Disclaimer: I do not own anything, though I wish I did...
Amandil has always been a fascinating character for me. His bravery in attempting to beg aid from Manwe is wonderful. I might just revisit this later with an AU story in which he reaches Valinor and lives there happily.
Amandil looked for what he knew could very well be the last time at his beloved isle. Numenor. Its rugged cliffs, soft downs, rich vineyards, high moors, rocky shores, and fragrant trees; all were loved and he would not see them desecrated. He would no longer see his beloved isle under the influence of one who had served Morgoth.
When he had told his plan to his son, Elendil, his son had been shocked. He had pleaded with his father not to do such a thing, for they would never see each other in Arda again, most likely.
In all likelihood Amandil would never reach Aman in time to beg the Valar for aid. Mortal man was not permitted to set foot on the Undying Lands. But surely, just this once?
He could perhaps anchor his small boat just off the shore and flag down an Elf to deliver his message.
But that was unlikely. In all truth, he had small idea of what he was going to do once (or if) he reached Valinor.
He had carefully chosen the three who were to go with him. He had had a wild idea that, just like Earendil, he would bring three companions whom the Valar would send back to Middle-earth peacefully.
They had been staunch and loyal throughout their service to him. And when he begged of them this last favor, none of them faltered. And he was grateful for that.
Amandil remembered the last argument with his friend. He had seen the influence Sauron had been exerting over Ar-Pharazon, and he had attempted to warn Ar-Pharazon of it. But it had not worked. He had been kicked out of the council for the warning.
And then, when he had heard of this Great Armament, he had been filled with dread. He had told his son to wait with supplied ships in Romenna for an escape. He simply hoped that Elendil and his sons had followed his advice.
The shore of Numenor was fast fading from sight, the boat being propelled by a swift breeze from the East. Manwe had granted him that, perhaps there was still hope. Amandil looked back. There lay the island which his distant ancestor, Elros, had set up a kingdom on. Where his sons and grandsons lived. Where Evil slowly took control.
Amandil gritted his teeth and turned to the West. What ever was to come, he was ready.
Thank you for reading! As always, please review!
I do hope I've got his characterization down correctly.