Far Off Thoughts
The court yard of the Kings House was bathed in the orange light of the setting sun. The ending of the day heralded the blossoming of Nimloth, tree of the Kings of Númenor. In the stillness of the dusk Nimloth awoke, bringing forth the white flowers for which it was known. Time seemed to slow as the perfume of these flowers was released into the air, caught upon the wind and floated down to the people of Armenelos. The great wooden doors opened spilling candle light into the court yard yet this light was soon blocked as a figure emerged from the House, closing the door behind him.
Tar-Palantír walked toward Nimloth and allowed its perfume to wash over him, relaxing him in a way that could not be duplicated by the craft of Men, even the Men of Númenor. In these troubled times the King sought many ways to calm himself so he could best discover the will or Eru and hear the words of Manwë calling to him on the winds out of the West. He raised one of his work worn hands and held a flower of Nimloth in his hand, contemplating how a thing of such beauty could be so simple to the eyes.
In the shadows a hooded figure, tall and proud, moved silently so as not to disturb the King in his thought.
‘Why have you come to this place, Lord Elrond of Imladris?’ Tar-Palantír said, his gaze never leaving the flower. The darkened figure appeared to be slightly taken aback at these words but never the less Elrond came into the light, removing the cloak as he came. The old King turned to the Elf and smiled: ‘I did not call myself “far-sighted” without reason, Uncle’.
The Elf looked curiously at Tar-Palantír for a moment and saw that there was truth in his words, he was still related to the Kings of Númenor through his brotherhood with Elros. ‘I come because I wish to know the future of Westernesse. What shall become of the Land of Gift when you leave this world behind? The Faithful are fighting a losing battle I fear’.
The King stared at Elrond for a time before turning and walking to the balcony that overlooked Armenelos and much of the Isle of Númenor. He stood looking at his realm before answering the Elven Lord. ‘You speak as though the battle were already lost, Lord Elrond. There are more Faithful with each setting of the sun. Our kin shall see the error of their ways in time’.
‘How much time do you need? You are not long for this world as you well know. What would happen if one not of like mind ascends the throne and takes the Sceptre of Númenor? All will come to ruin for the Lords of the West will not tolerate their Gift being used so.’
‘All these things may indeed come to pass. It is true that I am not long for the world,’ Tar-Palantír said with a heavy heart. He cast his over to his house and he seemed to be raised slightly, ‘yet I do not fear for the safety of Númenor for my daughter, Míriel, shall take my place and I know she shall continue my works and purpose.’
Now Elrond walked to the balcony and looked out upon the city himself and his eyes fell on the dwelling of Gimilkhâd. ‘What of your brother, and his son Pharazôn, they oppose you as much as they can in open speech and it is rumoured yet more in secret. Could your daughter prevent either usurping?’ At these words Tar-Palantír looked gravely at Elrond, speaking in a tone that betrayed his true feelings.
‘I know my brother and nephew do not believe as I and the Faithful believe but they are honourable Men. They would not break the law of Númenor which has governed all since your brother walked these shores.’
‘I know the law, Eldameldo
, but you know as well as I that the hearts of Men can be easily turned to dark thoughts’.
Tar-Palantír took a deep breath as if to retort against the Elven Lord but he caught himself before he spoke, he did not wish to begin an argument with Elrond.
‘It is true that some of our Kin have turned to dark thoughts but that is not the way of the Númenoreans. Even with their backs turned to the Valar and Maiar my people know the darkness that Morgoth wrought, and what Sauron may yet cause,’ He gestured to Armenelos behind him, ‘we are thankful for what Eru gave us, this Land of Gift, and I tell you that we shall not forsake this land; Even after my death.’
Tar-Palantír could feel his anger rising, it was only heightened by the calmness in Elrond’s face as if the Elf had expected the King to prove his words with his own. He retreated to Nimloth and once more took in its beauty.
‘You see that even you rise to anger with speed, Inziladûn. Can even you not see what is in the future for Westernesse?’ The Elven Lord had used the Kings Adûnaic name to measure his remaining anger. Tar-Palantír did not rise to the challenge; he had no wish to prove his point any further. So he measured himself and answered the question calmly.
‘There are things yet far off in thought that I can not see, Heru
. The darkness is gathering in Arda and it clouds my vision. I can only but guess to the fate of Númenor from the images I can glimpse in the darkness.’
A silence filled the courtyard as Elrond and Tar-Palantír allowed it to say what the two of them wished not to. Strong winds out of the West blew over Armenelos and Tar-Palantír could see much of the light in the city flicker as the candles were extinguished by the forces of the West. Tar-Palantír could see by the look upon Elrond’s face, it was obvious the meeting was over.
‘I shall take my leave Eldameldo
may the light of the Eärendil protect you and your people.’
‘I pray that he will Lord Elrond. Your father, I see, still cares greatly for this Island and the people’ Tar-Palantír said as he motioned his arm toward the sky, pointing out Eärendil in the fading light of the Sun. The Elven Lord looked upon the light for a time before moving once more into the shadow, leaving the Isle of Westernesse.
Tar-Palantír was left alone in the fading light with his thoughts. Allowing his mind to wander he view things long past and far off. He still could not fully perceive what was in Númenor’s future, only flashes of imagery. A powerful fleet of Gold, harboured in the ports of Númenor preparing for war; but with who they were going to war with Tar-Palantír could not see for the darkness of evil had grown great.
The King sighed, he could only trust in the Valar and Eru to look over his people after he had departed from the world. He was alone with his thoughts for a time before the wooden doors of his house opened once more, and Míriel entered the courtyard. She walked over to her father, placing a hand on his shoulder she said: ‘Atar
, mother sent me to fetch you inside. It is almost time for supper.’
He smiled and placed his own hand upon hers. ‘I shall be in shortly Míriel, go help your mother’. His daughter looked at him for a moment with a concerned look but it quickly vanished as she nodded and returned inside. Leaving the King alone in the courtyard with the fully blossomed Nimloth, for the Sun had set and Númenor had come to darkness.
1. Eldameldo – Elf-Lover
2. Heru – Lord
3. Atar – Father
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.