Narrator's POV

"Mírë," Fëanor told his only daughter. "You must come with your family! Your brothers and I are going to Arda, we must get the Silmarils back!" "The oath you took was the most foolish thing you have ever done!" Mírë cried out to him. "Know that I will take no oath, nor will I willingly leave Valinor." Fëanor grabbed her and dragged her out of the room. "Take your sister," he ordered Meadhros as he thrust her, sobbing, into her brother's arms. "We leave tonight." "Father," Mírë called in a last ditch effort to stay. "If we leave you shall die a death of flames!" "So be it!" Fëanor snarled as he stalked towards the shores of the Teleri. "He has gone mad!" Mírë cried to her brother, who held her closely. Only a few hours later, the first kin slaying occurred… Mírë, the diamond of the Noldor, took no part of it, large or small. The seas were rough, and to Mirë it felt like her heart was being torn from her body every day they sailed away.

When they landed, Meadhros turned to his father and said. "Who will we send back for Fingolfin and his host?" But the heart of Fëanor was bitter against his half brother, and he burned the ships. Mírë happened to be near the ship Amras had traveled on when it had been set on fire. She heard his cries of pain, but was powerless to assist and he died. Meadhros found her sobbing in the ashes, next to the ship's charred remains. "Mírë," he said trying to get her to rise. "What's wrong? What is it?" "Well did father name Amras, our youngest brother, 'the Fated!'" She said, and she rubbed the ashes on her silvery gold hair. And Meadhros understood that Amras had died.

Soon after Fëanor made camp and set out to attack Morgoth's forces. Mírë begged him not to go, saying he would meet a fire fiercer than even the one within him. He heeded her not, and he met his end by a horde of balrogs. Mírë again rubbed ashes into her hair and mourned for a time.

After she deemed the time of mourning should end, she washed her hair and went deep into the woods. She stayed for a week, familiarizing herself with the lands about her. Sauron caught sight of her, and was dazzled by the beauty of the elf. He watched her from a distance, listening to her songs and watching her fight the orcs he sent after her. As he watched, something seemed to grow in his heart like a weed, every time he left her to do his duties it seemed to pain his heart, as if a plant had placed deep roots inside his heart and leaving her caused it to be pulled. He spent more and more time watching her, longing to bring her to the fortress but not daring to do it himself, for fear of making her fear him more.

When she left for her home he tried to make himself believe it was only a fancy he had had, yet he continued thinking of her and the pain in his heart gave him no peace. Finally, he wrote a letter to Meadhros, requesting her hand in marriage. Meadhros called his brothers together and for many days they debated what to do. After four days of debate and argument they decided to give their sister to Sauron. Maglor disagreed with his brothers, saying he did not wish to torment his sister in that way, but the others hoped to trick Sauron and ignored him.

Sauron was delighted with his wife, but Mírë loathed him, though she hid it well and he knew naught of it. About this time, Morgoth offered to Meadhros surrender, and arranged to meet him. Meadhros came, but brought more men than what was agreed upon. But the heart of Morgoth was filled with treachery, and his force was the greater. All the host of Meadhros were slain, but Meadhros was brought before Morgoth alive… and that is where this part of the story begins…