sorrow for sea-fare by Ermingarden

sorrow for sea-fare

And it came to pass, while the wood of Nimloth burned, that Tar-Míriel – who had ever loved the night-blossoming Tree – slipped from the palace, and came in secret to the westward shore. She knelt upon the sands, and wept, and her tears fell into the foam. 

And lo! She heard a voice not of the kindred of Men, but like the lapping of waves. Strange it was, but kind, and the voice said: "Míriel, Tar-Míriel, why do you weep?" 

"They have burned the White Tree," she answered, and bowed her head in shame. 

At her words, the waves stilled in grief, and the squawking gulls fell silent. 

"Daughter of Tar-Minyatur, that is an evil thing," spoke the sea-foam and the salt breeze, "and this an evil place where it was done. Will you not come away from here?" 

"Where shall I go, that evil will not follow me?" she asked. 

"Come with me," sighed the shifting sands, "for you are dear to me." And the sea-foam formed of itself a beckoning hand, outstretched onto the shore. 

Tar-Míriel shook her head. 

"I shall not abandon my people." 

But she clasped the Sea's hand in hers, and held it as she wept. 

~*~

And it came to pass, while the ships of Ar-Pharazôn darkened the sea, and all the talk in Armenelos was of war, that Tar-Míriel put aside her queenly jewels, and came in secret to the eastward shore. She sat alone, and wept, and her tears fell upon the waves. 

"Míriel, dear Míriel, why do you weep?" came the whisper of the Sea, like salt-spray against the rocks. 

"They are making war on the Lords of the West, dear friend," she answered. 

A wave broke on the rock where Míriel sat, and she closed her eyes against the spray. But instead of cold droplets, she felt a warm kiss pressed upon her brow. 

"An evil greater than the last," mourned the Sea. "Now will you come away with me?" 

"Where would you take me?" Míriel asked. 

"There are caverns beneath the waves like palaces, and corals brighter than gems. There are forests of seaweed, and fish swim among their leaves like shining birds. Daughter of the land, will you not come?" 

"I am the daughter of Tar-Palantir, and I shall not abandon my people," she said, but not so firmly as before. 

"Though they abandon you?" 

And Tar-Míriel made no answer. 

~*~

And it came to pass, when Ilúvatar sundered Valinor from Middle-earth, and the doom of Númenor rose as a great wave in the west, that Tar-Míriel ran from the palace and climbed the Meneltarma, wishing to stand in the sacred place once more before she died. 

From the slope of the holy mountain she saw the Sea rise. It overwhelmed the empty quays where Pharazôn's fleet had anchored, and the fertile plains sloping toward the shore, and swallowed at last the proud towers of Armenelos. 

Then Míriel knew that she alone upon the isle yet lived, and as rightful queen of Númenor she was queen of nothing and no one. And she wept bitterly. 

She stood in silence upon the Meneltarma as the wave hastened on to meet her, until at last, when she tasted the salt-spray of the Sea with every breath, she cried aloud: 

"I will go with you." 

The mighty wave embraced her, and bore her to the bosom of the Sea, who took Tar-Míriel forever beyond the sight of mortal Men. And what doom awaited her, no mortal tongue can tell; but it may be she dwells in the house of Uinen, who loves her yet.