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A sudden shiver ran through Míriel’s body when she held onto Elendil’s arm; there was a coldness and a tension in him that she had never felt before. The warmth he always treated her with was now completely gone. Probably unfamiliar eyes would not notice, as he was as polite as always, but Míriel could read him well, and something was obviously amiss.
They walked to her chambers, in complete silence, the tension between them palpable. It seemed to her that Elendil’s steps were quicker than usual, as if he was trying to escape from her as soon as possible. She wondered if something had happened, if she had done something to upset him, but nothing came to her mind.
Trying to regain some calm, she started fiddling with the fabric of her dress with her free hand. She had to approach him carefully, not to further distress him. Taking a deep breath, she said quietly, in a relaxed tone, “Silence seems to walk with us everywhere we go as of lately.”
“Pardon?” Lost in thought as he was, her words suddenly took him back to reality.
“That is almost the first word I hear you say in the last couple of days.” She smiled, keeping her voice soft, making an effort to prove him she was not angry nor offended, just concerned about him.
Elendil had dreaded this moment, that had to come sooner or later. Míriel had always shown a great ability to read him better than anyone else. So even though he had tried to hide his discomfort, it was clear that he had not succeeded.
“I apologize, my mind was elsewhere. It will not happen again, my Queen.” His words puzzled her; as respectful as they were, the coldness in his voice deeply affected her.
Maybe it would be wise not to press any further, for he was a reserved man. But, even though they had faced many hardships together, never had he behaved in this way, so she could not overlook it. Míriel took a moment to look for the right words, but in the end all she could utter, was, “Do not I have your trust, Elendil?”
A sharp pang of guilt shot through him. It was not his intention to worry her, far from it; especially not now that she was in a difficult situation. In fact, he had tried to keep some distance, believing this way it would less compromising and painful for her. For them both. Even though their bond was strong, he could not ignore his position–he was just a Captain, and he had no right of interfering in royal matters.
“Of course. But I would not want to trouble you with trivial matters when you already carry on your shoulders more than any person should.” And before he could stop himself, he added in a low voice, “Especially now.”
“And still I would try my best to ease your worries. Just like you have before, too.” She quickly replied, while her thumb rubbed soft circles on his arm, trying to soothe him, maybe calm him enough, so he would share his concerns.
Tired of hiding, and unable to lie to her anymore, he finally confessed, “How could you ease my troubles when it is you I worry about?”
His revelation made her heart ache. She prepared to reply, but he continued, “I apologize again. It is inappropriate to overstep in such a way. It is not up to me to interfere in the decisions of those who are above me, decisions on matters that do not concern me, and I do not understand.” At that moment it dawned on her what may be the cause of his distress. And she did not know how to address this matter, not with him.
Luckily, they were now reaching her chambers, so instead of dismissing him, she decided to let him enter with her. Maybe the privacy of locked doors would help them talk more honestly, without fear of other people listening.
Míriel let go of his arm. Turning her back and taking a few steps from him, she said, “Some decisions and sacrifices, although painful at first, and contrary to all logic, may be beneficial for many in the future.” Her words, cryptic as they may sound, were perfectly clear for him.
“So it is true. You are to marry Pharazôn…” His voice faltering as he spoke, unable to hide his pain.
“Being the Queen of Númenor means carrying the responsibility of ruling the lives of thousands of people, but not having the privilege of governing your own.” She took a breath, gathering courage to continue. “It is my duty to do the best for Númenor. Even when it requires great sacrifices on my part. I am willing to pay the price.”
Elendil took a step towards the Queen, while putting all his effort in keeping his emotions at bay. But her willingness to sacrifice herself in such a way, his frustration at not being able to stop any of this, took over him.
“There surely must be another way. Not marriage. This is a price no one should have to pay. Not you.” He groaned, his voice filled with desperation, his fists clenched in anger. And in his despair, Elendil feared he had spoken too much.
The Queen continued, as if reciting a discourse she had learned by heart. “A marriage is a joyous occasion, especially when it can bring peace and stability to a whole nation.” But maybe her words were more directed to herself than anyone else.
“What brings joy to so many, might also bring sorrow to the heart of others.” He regretted having uttered those words as soon as they left his lips, the tears now threatening to spill from his eyes.
The tremble in his voice betrayed a pain and despair she had never heard before from him. And maybe that was what pushed her to open her heart to him. Or maybe it was the realization that she may lose him forever when her marriage took place.
“Even if I marry Pharazôn, it is only for the benefit of our people. My heart and soul were vowed long ago to someone else.” She whispered, now facing him.
A pang of pain crossed his chest. He knew he had no right to expect anything from her. He was but a sea Captain, and she was his Queen, how could he dare to even dream of being deserving of her affections. Not in all the lives of Men would he be worthy or honorable enough as to inspire such feelings in her heart.
“Someone has been blessed by the Valar themselves, to receive such a gift from you.” And after a moment he softly added, “my Queen” in an attempt to return to their usual formalities and maybe control his tongue and his heart.
The sadness in his tone did not go unnoticed by the Queen, who smiling tenderly replied, “You should know it well, Elendil.”
A single tear fell from his eye, overwhelmed by her declaration, even before he could consciously comprehend the weight of her words. Unable to move, he stood in place, his gaze fixed on her.
Not for the first time, she wished she could see his face, see if there was any reaction to her words. Slowly, she started walking towards him, her hand extended to find him. When her fingers brushed against his arm, his whole body trembled, stiff, his fists still clenched, his emotions about to overflow.
“Míriel, mecin…”
His voice was filled with an unbearable brokenness. But the warmth she so had missed in him had returned at uttering her name.
She gasped, her heart quickening, not fully believing her ears. Shaking with emotion, she softly reached her hand to his face. “Never before had you called me by my name.”
Elendil bent his head, until their foreheads were touching, surrendering to her, unable to keep on the mask that always hid his feelings. Míriel was glad she was still wearing her blindfold, so that he could not see the tears that were welling in her eyes.
“Maybe not out loud. But that is the only name my heart yields to.”
Míriel though there should be some comfort in his confession, but she found none. All she could do was bury her face in his chest, breathing him in, holding firmly onto his clothes. Right there and then, Elendil knew without a doubt that a part of his soul would always belong to her, never to return to him. After some hesitation, he wound his arms tightly around her, holding her as close to him as possible. In his embrace, her tears finally started falling helplessly. For the first time since her marriage was arranged, she cried–for a future she did not think possible, and had lost even before it had the chance to start.