Sometimes, I have wondered, what is the fate of my people? We currently control the greatest naval empire in the history of the world. The empires of those in Middle-earth can no longer claim to be a match to our grand armada. They also control but a fraction of the amount of land that we control, for we have a great empire of stone and sea.

But we can claim more than that. On several occasions, we have fought against the disciple of the Dark Foe, Sauron. We rescued the Noldor from his advancing armies and fought his armies again on the shores of Mordor. The second time, we captured him, bringing him back here as a prisoner. Even the Valar failed to imprison him, yet we did not.

I could go on listing our great many accomplishments. Not just of the conquering variety, but also our great advances in art and science. No one can make ships or buildings like we can. Only the dwarves are our equal when it comes to stone and metal working. We have entire buildings dedicated purely to the display of grand artwork, even entire buildings that are nothing but works of art!

However, I worry that we are an empire with no destiny. After all, when we have conquered all that there is too conquer, when we have raised art to a level so high none can surpass it, when there are no technologies to be created, for we have made them all, what happens to us then? What is Ilúvatar's plan for us?

Is what the mad whisperings of Sauron suggest, that our fate is to overthrow the Valar? Such thoughts are laced with heresy, and my hand shudders to write them in this book that is otherwise noble and pure. However, Sauron is no longer the only one whispering of these things. He now has worshippers who see him as more a lesser Vala than a Maia (for the difference is slight and subtle). Even Ar-Pharazôn is beginning to be swayed by these opinions. I see how he moves deeper and deeper into the shadow with each setting of the Sun.

Even if (and again, I hate to write these words), we were to give in to Despair and attack Valinor, then what? If, by some foul machination of the Enemy, we somehow won that encounter, what would become of us then? Sauron claims that we would become immortal gods, more powerful than the Elves, but Sauron claims many things. Even his most ardent supporters see that this claim is rarefied nonsense.

Clearly though, if Valinor became ours, it would not be long before we ruled the rest of the world. The Elves would likely become powerless to stop us, and the minute countries of mere Men would quickly fall under our glorious banner.

And then what? What does Eru say become of us then? Or is it as Sauron says? Is there no One who created us in the beginning? When we kill the Valar, is there no longer a hand writing in the pages of the universe our destinies; now we look for ourselves to see how the universe moves and does not move?

With each passing day, I fear more for our future, because I believe that if we continue to listen to Sauron, nothing good can happen to us. Even should we somehow "win" and become the new powers of this world, what have we truly won? We have the key to unlock our cage, but doing so only shows us that there are cages outside no key can unlock. Or, even worse, our cage was meant to keep us in, but only because the Valar and Ilúvatar could conceive of now better way to keep what lurks outside from coming in. May Eru have mercy on our souls.

-From the Abridged Journals of Arnuzîr

Aulenmir wandered home in the darkness, not entirely aware of his surroundings. The thick clouds blocked out what little sunlight was left at this time, and the swirling snow would have made it impossible to see much even if there had been a credible source of illumination present. Anyone not as experienced as Aulenmir was in these mountains would have been lost.

However, Aulenmir had not been living in the Ered Nimrais for the past several years without an understanding of its layout. For starters, he knew that if he stayed out of the trees, he would be following the only path on this mountain that was actually walkable. He also knew that if he just followed that path downhill, he would eventually return to his house.

Though at first he ran, trying to escape the cries of the corvids that flocked to the unburied dead, he could not keep that pace up in heavy snows. Especially not after the trauma of the past two days. So, he soon settled into a rapid walk. He passed by the Ephûl war camp, which was deserted. Every single one of the tribe that had been able to respond to Jamai's call had come, and each of those people had fought, regardless of age or gender or strength.

Aulenmir was sure it had been the same for the Keraq'ar. This had been an all-out war for both sides, with only one winner and one loser. The Ephûl had only these mountains as their home and could not afford to let someone else take over. Aulenmir didn't quite know the origins of the Keraq'ar, but he assumed they were refugees of some sort, seeking to make their home in a safer part of the world. Unfortunately, the White Mountains was not that place.

It took Aulenmir the greater part of the night to return home. When he finally got back, the clouds and snow were gone, replaced by a grey, star-studded night. It was a few hours before dawn and the sky was already beginning to color itself for the next day. Aulenmir let himself inside and, taking care not to disturb Peladin and Sirilfa, crept into his room.

Noldolma was there waiting for him, and of course she jumped all over him, glad he was home safe and sound. She was clever enough not to make any noise other, and restrained herself to frenetic licking and panting. After shoving her off, Aulenmir crept into his bed and fell fast asleep, dreaming troubled dreams of bloody snow, bloody sand, and three blood-stained temples.

When he awoke again, it was nearly noon. He could hear Peladin and Sirilfa outside, taking care of various chores as he had shown them earlier. Aulenmir smiled to himself. It seemed as though they had grown up so fast; here they were, taking care of themselves with just a little push from him. In the end, it looked like he had something to thank Jamai for.

Aulenmir took care of several chores within the house, including cleaning up a few things inside (Peladin and Sirilfa still had a few things to learn about neatness), and cleaning up his bookshelf, which looked like it had been reorganized by someone to make finding certain books easier. However, that someone had messed up the order that Aulenmir liked his books to be arranged in, so he spent most of his time reordering.

Knowing that they would undoubtedly be very hungry after the long day, and that they probably hadn't been eating as well as they would if he was there, Aulenmir also began setting up dinner for that night. He wanted them to eat early, because he was planning on finishing the story up within the next few days so they could talk about a few others things of importance.

He had just finished when Peladin and Sirilfa came back inside, arguing, of course.

"It's your turn to clean the cutlery," said, Peladin, doing his best to establish order.

"Nuh uh," cried Sirilfa. "I'm reading tonight, so you get to clean."

"Who said you get to read tonight?" asked Peladin, clearly feeling as though his very world was assaulted by his sister's lack of order. "If anyone's reading it'll be-"

"Me," said Aulenmir, stepping away from his bookshelf into the kitchen. Immediately, the two siblings broke off their arguing. They instantly surrounded Aulenmir, hugging and kissing him, and begging to hear stories of what had happened to him.

Aulenmir, while gratified to see their love for him, was in no mood to talk about what had happened with the Ephûl anytime soon. So, after he had shaken them off of him, he told the children that after they ate the dinner he had prepared, they would continue with the story. And so, that is what they did.

The first time Ancalimë ever saw a boy was when she was seven. An errand boy came to her farm from a distant farm. Ancalimë wandered across him as he was eating food. She stared at him curiously as he stared back, utterly without concern for her rank. He offered her a loaf of food, telling her she was pretty.

"Get away, you vagrant!" cried one of the women who lived with Ancalimë. "Go and take that message home to your mother, Ibal!"

Ibal laughed, jumped up, and began running away, saying, "I'm glad you've got such a close eye on here, grandmother Zamîn!" He then leapt over a fence and went back to her home.

Zamîn clucked her tongue at him. She was an old country woman, and didn't take nonsense from anyone, not even Ancalimë's mother. She wasn't in the least bothered by her, and usually ignored Erendis' instructions on how to interact with Ancalimë. So, when Ancalimë asked her next question, she was willing to answer.

"What was that?" asked Ancalimë.

"Hmmm? Oh, I guess you've never really met a boy before. They tend to be loud, obnoxious, and always eating. That one in particular fits those qualities. However, one day he'll grow up to be a fine productive man. When his father returns, he will be wonderfully older and more mature. Like some others in these lands."

"He has a father?" she asked, still very inquisitive.

"Yes, definitely. His name is Ulbar, although some would call him Sheep-lord. He is in fact distantly related to you, for though he be a shepherd, he is distantly related to the King in Armenelos. He tends the sheep of the great lord in the South."

"Why is he not here?"

Zamîn snorted. "He went off the sail the seas with your father, Lord Aldarion. He's gone know, and has been gone for several years. Valar knows where or why."

Ancalimë then left, feeling a vague sense of unease. She had grown up not really knowing who her father was, and she had never heard him named that way before. Later that day, she asked her mother about it.

Erendis was shocked, for she had never before really talked about Ancalimë's father to her. "Why do you ask?" she said, trying to stay calm.

Ancalimë didn't respond to her question, instead asking "When will he return?"

Erendis became ice-cold. "I don't know, nor do I care. All that matters is that you have a caring mother who will never abandon you. So long as you stay by me, that is." Ancalimë did not ask about her father again.

A pleasant, lonely year passed, followed by another. Springs, summers, and autumns came and went, until word came that the air was bringing Aldarion back. However, Erendis did not speak of this to others, and forbade it from being spoken about Númenor.

So it was that Aldarion found himself returning to an empty quay when his long voyage ended. He was more than a little surprised, as he had thought his long-awaited return would be filled with people overjoyed to have him back. Instead, only the harsh croaking of the gulls greeted his men and him.

He went to his house but found that it had been abandoned, with no indication why. Most importantly, Erendis was also not there to welcome him back, nor was his daughter, who he did not know. Nor was there anyone nearby able or willing to help Aldarion.

Aldarion decided that the first thing he would do is go to Meneldur, his father, and be received by him. However, the welcome he was given was far from the one that he had hoped for. Meneldur seemed less like a father now, and more like a noble King. And Aldarion felt less like his son, or even the crown prince, but rather a proud, surly admiral unwilling to work under his great commander-in-chief.

"Long have you tarried from the straightforward path that should bring you into full glory," Meneldur intoned, doing his very best to display his full displeasure. "Many more years than three have passed since you left us."

Aldarion grimaced, and swallowed bitterly. He kneeled down in front of his King. "My liege, I am aware of this. Many were the times were I felt the strain of being away from home for so long. Great is the count of nights were I cried thinking of my poor daughter who I could not be there to raise. But the need of countless other daughters of men was greater.

"For, although I could not bear to leave, I could not bring myself to return. In my absence, many great projects that will make this world great had failed. Without me there, the miniscule empires of Middle-earth fell into ruin. Disorder and pain rule without me."

Meneldur sat unmoved by Aldarion's plea. "I am sure that is true. Yet, I fear you will find the same is true here."

"I had worried as much, and that is something I will try to mend soon. But we cannot ignore the plight of Middle-earth. Many long years have passed in brightness since our ancestors bravely struggled with the forces of the West against the Black Foe of the World, and since then the memories of a brave new world have faded.

"Men no longer sing of the glory of the Eldar and the Valar. Those tales have sunk into the dusty twilight of this new era. There is much which I wish to tell you in detail about how the situation has deteriorated."

After considering his son's words, Tar-Meneldur softened marginally. "It is good that you come to me with these concerns, and I agree that we must talk at length. However, he who has a broken house cannot be expected to mend the house of others. There is something else that I believe needs to be taken care of first and foremost. My son, I say to thee: return home!"

Aldarion gritted his teeth and stood straight once more. "Father, that too seems to have fallen to disorder. If you know where my home be, then tell me."

Meneldur raised an eyebrow. "Do you not know? Home is where your wife is. And, as you have given her no particular reason to hold to her word, she saw fit to return to her home. She dwells in Emerië, in the center of this land, with her daughter."

"Had someone thought to alert of this development, I could have skipped this meeting entirely and seen to my other half at once. At least I can be glad that you were willing to give me this priceless gem of information and I did not have to beg for it."

Aldarion presented a sealed letter to Tar-Meneldur. "This letter is but one example of the troubles that plague Middle-earth, even among the Eldar." He then left the room. Soon, he had saddled up a horse and rode off to Emerië. He brought along two companions, Ulbar, the aforementioned father of Ibal, and Henderch of the Westlands.

The three men rode their horses hard, and stopped only a few times on the course of their journey. By the night of the day after they had left the presence of Tar-Meneldur, the three had reached the end. In the setting sun, Erendis' house seemed ominous and proud. Aldarion blew upon his horn to let her know that he had at last returned.

As he rode up to the house and dismounted, Aldarion saw Erendis gaze at him from the steps leading up to her magnificent house. She seemed especially pale in the twilight, and her eyes shone brightly.

"Late you have come, my Lord," she said. "I'm afraid that I long stopped expecting your return, as did the rest of us. Unfortunately, there will be no great welcome for you, my returning hero, although had you arrived six years prior then there would be something more than that for you."

Aldarion put a smile on his face. "All is fine. I am a mariner, and we are not hard to please."

"Good," was her only reply. She then turned on him and strode back inside, leaving him at the door. As she walked inside, Aldarion followed her in. At the same time, several women, including an old crone, moved down the steps. The old crone spoke to the men, making sure they would definitely hear her.

"No longer is this your home. Eat instead at the housing at the bottom of the hill!"

Ulbar remained calm. "Fret not, Zamîn. I will go home as soon as my master is settled in here. I trust all is well there, with you watching over?"

Zamîn snorted. "Your son goes on eating and eating; I doubt you will recognize each other. However, you should seek out the truth for yourself, for how would I know what is happening in your own household. For sure, I can tell you that you will receive a happier greeting than your Master shall."

Erendis had moved further into the house by the time Aldarion stepped into the opening hallway. He was led by several servants into a dining hall with a table set with an evening meal. However, Erendis did not join him for his meal. However, she did come down to talk to him after he had finished with his meal.

"You must be very tired after your long ride," she said sympathetically. "But do not worry. I have prepared a more than adequate guest-room for you, when you are ready for it. My servants will gladly report for your every need."

Aldarion did not reply, not trusting himself to stay civil in his response. He contented himself with retiring earlier and falling into a deep sleep. He dreamed only of Valinor, forgetting for a time the mortal pressures of Númenor and Middle-earth.

He dreamed of wide fields filled with flowers that no longer blossomed in Middle-earth. He saw the terrifying height of mountains that even the great Hithaeglir are only a mere shadow of, raised by Morgoth in an attempt the thwart Oromë and the elves. He caught a tiny glimpse of the old light that once lit that radiant land, in a time before there was despair. But then, he was jerked back to reality.

A cock crowed loudly in the distance and Aldarion sat up in bed. It did not take long for him to recall the events of the previous day. From there, he had soon forgotten the peace of his dream and was instead fairly irate. He decided to avoid having to deal with Erendis directly; it was clear that she wanted nothing to do with him. Yes, that was the only reason he didn't want to face her.

Aldarion resolved to instead find Henderch and ride south to Hyarostar. There, he would meet with his kinsman, Hallatan (whose family prided themselves on being closely related to Haleth), sheep-lord of Hyarastorni. From there, he would send word to Erendis to bring his daughter to Armenelos. It would be best not to fight her on her own ground.

However, as he stepped out of his room, Erendis came upon him. She looked as though she had not slept for the entire night. For a moment, Aldarion wished that Erendis could have shared the dream he had with her, but sighed inwardly. He felt that it was not to be.

Erendis was the first one to break the silence. "I see that you intend to leave already, my lord. How incongruous that is with the time you took in arriving here. It seems as though you are a mariner through and through; having been bored by the women of this house you will continue on to the next one." She paused for a moment, taking a careful look at Aldarion's face. He said nothing, but she went regardless.

"Oh? Was that not your purpose here? Then, by Eru, what was your business. Or does that not concern the likes of me?"

Aldarion answered, ignoring her baiting words. "I was told by Tar-Meneldur that I would find my wife and my daughter in this dwelling in the hills of Emerië. Having been here, I now know that what he said about my wife was not true, but what of my daughter? Do I have one still?"

"Years ago you could have," she responded. "As for whether you still have, well she has yet to awaken."

"Then let her do so," he said, "While I fetch my horse. I will at least meet with her before I go." He then turned away from Erendis and went to go find where his horse had been stabled.

Erendis deliberated on whether or not she would let Ancalimë meet with Aldarion. Personally, she had no inclination to do so, for somewhat apparent reasons. She did not see Aldarion as any sort of father with rights over her or her daughter. She also did not want to lose the monopoly she had on Ancalimë's love, something she did not have with Aldarion.

However, despite her inclinations, she did not wish to lose the favor of the King outright. For though Meneldur and Almarian wished that Aldarion and Erendis remain together, if Erendis was to lose their favor she believed that they would switch to supporting Aldarion. So, she allowed them to meet.

When Aldarion and Henderch returned on their horses, Erendis was there to see them off. Ancalimë stood stiff on the threshold next to her, making no attempt at courtesy towards either man. "Who are you?" she asked. "Why do you ask that I, and no one else, arise early so that you may leave?"

Aldarion looked upon her strictly, but within he was joyous and smiling. For while Erendis looked at Ancalimë and saw only her own child, Aldarion saw that she was a child in the mark of him, despite what Erendis had attempted to do.

Keeping his face unsmiling, he replied, "Long ago, you knew me and I knew you, Lady. However, today I am just a messenger from the King in Armenelos. You are bidden to be reminded that you are the daughter of the King's heir, and undoubtedly you will be his heir after that. Remember, that his house will not forever be your dwelling.

"Now, I must bid thee farewell, for the King undoubtedly desires my company once again. Good day!" Aldarion kissed Ancalimë's hand. The only token of affection he showed for Erendis was to wave his hand at her as he rode off in the distance.

Erendis watched him riding away from the comfort of her household and noted with despair that he rode not toward Armenelos but instead toward Hyarastorni. Then, she cried, in part out of grief that he had gone, but in part anger at herself.

Too late, she had realized that Aldarion did not see himself at fault anywhere near as much as Erendis saw him. Rather than taking her rebukes as opportunities to redeem himself, he instead chose to either ignore or go through those veiled accusations.

Rather than ask for forgiveness, which she so desperately wished to give, Aldarion had acted as though he were right and she and Ancalimë where the ones who had left the straightforward path. She now saw Aldarion as Núneth had warned her so long ago: quite powerful and not easily tamed. Fell and reckless, driven more than she had once thought, and deadly once cold. Like the sea that he coveted. Then and there, Erendis swore to herself that Aldarion would not find her so easy to master. "He may be the ocean, but I am the steel that not even his waves can corrode, but only the heat of our love can shape. He will find that out, even when he becomes King!"

As for himself, Aldarion rode to Hyarastorni, the hall where Hallatan, sheep-lord of the Southeast, ruled. He more than took his time on the journey, not eager to repeat the two-day ride he had made to visit Erendis. Instead, he took his time to enjoy the beautiful land that one day he would grow up to rule.

Although Mittalmar wasn't especially pretty, certainly not during the rainy season that Númenor experienced when most places had winter, it still looked lovely in the Prince's eyes. He took his sweet time, spending an entire day crossing the Siril, which was a quite lovely river that flowed from Meneltarma.

He came near Hyarastorni and saw that the shepherds were celebrating the return of Ulbar. They were feasting and dancing in the meadow in front of the household. Aldarion saw Ulbar's wife playing the pipes so that the others had a beat to set their jig to. Aldarion smiled, glad to see that not all were separated as he.

However, Aldarion was soon observed. Ulbar saw him on his horse in the distance and called, "The Great Captain!" Aldarion's mood turned sour, reminded once again of his troubles. Ibal ran over to Aldarion's horse. "Lord Captain!" he cried out in joy. For most of his life, he had been inspired by the stories Zamîn told of Aldarion's wicked ways. Not quite the effect she had intended to have.

"What?" asked Aldarion shortly. "I must continue on to Armenlos!"

"I just wanted to ask when a man is ready to go on the seas."

Aldarion laughed and answered acridly: "You may set sail when you are older than this island, and have nothing tying you to it. Or whenever you like; for such is the nature of the sea. Now, son of Ulbar, where is your mother, for I wish to talk to her."

Ulbar's wife came forward and Aldarion took her hand. "Madam, I must thank you for what your husband has done. For six years, he has given me aid unasked for. I will give you this for my thanks for allowing your husband to be mind, even if for a brief time." From his pocket, Aldarion took out a magnificent golden ring that had a glorious red gem set into it. "This come from the King of Elves, who will undoubtedly saw that I made an excellent choice with my giving of gifts."

Aldarion left as quickly as he had come, soon riding away over the hills. Hallatan heard of his strange visit and wondered at it, as did the other people of Mittalmar. He told Henderch to go where he will, he had business back in Rómenna. Although Henderch protested against his dismissal, even though it was wanted, Aldarion told him that was the way of the world. Then, they parted ways and Aldarion left, never to return to Emerië again.

"Wow, we sure covered a lot of ground, Unca," Sirilfa said. She yawned before continuing, "Are Erendis and Aldarion ever going to get back together?"

Aulenmir smiled. "Well, I think that is a story for another day. Actually, at this rate we will probably have this story finished in no time at all."

Peladin also had a question he wanted to ask. "What was Aldarion so busy doing, exactly?"

Aulenmir shrugged. "The records don't give many specific examples. Likely, he was doing a lot of work helping and advising the various kingdoms and tribes that still dominated Middle-earth at the time. He also would have worked hard to make sure that someone was keeping the forests and the havens in order. He may even had begun to encounter the forces of Sauron at this time, though he didn't know it."

"Thanks, Aulenmir!" the children cried. Aulenmir smiled at them and sent them off to bed. Once they were gone, the smile slipped away.