I tried to fall asleep, shivering despite the thick blanket and my warm clothing. Burying my face in my cloak, I felt a little guilty. It was actually Celegorm's cloak, and he was probably very cold without it. Just as I was about to lose consciousness, a hand touched my shoulder. I jerked upwards, reaching for the dagger that was hidden under my pillow and pointing it at my unknown attacker.

"My, you're fast," a familiar voice whispered, the figure jumping backwards. Breathing quickly, I held the dagger down a bit.

"Do you want your cloak back?" I asked. Celegorm smiled in the darkness. "Keep it. It was a gift."

"What are you doing here?"

"Pack your things. We're leaving," he said, holding out his hand to help me up. I looked at it skeptically, feeling that something was off. Ah...

"Why all the secrecy?" I questioned. "Isn't everyone else leaving with us? And why are we going in the night?"

He winced, as if something was hurting him. "Well...no, not everyone is coming. We don't have enough boats, remember?" He let that sink in. I glanced up, biting my lip as I realized what that meant. "So Feanor and his sons and aquaintances are going first ... and then we are going to send them back for Fingolfin, right?"

Celegorm's silence was enough of an answer. I felt the color drain from my cheeks. "Why? What does your father plan to do?" He sighed.

"He wants to burn the ships as soon as he has the opportunity."

I sprang up, ingoring his outstretched hand, and cried, "What? He can't! Such betrayal would not go over well with Fingolfin's followers! Celegorm, you cannot let him!"

He turned away. All I could see was the silhouette of his thin face by the light outside.

"I am sorry, Luinil, but I must respect my father's wishes. And this way, there is no chance of Fingolfin taking the Silmarils for himself once we find them."

I rolled my eyes. "Your entire house is obsessed with those gems. IT scares me sometimes, Celegorm. Try to let them go."

"Let them go? Luinil, do understand what that would mean? The beauty of the Two Trees would be forever lost, or possibly even defiled by Morgoth! Everything that we have lived and worked for would be ruined!"

"Alright. I apologize. I only wanted to ... make things better."

"While the Silmarils are with that monster, nothing will get better. Trust me."

I narrowed my eyes and Celegorm paused. "Do not take offense to that. It is not your fault that he is your father."

"I am aware that it is not my fault, and I am aware that I can do nothing to change the fact that my mother made a grave mistake; however, I may be able to reverse this. What if I made myself so I was Melkor's mistake?"

Celegorm's eyebrows drew together as he cocked his head to the side, obviously not understanding. I moved closer to him, my voice low as I said, "After all, I am part Vala. What if I make Melkor wish I didn't exist?"

"No doubt he already does," replied Celegorm with a sneer.

"But ... If I were to, say, infiltrate his fortress, pretend to be his servant or slave or whatever he wishes, all while finding information for you..."

He shook his head. "It will not work. He will discover you. If by some miracle he does not, no Elf will believe you. They want you gone, Luinil. You told Feanor that you would rejoin your father, did you not? My father will only believe you are helping the Enemy."

"But you would believe me because you know the truth."

"Luinil, I do not know what is truth anymore. I know it to be true that you despise Elves, and yet I also believe you are telling the truth when you say that you are willing to help."

"I..." I felt like my insides were being violently pulled in two different directions. "I can assure you that I hate Feanor. I hate him with all of my being. He is weak. He quits. He ... he gives up on things he cannot understand. And his children. I have hated all of them, excluding dear Maglor from the moment of their births ... though I am finding you more favorable now."

"Well, I thank you for that, at least,"he said with a grim smile. "Though you should not talk about my father like that in front of me. It is not proper."

I rolled my eyes. "Cel, I could not care less." He bristled at me calling him by a shortened form of his name, and I blushed. "I am sorry," I said, looking down at my thin hands as he sighed.

"I forgive you. But I need your answer. Will you come with us, or stay?"

I bit the bottom of my lip in concentration. What would I gain from helping the Elves? What was in it for me? If something went wrong, I would most likely be subjected to years of torture and pain by my father. There would be no quick death for me. Why risk everything for a people I didn't care about?

Because you know that if Melkor defeats Feanor without any losses to himself, he will only come closer to destroying the world. That means the death of your ancestors on your mother's side, and your friends with them, a voice whispered in my head. I took a shaky breath. I could not stand by and let the people I used love die, and everyone he cared about with him. I had to help the war effort, for my old friends Finarfin and Fingolfin. And perhaps for Feanor too, if only to benefit Maglor.

Besides, if my plan failed, it would not be hard for me to switch loyalties. I could always feed the Elves incorrect information and act as spy for my father or Mairon. No, Sauron. That's what the Elves call him.

The only thing I could not do was return to Fingolfin once I boarded the ship. It was like the time I left Finarfin, though I at least got a chance to say farewell then. I wondered how Finarfin was doing. Finally, I nodded. From the moment I met him, I had a feeling deep down that my destiny was tied to Feanor's.

Celegorm forced a smile. "Great. Come with me." He turned and led me out of the large encampment. Most of the Elves were still on the ground in their sleep-like state, though I could see the sons of Feanor walking through and rousing each one. Celegorm and I reached the very edge of the camp, where the ice and snow was thick, and large rocks jutted out of the ground. I glanced at him.

"Here we are," he stated, gesturing to his right. I looked over, and in the dark, I could make out the shape of several gigantic ships. A group of Elves was already congregating on the shore near the water, waiting to board. A nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach, I looked at Celegorm. "Thank you," was all I could say. He nodded, the turned to leave. He paused. "Put the hood of my cloak up. You'll be less easily recognized that way."

I nodded again, flashing him a smile despite the fact that he couldn't see me. Inhaling deeply, I prepared to board the approaching boat with the other Elves. I tried to imagine mother's arms around me, her gentle voice whispering words of comfort and encouragement. It didn't help the growing feeling of unease in my stomach.

* * *

The boat was cramped and seemed much smaller than it looked. That was most likely because it was filled with people, though I had more room because no one wanted to touch me. Only Celegorm spoke to me, and that was only a brief few words concerning getting off the boat.

I sat in the corner alone, my head on knees, which were pulled up to my chest, and my arms around my head. My eyes were closed. I thought about many things on the trip, things I didn't want to think. Every once in a while, I ate some food and had some water, but I felt odd, almost as if I was sick. But that didn't make sense. I was part Vala. I could not be sick. It wasn't possible for me to be sick.

Finally, after what seemed like forever it was time to get off. There was so much commotion and I felt as though the walls of the boat were closing in on me, trapping me in the bottom and not letting me out. My breathing quickened. Suddenly, something wet touched my lips. Surprised, I put my hand up to my face and looked down, curious as to what the liquid was. When I drew it back, a reddish colored fluid dripped down my fingers. It seemed to coming from somewhere on my face...

Feanor, who had come down to oversee the people leaving, glanced at me.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, his face and voice emotionless. I shook my head as I clamped my hand to my nose, the spot I had identified as the source of the blood. "Good," he said. "I need you to set these boats on fire."

My eyes widened in surprise, and I felt the color drain from my face. "What?"

"Yes, you heard me correctly. You must do it."

I took a breath, wishing I had a piece of cloth to soak up the blood instead of only my hand. It was not very useful, and the red liquid ran down my arm.

"Feanor, I cannot obey this request. I am also a friend of Fingolfin. More him than you, actually."

Feanor drew his sword, pushing me back up against a wall. No one else was in the room, and I couldn't easily call for help because of my nose. Not that anyone would help me. touching the tip of his blade to my neck, he said, "You will set these boats on fire for me, or I will tie you up and you will burn here while I get someone else to start the fire."

Anger flared in my chest, but I managed to keep it under control. I had chosen my path, and no matter how much I regretted it, there was no going back.

"I will," I said through my bloody hand, feeling tears well up in my eyes again.