Sleepless in Lórien by elennalore

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Sleepless in Lórien

Melyanna = Melian

Elwë= Elu Thingol

They were weary after the wonders they had seen, so Oromë offered to take them to a place to rest.

 

Not all of them wanted to leave Taniquetil, though. Ingwë desired to stay in Ilmarin, close to King of Arda who had met with the three ambassadors before. He would probably fall asleep at the feet of Manwë later.

 

Elwë missed the trees. He wanted to walk on grass, not on marble floors and paved stones of Ilmarin. Together with his friend Finwë, they grasped Oromë’s hand, and the world spun round. When Elwë opened his eyes, he was in another place. Finwë stood next to him, looking around with open curiosity.

 

The first thing Elwë’s mind registered was the light fragrance of unfamiliar flowers in the air. Then, the relative dimness of the garden. It was the time of mingling of the lights, but he imagined that the dimness would always linger in that place. Too much light had made his head ache; this was much better.

 

“Welcome to Lórien.” A new Vala had appeared next to them. This had to be Irmo Lórien. He bowed his head slightly as he greeted them. “Here you can sleep until you are fully rested.”

 

Elwë knelt before him together with Finwë. Tentacles of mist circled Irmo and reached out to touch them lightly, studying them. The Valar were as curious about them as they were about the Valar and their realm.

 

Oromë left them with Irmo, promising to return when they had awoken. They walked across peaceful meadows full of colourful flowers, and among pines and cypress trees, until they arrived at a small pond. It was surrounded by willows and smaller bushes. A wistful flute of blackbird could be heard nearby.

 

Under a weeping willow, hidden by long hanging branches, they found two beds made of fern and covered with fine linen sheets and pillows.

 

“I hope you will find them adequate,” Irmo’s voice echoed behind the wall of leaves. “We did not know what kind of bed you prefer. We can make another from straw and flowers if this is not to your liking.”

 

Elwë and Finwë exchanged a glance. It felt strange to be pampered like this.

 

“This is everything we needed and more,” Finwë answered and flashed a private grin at Elwë. “We thank you, o Lord of Lórien.”

 

“Sleep well, then, Children of Ilúvatar,” they heard Irmo’s voice say, and then his presence vanished as if it had never been.

 

There had been some spell in Irmo’s words, for they both began to yawn widely, and the idea of sleep began to feel alluring.

 

Finwë took the bed with purple sheets and ran his finger along elegant embroidery, as if trying to memorize the pattern of flowers and leaves. His beloved was skilled at needlework, Elwë knew – perhaps Finwë would describe the pattern to her when they returned home.

 

Elwë’s bed had blueish-grey sheets. Instead of flowers, songbirds were embroidered on them. There were leaves, too, but these were different from the garden plants on Finwë’s sheets. Elwë recognized leaves of oak, and ash and beech – all familiar trees from home, although he had not seen such great trees in the Gardens of Lórien yet.

 

He took off his boots and lay down on the bed, but sleep evaded him. His mind buzzed with excitement after all they had seen and experienced. This had happened to him before – he knew he should walk around a little before trying to get some sleep. He sat up. Next to him, Finwë’s breathing had become steady – his friend had already fallen asleep.

 

Elwë did not bother with boots. Grass was soft and cool under his soles and pleasant to walk on. His steps took him away from the pond and slightly uphill towards a well-tended hedge. He wanted to see what was on the other side.

 

There was an opening in the hedge, but it faced another hedge wall. A circular passage led to the left between them. It was some kind of a maze. Elwë studied the area. Even though he was tall, the hedge walls were still taller, and he could not see over them. Stepping farther away, he saw a great tree growing in the middle. It was a curious place. He stepped on the grassy path between the hedge walls and started to walk.

 

Walking the circular way was simple. There were no junctions, just a winding path that slowly took him towards the centre of the maze. Elwë wondered what purpose such a place could serve. Perhaps it just existed, like so many things in Aman. Perhaps it was there just because he needed a place to soothe his overexcited mind. He accepted it without questioning, as he had accepted many other things that had happened to him lately.

 

He walked, barefoot, along the passage until he found himself at the centre of the maze. The open area was wider than he had expected. In the middle of a circular space grew the great tree he had seen from afar. His first thought was that it was an oak, but the leaves were different. He did not have a name for it.

 

A dark shape detached itself from the shadows of the tree trunk. An Ainu in a shape of a woman, her grace and beauty impeccable. Elwë’s heart leapt – he recognized her. She was Melyanna, one of the guardians whom the Valar had sent to Middle-earth, and the only one of them who had joined the company of Oromë and the three Elven ambassadors on their way to Valinor. She had kept her distance, and Elwë did not know her well. Something in the way she now looked at him made Elwë shiver. She would be a formidable opponent. Then her features softened, and a smile played about her lips.

 

“Can’t you sleep, Ambassador?” There was a smile in her gentle voice.

 

“I... It’s been a long day, Lady Melyanna.” He wished his words wouldn’t sound so much like a complaint.

 

She gave an empathetic nod, nevertheless. “It must be a truly wondrous thing to see Valinor for the first time. But we should not wear our guests out. Wasn’t the bed to your liking?”

 

These Ainur really fussed about those beds, Elwë thought wryly. It had to be because they did not need to sleep themselves. They were aware that their knowledge of how to get a good night’s sleep was limited.

 

“No, the beds were perfect. Nothing wrong with them. I’m just... too restless to sleep at the moment. And I’m afraid I’m not yet used to this much light. A walk around the gardens will help, I’m sure of it.”

 

“And so you walked along the passage to this place,” Melyanna spoke as if to herself.

 

“What is this place?” Elwë asked.

 

She did not answer his question but turned to face the tree. Her slender hands touched dark bark, and Elwë felt a surge of power fill the area.

 

“This tree is almost unique,” Melyanna said at last. “Only two of them exist in Arda. I’m tending to both of them.”

 

“The two trees. I understand.” Elwë gave a dry laugh.

 

“Not those Two Trees,” Melyanna said and tilted her head slightly, as if evaluating whether he was dull in mind. It had been a joke, but now Elwë began to wonder if the concept of joking was even familiar to the Ainur.

 

“It was a joke,” he finally said.

 

“Oh.” And then Melyanna laughed aloud and visibly relaxed. Her laugher sounded like the chirp of birds.

 

“Where is the other tree?” Elwë dared to ask.

 

“In a forest in Middle-earth. Not where the Eldar live. Closer to Aman.”

 

“I would like to see it one day.”

 

“Perhaps you will.”

 

She had a captivating smile, and an aura of otherness about her. Elwë found her fascinating, even though she was not an Elf, or maybe even because of it.

 

Melyanna extended her hand and parted the branches of the great tree. When she withdrew her hand, it was holding a single red blossom. It was the size of her palm and seemed to glow faintly, like embers of the hearth. Elwë gasped in awe. The blossom was exquisite and ethereal. She held it on her palm and offered it to Elwë.

 

“Does it please you, Ambassador?” she asked almost shyly.

 

He took it carefully in his hand. The glowing colour was like a flame. The blossom had a delicate, sweet fragrance.

 

“It’s wonderful,” he whispered. “The trees in Middle-earth don’t have blossoms like this.”

 

He saw Melyanna frowning and hastened to add: “Except the one that is its twin, of course. Now, even more, I want to find that other tree and see it with my own eyes.”

 

Melyanna leaned forward, her dark eyes scrutinized him. Only now Elwë realized how tall the Maia really was. She was taller than him. It felt different to look up to another person, Elwë noticed. When he met Melyanna’s gaze, he felt his pulse quicken.

 

Melyanna continued to study him. Evaluating him. Finally, her mouth broke into a smile, and Elwë knew he had passed some unknown test. She raised her hand and sang a word in Valarin that made Elwë’s body tremble. Instinctively, he found himself cowering before her might. But then – an astonishing sight. Melyanna’s voice had summoned songbirds to appear all around her. They flew in the air right above them, singing. Their song was both alluring and delightful, and even if Elwë had been momentarily frightened before, the birdsong erased all fear and doubt from his mind.

 

“If you want to find its twin tree in Middle-earth,” she said softly, “seek the song of the nightingales.”

 

Elwë nodded; he did not want to break the enchantment with his voice. After a while, the nightingales disappeared among the leaves of the great tree although their song could still be heard.

 

Elwë blinked and rubbed his eyes. A sudden weariness filled his body. He was far away from home, but somewhere in Middle-earth, another marvellous tree grew in a forest. It was a secret Melyanna had shared with him. He was honored.

 

“Do you want to sleep?” Melyanna asked him. She must have noticed the subtle signs of weariness.

 

“I should at least try to get some sleep,” Elwë admitted reluctantly.

 

In truth, he would have liked to stay with Melyanna and learn more about her, but he knew his body needed rest. They would go to the Halls of Aulë tomorrow. Finwë was eager to see the place, and Elwë wanted to experience it together with his friend.

 

“I can give you sleep,” Melyanna said, although she looked a bit unsure about it. “If you want it.”

 

Elwë was not sure what she meant, but her offer touched his heart. He nodded in approval.

 

With a shy smile on her lips, she pulled an almost transparent grey scarf from around her neck and cast it in the air. Elwë felt time slowing down. He gave Melyanna a questioning look. A feeling of being captured could not be avoided. Melyanna’s reassuring smile was the last thing he saw before the scarf fell down on him, covering his head with dreamy mists. A tiny part of him wanted to fight against the spell, but he knew that Melyanna would not harm him. He fell into a deep slumber.

 

Elwë woke up in his bed, under the weeping willow. Finwë lay on the bed next to him, eyes open.

 

“You’re awake at last!” Finwë exclaimed happily.

 

Elwë rose slowly to a sitting position. He had no memory of returning to his bed. He remembered the enigmatic meeting with Melyanna, and the last glimpse of her smile, and then nothing.

 

“I took a little walk outside after you had fallen asleep. I met our guardian Maia there, lady Melyanna. I can’t remember how I got back. You did not happen to spot her carrying me in her arms, did you?”

 

Finwë chuckled. “You’ve had a weird dream, my friend. It’s this place – I had my share of wild dreams as well. Perhaps Ingwë made the right choice, staying in Ilmarin.”

 

Elwë’s hand reached into the pouch on his belt. He pulled out the flame-coloured blossom Melyanna had given to him. He remembered putting it into his pouch. There was still some of its sweet fragrance left. He showed Finwë the blossom, smiling triumphantly.

 

“Not a dream. She gave me this.”

 

The fragrance brought back the memory of nightingales. It gave him a longing to hear their song again. Seek the song of the nightingales, she had said.

 

He already knew that what had happened between them had been something extraordinary.

 

Perhaps I will, he thought. Perhaps I will.

Chapter End Notes

Thank you for reading! In this fic, I have used a specific NoME canon. In The Nature of Middle-earth, there is a mention that Melian (Melyanna) was one of the guardians that the Valar had sent to Cuiviénen. Perhaps she and Elwë knew each other before the events in the forest of Nan Elmoth? (It is purely my headcanon that she travelled with the ambassadors back to Valinor, though.) I wanted to write a slow burn version of their relationship where they gradually become fascinated by each other. As a silvergifting writer, I find it also interesting to compare their relationship to that other Maia-Elf relationship. There is always a little otherness in it.

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