You Can't Take the Sky From Me

A note on the content:

In the time of Tar-Ancalimon's father Tar-Atanamir, and of his grandfather Tar-Ciryatan, the Númenóreans had begun to turn against the Valar and the Eldar, and take pride in their own strength and wealth. Tar-Ancalimon continued down this path, and the histories of Númenor record that the division of the Númenóreans began in earnest during his reign.

Politically, the realm became split between two parties, the King's Men, who followed Tar-Ancalimon's policies, and the Elendili, who favoured continued friendship with the Eldar. For the next millennium, Númenor's history was bound up with the dissent between these two parties, and ultimately the King's Men were to help bring about its destruction.

That lay in the far future, though: during his reign, Tar-Ancalimon turned away from the traditions of the past. He discontinued the dedication to Eru, which had taken place at the Meneltarma in the middle of the island. The tradition of the taking of the Kings' names in Elvish he maintained, though, partly through fear of ill-fortune. This is perhaps because of a dark omen of Tar-Ancalimon's reign: the Eagles of Manwë, who had nested in the tower of the King's palace at Armenelos since Númenor's founding, left their eyrie and never returned.

Tar-Ancalimon died as he had lived, clinging to the last vestiges of life as his father had before him. He was succeeded by his son Tar-Telemmaitë, a man greedy for riches and silver, who followed in all the ways of his father. -Encyclopedia of Arda

***

The stars did not speak to him like they used to - like they should have. And though he pursued the mystery of their silence by night, and even by day, when they were too far out of his reach to be seen, he had found no answer to his inquiries.

What right had they? He was king; what right had even the heavens to hide their counsel from him? By blood and fate this domain was his, and though the sky was high above, beyond his grasp, there were expectations. The stars mocked him by depriving him of the insights he should receive to pass down to his people.

The silence could have been intentional, though it took several days for the possbility to reach his mind. After all, he did nothing truly wrong in questioning the supremacy of the Valar - it was still only a question, as yet. And was it not his duty to seek the greatest possible freedom for his people when others might hinder them from outside? He would have been remiss to not attempt their liberation them from the prison of mortality.

Four nights after the stars began their silence, the eagles abandoned their eyrie at the top of his tower, and that finally planted a seed of suspicion in his mind. Was it no longer to their liking? Or did Manwë snub him so greatly? The two might be one and the same, for all he could conclude of it. Either way, the people took note.

He did not endeavor to explain, thinking that bringing attention to the phenomenon without an answer to it might make him appear foolish. After a scant week in the high winds, the nests, once so carefully kept, began to disintegrate into mere piles of sticks and tufts of feather that drifted down forlornly into the streets and courtyards - and still he made no comment. For it was the stars that should comment first, should offer him some explanation as to why his rule had turned to omen and schism.

It had not been like this before - the land so sharply divided into his men and theirs. His father should have confronted the usurpers and scoured them all out before this could happen. His father should have done many things.

A knock at the door proved the perfect interruption to his musings; though a soft sound, it ripped through the quiet space like an arrow through paper. It must have been his chamberlain; anyone else would have shuffled nervously in the corridor and alerted him to their presence long before they announced it.

"Enter," the king barked. He need hardly have said it at all; the older servant rarely waited for a reply when he knew he was expected.

The chamberlain swept into the room with stately abruptness. "The council awaits you, my lord."

"Yes, yes," the king sighed. Bad enough he had called his advisors to a meeting so absurdly late; he should not keep them waiting, lest they grow frustrated and join his detractors. With a last accusing glance at the heavens, he departed for a long night in the meeting hall.

~~

Balefully, Manwë dropped his gaze from the faraway island. "He sees so little."

"And hears less," Varda replied.

***

Title borrowed from the “Firefly” theme song.

Challenge parameters:
Character – Tar-Ancalimon
Genre – Mystery (well, it's a mystery to him, at least...)
Content: Stars/cosmos

And thanks to NeumeIndil for the beta.