The tall, looming steel of the walls stood, strong and unbreaking. They could not, would not, ever break. Imposing, choking, the massive walls towered up to the heavens. Yet, even the heavens were barred. Putrid, heavy clouds of rolling ash choked out any feeling of light from above. She was left, on the ground, cold and enslaved.
She was a slave.
She always had been, always would be. Trapped in this hell.
Yet, a girl could dream. Chained in foreboding, black steel armor, the young woman reached up. A gauntlet covered hand reached for the sky, the clouded, black skies. She reached up, dreaming. She dreamt of something different, something new. Something colorful, not like these barren ash lands. She dreamt of light, pure sunlight like she had been lucky to live under a long time ago, in Nurn. But even the seaside of Nurnen was a prison. She reached up, but she found no rescue. She was still stuck here. She always had been, always would be. Trapped in this hell.
Her father's words echoed in her mind. "I told your mother this a long time ago, and now I'm telling you. We are all slaves here. We all are hopelessly bound to the will of our glorious Dark Lord. We are all prisoners and sufferers. We all answer to a master, even me. All we can hope to do is climb the ladder, for an ounce of comfort while we live."
She was brought out of her thoughts when footsteps could be heard from behind. She turned, her boots scuffing up arid ash and dirt. Two Black Numenoreans were talking to each other, in Aduniac, as they guarded the wagons of food being unloaded by Nurnhoth slaves.
"Guarding food wagons. What a pitiful job. We could be fighting Gondorians right now..."
"Indeed! These slaves are not worth an inch of protecting! Look at these fools, so pathetic!"
A Nurnhoth man, bone thin and weak, heaved heavy sacks of grain across the dirt street, to the overseer standing at one of the watch towers where food was stored. His knees wobbled as he struggled at a snail's pace. Aglarari rolled her eyes and looked back up to the sky. It was nearing the end of the morning, and sunlight would soon peak in from beyond. She so badly yearned to see it. That was why she personally came on this rations run.
Behind her, the guards continued to speak. One of them scoffed in disgust, "And to think, the worst part of it all! We are under the command of one of those sla-"
The second guard gasped, whispering in a hushed tone, "Gologdor! She could hear you-"
"-A Half-Nurnhoth rabe, the heir to our lord's throne? What a joke!"
"Gologdor!"
"Is there no shame amongst us, the true heirs of Numenorean glory, anymore? We've become soft like those hybrid Gondorians, sleeping with lower men!"
Aglarari had heard enough. She turned, walking closer to the two guards. The wiser one looked over to her with sheer terror causing him to shake. Gologdor turned to look at her, gulping down his pride and taking on the usual salute, "Mistress Aglara-"
Too late to pretend he had not spoken. A sword was drawn and thrust into his gut while he addressed her. His visor covered his eyes, but his exposed mouth contorted with shock and panic for life.
"You know not to curse me, soldier." Aglarari spat quietly, "Or you pay with your life."
Gologdor opened his mouth, "I-"
She ripped the sword from his stomach and sliced his head off. No chance. No mercy. As blood splattered and Gologdor's head thudded against the ground, she turned to the remaining guard and pointed her red stained sword at him, "Got it?"
The quivering, remaining guard gulped before saluting her, "Yes, Mistress Aglarari!"
She lowered her sword, scoffing, "That's what I thought."
She turned, looking back up to the clouds. Tiny specs of sunlight were blooming through glowing, orange clouds. She gaped, waiting in awe for the sun. Yet, more footsteps resounded from behind her, and an orc called, "Mistress!"
Aglarari reluctantly turned away from the Black Gate, "What?"
The orc sounded panicked, "A fight broke out in the twenty seventh battalion!"
Aglarari froze, knowing that the clouds were about to break. But...
Her father's words continued to resound in her memory, "I can hope for something deeper. I can hope for love. I saw something in Sara, and I see it in you."
She looked down to the sword in her hand, knowing her duty was to quench any infighting in her father's forces.
"But Sara left me. She chose Nurn over the love I gave her. And I know that, if I train you rightly, you will choose your duty and crown over any bond we share. We have nothing to do but climb the ladder, the slaves we are. I have nothing to do, but to please our Dark Lord Sauron at any cost."
Aglarari swept her sword into a ready stance, "Lead the way, worm."
As they left, sunlight peaked through the clouds. Gloriously bathing the Black Gate's hostile landscape in sunlight, causing stray orcs to run and hide in the shadows. Aglarari was already leaving, too busy to gaze upon her favorite part of the day. For she was a slave, chained to this darkness that warped her. She miserably attended to her duties, as expected. That was the way it always had been, always would be. Until she died toiling away for Lord Sauron, she would fight for her place as her family's next in line, regardless of her being a half breed bastard. She always had been, always would be. Trapped in this hell.
