The sun was setting in a blaze of glory, reflecting on the damp sands and turning the waves flickering gold, as they rolled up to break upon the shore.
The little Mithrim Princess stood waist-deep in the sea, her hair unbound and trailing out on the waters. "Fingon! Fingon, where are you?"
The surface of the waters was unbroken. She sighed, and went out a little deeper, where the surf broke around her shoulders and then melded back together behind her.
There was a gasp and Fingon's black head appeared as she jumped back in surprise. He laughed, tossing his black hair back from his face. "And that is as long as I can stay underwater. Do I win?"
The Princess looked up at him. Her head came only to her husband's broad chest; she was well-used to looking up. "Yes, yes, you win. I had thought you had drowned, you were down there so long."
Fingon grinned, his breathing still deeper than normal. "Is that so? I never thought I would best you; you have lived from your childhood by the shore."
She laughed. "I did not spend much time under the water. I swam much, I am still your better in that."
He nodded, gently twining a silvery curl around his finger. "Indeed you are, Neniêl."
In return, Neniêl pulled on the night-black plaits. "Of course I am."
Fingon swung his bride over his shoulder effortlessly, preceding into deeper waters. "I have practiced. Do you want to see about that now?"
Neniêl splashed indignantly. "Yes! But let me down!"
"Your wish is my command." retorted Fingon playfully, dropping her.
Neniêl resurfaced a few seconds later, treading water, her grey eyes narrowed in a challenge. "Go!"
A little while later, two weary figures stumbled onto the beach, dropping onto the sands. The sun's last rays were gone, and now a few stars were beginning to show in the sable velvet of the sky. The sea was rolling on, its foam-crested waves glinting in the moonlight. Neniêl was panting, leaning against Fingon's chest. "I won."
He laughed and kissed her wet head. "Of course you did."