The hall is a mirror of the sea—light rippling across marble, music ebbing like tide between jeweled pillars. Every sound, every shimmer, carries the scent of salt and something older. I am meant to be watching, not admiring.

My father’s orders were clear: observe the harbor, learn its rhythm, take measure of the Teleri’s defenses. Find their weakness, Maedhros. I came to obey. I came armored in purpose.

But when you entered the room, the air changed.

It began with the hush—so subtle it might have been the pause before a wave breaks. The harps faltered, voices softened, and every head turned toward the stair.

You descended slowly, and the light followed you.

Your gown was the color of midnight at the water’s edge—black silk threaded with silver, the faint sheen of the sea upon every fold. The fabric moved as though remembering the tide. Pearls caught in your hair glimmered with ghostlight, and the onyx circlet at your brow burned like a fragment of night set against your pale skin.

I had seen beauty before—cold, deliberate, polished by centuries of craft. This was not that. This was living grace. The kind that unmade discipline.

You passed among your kin with the composure of one born to command the silence of others. The courtiers leaned in to whisper, to flatter; I could not hear what they said. I could only watch the faint rise and fall of your shoulders, the turn of your head when the lanterns caught the silver in your hair.

And in that instant, I thought: If I had met her before the Oath, perhaps the fire would not have claimed me.

I can still hear the forge—its hiss beneath the vow, the sound of seven voices promising ruin for jewels that will damn us all. I can still taste the metal in the air. But here, under the echoing song of your city, the scent of salt and roses dulls the smoke.

I should be counting ships. Instead, I count the ways the light bends around you.

If the Valar are merciful, they will not let you see me. Because if you do—if you meet my eyes—I fear I will forget every word of the Oath that binds me, and I will break faith for the first time in my life.