First off, my apologies for how long it took me to respond to everyone who reviewed Freedom. The sinus infection I've had since October flared up, and left me rather miserable, I'm afraid. And on the subject of apologizing, I realized that the A/N for that story was rather more cranky than I intended. So...have this old fic in apology! And please review!
"I don't see why Adar is so…so…unreasonable about this!" Lúthien stormed.
"He feels Beren is beneath you, dear," Melian replied calmly. Lúthien made a sound of frustration a bit too melodic to be called a growl.
"Of all things…he married you, did he not?" The Maia-turned-mother smiled gently down at her beautiful daughter.
"He did," Melian replied simply.
"Was it odd for you, Naneth?" Lúthien asked, he anger cooling as her mind moved on another track, though Melian knew it would only be a temporary respite. "To accept this life?"
Lúthien sank to sit gracefully on her bed, and Melian joined her, looking at her hands. Hands that were more real, and had done more than any of her kind…
"Sometimes," Melian admitted. "Especially at first. I would try to do something I had done with ease in my youth…and found it almost impossible. Now, at times I find myself wondering at how well I am able to forget that I once could do more." Lúthien coiled up, raising a slim leg and resting her chin on her knee.
"Why did you do it?" she asked softly. Melian smiled.
"Because I loved him," she replied simply. "And now, knowing what it would entail, I would cleave to him with even less hesitation." She reached out and stroked her daughter's hair.
"I love Beren, Naneth," Lúthien whispered. "I know he may be beneath me…but you wed one of lesser stature than yourself, and do not regret it."
"There is a difference, my daughter," Melian said gravely. "Your father and I have the assurance of at least all the Ages of Arda together. Your Beren… less than a hundred years of the Sun, and he will be gone."
"I know," Lúthien sighed. "But…Naneth, no one has yet stirred my heart till now. I would…I would rather love true for one mortal lifetime, brief though it may be, than to loose this out of fear of pain to come.
"And surely this is something that was meant to be, some melody of the Song?" Lúthien continued, rising to pace again. "For he passed your girdle. Some doom drives him. My heart tells me…my heart tells me that somehow, someway, our love will change everything."
"Then, my daughter," Melian said gravely, standing as well. "Follow as your heart directs. And though it lead you into darkness, face it fearless." Lúthien raised her clear grey eyes to meet her mother's identical star-lit silver. She spoke no word, but Melian knew that her daughter spoke true. This was the doom that had led her here, to this so solid flesh, to bring forth this child with her beloved Elwë. That the mortal Beren had been led here by that same doom, to stand by her daughter. And together, they would shape the Song itself.
If only her mother's heart did not whisper forebodingly that this doom would leave her bereft…
You cannot tell me these two did not have such a conversation. Not with the parallels between their situations.