Chapter Text
In the early mornings of her youth, Míriel took to sharing with her father all her ambitions and hopes. No one else would disturb them as they lay by the shining pond under the towering trees dreaming of what could be. “After you become King, when I’m Queen, I’m going to mend this island. The Faithful will be accepted and there won’t be any more pain. We won’t have to hide things from the King’s Men. Great-grandmas Lindórië and Azarinzil will get married and I shall give them flowers at the wedding.”
Her father smiled upon her and was proud. “I could not ask for a more worthy successor.” Míriel savoured those words and clung onto them for all her years.
The sky was devoid of stars when Zimraphel stood next to Zigûr on the balcony. No worthy successor of her father was she. This monster was in the kingdom that should have been hers and she could not bring herself to hate him. He listened to her and spoke with her as an equal which few did.
“You wish for the freedom which was stolen. I cannot rid us of Pharazôn as much as I would like to, but I can give you power to control your fate. I give you a ring that will enhance all of your strengths. Take it, and your vision of Númenor may become reality,” Zigûr spoke.
Zimraphel gave credence to his words. Over the years she had felt her very being wast away as tyranny crept further upon her home. To her any chance to reverse that was worth considering. Her desire to protect and heal her people had been with her throughout all her life, it had to be enough to stand against the inclinations of Zigûr. “I will take it.”
Zimraphel stretched out her hand and Zigûr placed the ring within it. Shivers from the metal passed through her. The jewelry was as heavy in her palm as the Doom she brought upon herself and her people.