Character: King Elessar
Source: Fourth Age/Post-Ring War
Disclaimer: Middle-earth was discovered by Tolkien – who suggested others might play there… as long as they don’t infringe copyright.
It had taken time, but a fleet had assembled in the bays of Belfalas. From Lebennin, from Lamedon, from the Hills of Tarnost and Morthond’s plains, men heeded the call of their lords, men once reluctant to fight against what seemed insuperable odds, now heartened to hear the summons to arms by a King returned.
Few left easily, most were hesitant, as much as to the sea as to the fighting. Those farmers that could, ploughed the land before they left, leaving their families to sow - and with the hope that they’d be menfolk return to harvest the crops.
Now the keels of ships ploughed the sea, churning white water into rapidly dissipating furrows. Fisherfolk familiar with the coast had volunteered to act as pilots. The lords took counsel with captains and spy-masters to plan the assault. It could hardly be a surprise attack, this quantity of ships, harrowing the coastal towns of Harondor as they moved south.
The fleet needed water and provision – it could be offered freely, or taken. The King was fair in that – submit, give tribute and live... fight and see it taken. Most councils saw sense, gave what they must, bartered what they could.
King Elessar had no desire to sow distrust or despair in his wake. Village elders were heard, disputes settled were possible, this was, after all, an invading army, the locals’ allegiance lay elsewhere, all Elessar could do was show parity – a thief is a thief be he northern or southron.
A few men thrashed in public, a few left dancing a jig on air… Elessar watched grim-faced, stony-eyed as his judgements were carried out. In private, Aragorn ran his hands through his hair and drank deeply of Lebennin’s red wine... while Strider mourned the man he was forced to become.