#queen regent míriel
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travelinglikethelight · 2 months ago
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✨ A salute to black women in fantasy ✨
Cynthia Addai-Robinson as Queen Tar-Míriel — The Rings of Power 2.06 "Where is He?"
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hundredthousandtimes · 4 months ago
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Míriel's coronation outfit Costume design: Luca Mosca Season & Episode: S02E03 "The Eagle and the Sceptre" The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power
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canirove · 1 month ago
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The Rings of Power (2022 - ) | s02e03 | 11/?
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monikanarnia · 3 months ago
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THE  LORD OF THE RINGS: The Rings of Power
2x03: The Eagle and the Sceptre
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queenmeriadoc · 2 years ago
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Queen Regent — Tar-Míriel — Partings
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dracowars · 1 month ago
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of kings and queens | halbrand
pairing: halbrand x númenorean!princess!reader
word count: 6,6k
summary: where halbrand and y/n are forced to marry and he unveils a world she's only ever dreamed of
a/n: how do i manage to make it longer every time you ask?? i have no idea, i just go with the flow & suddenly i'm at 6k~ i have been struggeling with this one but i'm proud of how it ultimately turned out!! feedback is always appreciated and thank you for all the love <3
warnings: angst, forced marriage, panic attack, mentions of sickness, soft sauron
universe: the rings of power
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"I won't marry a stranger!", you loudly cry out in anger and slam your fists on the table with all your might, the sheer force of it causing some of the parchments to fall to the marble floor.
"He is no stranger. He is the King of the Southlands", your sister, Queen-Regent Míriel, tells you matter-of-factly.
"Who told you that? The elf?", you spit out, the blood running through your veins seething with anger. "Just a few days have gone by since he was detained in one of our cells, and now he is being hailed as a long-lost king? Do you even listen to yourself?"
"Sister-"
"Don't 'sister' me right now."
Míriel takes a deep breath, resting her weight on the table with both arms, and lowers her head as if she needs a moment to avoid lashing out on you in the same manner you are currently displaying.
"Listen. A marriage like this would rekindle and strengthen the bond between the people of Middle-earth and our kind for generations to come", she explains, her voice calm, but you know her well enough to notice that she has to pull herself together.
"Very well, go ahead and marry him then", you counter and give her a challenging look, the one you have been giving her since you were children. "Why should I be the one to suffer?"
"As the Princess of Númenor, it is your duty to prioritize the welfare of your people over your own!", she yells at you now, her nostrils flaring. You'd be lying if you said you didn't flinch a little when she raised her voice. Usually, it takes longer to unsettle her.
Elendil, who is standing at the large doors to the room, also seems a little shocked. As the two exchange a tender look, however, Míriel's features relax again and she straightens up, slipping back into the role of the wise, majestic Queen-Regent of Númenor.
"I won't accept no for an answer", she tells you, all calm and collected again. No trace left of your loving sister whom you loved so much.
"You have held me captive within these castle's walls for longer than I know and now you wish to ship me off like that?", you scoff in disbelief, crossing your arms in front of your chest, trying to mask how much she's hurting you right now.
"You wanted freedom. Here I am granting it to you."
"This is not freedom", you express your words through gritted teeth, your eyes burning with tears as your words have no effect on Míriel. "You think you can still control me like a child. But you no longer hold any power over me. I won't let you dictate the course of my life."
To emphasize your point, you grab the unassuming tiara adorning your head, smaller and thus in stark contrast to your sister's, and forcefully hurl it to her feet. Several small diamonds come loose and the sound of them scattering around the marble floor makes you shiver.
"I don't care who he is", you say angrily, your hands clenched into fists at your sides while Míriel only looks at you in shock, her eyes wide. "I won't marry someone I don't know, let alone love."
With these final words, you turn away and walk towards the door, which Elendil quickly opens for you. On his face, you clearly see that he feels sorry about how this whole situation expired. But you don't need his pity.
You stomp out angrily, holding back your tears, your pulse pounding in your ears. You have never told her what you think before. You have always done what she asked of you, been a good little sister because you can only imagine the burden she is carrying. But today she has crossed a line.
When you turn around in the hallway one last time, catching a glimpse of Míriel through the closing door, you see Elendil carefully approaching her to comfort her. From this perspective, she looks exhausted, hurt even. But all you feel towards her is anger. You can't help but roll your eyes and release a heavy breath of air from your lungs.
Undoubtedly, that is the reason why she wants you to marry Lord Halbrand. Because her heart is already taken.
You think back to times when you would have been overjoyed, when you would have been genuinely happy for her. You two would have lain on soft pillows and talked about everything, every little detail. Now, you can find none of these feelings inside of you.
Completely lost in your thoughts, you walk through the large halls of the castle, your home. A home that feels much more like a prison. With your head low, you turn a corner and suddenly collide with a hard wall. Caught off guard, you stumble back until a hand closes around your wrist and holds you tight.
You forget to breathe for a moment when your gaze meets his.
"Whoa there. Where are you headed, my lady?", Lord Halbrand asks you in surprise, a gentle smile on his face as he holds you close, his touch on your skin burning. As soon as you notice this, you break free from his grip and take your distance, smoothing down your dress, which he only comments on with a frown.
He is the last person you want to talk to right now.
"Are you all right?", he asks you with concern in his voice, making you realize that you haven't given him an answer and just stood there in silence. In fact, you don't really have anything to say to him. You just wish he would go back to Middle-earth where he belongs.
"Yes", you finally answer, coldly and curtly. "Now if you'll excuse me."
You walk past him, your shoulders almost touching, and listen to your own loud footsteps echoing through the halls as you walk down the corridor.
"Your demeanour leads me to believe that the Queen-Regent informed you of our plans", his voice calls after you, suddenly bringing you to an abrupt halt.
Our plans? That means they have been talking about this behind your back for who knows how long. You were deemed to lose from the beginning. As always.
"She did", you say, slowly turning around and towards him. He hasn't moved from the spot where you left him moments ago, but his presence fills the entire hallway anyway.
The way he stands there and looks at you, as if you were fragile and pitiable, makes the anger inside of you boil up once more and you walk towards him. Instead of taking a step back, however, he takes one towards you so that he is now towering over you with all his height.
"Listen to my words: I don't know what exactly you hope to achieve with this.. marriage. But it will never happen. I will not marry you", you tell him clearly, emphasizing the last words by poking your index finger into his chest. You don't give him time to answer, but as you turn around you notice the knowing grin that plays around his lips.
You decide not to respond to this and move away from him entirely. As soon as you turn into the next corridor, you finally feel like you can breathe again. At least as much as is possible for you within these walls.
You haven't been able to breathe properly in here for a long time.
You walk to your room, two guards posted on either side of the massive doors, and let yourself through without a word. Once inside, you find your way directly to the balcony, which overlooks the entire city and the harbour. The wind blows through your hair and creates a sad smile on your lips. From up here, you can hear nothing but the wind, the people frolicking down there nothing more than tiny black dots. A single tear finds its way down your cheek and you don't bother to wipe it away. Rather, you are amazed that you can even cry at all after all the tears you have already shed here.
You don't know if it is at that moment, or before, when you threw your crown at Míriel's feet, but you make a decision.
With a goal in mind, you go back inside, into the huge room you call your own and search through several closets until you find what you are looking for. You swap your beautifully ornamented dress for a more simple one, get rid of all your jewelry and put your hair into a casual updo. On the way to the door, your own reflection briefly looks back at you from the mirror across the room and you pause as you look at yourself.
Nothing is left of the little girl who once had dreams and pursued goals.
Taking another deep breath, you open the door and step out. The guards bow, as they always do when they see you.
"I'm going to pay a visit to my father", you explain to them, which they confirm with a short nod. They are about to follow you, but seem to remember that you are now allowed to walk around without guards constantly at your side, at least within the castle's walls. A change that hasn't been in effect for very long.
Nevertheless, you quicken your pace once you are out of their reach, afraid that they will decide to follow you after all. On your way, you make sure to avoid the maids and other guards, hiding behind corners, holding your breath. When you finally arrive at the stairs to the tower that lead up to your father, you stop hesitantly. But it only takes a moment, remembering your conversation with Míriel and all the other terrible events of the past, for you to regain your strength and turn away. With quick steps, you take the next set of stairs that lead down.
As you arrive in corridors that lead to the kitchen and staff facilities, you pay close attention to every little noise. Your heart is pounding so hard against your chest that you feel like it can be heard echoing throughout the corridors. You put your shaking hands against the spot where your heart is and try to calm yourself down. You've never tried to break out of this prison before, you always thought you were here for your own good. But you know better now. The thought of the outside world, which you have encountered so rarely in your life, scares you beyond belief either way.
Your sister's words still roam around your mind, making you clench your fists, until you gather up all your courage. Finally, you make it out of one of the doors, out into the fresh air that greets you lovingly.
However, you have no time to linger and quickly move forward, with careful steps as not to alert anyone. As you walk, you pull a cloth out of the corset of your dress that you had previously hidden there. In one swift motion, you pull it over your head and hide your face behind the fabric, only your eyes visible now.
With these safety measures in place, you make your way to the harbour, away from the castle. The entrances for the staff are guarded, but because of your disguise they let you pass. Once you slip past them, you are immediately surprised by the number of people walking through the streets. The sun is already setting on the horizon and the warm light of lanterns illuminates the alleyways.
With a gentle smile, you watch as two children whirl around, holding dolls that they chase each other with. You follow the mass of people who probably want to celebrate the end of their day in one of the taverns. The closer you get to the center of the city, the market square, the louder and more crowded it becomes. You hear them talking, laughing with each other, arguments are being settled, some young girls dance in the middle of a crowd of people who happily watch and applaud.
Despite the positive and joyful atmosphere, you are overcome by a feeling of sadness and sorrow all of a sudden. These people are your people - and you never get to see them. They don't get to see you unless they enter the castle, and that is something only a few people are allowed to do, reserved especially for the nobles and those of higher rank. But what makes you even sadder is the fact that very few of them even care for you. You are second in line to the throne. Once your father leaves this world, Míriel will be their Queen. Accordingly, interest in you is quite low. You are not even sure they would recognize you if you took off your disguise.
The sad truth is that they wouldn't, and that hurts more than you thought. And these are the people you are supposed to give your life for.
Suddenly everything becomes too much for you. Your ears are ringing, your heart is pounding, your whole body is shaking. No matter where you look, there are crowds of people everywhere. You feel small, constricted, helpless. You are carelessly pushed to the side, shoved forward. Your feet are stepped on, no one apologizes. You try to break out of the crowd, but your head is spinning and you no longer know which direction to go. Your breathing is getting faster and louder by the second. Nobody notices, nobody shows even the slightest hint of interest in you.
When you feel your legs giving way beneath you, you are suddenly grabbed by the arm and pulled into an alley.
You are terrified when you realize that you cannot defend yourself, your body is completely frozen and does not listen to your commands. Only when you feel a gentle hand on your cheek - the cloth must have come loose in all the chaos - and look up do you let out a breath that you didn't even know you were holding in. Lord Halbrand is standing in front of you, his face painted in concern as he looks you up and down.
"What are you doing out here all alone, Princess?", he asks and quickly grabs a hold of your shoulder as you start to drift away again, your legs no longer able to hold you upright. Exhausted, you lean against the stone wall behind you and close your eyes. You don't like that he sees you like this. On the other hand, he just saved you and prevented you from fainting in the middle of a crowd.
"I.. don't know", you whisper in defeat and it takes all your strength to admit it.
"What were you even thinking?", he says quietly, more to himself than to you. It feels like he doesn't want to scold you, but on the other hand he also does want to.
You look into his eyes, his face bathed in warm light from the soft candlelight of the lanterns around you. The wounds that are covering his skin have slowly healed, but even in this dim light you still notice them. Only now, when staring at him, do you realize that he is distracting you from all the noise and hustle, faded into the background.
"Come. I'll escort you back to the castle", he finally offers, his hands still on your shoulders as if he doesn't dare let go of you, afraid that you'll drift into the darkness at any moment.
Once again, you don't react and only stare at him, making the worry on his face deepen. In the meantime, you just can't wrap your head around how a Southlander like him, a low man, who barely knows you and who you've met with nothing but hatred, is worried about you while the people around you, your kind, are far away from even remotely caring about you.
"Can you walk on your own?", he asks, and when you finally nod in agreement, he lets go of you. But not for long, because after he puts the cloth back in its place to cover your features one of his hands wraps around yours and holds it tightly in his grip as he pulls you behind him, up several steps that lead further away from the cheerful scene.
You are grateful that he doesn't ask any questions, doesn't want to know why you were out here in the first place.
"Thank you."
That makes him pause for a moment and his hand applies a little more pressure on yours. In response, he turns to you with a gentle smile and lowers his head in resignation.
For some inexplicable reason, your heart suddenly skips a beat. He doesn't seem to notice the change in your face, however, and walks on. Together you make your way through the winding streets and you are amazed at how well he already knows his way around. You have to admit that it also hurts. After just a few days he's already more familiar with this city than you are.
You can already see the entrance to the castle when Lord Halbrand halts in his step, forcing you to stop as well. Turning to you, he steps closer and lifts your hand. Then, he gently places his other hand on top of it.
"I don't know what you were doing out there", he starts, looking from your hand between his to your eyes. "But rest assured that I'll keep it to myself."
The relief you feel in that moment is indescribable. If your sister found out you had escaped, she would surely reinforce all safety measure to protect you. This feeling doesn't last long, however, when another emotion suddenly overshadows it once he continues speaking.
"A princess like you doesn't belong out here."
He may not notice it, but these words hurt you deeply and make your eyes burn with tears within seconds. Without hesitation, you snatch your hand from him and put some distance between you by taking a few steps back. Your knees still feel weak, but you don't let it show. Lord Halbrand's face meets yours with incomprehension as you do so.
"I know where I belong", you spit out angrily and straighten up. For a moment you actually thought there might be more hidden beneath his facade. Oh, how wrong you were.
With these last words, you leave him standing there and walk the last few meters to the castle without him. Once again, you sneak through the staff quarters into the castle. Although you don't want to admit it, the walls suddenly give you comfort, making you feel safe and protected.
You quickly blink away a few tears and return to your chambers, where you go straight to bed. Even though you are incredibly exhausted and drained, you don't sleep all night. You toss and turn in the sheets, your mind plagued by nightmares until you hear the birds outside singing.
════════════
Annoyed, you slam the door to your chambers shut behind you and lean against it with a huff. Then you slide down to the cold ground and pull your knees closer to you, hugging them against your body.
Once again you tried to talk to your sister. Once again she dismissed your words as if they were worthless.
And that's exactly how you feel right now: worthless. Born into a life that brings you nothing but suffering and pain.
Ever since you were born, you were the one who would never ascend the throne. Who would never rule. And you never wanted to. You would never want to be your sister. But right now, you wish that you were both just born into a normal family, with no wealth or power. At the end of the day, she is still your big sister, the one who has always watched over you. Your mother dead, your father long bedridden - she is the only family you have left.
You miss the times when everything was peaceful. Happy times long gone when two sisters were inseparable. But the years made you believe that this world is not made for anyone to be happy.
You lower your head and let the sadness wash over you like waves finally bringing down a ship, and tears stream down your cheeks. Your body shakes, but you hold back any sobs, crying in silence.
You don't know how long you sat there, alone with your thoughts, the very last tear leaving your eye, but eventually something catches your attention. Something that reflects the light from across the room, lying on your vanity table that wasn't there when you left in the morning. Slowly, you get up and walk over, only to discover a beautiful brooch on top of a small piece of parchment. The design is that of a sun and the brooch is decorated with white and blue diamonds. It's breathtaking to look at.
You glance at the black ink on the parchment and your heart involuntarily jumps once more. The words read: 'Forgive me'.
When you suddenly hear footsteps behind you, however, you don't have time to think about these words any further. In one quick movement, you take an ornate dagger out of one of the drawers and turn in the direction of the noises. What you don't expect, however, is that Lord Halbrand emerges from the shadows behind your bed.
"H-How did you get in here? Who let you in?", you ask, out of breath, your heart pounding. The dagger in your hand is still raised, even as he approaches you. He doesn't say anything, however, just stands in front of you and slowly grabs your hand, which is tightly gripping the weapon. He lowers your joined hands and carefully removes the dagger from your grip, leaning over you to gently place it on the table.
"I was uncertain if my apology would be deemed acceptable, hence I wanted to see you in person to make sure", his soft voice sounds in your ear and sends a shiver down your spine. He is definitely too close to you right now and even though you'd never admit it, it doesn't feel uncomfortable. You look straight into his shining eyes which are not quite blue and not quite green but something in the middle. You swallow because the intensity in his gaze leaves you speechless.
"Get off me", you manage to croak out, sounding anything but convincing. Lord Halbrand notices this too, a smirk playing around his lips.
"I know you don't mean that, Princess. And that, deep down, you have already forgiven me", he breathes in a deeper voice than before and brushes a strand of hair from your face. In an instant, you grab his wrist and stop him from touching you any further. Because you know exactly what his touch does to you. And you simply cannot and do not want to acknowledge that you like what he does.
So far, every encounter with him was exhilarating, thrilling, like you were finally embarking on a long-awaited adventure. He awakens feelings you have kept locked away for a long time, sealed behind thick iron bars. Brick by brick, he slowly destroys the protective walls you have built around your heart.
It scares you.
"Lord Halbrand", you say more seriously now and stare directly into his beautiful eyes while he does not even try to free himself from your grip. "Get out of this room or I will call the guards and have you removed."
At that threat, Lord Halbrand lets out a quiet chuckle and removes his hand from your tight grip with ease.
"Before long, I will become your husband. It's time for you to get used to my presence, my lady", he states and the fury that rises in your eyes at his words is unmistakable. "I am aware that this.. arrangement may not be something you look forward to, but I suggest that you begin to come to terms with it. I fear you have no choice but to agree."
"Don't do this", you plead, and even though you try your best to hide it, your body trembles and your eyes fill with tears. The realization that he is telling the truth makes you feel sick to your stomach. Not wanting him to see your obvious discomfort, you turn your head away, lowering it in the process.
The next moment, however, you are unexpectedly pulled forward and suddenly feel two strong, muscular arms around you. Lord Halbrand hugs you as if his life depended on it. You can't even remember the last time someone hugged you. Especially not like this.
The slight scent of sea salt and smoke greets you and you have to admit that his embrace makes you feel safe, comfortable even. With his arms pressing you against his firm body tenderly, he manages to stop your body from shaking and your head from spinning. Right now, it's just you and Lord Halbrand. No could-haves, no would-haves.
The fact that you are no longer averse to his proximity scares you an immeasurable amount. That is also the reason why, in the next second, you push him away with all your strength, your hands on his hard chest.
"Please, Lord Halbrand. I need you to leave", you almost beg him and when his hand clasps yours on his chest, you look up at him and suddenly feel seen. The way he looks at you is unlike anyone has ever looked at you before.
"Your wish is my command, Princess", he nods and lifts your hand to his mouth, where he places a feather-light kiss on the back of your hand before he walks back to the large doors to your chamber, not taking his eyes off you. You also watch him and wait for him to finally leave you.
"Leave out the Lord next time", is the last thing he says before he disappears.
As soon as you see the door slam shut behind him, however, you run over with quick steps. Only when you get there and reach for the door handle do you stop yourself. What has gotten into you? Overwhelmed by the emotions flowing through your body all at once, you lean your forehead against the door in defeat.
After staying there for a while and taking several deep breaths to calm your rapidly pounding heart, you walk over to the brooch that is still shining at you from the table. Carefully, you place the fragile thing in the palm of your hand and examine it when you suddenly hear a whistle.
Wondering where it came from, you step out onto your balcony and see a few ships leaving the bay in the distance. But your attention is quickly drawn to the person standing in the courtyard a few meters below, looking up at you. You don't have to look twice to know that it is Halbrand.
"Give us a chance", he calls up to you and even from this distance you can see the bright smile on his face. Then he turns around and disappears under one of the archways.
Holding the brooch tightly to your heart, you can't believe that a soft smile creeps onto your lips.
════════════
"His Lordship Halbrand has requested to see you, my lady", one of the guards announces as you step out of your chambers the next morning. The mention of his name makes your heart skip a beat and you straighten up immediately.
"Then I shouldn't keep him waiting", you reply gracefully and let the guard accompany you to the place where Halbrand wants to meet you. You wouldn't have expected this to be the inner courtyard, though. And even less that he would be waiting for you there with two saddled horses.
"I hope you had a good night's sleep, my lady", Halbrand greets you with a gentle smile and notices that your steps immediately slow down when you see him with the horses. "Rest assured, Princess. I have consulted with the Queen-Regent regarding this matter. With her approval, I am permitted to accompany you on a brief ride. If that is what you wish, of course."
You pause entirely. You can't believe he convinced your sister to let you leave the castle, and with only Halbrand as your company as well. On the other hand, you've gotten a sense of how charming and persuasive he can be in the last few days.
Smiling, he holds out the reins of a white mare that is standing calmly next to him. Still a little unsure about the whole situation, you take the reins and stroke the horse gently, but don't take your eyes off Halbrand.
"H-How?", you ask him in disbelief. You can't help but think back to how often you have begged your sister to finally let you leave the castle. The fact that she is allowing this now makes you a little suspicious, but you certainly won't question her motives if it means that you can experience freedom once more, even if only for a few hours.
"We have to be back by sunset", Halbrand winks at you and comes closer, making you take a step back instinctively. When he reaches out his hand, you realize that he just wants to help you onto the mare, so you put your hand in his. Once you feel his calloused, rough yet soft hand, a pleasant feeling flows through you and when you sit upon the mare's back, you feel like you could conquer the world. He mounts his black horse as well and together you lead the horses out of the gate.
You turn around, your eyes fixed on the castle and the guards who make no move to follow you. A sense of relief flows through your body at once. Side by side, you make it out of the city and as soon as you leave the border of the capital, you are greeted by vast meadows and fields, grass gently swaying in the wind.
It doesn't take long before you get your horses galloping over the fields. Your white mare is a little faster than his horse, but you hardly even notice. You can only concentrate on the wind blowing through your hair, letting your dress float gently behind you. The air feels liberating and you are amazed at the beauty of nature, the beauty of the island you call home but have seen so little of.
A little later you reach a white sandy beach, the waves calm, seagulls squalling in the distance. The sea suddenly smells completely different from what you are used to and you can't help but smile.
If this is what freedom feels like, you won't ever go back.
Finally, you bring your horse to a stop on the shore, scratching her head, and turn to Halbrand, who stops his stallion right in front of you. Your hair is all tousled by the wind, but Halbrand smiles at you so genuinely that your cheeks flush. Without saying a word, you hop off your mare's back and bend down to bury your hands in the sand. As Halbrand dismounts, you quickly take off your shoes, lift up the fabric of your dress a little, and wade into the shallow water, which laps warmly against your skin.
You can't remember the last time you felt the ocean. As a Númenorean, you are connected to the sea on a deeper level and it feels like, right now, it's showing you how much it's missed you, like you're reuniting with an old friend. The sun is high above you, warming your skin as you close your eyes and enjoy the moment. Then you jump around the water playfully and with so much joy you haven't felt since you were a child.
Until you meet Halbrand's gaze. He is still standing where you left him, the reins of both horses in his hand, watching you enjoy yourself with so much affection in his eyes that you want nothing more than to run to him and fall into his arms, chasing the exhilarating feeling he gave you the day before.
Shyly, you slowly walk back to him through the ankle-deep water, your dress a little wet at the bottom.
"Enjoying yourself?", he asks with a smile, one hand scratching his horse behind the ears as he looks you up and down with sparkling eyes.
"Not exactly princess-like behaviour now, is it?", you shrug, eliciting a chuckle from him that gives you goosebumps and makes your heart beat faster.
"If you want my humble opinion: I think it's exactly how a princess should behave", he replies, the wrinkles around his eyes from smiling making him even more handsome in your eyes. "You shouldn't have to hide from the world."
"I wish I could come here more often", you sigh, ignoring his statement, your mood suddenly burdened by the thought that this moment of freedom will not last long and you will soon find yourself locked up inside the walls of the castle again. Halbrand's expression matches yours, but his gaze lays you bare. Feeling weak, you turn away. You stumble through the sand and finally flop onto the ground on a small dune, neatly placing your shoes next to you. Halbrand leaves the horses in your sight and joins you, sitting just a few meters next to you, your elbows touching.
For a while, neither of you says anything and you just stare out at the waves, which radiate a certain calm.
"As a child, I was very sick. An unidentified illness that was brought over from the continent. Despite having overcome it, I remained in a very weak state, requiring assistance with everything. I was not allowed to go out neither were people allowed to see me for fear of infecting me again. I was always surrounded by guards", you explain, your voice strong, but you have to pull yourself together not to sob. "Míriel was the only one who stood by my side, who made my time a little more bearable. Since our father.. has fallen sick, my sister feels even more responsible for my safety and, just like him, doesn't let me go out. She says it's for my own good and I once believed that, a long time ago. But now I doubt her concern is rooted in anything else than her own fear of losing me."
As soon as the last words leave your lips, you feel free. Free from the burden of not being able to tell anyone. But saying it out loud makes it feel so much more real. Still, pride fills you that you didn't shed a single tear. Halbrand, who was hanging on your every word, looks at you not with pity or sadness, but with a smile.
"Thank you for confiding in me. I can hardly imagine how hard that must have been for you", he tells you, speaking as if all of this is no longer your present. Maybe it's not right now, but it will be once you return.
"I have been wondering why you were locked up inside your whole life", he mutters to himself and takes a handful of sand, letting it trickle through his fingers. "And despite the prospect of freedom, you are against this marriage?"
His words hit you harder than they should, because you have to admit that you haven't given it a thought since yesterday.
"It's about her treating me like I'm a commodity that can be sold for a price", you answer, anger rising inside of you at the thought. "Either she keeps me here and risks a war or she finally lets me leave, with the ulterior motive that I at least bring some added value to Númenor. Besides, no one ever said that I would come with you once we were married."
"You think she would keep you here?", Halbrand asks, astonished. When you nod, something like determination paints his features.
"I won't allow that."
"I fear none of us will have much say in this", you sigh, exhausted and defeated, absentmindedly playing with the sand now as well. "I'm sorry you have to put up with a princess who knows nothing about this world, let alone has seen anything-"
"Don't say that", Halbrand interrupts you firmly, his eyebrows drawn together as if it physically hurts him to hear such words coming from your mouth. "You are perfect in my eyes, Princess."
You are glad he can't see the way your heart has started beating faster. What he can see, however, is the blush rising to your cheeks, which you quickly try to hide by turning your head away, pulling your knees closer to you.
"I feel like no one has ever told you how beautiful you are. In every way", he continues and you are startled when you feel his hand on your chin, gently turning your face back to him. You find it difficult to look at him, his eyes are looking at you so intensely that you no longer know which way is up and which way is down.
"Lord Halb-"
"What did I tell you about the Lord?", he chuckles, shaking his head at your cute behaviour. He loves the colour of pink your cheeks have taken on and how your eyes search his for any sign that he is lying, but you find nothing but the truth in them.
"When I told you that a princess like you doesn't belong here, I meant that a princess like you, who should be a queen, doesn't belong on this island, isolated from the world", Halbrand whispers, his hand moving from your chin to your cheek, where he gently strokes your heated skin with his thumb. "You belong in the very middle of it."
"N-No. I could never be a queen, I was not born for that", you explain, confident in your own words because it's all you have ever heard in your entire life; you would never be queen.
"I will make you a queen", he replies and the conviction with which he says this, the affection that resonates in his words and his features, makes you believe in his words. You desperately want to believe them.
"I promise I will not go without bringing you along", he assures you, holding your face in both of his hands now, his face so close to yours that you only have to lean forward a little to taste his lips. Halbrand notices this too, his gaze wanders to your lips and back to your eyes, which meet his almost pleadingly. As soon as you slightly nod, he connects your lips in a gentle but longing kiss. You gasp, never having been kissed before. Your heart feels like it will jump out of your chest at any moment, the sound of the waves blurs with your heartbeat and your hands get lost in his hair.
The kiss only lasts a few seconds, both of you having to catch your breath, but you don't want to let go of him. You have no idea what this man, this inconspicuous King of the Southlands, is doing to you, but you don't want to think about it because all you know is that you finally feel like yourself again, a feeling that seems so familiar yet unknown.
"I promise I will make you a queen and if it's the last thing I do", Halbrand tells you once more, leaning his forehead against yours before leaving a gentle kiss on the side of your mouth. Smiling up at him, you waste no time to wrap your arms around his neck and connect your lips in another kiss.
You will be his queen. And then you will finally be free.
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apoloadonisandnarcissus · 2 months ago
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I’ve already addressed these “Halbrand vs. Sauron” or “whenever Sauron has the ability to love or not” debates on two posts: here and here.
In short: “Halbrand” was pretty much real. He was repentant Mairon. Mairon in seek of redemption. Mairon who wanted to atone for all of his past sins and crimes under Morgoth. Mairon who wanted to remain in Númenor (a island gifted by the Valar to Men) sweeping floors and chopping wood in servitude, at the forge.
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When Thangorodrim was broken and Morgoth overthrown, Sauron put on his fair hue again and did obeisance to Eönwë, the herald of Manwë, and abjured all his evil deeds. And some hold that this was not at first falsely done, but that Sauron in truth repented […] But it was not within the power of Eönwë to pardon those of his own order […] to receive from the Valar a sentence, in might be, of long servitude in proof of his good faith.
The Silmarillion
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When the petals of Nimloth, the White Tree of Númenor, fall, according to Queen-regent Míriel, the Faithful see in them the tears of the Valar, “a living reminder that their eyes and judgment are ever upon us.” This is reason why Mairon wanted to stay in Númenor, to prove his good faith to the Valar and sought their forgiveness.
This is with whom Galadriel fell in love with.
And she’s also the one who blew it thanks to her “pride and prejudice”, really. In one of my posts, I already analyzed how Mairon wasn’t manipulating her and how their shared connection wasn’t a deception on his part (based on visual clues and color code on the show itself).
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And “Halbrand” is one of those names.
“Sauron” is the name the Elves gave him. A mockery of his true name: “Mairon”, which means “The Admirable”. “Sauron” means “The Abhorrent”. In some versions of the lore, he absolutely hates this name (“Sauron”). Yeah, because who wants to be called “the abhorrent”!?
Season 1 of “Rings of Power” gave us peak Mairon, the Maia of Aulë vibes. This is Mairon, with his reddish hair, beard and his Dwarvish-inspired necklace (the Dwarves are the Children of Aulë):
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“Rings of Power”, pretty much like Peter Jackson trilogy, took some liberties with Tolkien canon (these are adaptations), but this is one of my absolute favorites.
With this being said, if fellow fans want to think of “Halbrand” as a “separate identity” from “Sauron”, you do you. That’s what fanfiction is for, after all. And there is no “good” or “bad” way of enjoying characters or ships, on a personal level. Just don’t go around policing fellow fans or creating guidelines, because that’s distasteful. Throwing around big words like “problematic” or “toxic” is so 2010s. We are in 2024. Move with the times.
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fukutomichi · 2 years ago
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The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power / S1 / 2 Sep. 2022 - 14 Oct. 2022 Cynthia Addai-Robinson as Queen Regent Míriel template by @thereigning-lorelai ♡
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morganas-pendragons · 3 months ago
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Grieving Is Like Suffocating | Elendil
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You don't know how to come back up for air.
2/2 on the ROP fan fiction. I can't stop writing for these guys. The ideas just keep pouring.
This is based in S1, Ep 7 and 8. Set when Elendil returns to Númenor. Another female reader. This one is a long time friend of Miriel.
In this fic, Elendil meets Míriel when they're younger as opposed to meeting when they're older in the show.
Enjoy! This got away from me, and I'm not sure how I feel about it. I'd love to know what you guys think!
I'll be writing 2 more for Celebrimbor and 1 for Elrond within the next week or so!
***
It started off with you and a young boy on the shores of Númenor. He was screaming. You were only just learning how to defend yourself during those years, barely an adult and now newly appointed to Miriel's guard, and you found yourself called to the screaming 10 year old by the water.
You quickly realized why as soon as you calmed him down enough to talk. His mother's body was floating face down in the waters of Númenor. He himself was soaked to the bone, so young and so full of fear as he clung to your side.
“I got caught in a riptide. She.. she drowned-“
You held him there, whispering comfort into his ear as you stroked his hair. You later found out his name was Isildur and that his father was Elendil The Tall, someone you’ve known for years but have never actually met.
Elendil spent the entire day looking for Isildur. When he eventually found him, his son was bent over his wife's body, and he was calling out for you.
"Who does that name belong to, son?"
"She found me by the water and helped bring Mother to the shore! She said her name, but she ran away before I could ask her to find you!" Elendil wrapped his hand around Isildur's shoulder as he hid his face in his father's hip, trembling hands clutching the fabric of his trousers. "Mother... Mother's gone...."
Elendil could do nothing but whisper assurances to his little one and wrap him up in his arms to return him home. He dare not let Isildur see his tears fall.
Elendil never learned the face of the one who'd saved his son. See, you'd sworn Isildur to a secret: He had to keep your identity a secret to come back and meet you again. Everyone knew who you were because of your standing with the Queen Regent.
No one knew who you were as a person. No one knew you as the person who saved Isildur and Elendil both.
In the quiet despair of the funeral, someone was singing.
There was a beautifully ornate casket before him with his three children standing idly by on either side of where Elendil knelt before it. Very few people were allowed to the funeral, as he'd wanted it to be a private matter, but the person singing was enough to catch Isildur's attention when they came up behind his father to rest a gentle hand on his shoulder.
Through the shadows falling over Númenor, not one could catch the face belonging to the person standing vigil over his family. Elendil did not care enough to do so. Under most circumstances, he simply would've shrugged off the hand and continued to wallow in his grief.
He was not old enough to be a widower.
"May the spirit of Nienna comfort you, Elendil."
Fingertips tenderly grazed his shoulders before the touch was gone, almost as if it had never been there to begin with.
Elendil never forgot that song or that offer of comfort. Despite years having passed since, he never forgot the sound of that haunting song that brought him some modicum of comfort on the worst day of his life.
Grief was like suffocating. He had always wondered how his wife felt when she sank beneath the waves, desperate to rescue their son before the waters claimed her, and how she'd died with water in her lungs. She'd suffocated.
Elendil understood part of that feeling. He'd been suffocating since he found Isildur on that beach, and it was getting progressively harder to find the will to come back up for air.
He doesn't know how to. Or if he even will.
***
Past
Tar-Míriel was the only daughter of the 24th King of Númenor and one of your dearest friends from your childhood. There had been many nights of complaints, whispered secrets about those in attendance at court, and dreams of lives that people like the two of you could never live.
Fortunately, Tar-Palantír was sharp enough to recognize potential when he saw it. That was what led him to enlist you to be part of Míriel's protection just before you both were to become adults. Your birthday was a mere few weeks away, and you had been asking for your own bow for long enough now for your parents to take notice.
That was what led you to the docks where Númenor's bravest and boldest of the Sea Guard were often found.
"This is quite an interesting place to find respite," Míriel remarked as she took her seat beside you and adjusted the hood of the cloak on her head. "Are you-Is that a bow?"
You tenderly ran your hand down the weapon your father had handed you that morning. "My father gave it to me early. The arrows are handmade as well." Your eyes flickered out across the docks. Elendil The Tall was standing idly beside in deep conversation with a woman you did not recognize. He was one of the most handsome men in Númenor. Every woman knew it. "That up-and-coming Sea Guard. There's just.. something about him."
"Can't be focusing on unattainable futures when you know where your future lies."
You took Míriel's words to heart. They would change later, of course, but you knew why she said them. Despite your curiosity about Elendil, you opted to look from a distance and to never approach him yourself. It was better that way. When you were dedicating yourself to the safety of the future Queen of Númenor, there was no time for idle dreams of romance.
You found yourself meeting Elendil a few months later. With his recent promotion to Captain of the Númenorean Sea Guard, the King had invited him to court to meet the dignitaries and other highly esteemed members of their society who he would frequently interact with.
Both you and Míriel were in attendance that day. Your father, the right hand of Tar-Palantir, took it upon himself to stride up to Elendil and introduce him to the future Queen and the Queen's right hand.
Being in his presence made breathing difficult. If you thought he was handsome from afar, he was a true sight to behold up close.
"It's my pleasure to make your acquaintance, Captain," You greeted, bowing low to the ground while Elendil reached out to take your hand and place a kiss thereupon. You barely noted the sudden look of astonishment on his face before he turned to do the same to Míriel. "As I am sure you will do Númenor proud."
Elendil would have been lying if he said he didn't find himself drawn to you. Of all the people he knew in Númenor, most of them were fairly easy to read. He was able to tell what kind of person he would be meeting simply by watching them - How they carried themselves and their interactions with others, their body language and facial expressions and intonations in conversation.
You, however, were the first person he met that he could not do that with. You were closed off. Guarded.
And why did you seem so familiar?
"Your kind words speak volumes, my Lady," Elendil returned. "Tell me... Have we met before?"
You tried not to think about the countless dreams you'd had about Elendil since you'd secretly started spending time down at the docks. About how Isildur often came seeking you out at the beaches - because his son was clever and knew you would always return to the site of where you first met - and about how you often intervened with the sailors of Númenor who dared to wish him harm.
"Maybe in another life," You remarked. "If you'll excuse me."
For the next several years after that, Míriel desperately tried to convince you that you should further pursue Elendil. She noted his approach to you during the party and every time after that as one of curiosity and interest. You denied her. Why would he be interested in you?
***
Ironically enough, it is not long before the soldiers of Númenor and the Sea Guard are set to depart with their Queen Regent for Middle-Earth that Isildur finds you again. You were one of the few people present who accepted the elf's presence in Númenor. Many did not, especially with the rising acceptance of Ar-Pharazôn as their desired King.
This time, however, he is with Ontamo and Valandil.
"There you are! I was wondering if you would be down here. Why are you not preparing to depart with the Queen?"
"Keep your voice down, Isildur." You whisper, dragging the younger man behind the cluster of boulders you often sought refuge in when you were down here. It was only the nature of your hiding spot and your disguise that kept most of the people here from recognizing you. "Míriel wishes for me to stay here. Besides, you know as well as I do that your father is enough protection for her. As are you."
You had been one of the few people in his life to offer Isildur the necessary encouragement and affirmation he needed to maintain his confidence as he grew. When he felt as if he could not disclose such struggles to his father, he often came and found you.
"My father speaks very highly of you, you know. The you that he actually knows. Seems like I'm the only person in Númenor besides the Queen-Regent who truly knows you. Doesn't that ever bother you?" He asks.
"It used to." You shrug. "I am duty bound to the Queen of Númenor. Even if I were to tell you how I truly felt about your father-"
"Wait," Despite well knowing they're both there, instinct finds you knocking an arrow and aiming it directly at Valandil as he and Ontamo approach. "Is this the woman from the Queen Regent's court that your father has spoken about?"
Isildur's eyes slowly slide to your face. Valandil was one of the few people in his personal life who was close to his father besides him and his siblings. He knew who you were by your identity in Míriel's court. He did not know you as Isildur did. As a comforter, a warrior, and a friend.
"As I said, my father speaks highly of you. You should see him before he departs for Middle Earth." Isildur motions between himself, Valandil and Ontamo as the three begin to back away from your spot. "We are going with him. I'll see you when I get back!"
You give a half-hearted salute in return. Over the years, you've greatly come to love Isildur. He's been under the shadow of your protection almost his entire life.
"Make sure you come back." You call. "You hear me? No noble deaths out there, not for any of you!"
You contemplate Isildur's request as you venture back to the castle, hidden beneath the sanctuary of your hood. He seems to know something you don't. If you were to be truthful with yourself, it was nice to be aware of a man like Elendil desiring you. Wanting you near.
That thought combined with years of Míriel's desperate pleas is what leads you to the docks. Elendil's ship stands tall and fair against the waters, a trademark of the people who sail upon her and the captain who commands her.
Once you are within earshot, you clear your throat and dust off your clothes as you approach the gangplank.
"Captain?" You call.
Elendil's aspect softens at the sound of your voice. Part of him had quietly hoped you would be here. "Afternoon, My Lady. The Queen told me you would not be joining us." He remarks, turning to face you fully. You find your eyes drawn to his own. They're so blue. "I assume it is because you are needed for another reason here."
The unspoken words of, "Keeping an eye on Pharazôn." do not go unnoticed by you. He's closer to Míriel than you originally realized.
"That's true. That's why I'm coming to you to ensure that you as her Captain will do your duty in protecting our Queen," You tease. "And protecting yourself. We need you to come home."
Daring to be brave, you reach into your pocket and produce a recently made handkerchief with your initials embroidered on the bottom of it. You reach outward and take Elendil's hand into your own so you can wrap his fingers around it.
A stuttering breath flutters in his chest. It's the first time he's felt like his lungs work properly in years, having this token of your affection tucked into his palm.
The words spill from his lips before rationale can take over. "I will return to you. I promise." Elendil lays something of his own between your fingers: A chain containing a token belonging to the Captain of Sea Guard. You tuck your hand just out of sight before anyone can catch it.
You don't think you've ever longed for anyone more.
"Namárië." You whisper.
The chain hangs heavy around your neck.
Present
Here Elendil is on the second worst day of his life, and he is still thinking of that song. Of that offered comfort from someone who may as well be a ghost.
Part of him finds himself wishing for the gentleness of your presence beside him.
"Where is my son?"
No one could tell him where Isildur was. His eldest had fought hard to earn his right to be on this trip to Middle-Earth. Isildur had fought for him and had saved his life when they'd encountered those orcs. According to Miriel, he was the only reason she was still alive.
Isildur and his body are nowhere to be found.
When he's standing on the cliffside with Míriel and Galadriel, it all comes rushing back to him: The way his son had clung to him during that hug after his first battle against the orcs, the curve of his daughter's smile, the warmth of your hands and the gentleness of your touch as you wrapped his fingers around your handkerchief before he'd left.
"You're quiet today." Míriel remarks. The Queen Regent stopped beside him and laid a shaky hand on his shoulder. He knew she was having difficulty adjusting to life without her sight.
"Not much to say."
Elendil and Míriel were closely acquainted. She trusted him implicitly. He was loyal to her through his duty to the Queen of Númenor and to her as a woman. She knew him, and she knew you, which is why she already knew the answer to her next question.
"What are you thinking of?" She asked softly.
Elendil ran his fingertips over the top of the handkerchief.
"Home."
***
It is hard to hide how distraught he really is when Míriel dismisses him upon their return to Númenor. She utters quiet thanks for Isildur's involvement in saving her life and allows him to depart for home before he can argue. He's grateful for it. It's impossible to breathe while in the palace.
Where is my son? My son, my boy...
His heart aches to seek you out instead of going home. Going home is simply another reminder of Isildur. That is not what he wants.
It is mere luck that he finds you in the courtyard training with another archer in front of a row of targets. Elendil's form shifts in the corner of your eye, and you thank your companion for the training time together before slipping your bow over your shoulder.
The breath is knocked from your lungs once the two of you lock eyes. He is wrecked.
"Oh, Elendil." You murmur. Your hand is moving of its own accord before you can stop yourself, and part of you is expecting him to flinch when your fingertips just barely touch his cheek. He leans into the warmth with all the fervor of a man starved and presses his hand against your own. Yours dwarfs his in comparison. Everything about him is so mighty in comparison to you. You're so small... and yet he makes you feel so safe. "Come on. I know a place."
The place in question is a private part of the beach that few ever dare to wander for fear of reprimanding from the Crown. It is usually only used in circumstances for private gatherings or weddings. You toe off your boots upon approach, removing your quiver and bow before extending your hands to him.
You can tell he doesn't wish to talk about it. Part of you is curious about the whereabouts of Isildur, as he is not with his father, and a deeper part of you dreads that the reason for this anguish is because Isildur did not make it home.
"I do not understand what it is that draws me to you," Elendil's confession is quiet, barely perceptible through the crash of waves against the shoreline just feet to your right. "Perhaps it is your gentleness and devotion to that which you care for." Elendil pauses to glance down at your hands, both still extended as he links them with his own to press them against his chest. The action has you blushing as you gaze up at him. "I know how much you love my son. I have seen it. That is why I wish to tell you-"
Dread curls in your belly as he rapidly blinks away tears and turns his head to the coming sunset just over Númenor's ocean.
You have so many questions. You don't ask a single one. The only thing you can do is hum a familiar tune that has always brought you comfort and stand on your tiptoes to envelop him in an embrace.
Everything comes to a screeching halt once he hears the song. It takes him back to the darkest time of his life, weary and drowning in his anguish in front of the casket of his wife. Of the comfort of a stranger.
"All this time, all these years," He moves you away just enough to gaze into your face, and you know then that he's figured you out. You are the angel who stood vigil. You are the one who has been secretly protecting his son. "It was you."
You nod. You fear that this will force the two of you apart, driven away by secrets and deceit. You face two roads now. Will he let you in, or will he force you out?
Your eyes meet Elendil's with all the confidence of a soldier ready to face a horde of the enemy alone. You will not falter no matter what choice Elendil may make.
"Me."
part two?
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fuckyeahcostumedramas · 2 years ago
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Cynthia Addai-Robinson as  Queen Regent Míriel in ( The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power (TV Series, 2022– ).
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sluttyseacadet · 1 year ago
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Queen-Regent Míriel
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anghraine · 4 months ago
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This is maximally self-indulgent so I didn't add it to the other reblog, but the Denethor--Aragorn connection is honestly one of the funnest things about writing my Aranor fics. The basic premise is that the Númenórean throwbacks in LOTR are genderbent (usually to women, though Ivriniel and Finduilas of Dol Amroth become Túrin and Gwindor!). The most narratively central figure is Aranor (Aragorn), though, so I mostly think of the interconnected fics as "the Aranorverse."
Anyway, the Denethor--Aragorn connection is particularly fun in that verse because the first woman to rule Gondor is not Aranor, but the Ruling Steward Andreth (Denethor). For Aranor, getting the people of Gondor to accept her as not only heir of Elendil but as ruling queen is still a steep task—but not as steep as it would have been if the foundation had not been laid by Andreth's rise to the Ruling Stewardship and popular, largely successful rule over the decades since.
Andreth would never in a million years have wanted her actions to smooth Aranor's path, incidentally. They knew each other as younger women and she was one of the only people to realize that Aranor was a woman, much less heir of Isildur, and Andreth resented the hell out of "Thorongil" back in the day. Andreth knows her way around a sword and in some ways, would have very much preferred to live a Thorongil sort of life, but as one of the Steward's daughters and mother to the (then very young) heir to the Stewardship, her circumstances were quite different from Aranor's.
In any case, Andreth wanted Boromir to succeed her as had always been planned, and was devastated by his death. Still, she remained set on her remaining heir, her daughter Míriel, inheriting the Stewardship upon her death. Fortunately in some ways, she died before Aranor's return and never saw the parallels between her struggle to rule in her own right and not only as regent for Boromir during his minority, and Aranor's fight for the chieftainship of the Northern Dúnedain given the N. Dúnedain's pride in the father-to-son line of male chieftains, or how both struggles would culminate in Aranor's ascension as first ruling queen of Gondor.
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echo-bleu · 9 months ago
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Curious about the Queen Nerdanel AU, if you’d like to share anything about it!
Yay, thank you!
That's also an AU that I'm really excited about, though I have written very little of it. It's (at least for now) a bullet-point fic where instead of leaving Fëanor, Nerdanel finds out early that he put too much of himself in the Silmarils and that he's ill because of it, and she stays. When Morgoth steals the Silmarils, Nerdanel is the one who goes to Beleriand to get them back, taking the role of General and Regent Queen, while Fëanor stays behind and becomes King.
It changes... a lot of things. For now I've mostly written the early parts before they leave, but some characters that would otherwise have gone will stay, and the narrative will follow both sides.
I'm not saying that it's a fix-it, but—yeah, it's a fix-it, actually. I haven't figured out everything yet, but Nerdanel is scarily efficient at putting everyone to work and resolving conflict.
For now, an early snippet:
He falls ill.
Varda’s hallowing will only burn evil, she says. Fëanáro is not evil.
The Ainur perhaps don’t quite understand how Eldar fëar work. Their own eälar can withstand any amount of abuse, and even, as the world will (or would, in a different timeline—that remains to be seen) eventually learn, the most egregious splintering.
It doesn’t burn Fëanáro’s fëa, it just exhausts it.
It makes his temper shorter, he’s prone to bouts of depression, times when he lashes out at seemingly nothing, sensory overload—all things he had before, but much stronger.
And because unlike the Ainur, he’s an incarnate, it affects his hroä as well, and he’s often lethargic, struggling to keep his energy levels constant, and he’s taken by fits of widespread nerve pain.
He isn’t successful at hiding it. The public just wonders why the Crown Prince is making so few appearances, but Nerdanel and the children are worried to see him barely able to get out of bed some days. And Finwë…
All Finwë can think about is Míriel.
As you can see, my fondness for writing disabled characters is coming through once more.
Ask me about my WIPs
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canirove · 2 months ago
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The Rings of Power (2022 - ) | s02e03 | 9/?
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aadmelioraa · 5 months ago
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Compiled the fanfic I wrote during Season One before we get new episodes. Cheers to Season Two!
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HOME - 1.2k, rated G
Set during 1x03. On the journey to Armenelos, Isildur prepares to tell his father about his plans to defer.
ONYA - 2k, rated T
Set during 1x04. After confessing the shame of his dismissal to Eärien, Isildur spends a restless night in the streets of Armenelos.
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MOONRISE - 1.9k, rated T
Pre-canon fic. Valandil watches Isildur adapt following the loss of his mother.
MATCH - 1.6k, rated G
Pre-canon fic. Isildur’s closest childhood friend Valandil has spent the summer away from home. When he returns, Isildur wonders if Valandil wants to remain friends at all.
PREDICTABLE - 1.5k, rated E
Pre-canon fic. Isildur gets in trouble, again, and drags Valandil down with him—again. Valandil is patient, but even he has limits. Isildur needs to learn his lesson, one way or another.
FORGIVEN - 1.8k, rated G
Set during 1x05. Still upset after his recent conversation with Isildur, Valandil rushes to the scene of the explosion.
ASH - 1.3k, rated T
Set during 1x07. Valandil makes his way to the Númenórean camp, fighting an uphill battle against the weight of grief.
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PREPARATIONS - 1.8k, rated M
Set during 1x06. On the second day of their voyage, Elendil shares an evening with the Queen Regent.
THRESHOLD - 1.3k, rated T
Months after returning from Middle-earth, Elendil continues to grapple with his loss.
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READY TO SERVE - Elendil x Míriel x Valandil, 2.2k, rated E
Valandil finds himself intruding on a private moment between the queen regent and her captain. Unless he isn’t intruding after all…
ALONE - Valandil x Eärien, 3.6k, rated E
In the wake of Isildur’s death, both Eärien and Valandil struggle to carry on. 
UNDERSTANDING - Galadriel x Míriel, 600 words, rated M
Before Míriel departs from Middle-earth, she requests an audience with Galadriel.
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ALL THIS AND HEAVEN TOO - Isildur x Isildur’s Wife, Isildur x Valandil, 8.2k at 4/10 Chapters, rated M, Status: INCOMPLETE
Fearing the real Númenor may be lost forever, Isildur and Anárion, along with their families, retreat to their childhood home. There is plenty of work for them in Rómenna and no shortage of perils in Armenelos. But despite the danger, Isildur finds himself drawn back to the capital one fateful night. Valandil, now a Captain of the King’s Guard, finds his former friend in the courtyard of the White Tree engaged in what appears to be a suicide mission. Forced to either turn Isildur in to save himself or risk everything to save Isildur's life, Valandil makes a decision that will echo through the chronicles for centuries to come.
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insufficient-earth-skills · 2 years ago
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Númenórean symbols: Queen-Regent Tar-Míriel in her regalia (seaweed crown, sunburst crown, waterdrop jewel crown).
Part 5 in a series on the colours of Númenór.
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