Yours to Command

The Black Serpent

As the king rules his country, so the husband rules his house.
With firmness, wisdom and strength of purpose.
And as the nobles bow to the king, so the wife submits to her husband.
With obedience, humility and good cheer.

(Saying from Harad)

***

Muzgâsh stirred the coals in the brazier and blew gently. For a moment they flared up red-hot, blinking at him balefully like a dragon's eye. Whistling cheerfully under his breath, he drew a dagger from his belt and half buried it in the glowing coals.

That moment the sound of the door opening made him turn around. Two of his guards entered, each one holding on to an arm of the slight woman walking between them. Dwarfed by her escorts, she jutted her chin forward defiantly when they came to a halt in front of him.

Muzgâsh took his time looking her over, for so far he had only ever seen her briefly and from a distance. Pretty enough with the fair skin and dark hair so typical of Gondor. Large grey eyes dominated her face and the tight-fitting clothes hinted at quite delectable curves. The main thing, of course, was the noble blood she would pass on to her sons, but if Muzgâsh could get some pleasure out of doing his dynastic duty, so much the better. He let his glance linger on her chest, which rose and fell rapidly, although otherwise she seemed calm. Yes, she would do.

Even though he hadn't said anything yet, the princess seemed to feel his scrutiny. Muzgâsh could see her straining her senses, a vertical frown appearing between her eyes. Careful not to make a sound, he stepped forward and touched her gently on the cheek. She flinched violently and the two guards laughed.

Muzgâsh smiled. "Princess Lothíriel. Welcome."

"You are the leader of these men?" she demanded to know imperiously.

He chose to be amused. "Yes."

She lifted her head. "In that case I advise you to let me go at once. I'm warning you, when my father finds you, he will have you all executed."

Muzgâsh nearly laughed out loud at her belligerence. "That would be regrettable. Fortunately for us, your father won't find us."

"Oh yes he will. You are very much mistaken if you think there is any corner of Gondor obscure enough to hide you after what you've done."

When he started laughing she balled her hands into fists. "Just you wait, for you will find out that the Prince of Dol Amroth's arm has a long reach."

"Long enough to reach the City of Serpents?"

He thoroughly enjoyed the look of stupefaction on her face. "Haradrim?" she stammered.

"Yes indeed. I am called Muzgâsh." He could not resist adding the traditional Gondorian greeting. "Yours to command." The breath caught her in her throat, causing his men to chuckle.

But the princess soon recovered from her surprise. She frowned. "Well, I don't know what you have in mind, but let me tell you–"

"Enough!" he cut her off. "I do not have the time to bandy words with you at the moment. Later," he added suavely, "I will gladly attend to you at leisure."

His guards laughed again and the princess pressed her lips together. He did not miss the way she clenched her hands, though. Anger or fear? Then he frowned when he noticed how deeply her bonds had cut into her wrists.

Lifting her hands to have a closer look, he barked at his men. "What is this?"

Baran, the man on her left gave an uncomfortable shrug. "She was kicking and trying to get us with those claws of hers, so we bound her tightly."