He came to her at night, clad in glittering helm and armor and girt with sword and shield, shimmering against the black depths of the night, and the fire in his eyes burned brighter than ever, but it dimmed as he looked upon her and said, “The host of the Noldor is leaving for Middle-earth, and though we are divided in purpose, we are resolved to forsake these lands ruled by those who seek to hem us in forever—and as for me and my sons, we will not return hither until our deed is accomplished or death takes us; so we have sworn, and so we are bound.”

Nerdanel curled her fingers around the frame of the door, but she met his gaze evenly as she said, “This last counsel I will give you, and though you will heed it not, you will see its truth in the days and years hence: Though you seek victory, you go only to death—and in your madness, you will lead our sons down into death with you, and all the purposes of your flight will come to ruin.”

His face was as still as marble as he studied her, though his eyes glittered in anger, and he turned and left in silence; and Nerdanel sagged against the doorframe, following the bright glint of his armor as he disappeared into the host of the Noldor gathered in the streets below, and she watched the torches of the host rise to pierce the night and listened to their cries echo through the wide streets of Tirion, until they passed through the gates of the city and the light of their torches disappeared beneath the slope of the hill.