Curvo was absent from their bed when she awoke. All the candles but one had burned down to nubs, the sea restless beyond the cloth walls of their tent. Fevered whispers reached her ears. She blinked away the sleep and rose from the furs. Taking his cloak from a nearby chair, she put it on over her chemise and tread the cold ground to the tent opening.

Peeking out into the dark, Luimëníssë spied two figures speaking in heated tones under the stars. Curvo had his back to her wearing only a pair of trousers even in the cold, his black hair loose around his bare shoulders. He was jabbing a finger at the other ellon.

"Father expects your abject loyalty to our family," the unknown elf argued audibly. "Unless you now question the oath you made first to us and our quest."

The stranger's hair curled like Náretarnon's did. It tumbled down to his elbows in dark honey ringlets, two small braids bound with leather straps fell over his ears. A single leather cord circled his head, keeping his curls at bay. He was dressed in dark green, his breastplate fashioned with the head of a great hunting hound.

"Tyelkormo," Curvo snarled, grabbing the other ellon by his upper arm. "You know that my first allegiance will always be to my family. But she is my family now as well. That is something you can't understand. You've never even considered marriage."

"Father would understand."

"Of course he would understand, but would he care? You saw his parting with mother, how she wept-"

"Yes, I saw it. We all did. It's why Amrod is having second thoughts as well," the elf called Tyelkormo snapped.

"I am not having second thoughts. I am merely concerned about leaving my wife behind. I don't want her in harm's way with the first wave of ships into the Hither Lands, but I don't wish to be separated from her either."

Tyelkormo's gaze clipped over to where she stood, the wind blowing back the tent flap and tousling her silver hair. "I can understand why," he said wryly, smirking at Curvo.

Curvo turned to see her, his mouth pulling hard into a frown. Swiftly, she retreated to the cot. Tossing aside the cloak, she crawled under the furs with her back to the room. She heard him bid his companion farewell. Silently, he returned to the tent and stretched out on the cot beside her.

"Eaves dropping is a bad habit of yours."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"What did you hear?"

"Only that they are questioning your loyalty because of me."

The cot creaked under his weight as he turned towards her and rested a heavy hand to the concave of her waist. "Their questions are immaterial. My father knows where I stand, not only with him but with you. He won't betray that. I trust him."

Luimëníssë bit her tongue. She longed to ask him if he truly could or if he just hoped it was so. She nestled her chin tight into her neck, hunching her shoulders. "Who was that?"

"One of my older brothers. I'll introduce you to him when I know he can behave himself. He and Carnistir, they are the middle brothers. Both are... unpredictable. Impulsive and too loud for their own good," he laughed to himself. "No, I think I'll first have you meet the twins, my younger brothers. They are pleasant, more like Artanis and Ingoldo."

Luimenisse sensed his body relax. She turned towards him and rested her head against his chest. "And your other brothers... what are they like?"

"The two eldest? I'm not so sure I want to introduce you to my eldest brother, you might lose your heart to him like half of Tirion did. Maitimo is his mother name, well-formed one. Let's just say it's appropriate."

"He is handsome?"

"Yes. Very."

"Perhaps it would be in your best interest to keep me far from his clutches," she teased, sitting her chin on his breast bone and running her fingertips through his hairline. "Considering how hideous you are."

"What was it my father said about keeping a handle on that mouth of yours?"

"I say you've been handling my mouth well enough so far."

He shook his head as a slow smile bloomed on his angled countenance before rolling her over into the furs. He trailed kisses down her neck and over her breasts.

Luimëníssë's smile faded. "And your last brother?"

"Makalaurë," he muttered lazily. "He is another one I'm not concerned about introducing you to."

"Why is that?" she persisted, trying not to let his activity distract her from her questions.

Curvo pressed his tongue against the damp cloth of her shift until it stuck to her skin, then laid his cheek against her belly with a heated breath.

"Because he is harmless."

Her hands froze, tangled in his silken hair. "Harmless?"

"Yes. He is the best of us, even more than the twins. Quiet and reflective like me, but gentler. Kinder."

Luimëníssë shuddered. Curvo sensed the change in her and peered up inquisitively. She put on a forced smile and pressed a hand to his cheek. "Don't say that. You are always gentle with me."

"With you, yes." He arched his brows and sat up. "But not with everyone else. Surely you remember what an ass I was that first night you met me at the Festival of Pearls?"

She couldn't help her laugh. "Oh yes, I forgot about that night."

"I didn't," he said, his obsidian eyes tenderly taking her in where she laid on the cot. He ran a hand from her ankle to her knee, gripping it. "I didn't understand why your presence distracted me so. More than any other elleth I had ever met. I thought perhaps it was because you only intrigued me, you seemed untouched by the world. But then, when you pulled me from that current towards dry land, I knew there was something more."

Hearing of his feelings made her uncomfortably aware of her own. She cared for Curvo and appreciated him, but she did not love him. Not like she had loved Rembano, a bright, all consuming explosion in her heart. She wondered if what she had done to him, taking advantage of his feelings and compromising his relationship with his family, had been wrong.

But then she recalled what his kin had done to her family. No. This was an even trade of wrongdoing.

He seemed to be waiting breathlessly for her reply, the vulnerability in his expression heartbreaking. He wasn't always comfortable talking about his emotions. Unable to respond in like, she placed her hand over his and guided it high up her thigh. His eyes grew heavy lidded as he leaned over her.

"I certainly never thought this would be happening between us," she whispered, curling an arm around him.

"How I wish I could right now," he groused into her neck with a frustrated snort. "I must go see my brothers and father. That is why Tyelkormo came to see me. We are making the final preparations. After the next sleep cycle, we will be departing."

Luimëníssë had come to terms with his impending voyage and had told him so. But she could see he was not happy with leaving her behind. He planned on talking with his father about it one last time, but she was certain his last attempt would be as fruitless as the others.

After he dressed, she helped tie his long hair back from his face. He gave an aggravated growl. "I believe there are going to have to be some changes in our new life. Long, vain hair was all well and good during the golden years of Valinor but it's already become a bother."

"What are you planning then?"

"When I return, I would appreciate your help."

"With what?"

"Cutting it. I wish a fresh start. With you, my family, everything," he said pulling her toward him. "There may be some difficult years to come, our endeavor to retrieve the silmarils and vanquish Morgoth may not be as easy as my father anticipates. I would like to be as unburdened as possible before I leave."

Luimëníssë decided then not to mention her pregnancy to him. She was sure of it, as her mother had told her of her own experiences. The stirring of life was sensed soon by the mother before any other symptoms appeared. She knew it down in her bones. Some mother could even envision the faces of their future children or their destinies, as her own mother did. Luimëníssë prayed that would not be the case for her either way. She wanted to remain ignorant of everything until they were somewhere safe for her to give birth. She had a year until then, plenty of time.

"I can help you with that," she promised kissing his forehead lightly. "Now go, before your brothers have something else to blame me for."

When he stormed back to the tent after his meeting, she knew nothing had come of his talk with his father as she had predicted. Curvo brooded as he removed his armor, his breastplate with a burning hammer on it. His shoulders loosened as she ran her hands over them, standing behind him.

"Don't think on it now, husband," she instructed. "We only have a few more hours and let's not ruin them."

The sullen look fled from his face though he remained quiet. She strode over to the short knife on the bed, the one he had pulled on her the first night she had come to him in the forest. Unsheathing it, his eyes shot up to her. She grinned, running a finger down the edge.

"Do you trust me, son of Fëanor?"

He arched a brow, perching his forearms on his knees with one boot still on. "With that, wife?"

"Sit over there on the rug."

As he settled onto the ground, she sat behind him and straddled her legs alongside his. Carefully, she braided his hair into a thick plait.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

He heaved a heavy breath. "It's only hair, I suppose."

With the sharpened blade, she cut through the stands just below the base of his neck. She laughed as she handed the remnants of his hair over to him. Shaking out his shorn hair, he tossing the braid into the corner.

"I should have done that years ago," he muttered, coming to hover over her as she laid on her back. "It would have made this activity much easier. Now where were we earlier?"

The last hours they had together went by too fast. Neither of them rested, unwilling to waste the time in dreams. At last, reluctantly, both rose from the piled furs and linens they had moved onto the floor for their love making and dressed. The Noldo servants could be heard taking down the other tents around them, signalling their imminent departure.

Luimëníssë admired her husband in his full armor. He had crafted each piece himself, perfected to fit his harsh standards in the forge. Before they left the tent, he helped tighten the laces on the back of her gray gown and pressed his lips to the top of her spine.

"I know you have said you are not worried about my leaving," he said, digging into his pocket. "But I want to give you something, a gift. Our marriage did not follow the traditional courses of our people but I still felt you needed a ring."

Luimëníssë thought of the black pearl secreted among her belongings and tried to appear happily surprised as he revealed a ring. "It's lovely."

"It is no pearl, I know they are your favorite," he said as he slipped it onto her finger. "But when I saw this blue quartz when I was in Tirion, I couldn't get it out of my head that it would grace your hand the best."

"In Tirion?"

He gave a fleeting smile. "After the first time you rejected me."

"You still thought of me?"

"I've always thought of you."

His grip on her hand tightened the closer they drew to the ships. The sight of the swan ships still left Luimëníssë aching. She was grateful for the hood of her cloak shielding her damp eyes. She turned her face into his shoulder as they stopped on the rocky beach, unable to bear sight of the Noldor warriors as they boarded.

"Fingolfin is here," Curvo murmured to her. "Artanis and Ingoldo as well. They are moving their encampment closer to the water to wait for the return of the ships."

Fëanor's commanding voice shouted from the prow of one of the ships in the cove. Curvo would be one of the last to board. Swiftly turning to her, he kissed her forehead with tight lips.

"Be well, wife," he breathed then strode away without a look, his steps rigid as he waded towards the raft that would take him to the ship. He sat with his back to the beach as he helped row towards the ship.

Artanis came alongside her. Luimëníssë brushed her fingers over her wet cheeks. She wasn't sure why she was crying, but was startled to think it might partly be due to Curvo's departure.

"Did you tell him?" Artanis asked quietly, her hands calmly folded in front of her.

"No. I did not want to burden him with the news before he went into battle."

"This is why children are not conceived among our people during times of war. It'll be wearing on you if you have to carry the responsibility alone. It exhausts both the mind and body."

She already knew this from her mother's pregnancy with Vantaro. "I am prepared for what lies ahead."

"Sometimes I'm afraid none of us are," Artanis replied in an oddly negative tone. Her hand grasped her cousin's. "But as I said before, I will be by your side."

"Which means I must stand by you as well," Iríssë sighed as she appeared from the darkness.

Luimëníssë gaped over at her. "How did you know about the baby?"

"You need to put a gag on that little brother of yours."

The three of them stood watching the white ghosts of the ships slip out of sight across the ocean. They all slept in the same tent that night. Luimëníssë dreamed again of forge fires and the clang of hammers. She awoke cold, thinking for a moment that she heard Curvo's steady breathing at her side, his arms around her. But she was alone. Artanis and Iríssë had already risen.

After a light meal that Luimëníssë found herself strangely ravenous for, she returned to the stony beach. Walking along the lapping water in her bare feet, the foam like snow, she trained her eyes on the horizon. She squinted.

"Any sign of them?" Ingoldo strode down to where she stood, his warm golden hair had been cropped short to his shoulders as well. "They said it shouldn't be a long journey."

"No," she said quietly, peering over the dark waters. "But there is an odd glow on the horizon. What is... is that fire?"

Ingoldo did not reply but glared towards the growing flames and smoke, so close but so far. He bolted for the tent of Fingolfin, leaving Luimëníssë to stare quizzically towards the sight, praying it did not mean a battle. Despite herself, she did not want to think of Curvo in danger.