Lienilde smiled at the memory of that night, so many years ago, as she gazed across the sea. The sun had begun its descent and the reflections on the waves were slowly turning from a shimmery gold to a rich orange. Lienilde then glanced the other way to see the shipbuilders hard at work in the harbor. The ship in which she stood had just been completed the previous day, and once it was loaded with supplies it would be ready for its maiden voyage.
Lienilde turned her back to the harbor to face the sea once more. Looking upon the rolling waves and the clear sky, growing darker as the sun set, was much more peaceful than watching the harbor workers. She leaned against the ship's railing and returned to her memories.
She still remembered the day Isildur proposed perfectly, though the memory always brought a twinge of embarrassment as she recalled her hesitation. She knew that Isildur would have much preferred an immediate, emphatic "yes" from her. However her mother, and later Isildur, had always told her that she had a tendency to over analyze things, so her questions should not have surprised either of them. Yet in the end it mattered not, for they were married now and that was what was most important.
Lienilde and Isildur had told their families of their betrothal the following day, giving Lienilde a night to fully absorb all that had happened. Isildur's family was hardly surprised and was very pleased, though the news came as a bit more of a shock to Lienilde's parents. Yet her parents soon embraced the couple's decision, for they knew that Isildur was a good man worthy of being their daughter's husband. No doubt they had also seen that Lienilde was nearing the completion of her transformation from girl to woman, in part due to Isildur's influence.
The couple was betrothed for a year, partly so that their wedding would not interfere with the birth of Ardil and Inzil's first child, and partly so that they could simply enjoy a traditional courtship. They were married the following spring, just a little over a year after Nimloth's seedling first opened its leaves. The wedding ceremony was short and simple, very similar to her brother Ardil's wedding, but the memory that Lienilde most treasured from that day was what transpired just before the ceremony: she and Isildur, along with their closest family members, had gathered in Elendil's house while Amandil spoke a prayer blessing their upcoming union.
Lienilde completed her apprenticeship not long after they were wed, and continued her healer's duties for many years until the birth of their first child, Elendur, just twenty years ago. After that she stayed at home with Elendur, though she continued to act as a healer for her neighbors and a few loyal patients who would come to her home.
Over the years Isildur often took her to the shipyards to show her his work, and sometimes they would set sail for a few weeks, though they never strayed far from Numenor. Lienilde's love for the sea continued to grow, and she often spent time in the harbor or on the beach when she was not needed at home.
However, life had not grown happier over the years. Sauron's hold on the King strengthened with each year, and now almost the entire isle openly worshiped Melkor as Ar-Pharazon fully abandoned the ways of his fathers. Sauron continually offered up human sacrifices to the Dark Lord, the victims chosen from among the Faithful, though they were always -- and often falsely -- accused of some crime first. (Thus Isildur never took his wife to Armenelos to show her the palace as he had hoped to, for they deemed the journey too dangerous.) Sauron claimed that the sacrifices would keep death from the land, yet the opposite proved true: men began to fight and murder for little cause as Sauron's servants spread strife throughout the land. The Valar began to send great and terrible signs, yet the people paid little heed and never repented for more than a season. Lightning from the Eagles of Manwe regularly struck down the citizens of Numenor. Great storms sunk their ships and droughts ruined their crops, even though in generations past the weather had always been favorable to the Numenoreans' desires. The number of healers in Romenna alone had grown nearly tenfold in recent years, though often they could do little good.
Now Sauron was urging the King to make open war upon Valinor itself, claiming that it was his right to take it and that by doing so, he would finally achieve immortality and escape the imminent Doom of Man. Thus it came to pass that Amandil set sail to Aman himself, in an attempt to plead the case of Numenor before the Valar and ask for their mercy. Yet Elendil and his sons knew that Earendil's feat could not be repeated in the history of Men, and thus they already mourned for Amandil, doubting that he would ever return. Numenor's fall was too great and too complete for it to be redeemed by one man's act.
"Lienilde." The sound of her husband's voice startled her and she spun to face him. He stood tall before her, the sunset glowing in his dark eyes, the wind catching at his unbound hair and loose tunic. Though a few gray hairs had already appeared on Lienilde's head, Isildur looked nearly the same as the day they were betrothed, with only a few lines at the corners of his eyes to indicate that he had aged at all.
"Lienilde," he repeated, stepping closer and taking her hand. "It is time. We will set sail within the hour."
"So -- so soon?" Lienilde stammered. "Why? What has happened?"
"The King has determined to go to war, and tried to force my father into his service. Father managed to elude the King's servants and his ship is setting sail as we speak. We must leave soon."
"Oh Isildur," Lienilde nearly cried, drawing him into her arms. Though she had known this time would come, she had always hoped that it would not. Ever since Amandil had departed on his last journey, Elendil and his sons had begun preparing ships, so that they and a few of the Faithful might leave Numenor at a moment's notice. Indeed, the Faithful's families had been living on the ships for the past few weeks; Lienilde had not left the harbor for more than an hour's time since then.
Even though Lienilde would surely miss the isle of her birth, what saddened her the most was knowing that she would never see most of her family again. Failon and his wife and young daughter would be accompanying them and were already on board, and that brought her some comfort. However, Ardil and Inzil, along with their children, had long ago fallen to worshiping Melkor despite pleas from Lienilde and her parents for them to stop. She knew that she could never turn their hearts now and that they could not come with her; their fate must be that of Numenor. Amandil was adamant that as few as possible knew of the Faithful's preparations, and thus Lienilde could not even tell her brother goodbye: the long ago night that she had told Ardil of Isildur's deed in Armenelos was the first and last time that she shared any secrets of the Faithful with her elder brother. She had tried to tell Ardil of Isildur's miraculous healing a few days later, but he had brushed it off as mere coincidence. Thus she understood Amandil's concern and she had no desire to betray the Faithful, but she also knew that the grief of leaving Ardil behind would always be with her.
Her parents were also staying in Numenor, but for different reasons. Mandil and Melde, having wed rather late in life, were already reaching the end of their lives. Even though they sympathized with Lienilde's plight, they had no wish to begin such a journey at their age. They were content knowing that she and Failon and their families would be safe, and thus they wished to be with Ardil and his children until their last days. In a way Lienilde almost admired her parents, for like the kings of old they did not fear death, but still, such thoughts did nothing to brighten her heart. She had already bid what farewells she could, and now she must leave her family's fate in the hands of the Valar.
"I will miss them," Lienilde whispered into Isildur's shoulder, tears flowing down her face.
"I know," Isildur replied, squeezing her tight. He said no more, and did not need to, for they both knew the other's thoughts and burdens.
Lienilde stood for a long moment, wrapped in her husband's arms, her own hands encircling his waist, her head resting in that familiar spot on his chest. That she grieved for her family and feared for the future unknown, she could not deny. Yet through all of this turmoil, she knew that one thing would remain constant: Isildur would always be with her. His arms had held her and comforted her in many times past, and she knew they would comfort her again. Wherever the sea may take them, whatever the winds may bring their way, Lienilde could endure it with Isildur by her side.
Yet even as these thoughts went through her mind the wind shifted and blew from the West, bringing to her the sweet scent of the flowers of Nimloth's seedling, which was already hidden below deck on a nearby ship. Lienilde smiled through her tears.
As is recorded elsewhere, Elendil, his sons, and their families took nine ships and anchored them off the eastern coast of Numenor. The King and his soldiers bothered them no more, as they set sail into the West to make war upon the Valar themselves. A month after Ar-Pharazon first broke the Ban of the Valar and sailed into the West, the Valar unleashed their full wrath upon the isle. The very waves formed by Numenor's plunge into the sea bore Elendil's ships to the shores of Middle-Earth.
There Elendil and his sons established the kingdoms of Gondor and Arnor, where they ruled for over one hundred years. During this time Lienilde bore two more sons, whom they named Aratan and Ciryon. Lienilde also continued her healer's duties, treating men injured in skirmishes against the Orcs of Mordor. She soon became thankful for the bit of foresight she had shown before fleeing Numenor: the few athelas plants she had taken on the ships proved very useful, for the healing herb did not grow natively in the lands of Middle-Earth.
Finally, Sauron made his move against the heirs of Earendil and seized Minas Ithil. During this attack, the White Tree of Gondor, Nimloth's scion, was burned, though once again Isildur saved a seedling, which he bore with him as they escaped. For after the attack on Minas Ithil, Isildur, Lienilde, and their three sons fled to the North and joined Elendil, while Anarion remained in Gondor to defend against Sauron's further advances. It was in Imladris that Lienilde gave birth to their fourth son, Valandil, and the two stayed behind in the safety of the valley while Isildur and their three elder sons marched to war with the Last Alliance of Elves and Men.
Thus Lienilde waited years for their return, and words cannot describe the pain she felt when the esquire Estelmo brought her tidings of her sons' deaths near Gladden Fields and of Isildur's disappearance and likely death. Her heart was shattered, and though she tried to remain strong for Valandil's sake, she was never fully healed. Years later, after Valandil was grown and established as the King of Arnor, and married with children of his own, Lienilde would welcome death as the Gift of Man, hoping to see her beloved husband again.
Yet Estelmo's words that horrible day brought her some comfort despite his dreadful news, to hear that Isildur had repented of his pride and had resisted the temptation of the Ring. "I cannot use it," Estelmo had overheard Isildur tell his eldest son Elendur. "I dread the pain of touching it. And I have not yet found the strength to bend it to my will. It needs one greater than I now know myself to be. My pride has fallen. It should go to the Keepers of the Three. Forgive me, and my pride that has brought you to this doom." (1)
Thus Isildur left the battlefield, where two of his sons already lay dead and the third was doomed to die, in an attempt to bring Sauron's ring to Imladris and to receive Elrond's counsel. Though a full age would pass before the wise would learn of Isildur's fate, Lienilde knew in her heart that when her husband died, he had been the compassionate, honorable man that she had married so many years ago on the fallen isle of Numenor.
So it was that he [Isildur came at last to the banks of Anduin at the dead of night, and he was weary; for he had made a journey that the Dunedain on such ground could have made no quicker, marching without halt and by day. The river was swirling dark and swift before him. He stood a while, alone and in despair. Then in haste he cast off all his armour and weapons, save a short sword at his belt, and plunged into the water. He was a man of strength and endurance that few even of the Dunedain of that age could equal, but he had little hope to gain the other shore. Before he had gone far he was forced to turn almost north against the current; and strive as he might he was ever swept down towards the tangles of the Gladden Fields. They were nearer than he had thought, and even as he felt the stream slacken and had almost won across he found himself struggling among great rushes and clinging weeds. There suddenly he knew that the Ring had gone. By chance, or chance well used, it had left his hand and gone where he could never hope to find it again. At first so overwhelming was his sense of loss that he struggled no more, and would have sunk and drowned. But swift as it had come the mood passed. The pain had left him. A great burden had been taken away. His feet found the river bed, and heaving himself up out of the mud he floundered through the reeds to a marshy islet close to the western shore. There he rose up out of the water: only a mortal man, a small creature lost and abandoned in the wilds of Middle-Earth. But to the night-eyed Orcs that lurked there on the watch he loomed up, a monstrous shadow of fear, with a piercing eye like a star [from the light of the Elendilmir. They loosed their poisoned arrows at it, and fled. Needlessly, for Isildur unarmed was pierced through heart and throat, and with a cry he fell back into the water. No trace of his body was ever found by Elves or Men. So passed the first victim of the malice of the masterless Ring: Isildur, second King of all the Dunedain, lord of Arnor and Gondor, and in that age of the World the last.
"Disaster of the Gladden Fields", from the book Unfinished Tales
(1) This is a quote from "The Disaster of the Gladden Fields," except that the last sentence came from a different conversation than the others. However, Isildur still spoke all of these words to Elendur at some point during the battle.
Also, several paragraphs of the epilogue are simply paraphrases or summaries of Tolkien's history of Numenor and Middle-Earth and of Isildur's fate. All of the historical information for this chapter can be found in "The Akallabeth," "The Disaster of the Gladden Fields," or in the appendices of Lord of the Rings. I also used the birthdates of Isildur's sons given in HOME XII.
Lienilde: "People-loving", wife of Isildur.
Vorime: "Faithful" or "Steadfast", healer and Lienilde's master.
Ardil: "Noble Friend", Lienilde's elder brother.
Failon: "Generous, Just", Lienilde's younger brother.
Melde: "Beloved", Lienilde's mother.
Mandil: "Good Friend", Lienilde's father.
Inzil: Adunaic for "Flower", Ardil's wife.
Author's Note: We have finally reached the end of the story, and I hope you enjoyed it! And thank you for all of the positive reviews!
Watch for a short two-chapter sequel to appear soon!