Here comes a snippet from the Umbar fic, that will eventually center around Imrahil's oldest sister. You might find a hint to a shared OC in it, too, although he won't actually appear. Five bonus points if you guess who it is.
Excerpt:
‘Twas the year 2968, in the Third Age of Arda, and – save from the occasional Corsair raid along Gondor’s coasts – Umbar had known relative peace for more than eighty years. At least where Gondor was considered. It had been less than fifteen years since the inland areas have been severely raided by the forces of Bakshir. The second-largest Haradric realm had even besieged Umbarlond itself, and it had taken First Consul Herucalmo great personal sacrifices – namely to send his own daughter to the kha-kan’s bed as a concubine – to placate the enraged Haradric warlord and persuade him to take his booty and go home.
That had led to a lasting peace between the two realms… at least until lately. For rumours had reached Lord Herucalmo that Kha-kan Isfhandijár had died in the previous year and his legitimate sons had driven out and killed all his concubines and their children. Which meant that Rothinzil was most likely dead, and they no longer had a supporter in the kha-kan’s house – whoever might be filling that particular office right now. That also meant that Umbar as a whole and Lord Herucalmo himself needed another strong ally to better their chances against their Haradric overlords.
****************** Lord Herucalmo was the one responsible for defences and warfare, while Second Consul Manwendil was supposed to care for trade negotiations and civilian affairs. It had been time-honoured tradition since the days of the Ancient Realm that Umbar would be ruled by a pair of consuls; mostly, yet not exclusively men of high birth and standing, as Ancient Númenórean right allowed a female child to follow her father in power if she was the firstborn.
These nobly-born rulers counted back their ancestry to the King’s Men of the Second Age, the ones called the Black Númenóreans by their Gondorian cousins. Never had one of them proclaimed him- or herself as the King or the Queen of Umbar, even though they’d considered themselves the true representatives of the last legal King of Númenor, regarding the Heirs of Nimruzîr (Elendil) as usurpers. Legend even spoke of some surviving relatives of the Line of Elros (or Ar-Gimilzôr, as they preferred to mention their ancestor) among the local nobles who claimed the governship.
Whether that had been true or not, no-one could tell all those millennia later. In any case, the overlords of the Haven had created a system that of the Ruling Stewards of Gondor not unlike, claiming to rule “in the King's absence”. By the King they meant Ar-Pharazôn the Golden, of course, whose rule they glorified, enshrouding the dark events of the past and magnifying the power and greatness of Westernesse in memory. Oddly enough, this attitude had led to the birth of a cult that foretold Ar-Pharazôn’s triumphant return from the West. Followers of that cult expected the King to reclaim the throne of the unified Reams in Exile – all three of them – in some distant future.
The current rules of the Realm, Lords Herucalmo and Manwendil, did not subscribe to this messianistic cult; nor did they join to that of the Death Eater, the revival of which they had watched with some consternation for quite some time by now. They were warlords and merchants, respectively, and did not want to tighten the leash binding them to Agannâlo – or to the Haradric realms – more than it would be inevitable. They had to consider their moves very carefully, though, for the number of Zigûr’s spies had been slowly yet steadily increasing in the recent years. They could almost literally feel the iron grip of Zigûr tightening around them. ‘Twas high time to seek out alternate routes that would not bind them quite so tightly to the fate of Agannâlo.
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branchandroot
Your wish is my command!
Date: 2011-10-02 01:02 pm (UTC)Excerpt:
‘Twas the year 2968, in the Third Age of Arda, and – save from the occasional Corsair raid along Gondor’s coasts – Umbar had known relative peace for more than eighty years. At least where Gondor was considered. It had been less than fifteen years since the inland areas have been severely raided by the forces of Bakshir. The second-largest Haradric realm had even besieged Umbarlond itself, and it had taken First Consul Herucalmo great personal sacrifices – namely to send his own daughter to the kha-kan’s bed as a concubine – to placate the enraged Haradric warlord and persuade him to take his booty and go home.
That had led to a lasting peace between the two realms… at least until lately. For rumours had reached Lord Herucalmo that Kha-kan Isfhandijár had died in the previous year and his legitimate sons had driven out and killed all his concubines and their children. Which meant that Rothinzil was most likely dead, and they no longer had a supporter in the kha-kan’s house – whoever might be filling that particular office right now. That also meant that Umbar as a whole and Lord Herucalmo himself needed another strong ally to better their chances against their Haradric overlords.
******************
Lord Herucalmo was the one responsible for defences and warfare, while Second Consul Manwendil was supposed to care for trade negotiations and civilian affairs. It had been time-honoured tradition since the days of the Ancient Realm that Umbar would be ruled by a pair of consuls; mostly, yet not exclusively men of high birth and standing, as Ancient Númenórean right allowed a female child to follow her father in power if she was the firstborn.
These nobly-born rulers counted back their ancestry to the King’s Men of the Second Age, the ones called the Black Númenóreans by their Gondorian cousins. Never had one of them proclaimed him- or herself as the King or the Queen of Umbar, even though they’d considered themselves the true representatives of the last legal King of Númenor, regarding the Heirs of Nimruzîr (Elendil) as usurpers. Legend even spoke of some surviving relatives of the Line of Elros (or Ar-Gimilzôr, as they preferred to mention their ancestor) among the local nobles who claimed the governship.
Whether that had been true or not, no-one could tell all those millennia later. In any case, the overlords of the Haven had created a system that of the Ruling Stewards of Gondor not unlike, claiming to rule “in the King's absence”. By the King they meant Ar-Pharazôn the Golden, of course, whose rule they glorified, enshrouding the dark events of the past and magnifying the power and greatness of Westernesse in memory. Oddly enough, this attitude had led to the birth of a cult that foretold Ar-Pharazôn’s triumphant return from the West. Followers of that cult expected the King to reclaim the throne of the unified Reams in Exile – all three of them – in some distant future.
The current rules of the Realm, Lords Herucalmo and Manwendil, did not subscribe to this messianistic cult; nor did they join to that of the Death Eater, the revival of which they had watched with some consternation for quite some time by now. They were warlords and merchants, respectively, and did not want to tighten the leash binding them to Agannâlo – or to the Haradric realms – more than it would be inevitable. They had to consider their moves very carefully, though, for the number of Zigûr’s spies had been slowly yet steadily increasing in the recent years. They could almost literally feel the iron grip of Zigûr tightening around them. ‘Twas high time to seek out alternate routes that would not bind them quite so tightly to the fate of Agannâlo.