They spent that first midsummer's night in the meadows above Andúnië and, as dawn spread behind them, watched faint Elwing's rise.
"Have you thought on flying, beloved?" Elentíriel asked, head in Míriel's lap.
"On Eagles, when I was a girl."
"What of ships that fly?"
Míriel laughed and stroked her lover's hair.
Later, when she was no longer Míriel but Zimraphel, she thought long on Elwing, how Ulmo answered her plea for escape and reunion.
In Númenor's last hour, she found that Elentíriel had forsaken neither her Tar-Míriel nor her winged ships, and, as the final wave rose, they flew.