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Story Notes:
This idea story came to me randomly today as I was setting up for a surgery, and at first I thought could perhaps make it a shorter story of but a few chapters but the more I do my research the more and more I am finding to write about, it really figures.

As for the warnings I have only checked what *might* evantually apply as I would rather be overly cautious with the warnings than be lax with them and I generally give my stories a higher rating than needed but I envison Numenor in the days of Miriel and before its downfall as a rather dangerous place.
Author's Chapter Notes:
I read up all I could about the white tree of Numenor of Nimloth and so this description I give the tree is what grew in my minds eye.
Even in the golden light of twilight the lingering light of the day remained seemingly captured in the stone courtyard, as though it too was reluctant to leave. The stature of the tree was not great, but its trunk was long and straight and the branches that steamed from it were also straight and long, reaching upwards as though in praise to the heavens above.

Even as the very last of the light had finally bled from the sky above her, MŪriel lingered here in the courtyard of the King where Nimloth grew. Pale flowers bloomed upon the branches and filled the warm evening air with scent and Miriel breathed deeply of it and a soft, though restrained smile touched her lips. For many hours she might sit in this place and not be troubled for there were few who came to look upon the white tree and some of those who did came grudginly she knew for they were ordered by her father to tend to the tree. While it had never been asked of her directly, MŪriel also came as it was of her own desire to also tend to the tree.

At times she brought silver pitchers of fresh water to pour into the earth at the trees roots, softening the dirt there so that the tree could drink from it. While she knew many would consider her most foolish for doing so but she sang softly to the tree, and while she did not possess a voice she believed many to find pleasing she sang for the tree alone and in turn she believed that in the tree graced her with the exquisite scent of its large blooms that only came fourth when the veil of night came upon the lands in turn. Always it had been a comfort to her. Carefully, most reverantly she would at times cup the large blossom in her two small hands carefully not to crush or bruise the delicate petals though she had only done so when she could be certain she would not be caught doing so for her Father had made it so that the tree must be treated with honor, and while Miriel was always so careful for did not wish to invoke his anger.

Even from the time she was but a young girl she had come to see the hatred that some possessed for the white tree and she did not understand this, how could they scorn something of such great beauty? Even at such an age she had been in awe of Nimloth that had seemingly towered above her, and even as she had steadily grown taller so that the tree no longer towered above her this had not vanished.

It had been her father Tar-Palantir that had prophesised that should ever the tree perish so would the line of Kings end and this had frightened Miriel for she was of a good and gentle heart and was fearful for her father and would not see any harm befall him and so upon learning of this prophecy she had treated the tree with even greater care.

There were many whom these words had angered, for they hated the tree in itself as well as those that had given it as gift. It had come as naught but a small green seedling along with birds of songs, fragrant flowers and herbs of great virtue, all were gifts from the firstborn whom had at whiles sailed to Numenor . It was first planted and came to bloom in the Kings Court in Armenelos. Nimloth it was named for its pale, silvery blooms.
Much passed in the years to follow but Nimloth had continued to grew and bloom heedless of all else that transpired in the lands. While the beauty of the tree never faltered the hearts of men were beginning to change and to look upon Nimloth they were ever reminded that it was a gift come from Eldar, towards whom their heart was growing steadily colder.

Whilst they still enjoyed the song of the birds that had been brought by the elves, and still used the many herbs of great use that had been bestowed upon them it was Nimloth alone that became an object of their scorn for as the stood alone, seemingly aloof and untouchable as were the far lands which they were forbidden to travel. In the time of the twenty third kind of Numenor the Tree was no longer tended and slowly began to perish, and there were some who secretly wept for such a sight for the slow death of something once so great and beatiful slowly began to crumble, Its white blooms and silvery leaves beginning to wilt.

The tree had nearly fallen completely beyond recall by the time that InziladŻn would take the scepter and be named the twenty fourth King of Nķmenor, One of his first acts as King had been to degree the tree would no longer be permitted to die and while Nimloth came to bloom once more it was merely a glimmer of its former glory. Returning to the tradition of old InziladŻn he took upon himself an Elven title as was custom in the days of old.

InziladŻn was the eldest son of Ar-GimilzŰr and Queen InzilbÍth and it was well known that there was little love between Ar-GimilzŰr and his Queen for he had taken her unwillingly as his wife. For Ar-GimilzŰr was a cold, cruel man who freely persecuted those who named themselves The faithful those who still desired friendship with the firstborn and remained faithful to the Valar who many of Nķmenor now openly shunned.

InzilbÍth was a woman of great beauty that had first drawn GimilzŰr, though even more than this she was a woman of great bravery and cunning for she for many years had hidden her heart away from her husband, for she feared not for herself but in secret she had lent whatever she might to the faithful who were forced to live in shadow or be fated with a cruel death after suffering whatever agonies the cruel mind of the King could devise.

Much to the great anger of Ar-GimilzŰr the first son that InzilbÍth bore him would grow much to be like his Mother and InziladŻn he would come to be called though the second child who was named Gimilkh‚d would grow to be much like his father in his cruelty which delighted the King and it was Gimilkh‚d the King would have preferred to see come to power after he had passed but he could not being the second born as was the law.

Secretly for many years InzilbÍth had taught her son the way of the faithful and he shared in her love for the Elves and for the Valar though such thing was tightly guarded and it was not until he had risen to power that many suspected this for he allowed those who accounted themselves among the faithful peace for this time. So it was another way that the two brothers were drawn apart, of the same blood but all other ways entirely apart. Gimilkh‚d could not claim any true power but nevertheless he had drawn to himself those who shared in his cruelty and malice and they called themselves The Kings and they openly defied the rule of the King though even more so they did in secret.

So Miriel as she had been called by her father at birth had been born into the midst of a thick web of deceit that entangled seemingly all. Though young she had quickly understood much, as a young fawn must quickly find its legs and be prepared to run lest it be devoured by wolves.

Miriel grew to be a fair beauty, much in the image of her Grandmother, Queen InzilbÍth. Even from an age considered young by the standards of Nķmenor there had been some who had looked upon the Kings daughter with desire but had dared not lay a hand upon her for she was as a precious stone held in the stone keep, and even if unseen she was always under a watchful eye.

Only with age would true wisdom come and Miriel was still young but she had learned for she must the ways of the court and how to properly conduct herself and there were few children born in those days and so she rarely saw any of her own age but the now widowed InzilbÍth came to her often and had become as a mentor, as she once had to her son not so long ago. Miriel was still young and she at times wished it was not so for she wished to grow wise as her grandmother, perhaps so wise she believed with all the hope of a child who knew no better that she might never be deceived.

“The stars are veiled this night” Miriel turned at the voice who belonged to the subject of the girls current thoughts and she raised herself from where she had sat at the foot of the tree, feeling safe as she ever had beneath the boughs. InzilbÍth smiled softly down at the girl, even now dressed in soft flowing robes of white the Queen appeared regal and carried herself as such.

“You should not linger in the darkness” InzilbÍth chided softly though there was a harder edge of warning behind her words for the Queen saw clearly some of the gazes that befall her granddaughter when many believed they were not watched, and in these open unguarded moments, too much was said.

“Forgive me” Miriel clasped her hands together before her and bowed her head in a show of humility before the Queen before rising her head and her great grey eyes were wide with wonder “But I like it” the voice was scarcely above a whisper now for Miriel was cautious, knowing that even though it seemed they were alone this did not mean necessarily that they were unheard also.

InzilbÍth’s eyes shone as she regarded the white tree and she dipped her head in a silent bow to it before dragging her gaze away once more and she extended a hand to Miriel “Come child” she said softly and Miriel followed without question or hesitance but not before she paused and cast a glance over her shoulder, silently bidding the tree a good night before allowing herself to be lead and Nimloth stood alone, a soft light in the darkness.
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