A Forgotten Lineage
Disclaimer: Characters and Places belonging to JRR Tolkien are his property, characters belonging to me are mine. This was originally being written by multiple people on a forum. However they think I am someone else so they banned me, so any characters that resemble characters that were not mine from said forum... resemble them due to the fact I like their character flaws (which are not copywriteable), and because well apparently Gondorians are fairly similar in looks for the most part. This is not being done for money.
She was huddled down in a thread bare blanket her blue eyes sliding shut slowly then jerking open, fear keeping her awake. Fear, though not of the cold which chewed on her young bones endlessly while father was away, but of her father himself. He was late in returning from fishing, which meant the catch had not been good, and that meant that he would be angry. She had no doubt about that but she was tired, and hungry and cold and the fight to stay awake was one that her six year old body could not possibly win.
She awoke hours later crying out as pain shot through her right hand, she tried to pull it free but to no avail it was being ground under the heel of her very angry and very drunk father. When he finally teetered back off of her hand she snapped her arm in against her body and moved into the corner of the small hovel that was their home as he shouted at her in slurs that she did not understand as tears welled in her eyes from the pain radiating up her arm as she clutched at her clearly damaged hand. Suddenly she was hit with a ball of dirty clothing, it was rank of alcohol, urine, and fish at least though she knew what to do with it and picking up the smelly mass as best she could she fled the house, hoping that her father would settle down some by the time she was finished with the washing.
Several drunkards in the late night bumped into her as well as one guard that frowned at her as she stared up at him with sunken eyes and hollowed cheeks before she skittered away to the washing well before he could grab at her or try to find out why a child her age was out in the dead of a cold night. He would not have believed her anyways so it did not overly matter what he thought just that she managed to get away from him easily enough. Washing was a miserable experience, a thin layer of ice covered the well and she smashed at it with her left hand se she could get to the thin layer of water that lay underneath against a rough stone bottom. She tossed the clothing into the water and began to work as well as she could at cleaning the filthy clothing.
When she was finished the sun was staining the night sky already and her hands were both bluish, though the right was more purple than blue and both were numb though she could still feel a dull throbbing in her hand as she bundled up the wet clothing and held it tightly soaking her entire body for the most part before she headed home. She was shaking from the cold and her teeth chattering as she hoped father had started a fire so that his clothing would dry faster and she would as well. However as she headed down the street she could see that there was no smoke coming from the hovel which would tell her there was a fire, she sighed and trudged on. Maybe he would start one when she got home, not wanting to waste wood.
When she arrived she saw three men coming from the door one of them shouted back at her father who was bellowing something. She stood watching them looking up at them with frightened eyes, she had seen them a few times before; they were the only people that her father feared. The one man looked down at her his grey eyes cold and a smile on his face to match them reached down and gave her head a thump as one would a dog.
"You be a good little girl for your pa." He said with a chuckle and then he and the other men walked away while she stood there trembling watching them go until they disappeared round the corner before she headed into their home. She found her father sitting on his bed glaring daggers at the door his face bloodied and his top lip pulled back in a snarl. She edged away from him as best as she could, hanging his wet clothing up about the small fireplace. She could feel him watching her, his mind mulling over some thought, and she as not sure what was happening all she knew was that he was angrier now than he had been before she was afraid of what her punishment would be. She sat trembling as she hung up his last pair of pants to dry praying he would not hurt her other hand as he had her right hand. She had just started to turn when a strong hand grabbed the back of her neck causing a small squeak from her as she was half dragged from the house.
"Ya jusbe quiet an' keep yer eyes down." He snapped at her. "We've business at the Palace." She was confused by this as she was dragged along she tried her best to keep up but in the cold air she was shaking and her father's long strides out did hers easily and she was half running in an attempt not to anger him further. As they passed out of Middle Port, their home and into New Port she could see merchants and men of higher rank looking at the two of them. Her father looking beaten and dragging along a half starved child brought plenty of stares as they wound through the city.
"Keep yer eyes down, yer ta look at the boots an' no place else."
"Why?" It slipped out faster than she could stop it though normally she would never question her father, the fact she was being taken to the palace was something she had not dreamed would ever happen. Her head snapped sideways as her father's hand connected with it and she saw stars for a moment.
"They don't want to deal with a filthy little flea-bitten mot like you." He barked, she was silent though her face stung and was red where he had struck her she did not look up not even as they came closer and closer to the Palace quarters and it's neatly kept paths and gardens. The only reason she knew they were outside of the main city was because the path suddenly changed, from a dirty muddy mess to a white stone path. She twisted slightly wondering if they were leaving tracks however the grip about the back of her neck tightened and she hung her head submissively knowing it was for the best. Her father spoke with a man who motioned for him to go inside, telling him that the Prince would see him as the court was open today.
"Mind yer eyes mot." Her father hissed at her as he walked in dragging her about. She did not notice the man that he had spoken to was looking at her with concern. She did not know what she looked like to other people, she did not even know what she looked like herself. The guard followed them in though hoping that this man was looking to give away the child to the Prince not being able to feed her properly in these tough times, perhaps he was here to see if he could get money to tend to the girls hand, he could only see glimpses of it but he thought it looked like it had been trampled by a horse or crushed by a ship against a dock from her not being careful.
"Prince! A moment ferra faithful subjec'." Her father bellowed as she glanced at the floor it had gone from white stone to a brightly polished white stone and she was staring at this pretty white stone wondering how it got so shiny and she tried to look back to see if they had left dirty marks as they came in. Her father's grip tightened once more and a small whimper escaped her. A few other guards moved in immediately noticing that the man was slurring his words and drunk which could make him dangerous. Not to mention they could see his fingers digging into an already thin neck bruises forming already on the pale but dirty skin. She shrank away from them clinging with her left hand to her father as boots polished to a shine came near her. She was afraid of them, she could see that they left no dirt behind and she wondered for a moment if those boots would make her disappear if they kicked her.
"For a faithful subject, I can give a moment." Came the reply and suddenly they started forward once more she was shaking hard Her father stumbled down onto one knee right before some stairs she tried to as well but lost her balance and reached out to catch herself with her hands and cried out as pain jolted through her damaged hand. There was a small gasp from just behind from the Knight that had followed them in, the Prince noticed as well though she did not see him stiffen at the sight before she managed ti tuck her wounded hand back safely against her chest. "And what is it that you need my subject." The words were carefully chosen as the court watched the battered child with horror.