Queen's Counsel by StarSpray

One

It was not Melian's wont to speak against her husband in public. When she did she tried to do so gently. She would not undermine his authority before his people—she was not one of Bauglir's creatures to bend others by force to her will.

But in the privacy of their chambers it was a different matter. That was where he sought her opinion and where she gave it—and where she sometimes gave it without his asking, as now. "You cannot be serious, Elu," she said as he paced the length of their bedchamber. His long silver hair was loosed from its braids, falling in kinked waves down his back and over his shoulders, rippling with each step. His fists were clenched together behind his back. "You would imprison your own daughter?"

"I would keep her safe." The words were harsh, clipped. He was angry—he always got angry when he was afraid.

"You wish to keep her close," Melian said, "but in doing so you will do nothing but drive her farther away. This is what you wrought when you sent Beren Barahirion after a Silmaril!" The very word Silmaril seemed heavy on her tongue, weighed down by blood and grief and rage. And it would only grow heavier.

"I don't care about the Silmarils," Elu snapped as he turned on his heel to pace back across the room. "I only wanted him gone. And he will not return without one—and so shall not return at all."

"You do not know that, Elu. There is a doom also that lies upon Beren's shoulders. I cannot see where his path will take him, but I feel that it will bring him back to Neldoreth, at least once. And Elu, he is valiant and brave and his family has long held the esteem of your nephew Felagund. If Lúthien would have him, why do you object so?"

"He will die regardless. You would have Lúthien bind herself to a mortal Man for but a handful of heartbeats, ere her own heart is broken? I will not."

"Do you think she is blind to it?" Melian demanded, raising to her own feet.

"She will forget him, if given the chance."

"If you believe that," Melian said coldly, "then you do not know your own daughter." Shadows gathered around her, darkening the room, and with effort she banished them. The lamps along the walls flickered, and flared again. "I will have no part in this. I warned you before, and I say again: you have done nothing but drag Lúthien and the whole of your kingdom into the Doom that lies heavy upon the Noldor. And what is more, you break your daughter's heart. I leave you alone in this folly, Elu Thingol."

She left their rooms, and found Lúthien as she was being escorted to the house fresh-built in Hírilorn. There were silvery tear tracks on her daughter's face, half-hidden behind a curtain of her hair. The escorts bowed and stepped away, allowing Melian room to embrace her daughter. "I am sorry, my love," she murmured. "Your father will not hear my counsel. But if you would have it…" She ran her fingers through Lúthien's hair, twining a strand around her fingers and tugging gently, as she had often done—though amid laughter rather than tears—when Lúthien was a child. "Remember all the songs that I have taught you. They will aid you in your solitude." As Lúthien's eyes lit with understanding and a renewal of hope, Melian kissed her, and stepped away.

When Melian heard later that Lúthien had sung her hair long enough to twist a rope the height of Hírilorn, and sung her guards into an enchanted sleep, and slipped away with the ease and silence of a bat in the gloaming, she hid both her own tears and a smile behind her her own shadowy hair.