Through the Darkness Unescapable by Valiniel

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Part Three: Fate Unescapable - Chapter 12: The Return

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The Return

Rómenna

3262, Second Age

Míriel stood on the docks, watching as the fleet approached Rómenna's grand harbor. Cool autumn winds drifted in off the ocean and stirred the banners that hung victoriously all around her. An attendant carried her own banner, a silver swan before a white tree embroidered on a field of blue, with silver stars shining overhead. Soon, Pharazôn's banner would fly beside it, a glorious red and gold announcement of his great victory. She was smiling confidently now. Her people were safe and she had discovered a new found power that banished much of the darkness she thought had clouded her life.

Pharazôn would return, and now she would have his ear. This victory had no doubt confirmed his faith in her wisdom. When it came time to order the creation of colonies, he would heed her advice. Elendil had expressed his concerns over the colonies time and time again, but soon he would see that there was nothing to be concerned about. She had not told him of her plans, so doubtless he suspected that it was some plot of Pharazôn's that stemmed from the king's will to dominate. Perhaps someday she would tell her cousin that it was she who meticulously plotted the downfall of Sauron. For now, however, she had merely tried to allay his suspicions.

She had been elated when she received a message from the king. He had sent a small boat ahead with but three sailors aboard. They had given her a very short note from the king and left as soon as they had completed their task. Míriel was hungry for more news of the victory, for her husband's message had been brief, concealing much.

"My beloved Zimraphel- I return to you victorious, and I bring with me a prize greater than you will ever guess. All will be revealed to you upon my return. Prepare a great celebration for our homecoming! If I could see you as I sail into Rómenna, it would bring me great joy. Ever yours, Ar-Pharazôn, King of Men"

Now she was here, watching his flagship approach. The red sails stood out against the blue sky, and the people were already cheering for the returning soldiers. Patriotism had filled Númenor upon news of her victory over an age-old enemy. The Faithful and the King's Men rejoiced together, united for a moment through a common cause. It was a miracle, Míriel thought to herself. We have done a thing that even a mighty kingdom of elves could not do.

When at last the ship reached the harbor, she could see her husband standing proudly before his men. He resembled a great king of men indeed. The queen looked on him and knew that there would be songs and stories about this day, when Ar-Pharazôn returned victorious to Númenor. It was a great moment in their history, and soon she would have the full account of it. The King was the first to descend onto the docks, and he looked infinitely pleased with himself.

"Welcome home, my lord King," Míriel said aloud, her words met with wild cheers.

"I return victorious!" he announced, more to the excited crowd than to his wife. As soon as this formality was done, he turned his attention to her. "Let us retire to the royal villa," he told her. "There is much I want to tell you." He offered her his arm and she took it. The men began to leave the ship, each of them searching for family or friends that stood amongst the crowd. Through it all walked Númenor's king and queen, both of them proud and content.

They entered the royal villa, which was located near the shore. It was one of the many houses the royal family owned on Númenor, and one of the grandest save the palace in Armenelos. The marble pillars supported the great tiled roof, and the fragrances of the garden trees drifted in the large windows. Míriel led her husband up the curving staircase. After a walk down a rather long hall, Pharazôn opened the door for her and they both stepped into the master bedroom.

Míriel had never been here before this year, but she already loved it. It almost reminded her of Andustar, with the sound of the sea outside her window. She looked out the window, which faced towards the sea. There were so many ships still coming into harbor, the vast army of Númenor returning home at last. Unexpectedly, her husband came up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her close to him.

"I have missed you, Zimraphel," he said simply, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. Míriel did not pull away from him immediately. She had to confess that while he had been gone, it had been as if something were missing in her life. Although she bore no love for him, no longer did she entirely hate him, either. He had become a constant in her life, and his absence had left her feeling incomplete somehow. His presence now filled the odd void that had been left when she watched him sail away.

She let a few moments pass before stepping away from him and turning to face her husband. "Tell me everything now, Pharazôn. I have waited many months to hear about your campaign." He smiled.

"Very forward of you, my dear," Pharazôn mused. He went over and sat down on the bed. "However, I suppose your patience ought to be rewarded." Míriel gave him a satisfied smile and settled herself on a chaise near the bed, waiting for him to begin.

"We sailed to Umbar. The weather was uncommonly good. Never have I sailed on such quiet seas. Even the wind seemed to heed our wishes." The queen was glad to hear that her prayers had not been unheeded. She begged Lady Uinen to bless the ships' passage for days after they left the harbor. Pharazôn continued his narrative, the excitement building in his voice.

"When we reached Middle-earth, all fled before us. Our enemies dared not even face us. None dared challenge a power so great. For seven days we marched, driving Sauron's forces back as we went. I came to a great hill, and commanded the men to set up the tents. You should have seen them, Zimraphel… It was a vast sea of blue and white and gold. Everywhere was the glint of armor and bright sword blades. They put up a high throne for me, and I looked over the land and thought of what you said to me. I knew that we had the power to bend all the world to our will. That is what we did, love. We put forth our strength, and not even Sauron himself dared stand against us."

Míriel's smile faded. She had expected Sauron to at least defend his land against the invading force. He had been gathering his strength in order to make war on them. It did not make sense that he had merely given up when threatened. "And what of Sauron?" she asked tersely. "Did he engage you in battle?"

"His was the way of a coward. I remember your warning about him from your lore and old tales. He truly is a coward, always fleeing or surrendering when he knows that he is bested. When we sent his miserable creatures fleeing back to their master, I am sure that he knew who the true King of Men was!" Pharazôn's voice was filled with pride, and fear and doubt began to push their way into her mind. There was more to this story than her husband was telling her.

"What did he do?" she asked bluntly.

"He surrendered to me. He came down from his tower to the camp where we waited and laid down his claims on Middle-earth." It could not have been so easy, Míriel thought to herself. What could have made him abandon all the land he had conquered?

Pharazôn frowned as he watched his wife's face contort with confusion. He stood and went over to where she sat. As he took her hand he spoke to her, and Míriel thought he had a strange and prideful look in his eyes. "Come with me, my love, and I will show you something you have never even dreamed of." She got up and followed him, her confusion growing with every step.

He led her down the stairs and out of the villa. They were headed back towards the harbor where the king's flagship was still docked. She was led up the plank onto the ship, and then down into the rooms beneath the deck. There were soldiers everywhere, and the atmosphere aboard the vessel made the queen nervous. She could sense a danger that grew with every step she took. Pharazôn's hand seemed to burn as it pulled her onwards, and at last she stopped.

"What do you have aboard this ship?" she demanded of her husband, pulling her hand out of his. Pharazôn, surprised by this sudden outbreak, said only a few words and continued down towards a small room surrounded by soldiers.

"You will soon see." Hesitantly, Míriel approached the room, the danger becoming more and more tangible. Even the men guarding the room looked nervous, as if they could feel the danger as well.

"Make way for the King!" one of the guards yelled. More men swarmed around their lord as one of the officers took out a key. The door was unlocked, and the guards took their place in front of the king. The door opened, and Míriel heard a smooth voice coming from the inside of the room.

"Do not look so frightened. I will do no harm to you or to your king. Let him approach me without fear." The guards parted to allow Pharazôn to look into the room. Others escorted the queen over to stand beside her husband. Her feet moved, even though her mind screamed for her not to take another step. When she looked into the room, the sense of danger and fear became overwhelming.

He was sitting on a small wooden chair, looking at them with an expressionless face. His black hair was long, in a different style than the men of Númenor kept it, and he had no beard. There was an almost elven quality to him, and she could tell that he possessed both grace and wisdom. Fierce green eyes burned into her when his gaze settled on her. She saw the slight sneer that curled his lips as he looked at her.

"We meet at last, Queen Zimraphel of Númenor." He stood and bowed humbly, but she was not fooled. The bow was only to mock her, and his polite words were in no way sincere.

"I am surprised that you expected to meet me. I only expected to rejoice when I heard that Sauron the Abhorred had been utterly destroyed." His eyes indicated that he had much the same opinion of her, although his manner remained polite.

"I am destroyed," he answered carefully. "I have accepted my defeat and sworn allegiance to Númenor's king. And to its queen as well."

"I want none of your allegiance," she spat. "I would not be so shamed."

"Your words wound me, and yet they are not unexpected. Truly you are the likeness of Lúthien, for she spoke with the same sharpness."

"You remember then, how Lúthien threw down your tower? Then beware provoking the wrath of her children, for we are no less perilous!" With that, she stormed away, cursing under her breath. The guards hurried to lock the door again, and Pharazôn hurried after her. Míriel felt all the fear turn to anger.

When her husband caught up with her, she leveled him with a glare so fierce that even the great king was fearful. "Why?" It was only one word, and yet it was filled with hatred, contempt, and fear. Pharazôn struggled long for an answer to give her.

"I… I thought it wise," he finally responded.

"Wise? How is it wise to bring such danger to our realm? You know how powerful he is! He is a Maia, Pharazôn!" Her husband began to get angry with her.

"Were you not the one who told me that the power of Men could overthrow even the mighty Maiar?" he demanded. "I have reasons for what I have done. You are no longer my sovereign, and I am no longer your captain. I am the King of Númenor, and my will shall be done without question!"

"Even if it brings danger down on all your people?" she spat back.

"It will not." He seemed so confident in his actions. Míriel wondered if that foolish over confidence would one day be his undoing. Pharazôn would not see what he did not want to see. Instead of storming away, he persisted in explaining his actions. No matter how much he thundered that he did not care what she thought, he would not be satisfied until she agreed with him.

"Don't you see, Zimraphel? What could I accomplish by defeating him in Middle-earth and leaving him there? He would only rebuild his forces and become a threat once more. Time and time again he has been defeated, and he always returns. Why? It is because he is always left to his own devices once the victory is achieved. Never before has anyone taken steps to prevent any future aggression. I intend to keep Sauron here on Númenor, where he will be under our eye. We can create a prison for him from which he cannot break free. I will not let him return to his dominion in Middle-earth and threaten us again."

She wanted to distrust her husband's words, but as they ran through her mind, they began to make sense. He had not acted out of pride, but with wisdom and forethought. Now she did not know what to think of the situation. All she knew was that a sense of fear and foreboding was growing within her. She only shook her head, sending him the clear message that she would not condone his action. Pharazôn's patience was gone, and he stormed out onto the deck. Míriel remained, watching the guards.

Although reason told her that the king's words made sense, her intuition spoke differently. When she had sent her husband to Middle-earth, she had not expected this to occur. Her own pride had brought this on, as much as his pride had. She shivered with an unknown fear. Suddenly, the sounds of the waves outside intensified, and Míriel thought she could hear the wind howling mournfully. She closed her eyes and willed it all away. "What have I done?"