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@tolkienwomensweek day seven | stars ✦ dream ✦ prophecy ✦ vision | tar-míriel
She sees the end before it comes. The wave crests over the mountain, and she drowns with Númenor. The dark temple is swallowed by the Sea, and far away, so is the King. She sees it in the stars, the way she has since she was a girl. Perhaps she should have been Meneldur; perhaps she is, for no one knows where Men’s spirits go when they die. She will learn where, soon. All the women and elderly and children of Númenor will learn with her, all the animals, all the flowers, all the weight of Elenna’s history: all soon shall be devoured by the waves. Tar-Míriel is helpless, as she always has been. She does nothing to stop this Doom, gives no warning, makes no protest. Perhaps in death, she shall be made free—for if Men may return, after a fashion, less even do the Wise know what happens to Woman when she is strangled by her fate.
