Chapter 3: The memory of Akallabêth

Armenelos the city of Kings, S.A. 3319

The order to assemble for the attack on Valinor was given, Ar-Pharazôn ordered all generals and captains to gather at Rómenna with all their forces. It was to be the greatest force the Númenór ever put in the field. To Thalion it was a signal to make his final move before he left his home forever.

Now he was walking with his own royal guards to the Royal Palace, through the silent city. It took his forces only little effort to subdue the remaining garrison. His goal was clear - to find his mother, to take the wealth of the royal treasury along with the heirlooms stored within, to confront his father, to take the royal heirlooms from him and finally took all of it to his few ships waiting for him at nearest shore and then to join the rest of the feet in Eldalondë.

The last two years he spent with preparations - gathering resources and convincing people and certain members of nobility of whom he knew that were faithful, have some repentant thoughts or simply hated his father's guts to join him. The faithful and repentant took a little effort to convince, once they saw the Elessar, clear proof that Valar still cared and that Thalion was chosen by them. After all, the Elfstone wouldn't get to him by any other means. The fact that most of them saw Thalion as the next king and hope for Númenór also helped.

When it came to convincing the King's men, it took substantially more effort to do so, especially when he had to do it carefully, not to alert Ar-Pharazôn of his actions. But thanks to his reputation, clever use of words, authority as a crown Prince and also by giving them a chance to regain old blessings of the Valar he managed to get many of them to his side.

In the end he gathered sixty-five ships filled with his loyalists (entire families of commoners, nobility, soldiers, craftsmen, builders and so on). Most importantly, his entire army was ready to go. He cared to also gather enough learned men, loremasters and librarians with the great amount of books so the knowledge of Númenór would be preserved and could be taken with him when he set out.

Some of his ships were filled with gold, silver and most importantly mithril, to which he planned to add a content of royal treasury tonight. On the urging of Elendil, he also gathered all the Seeing-stones he could. The Elendil gathered seven of them, one of them was the master stone. Thalion after some effort gathered eight, including his own personal palantír and another master stone.

Before everything was loaded up to ships, Isildur gave Thalion a sapling of Nimloth, the white tree, growed up from the rescued fruit. Now the sapling was safe and placed in his personal cabin of Azrugimil. It was not the only plant, Númenóreans were taking with them many other saplings and also seeds were loaded onto ships. The faithful insisted on one flower in particular, Athelas, also known as Kingsfoil.

"All is proceeding rather well, all things considered. What will you do about Pharazôn?" Isildur asked as he walked beside Thalion.

"Well, I am not planning to become a kinslayer if you are asking about that. I just take what I need from him and leave him to his fate."

"Yet, you know that he will not give up Sceptre of Númenór and Aranrúth just because you ask nicely, right? You will have to fight him for those heirlooms."

"I am aware of it. But those items were carried by the kings of Númenor for centuries. I can't let them be lost because that is going to happen to them if they stay with my father. Not to mention the fact they would grant legitimacy to my rule."

Isildur accepted Thalion's answer with a nod. "Right you are, however you should know that the faithful accepted you as their king already, Sceptre or not."

Thalion couldn't help but smile at that. "I appreciate your loyalty."

They arrived at the open gates of the royal residence guarded by their soldiers. Around were some dead soldiers loyal to Ar- Pharazôn. Thalion and his other men went through the gates without issue. After entering, they were welcomed by the sight of his men guarding the area and of Minlubên and Míriel in calm conversation. Commander of the rangers, Abrazîr, stood next to them.

When Minlubên spotted the prince and his men approaching, he bowed. "My Prince, lord Isildur, the palace and the city is under control, the king barricaded himself with his remaining men inside the throne room, per your orders we haven't confronted him."

"Good, what about the servants and other people?"

"Those who choose to join you, were taken to their homes to convince and gather their families and are on their way to ships, as all the civilians in the city, those who refused were locked in the dungeons or in their homes."

A Commander of Thalion's rangers, Abrazîr added to the report. "Rangers are guarding the perimeter of the town and palace, so no one leaves until we leave for the ships. We were careful, so no one could send the word to Rómenna. We are also prepared to breach the throne room, your grace. On your command."

Thalion raised his hand in a calming gesture. "That will wait, Abrazîr. First we take the contents of the royal treasury, mother, do you have the keys?"

"Yes, my son, as you requested, I took them from the castelan." She handed him the several keys on the iron circle.

"Thank you, mother. Now, men! Get the carts here and follow me to the treasury"

XXX

Royal treasury was full of chests filled with golden coins, Mirians and silver coins, Canaths, plus there were also ingots of gold and silver, pearls and precious gems of all kinds. Most importantly there were ingots of Mithril mined in Númenor as the only mine in Middle-Earth, Khazad-dûm, fell to the Durin's Bane almost two thousand years ago.

"Men, take everything on the carts. That Mithril, take first."

Isildur stopped next to Thalion. "You really do prioritise mithril don't you? Two ships are loaded to the brim with it already."

Thalion looked at him with raised eyebrows. "Well, it's the rarest and best quality metal in Middle-Earth and I have this itchy feeling that wherever we will end up mithril will not be there."

Isildur nodded. "I suppose that is reasonable." Then the son of Elendil looked to the other part of the treasury where jewels and ceremonial weapons were stored. "What about those, we take those too?"

Instead of answering, Thalion walked towards the section and moved to the long chest. "Yes we take everything, especially this." He opened the chest and from it he took out the elven made, great axe which had blade in the the shape of a swan.

Isildur stared at it with awe. "Is it what I think it is?"

"Tuor's axe, Dramborleg. I would be a fool to leave it here, now, would I?" Thalion returned the legendary weapon back to the chest and gestured to one of his men. "Take this to my cabin as well as this." He walked towards the wall on which was hanging an ancient looking bow. Once Thalion had it in his hands a small smile appeared on his face and put the weapon on the chest with the axe. "I won't leave here a Bow of Bregor either."

XXX

Sauron stood and watched the Armenelos from the temple of Melkor. he had a strange feeling, like something was working against him.

He had every reason to be satisfied, he corrupted Númenor, most of its people and king himself. What's more he managed to finally provoke that fool of the king to attack Valinor. He was looking forward to see his vengeance completed.

Then he heard sounds of fighting across the city. The fallen maya didn't understand at first but then he did. He always wondered what could cause Prince Thalion to rise against his father, in the end he concluded that will never happen, yet there it was happening, right now.

Sauron panicked so to speak, he moved to mobilise his temple guards, which he handpicked to guard the temple and was about to go find the king. In the moment his guards left the main entrance a multiple hissing sound resonated and in the split second all his temple guards laid dead with the black feathered arrows piercing their necks.

Sauron cursed and stepped back to the temple and immediately took his real form to combat the attackers. The black armoured figure with the warlike crown and his right hand holding the deadly looking mace. But when Sauron made a first step out again, he froze, both in shock and terror as he felt a distinctly familiar presence behind him. This effect was doubled after the uninvited visitor spoke. "It's been a while, hasn't it, Mairon? Or should I rather use Annatar, Artano, Aulendil, Gorthaur or Zigûr? So many names, yet you will always be known as Sauron. You have caused so much death and pain that it's sad to see you fall so far. But it ends now."

Sauron's shock wasn't long lasting and after hearing Manwe's words he rushed from the temple, he was stopped as someone hit him, repelling him to the altar of Melkor shattering it in the process. When Suaron recovered from the sudden blow he looked at the door. It was filled with the terrifying figure of Tulkas who was now laughing at him. "Were you planning to leave somewhere? And here, I thought you will be happy to see your old master again, he is waiting for you in the void, you know."

After that Sauron tried to resist, though ultimately it was in vain. And from that day onward, Sauron the Deceiver was never seen in Middle-Earth again.

XXX

"You are a bloody traitor, what's more a family traitor!" Those were the first words Thalion heard being shouted at him by his father, as soon as Thalion's royal knights, armsmen and rangers managed to cut through the first line of King's Men Royal Guards and were approaching the second line near the throne.

Thalion gripped his sword tighter as he defiantly answered. "The only family traitor here is you. If Elros could see you, what you have done and what you are about to do, he would be ashamed and disgusted by you. The king who led Númenor into ruin and shadow."

"How dare you! All I have done is to secure greatness which was denied to us by the traitorous Valar! Tell me, are you doing this in their name, usurping your own father, even if you kill me you will be forever known as the usurper and the kinslayer?! You will have a civil war on your hands."

Thalion shook his head. "You are beyond saving, nevertheless I am not going to be the one to end your life, father. I met some of the Valar two years ago on Meneltarma and through them Eru-Illuvatart himself gave me an offer. To start anew with the Númenoreans willing to follow me, so I am here only to take something from you and I'll be on my way. There won't be a civil war."

Ar- Pharazôn's face was a mixture of shock, disgust and disbelief as he drawed Aranrúth and pointed it at Thalion. "You are no son of mine! If you want this blade and sceptre you will have to take it from my death hands."

With that, soldiers of both sides took the battle positions. Thalion shrugged and raised his sword pointing in the direction of the throne. "So naive of you to think so, your majesty. Men! Let's finish this, attack!"

With that both sides clashed in deadly combat. Thalion moved quickly, he wanted to get to his father. He parried an attack from one guard and aimed with his blade on one of few weaknesses in Royal guard armour, eye gap. With a graceful strike he hit and killed guardsmen when the second tried to pierce him with the spear. Thalion dodged his attempt and when the second attack came he deflected the spear to the side with the sword and drawed the dagger with his left hand. In a matter of two seconds Thalion made two steps forward his now panicking opponent. Dagger found its way through to the guard's neck but remained stuck, nevertheless the way to the Ar-Pharazôn was now open.

His father's eyes were full of hatred. "I should never let your mother have any word in your raising, that bitch taught you faithful teachings. Making deals with the Valar…. I was proud of your achievements, you know. But now I just want to draw this sword through you!"

Thalion ignored his father's remarks and walked slowly to him. He knew his father had more experience when it came to sword-fighting. But Thalion was trained by the best fighting instructors and duellists Númenor had to offer plus Ar-Pharazôn wasn't in proper fight for over fifty years, not to mention his lack of helmet right now. In short Thalion knew he could win, still he remained cautious and waited for his opponent to make a move first as he took a defensive fighting stance.

Ar-Pharazôn's strike came swiftly, fuelled by his anger and therefore not so precise. Thalion easily deflected the first few strikes with deadly calm. He learned a long time ago that remaining level-headed and calm is essential during the swordfight.

After a few exchanges of blows Pharazôn realised that brute strength would get him nowhere, so he slowed the pace, began fighting with more precision. And the fight took on a form of poetry, like two masters of their art competed with equal skill. Something which Thalion didn't want.

In time, the Prince began to feel that if the current pace of the fight continued his father's experience would inevitably win so he made a decision to employ a trick taught to him by one old knight in Tharbad.

Pharazôn noticed how his strikes slowly began to be more effective as his son began to falter with each of them. After several more hits he noticed the opening in Thalion's defence and decided to capitalise on it and instead of slashing, he decided on the stabbing to the neck area.

Just before the killing blow landed, Thalion dodged aside and the last thing Pharazôn saw was the armoured glove still holding the sword, before he fell into unconsciousness.

Thalion sheeted his blade before he removed Aranrúth from his father's grasp and aimed it at the neck of incapacitated king. "King's men! Stand down! It's over."

The remaining royal guards of Ar-Pharazôn froze but still didn't show any desire to yield. "We are supposed to believe you will kill him after you denied such an action?"

"Yea but after he wanted to run through me with his sword are you really willing to take your chances?" Still no reaction, so Thalion moved his arm in a clear stabbing gesture.

"Stop! We surrender." Clinging of falling weapons began resonating through a throne room.

Isildur quickly went and coordinated the Thalion's men while the prince walked over his father to the throne. "Go on, bind them and take them to the dungeon, then move to the gates."

The kings of Númenor never wore the crown, instead they carried the different symbol of power, Thalion picked it up from the throne. Sceptre of Númenor, the elegant and ancient sceptre passed from king to heir since Elros time, decorated on its end by the great eagle of Manwë carrying the Star of Eärendil in its talons. "Now, I got what I came here for."

XXX

Míriel studied the sword in her hands. "So you got Aranrúth and sceptre, that's good. It wouldn't be good for them to get lost." She handed the sword of kings back to Thalion as they stood at Armenelos gates. "What happened to Pharazôn?"

"He was left unconscientious and bound in the throne room, when he wakes, our ships will be long gone and he can continue with his plans for all I care. He is already dead to me."

Míriel let out a sad sigh. "He was always a fervent opponent of the Valar and their ban. A little push was all he needed, my son. What is done is done, we can't go back now, but thanks to you our people have a future, uncertain as it may be, yet future nevertheless." She handed the sword back.

"Well, we should probably go mother, ships are waiting."

"You go, I won't. that is not my path, my son."

Thalion was taken aback. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that I am not going with you. I am the rightful queen of Númenor, yet I failed to keep my throne, even so I am still bound to the island's fate and I ….. I am weary of life."

Thalion wasn't about to just accept her words and pleaded with her desperately as he took her hands to his. "Then come with me and you will receive the blessing of the kings of old, you could still do much in life, please don't leave me mother."

Míriel smiled sadly. "I am sorry but I accepted my fate. After what you told me of what happened at Meneltarma I believe it's best for our people and I made my choice. My only remaining path will be there, to the holy mountain, where I will rest."

There was a pause during which neither said a further word before Thalion broke silence with his last effort to change his mother's mind. "Is this really what you want? Because you don't have to, mother, and I don't want you to go, yet. There is still much you can do."

Instead of an immediate answer Míriel pulled him in the hug. "I have made my choice and I think that is for the best. We are the descendants of Elros Tar-Minyatur, my son, and to us it is not only given a much longer life but also the grace to give it back at our own will."

After they separated, Thalion looked at his mother with the sadness in his eyes. "So this is goodbye then." Míriel nodded and handed him the small chest.

After opening it a personal palantír of Míriel was revealed. "Thank you, mother."

"I am having a persevering feeling that you will find a good use for it too." Míriel took off her Mithril circlet decorated with diamonds and put it in the chest. "Take this and give it to the one you will find worthy to be your wife, though I already suspect you have already chosen." Míriel gave a teasing smile.

"I may have someone in mind, though it will be many more years before I put this on her head, besides there is still the fact I must get Lord Elendil's blessing and well, let's just say he is a better fighter than I am."

Míriel couldn't help but laugh at that. "Far better but you will be just that good one day. Anyway, I think it's time for us to depart." And her face was saddened. "Farewell, my son. May the Valar's blessing be with you.ׅ" Than she pulled Thalion to one last hug and spoken few words in Quenya. "I gave hope to the Númenóreans, I have kept none for myself."

XXX

When Thalion finally arrived at the docks of Eldalondë he was met with all the lords and captains of his fleets. He also noticed a few great eagles circling above. "We follow the star of Eärendil, and keep your ships on course behind Azrugimil in tight formation, the Alcarondases and other Bulky ships in the middle and the Mithrilgirs and other war ships on the edges, are we clear?"

All gathered nodded. "Yes, aye!"

"Good on your ships then." As all went to their respective vessels only Lord Elendil stayed.

"So, Tar-Míriel decided not to go. I am sorry, my prince."

Thalion took a deep breath before answering. "It was her choice and hence I must respect it." Lord Elendil wanted to say something but in the end just turned to leave but was halted. "My mother was weary of life and decided to accept the gift of death willingly like the Kings and Queens of old. If she wasn't usurped, maybe we wouldn't be in this situation now."

Elendil gave a sad smile to Thalion. "Indeed, however the past is now beyond us and the future is ahead and as uncertain as it may be, it still gives me something to hold onto, hope that our people are not entirely doomed."

"Hope is a curious and eternal thing isn't it? Well, put that aside for now, what I want to say is that my mother trusted you and your judgement, Lord Elendil." Thalion paused as the tall lord bowed his head slightly and placed the fist of his right hand on his chest. "And so will I."

"I am honoured and I swear I will follow you until the end no matter what it will be, Tar-Thalion." With that Elendil turned and walked to board his ship ready to follow his new King.

Thalion gave last longing look to the place he called home all his life, then he pulled out the palantír and after a few moments of concentration he managed to see his mother somewhere on the way to Meneltarma. He spoke the last words of farewell. It would be the last time he spoke on Númenorean soil. "Farewell, mother. I hope we will meet once again one day, beyond the circles of the world." Míriel in the image stopped for the moment like she was hearing these words,smiled and continued on her way.

Thalion put palantír away and looked one last time on the heavens of Eldalondë and by extension on Númenór. "So ends the greatest kingdom of men in Arda. Nothing will ever come close to its greatness, splendour, dignity and pride. But it shall ever be remembered by our people. The memory of Akallabêth will endure for eternity." When he finished, Thalion turned to his ship and walked away, to face what was to come.

XXX

The Old town, one hundred and two years after the Doom of Valyria

The maester Nicol moved quickly through the halls from his observatory. He couldn't wait, he had to tell the Archmaesters of what had transpired in the night sky.

When he entered, the circle of Archmaesters were discussing recent events so he just nodded in silent greeting and patiently waited.

"So, is it true? The vile Valyrians of Dragonstone are plotting to attack Westeros?" Oldest of the council Archmeaster Reginald asked the present at the table.

Archemeaster to his left, Bufford answered. "Yes, according to maester Ollidar, Aegon Targaryen started to pursue this ambition, though nobody knows why."

"As if it is important, he is a dragonlord, ambition is in his foul nature." Archmaester Russel, of Dornish origin spoke with a clear disdain in his voice. "He probably wants to restore the lost glory of his people, if that is so, he should go to Essos and not to Westeros, nobody wants him or his ambitions here."

Reginald nodded. "Hmm we should have done something about the Targaryens sooner, well there is no point to lament about it now. How many men and dragons Aegon has at his disposal?"

Again, it was Archmaester Russel who had the answer prepared. "Men not many, only levies from his islands, to achieve anything he will need to use his dragons, of which he has three."

A sign of worry appeared on Reginald's face. "We will see how the situation develops, for now we must hope the Westerosi kings will see the threat and unite against it, though those dragons are a problem. Now, to more simple matters maester Nicol, what is it you need to tell us?"

"Did you perhaps spot a new-found star which convinced you that something is out of the ordinary because of it?" Another Archmaester Bryan remarked with a hint of mockery and others around the table chuckled.

Maester Nicol stayed composed however and answered with a serious tone. "Indeed, I am always convinced that the appearance of a new star is something remarkable, yet what I spotted tonight is a new constellation which came out of nowhere, might I add. Constellation of the seven stars. What's more there is another new star brighter than any other I have ever seen."

Translation and meaning of the Names:

Mithrilgir: Silver ship (Sindarin)

Alcarondas: Castle of the Sea (Adûnaic)

Abrazîr: Steadfast-friend (Adûnaic)

So as I promised, another chapter, which wraps up everything in Númenor. I hope it was satisfying. Yes, some might say that Sauron was taken away rather easily, but let's be honest, he had no chance against Valar. We also saw the last of Tar-Míriel as I thought it was a rather fitting end for her tragic character in the way. I also tried to mention everything Númenoreans take with them to Westeros.

Just for the explanation, in canon Elendil sailed to Middle-Earth with nine ships and it was supposedly enough to found two Kingdoms Arnor and Gondor, so Númenorean ships had to be quite something. To that note I hope that sixty-five ships which Thalion has, is an acceptable number and not too many. Anyway, thanks to that number it's clear the Númenoreans which will come to Westeros will be significantly more powerful than the Faithful who came to Middle-Earth.

When it comes to types of ships I named, I took inspiration from Third Age Divide and Conquer mod to Medieval II Total War, where Dunedain nations have Alcarondas as a best ship type. Mithrilgir silver ship is inspired by black ship Dulgubalak. We know pretty much nothing of what types of ship Númenoreans used, so there is that.

I took similar inspiration with the currency of Númenor. Both Mirian and Canath are currency of Gondor and there is no description of what material Mirian is made of, so I just went with the golden Mirian and silver Canath.

Anyway, I also decided in which time period this story will start. I hope it will be exciting as that time period has a lot of potential for conflict. And perhaps at some point the Aegon Targaryen and his sisters will have to consider a serious question: Can arrows fired from Númenórean steel-bows, pierce dragons hide? Hmm, what do you think?