"Aren't they very fine?" 

The handmaids tittered behind Luimëníssë as they stood in the courtyard watching a grand company on horseback breach the crest of the hill.

"I'm sure our grand guests would agree," she muttered to herself as the horses thundered into the courtyard of Calarmo's cliffside home.

It wasn't that Luimëníssë disliked the Noldor out of spite. They were half her blood after all. The Lord Finwë, who was visiting as well with his son Fingolfin, was very amenable. The King of the Noldor had remained at Lord Olwë's home, an ellon that was closer to him than a brother. They were two of the most ancient of their kind, both having led their peoples from across the sea to the realm of Aman.

The younger generations of Noldor, those of her parents age and her own, were prideful to a fault. Perhaps their arrogance was warranted. The Noldor were ambitious in their lofty pursuits, far more than the Teleri who preferred the humble peace of their harbors. But that didn't give them the right to treat their fellow Eldar like a herd of simpletons.

A trio of horses halted in front of the grand steps. Calarmo took his wife's hand and led her down to greet their guests, their daughter following. An ellon dismounted a white mare. The Lord Finarfin, with hair as yellow as the sands of their cove, pressed a fist to his chest and bowed to her father. Calarmo burst forward and embraced his old friend heartily.

"Sister!" Calarmo turned to the silver haired elleth who was helped off her horse by Finarfin, her husband.

Eärwen, called the swan maiden, burst into a warm smile. Waves of pure silver curled over her pale shoulders, her eyes blue as sapphire. With a button nose, her smile turned to a mischievous grin as she hugged her youngest brother. Both beautiful and disarming, even her mother melted in the swan maiden's presence.

After they greeted both her parents, Luimëníssë blinked out of her stupor and managed an awkward curtsy. "My lord and lady."

Eärwen floated forward and clasped her hands. "Dear one, how you have grown! Nanwë, I pray I don't offend you, but she takes after our side entirely."

"That she does," her mother agreed with a quiet smile. "You especially, kinswoman."

Luimëníssë couldn't help the breathy laugh that escaped her. To be compared with her aunt, the swan maiden of the Teleri, was an exaggeration of extraordinary proportions. Another figure moved past her aunt and uncle, hair gleaming in a golden river down her back.

"I didn't know your daughter would be joining us," Calarmo said. "Artanis, lovely fwîr, we are most glad for your company."

Artanis was several decades older than her, the same age as their huntress cousin Írissë, and had never been present the times she had met her mother's kin.

Artanis swept forward to stand in front of her. Her gown was the pearly pink of the cavern of a shell. "Ettani, cousin. I am so glad to finally meet you. Mother has always said you remind her of Uncle Calarmo. I have no doubt you will be as amusing as your father."

Those words from another proud Noldo would have sounded like sarcasm. Though she was as grave in expression as Nanwë, the way Artanis looked at her made her believe every word she spoke.

Luimëníssë wet her lips and smiled. "I am most glad to meet you as well."

Before retiring to the house, Calarmo scanned the remaining escort of elves, their faces hidden behind iron helms. "Did anyone else travel with you, Finarfin?"

Lord Finarfin grinned as they paused on the steps. "Like who, kinsman?"

"I thought perhaps..."

Two figures moved forward through the crowd. Luimëníssë suppressed a squeal as a tall ellon removed his helm and coal black curls tumbled out. Her older brother laughed as their usually composed mother almost tripped racing for him. Luimëníssë followed, leaping into Náretarnon's arms. Calarmo forwent a dignified handshake with his son and embraced him with a roaring laugh.

As they turned towards the house, the second concealed elf that had followed her brother removed his helmet. An unimpressed stare glazed his dark eyes as silken ebony hair fell over broad shoulders. With full lips pulled into an unforgiving line and sharp chin, there was no doubt he was of the Noldor.

"Mother, father, this is our kinsman as well." Náretarnon extended a hand towards the stranger. "Atarinkë, the son of the famed master smith, Curufinwë Fëanáro."

Luimëníssë noted her father's forced smile at their unexpected guest's stiff bow. "Ah yes, you are most welcome here, ettanu."

The ellon did not reply, his stern mouth curving in a fleeting smile. His eyes grazed over her family with disdain, even as her brother took his arm to lead him to their home. A grimace passed like a shadow over Artanis' face. She caught Luimëníssë's eye and gave a weak simper before following them.

As Luimëníssë lingered last in the dimming light of Laurelin, she had the odd sensation she was being watched. She gazed down upon the courtyard to find it's occupants seeing to horses and conversing with other servants.

One member of the escort still wore his silver helm, hiding his identity. He lingered by the alabaster archway, hands folded before him and his attention on her. She could not see his face. Shivering, she scurried up the steps into her home.

***

"You are much more interesting than-" Luimëníssë caught herself before she spoke ill of their cousin Írissë.

Artanis turned from the edge of her balcony overlooking the ocean. Stars dusted the dark sky as Telperion glowed silvery in the distance. Her elegant frame leaned against the railing, the breeze catching the edge of her emerald gown.

"More interesting than what?" She gave a teasing smile. "You can tell me."

Luimëníssë bit her bottom lip. "Than Írissë ..."

"Not too keen on hunting? I don't blame you. I've grown up as close to her as a sister. She isn't too terrible when you catch her alone. She is only heavily influenced by...certain company."

Knuckles rapped against the bedroom door. Calarmo and Finarfin appeared to escort them to the feast as their wives were already present in the hall preparing for the other guests. Luimëníssë pondered Artanis's final comment as they passed through the glimmering halls of her home.

As they entered the feasting hall, the vaulted ceiling lustrous with embedded pearls, she spied Írissë where she sat on the raised dais and understood what Artanis had meant. She was in close confidence with the conceited son of Curufinwë Fëanáro, laughing behind hands and exchanging superior smirks.

As Artanis and Luimëníssë climbed the steps, Írissë stood with a faint smile. Her raven hair was loose without adornment, her white gown beautiful in it's simplicity. She had worn white the last time Luimëníssë had seen her as well, it seemed to be her signature color.

"Cousins, dear ones," Írissë beamed with artifice, gripping their fingers. "Well met. How beautiful you look, Artanis. And dear little Luimëníssë, you are so grown!"

"Yes... thank you?" Luimëníssë replied saucily, earning a chuckle from Artanis.

Írissë laughed as well but with less gusto. "Come, sit with us. Cousin Atarinkë and I were just naming the various charms of your delightful little city."

Artanis gave the Noldor a weak nod which he returned with a wry stare as he popped a berry into his mouth.

"Well met, Artanis," Atarinkë droned. His blank glare trailed past Luimenisse as though she wasn't there. "And you as well, I suppose."

Gradually Artanis was drawn into conversation with the other two about happenings in Tirion and new advances made in smithing and lore. Having no knowledge of these things, Luimëníssë tapped her feet under the table, swirling her cup of wine as she waited for the announcement of loveliest pearl.

"And you, little Teleri? What do you think?" Atarinkë's bored tone drew her out of her musings.

She cleared her throat. "About what?"

He gave an impatient wave of his hand, heavy rings stacking his thumb and forefinger. "About the Valar and their position among the Eldar. Do you believe they hold us back from our true potential or aid us to gain further heights?"

Luimëníssë had rarely given the Valar and their Maia servants a second thought. In her simple world by the sea, the spectacular goings on in Tirion and certainly in Taniquetil, on the holy mountain, were a world away.

"I don't know-"

"Of course, you don't," he cut her off with a cold smile. "Why would you care in this beautiful place, so wild and uncouth. I certainly wouldn't worry myself about it if I were of the Teleri."

Írissë hid a wolfish sneer in her goblet as Artanis cleared her throat. "Enough of this conversation. It's tiring."

Luimëníssë stared down at her plate, suddenly not so hungry. She couldn't tell if it was her indignation or embarrassment giving her stomach pains. If only they would make the announcement.

Thankfully, the music stirred for dancing. Náretarnon strode towards her with his hand extended. "Care to dance, sister?"

He didn't have to ask twice. Before long, she'd left him behind and twirled by herself, her parents clapping with approval at her fleet footedness as her scarlet skirts fluttered. Other than cliff climbing and pearl diving, Luimëníssë loved dancing most of all.

Finally, at the end of the evening, her limbs warm with wine and the rush of percussion and flute, her grandfather, the Lord Olwë, rose to announce the winner of the loveliest pearl. His bright white hair was pulled into a myriad of braids, eyes the same spirited blue as her father's.

"I hope I do not seem biased with this announcement. I will lead by saying that I am not the one who judges the pearls, I am merely the messenger so don't kill me." A warm chorus of laughter rose from the gathering. "But I am pleased to announce the finder of the finest pearl in the Bay of Eldamar is none other than my granddaughter, the Silver Bell of Alqualondë, our little Luimëníssë."

Even her mother rose to her feet in applause. She leaped towards Lord Olwë and he kissed her forehead. He presented the fine, black pearl to the room before tucking it into her palm. "I do believe you'll have your father jealous. He always tried to win this honor in his youth. You may see him taking up diving again."

In that golden moment, with all her family happy and present, the sea shushing at their door step as Telperion gleamed in the distance, Luimëníssë wondered if she could ever be happier.

As the dancing recommenced, she retreated to a quiet archway and studied the pearl in her hand. Rolling it around her palm in the lamp light, the green hue morphed to dark blue.

"A true treasure."

She glanced over her shoulder. She hadn't heard the tall elf sneak up on her. He stood close behind, peering down at the pearl in her hand. Black hair skimmed his shoulders, combed back from his square forehead. His skin was pale as snow and eyes golden.

"You," she breathed, blinking up at him. "It's you. Rembano. From that day on the cliff."

He gave her half a smile. "That was nearly sixty years ago. And you still remember me?"

Luimëníssë recalled Atarinkë's earlier jab at her simplicity and looked away, her face warming. "I hadn't realized it was so long ago."

"Don't fret, Luimëníssë. I remember you too." He leaned his mouth close to her ear, his breath against her neck. "I also remember that you stole something from me."

"I did," she admitted, turning to face him. "I have kept it safe. If you would like, I can get it for you. The ring never did fit, not even now."

Gently, he took her hand and studied her fingers. "I shouldn't think so with these slender hands. But I believe you should keep it."

"Why?"

He picked the pearl from her palm and held it to the light. "A very lovely find, you certainly deserve the honor. But this, I believe I shall keep for myself. In return for the ring."

Pocketing the pearl, he retreated a step, holding her in his gaze. Luimëníssë didn't have it in her to argue, his air was so intriguing.

"Will you stay? Meet my family?"

"I have stayed as long as I needed to. Don't worry, Silver Bell, this won't be the last you see of me." With a charming twist of his prominent chin, Rembano disappeared into the shadows.

***

ettanu : Cousin