arms. The torches flickered as they stood in solitude. No one was here to see him weak, and to see him be weak with a slave. A high ranking, well off slave, but still a slave.

He asked her the same question once again.

Once they arrived at Esteldin, the rain had stopped and the morning sun was shining through the grey clouds. The rangers trudged up the muddy path to the hidden stronghold, dragging the heavy bound orc with them.