Drabbles: The Silmarillion and Unfinished Tales by Zdenka

Concealment

Written for tolkien_weekly, prompt "Petrology: slate" (Tar-Míriel, Tar-Palantir)

“Hide your thoughts beneath the surface, Míriel,” her father had said as they walked together over the grey and purple slate that lined the path to the beach in Andúnië. “Let them swim deep and silently but never be caught. The Court is not a safe place for us now.”

“The Lady Zimraphel, daughter of the King’s Heir.”

Míriel crossed the marble floor of the King’s Court, imagining it was slate and white sand. As she smiled graciously and made the proper obeisance before Ar-Gimilzôr the King, she made her eyes reflect everything and reveal nothing, like the dancing waves.

Chapter End Notes

Inspired by thinking about the dates in "The Line of Elros" from Unfinished Tales. Míriel was sixty years old when her father took the throne, and thus she must have grown up in the reign of Ar-Gimilzôr who was “the greatest enemy of the Faithful that had yet arisen.”