Anarion paced around the room, trying to calm down, to no avail. Pharazon and his wife, Anarion's distant cousin, had come to pay them a visit a day before. Miriel, who was called Zimraphel now, seemed pale and withdrawn. She looked like someone who had lost all hope. And Anarion couldn't stand it. So he sought out Zimraphel, and found her.
"Have you heard the tale of the Fall of Gondolin?" Anarion asked, as he approached her "How our ancestor, Tuor, fought to protect the one that he loved, and he threw her cousin from the walls?"
Zimraphel's knuckles turned white as she realized the hidden meaning behind his words.
"You can't." she whispered, hoarsely
"I can, and I will." Anarion said fiercely "Because the alternative is worse, for it would mean that you'll wither away, and I'll lose you. I'll give you what is yours. I'll give it all back to you, just like you had given me your heart, Miriel."
He embraced her before she could protest.
"You and I will return Numenor to its former glory, you'll see." he pulled out his sword "This, I promise you."
He knew that there was a chance Zimraphel - his Miriel - would see through this and wouldn't forgive him, and he was fine with that.
It was she who mattered the most, after all. He had given Numenor, the land of her forefathers, back to her. She'd be the ruler she was meant to be, he knew.
The era of King's Men, the era of corruption, was over.