She had labored all day and into the night. Now at last Nimloth lay spent, her silver hair blending with the moonlight scattered across her pillow. Her weary blue eyes at peace, her mighty deed done, she slept.

Her most precious gift to him swaddled and nestling silently in the crook of his strong arm, Dior Aranel walked out into the clear night. Seating himself on a large rock just removed from the misting of Lanthir Lamath, he let the sounds of the waterfall beside his house soothe him as he gazed in wonder at the child in his arms. A wisp of her downy black hair lay on her forehead, contrasting exquisitely with her flawless pale skin. Though born after only 10 months of pregnancy as her elder twin brothers had been, she was smaller than they had been and finer of feature and bone. Stroking her tiny face with his fingers and feeling her fëa respond to the touch of his, he realized elvish blood ran more truly through her than it did through either him or her brothers. Her face reflected very little of his wife’s kinship, but mirrored very much of him. He had secretly hoped his daughter would bear the silver hair and blue eyes of her mother’s kin, but gazing on the child now, he was not at all disappointed. She was their little girl and she was simply beautiful.

Now she needed a name.

Hugging her close, he looked up at the waterfall. The tumbling water swirled and flashed in the moonlight, creating sweet harmonies that even the minstrels of Ossiriand could not rival. Long he listened to the water crashing about the rocks, gazing at the light of the heavens glistening in the sparkling drops as if the very stars had been caught in the spray. Suddenly the foresight of his mother’s kin came upon him.

He beheld a beautiful dark-haired woman clad in white, standing by the sea. The Nauglimir bearing the Silmaril rested upon her, glimmering in between the dark heads of two sleeping baby boys. Then the vision was replaced with a bird rising like a star up from the waters below a cliff to soar over a large body of water and land on a white ship. The scene shifted again to a shining star flying through the night sky to be met at dawn by the same white bird winging its way from a tower out to the sea.

He blinked and saw only the night sky reflected upon the waters near his home. His wife’s mental voice touched his mind and he swiftly rose, leaving behind the glorious night to return to Nimloth’s side.

Entering their bedroom, he lovingly kissed his wife’s lips. “My lady,” he whispered.

She smiled at him sleepily and asked, “Have you thought of a name?”

Glancing down at the lovely face of his daughter and then back at the equally enchanting face of his wife, he smiled happily and replied, “Yes. I shall call her Elwing for the stars of this night and the waters beside our home.”

Nimloth lovingly received the child back into her waiting arms, gazing pensively on the tiny sleeping face. Briefly, something clouded her bright blue eyes. When it had passed, she looked knowingly at Dior.

“Yes, my love. I think that ‘star-spray’ is a suitable name, for the water and the stars shall ever be in her life.”