I own nothing.
Melian could profess to be fond of all of her husband's "lost" brother's grandchildren, at least the ones she had met. As far as she knew, there were five of them, but they had only met three, the two oldest, and the youngest and only daughter. The oldest and youngest of Olwë's grandchildren, Findaráto and Artanis (Thingol had muttered something in Melian's ear about bizarre Quenya names, but had still smiled when they arrived), had arrived in Menegroth late last night, weary from long, long hours on the road.
In the few moments that were spent standing outside the Thousand Caves before Thingol ushered the two of them inside, Melian supposed she had the measure of Artanis and Findaráto. Wise beyond their years, made wise by blood and pain, shadowed by ice. This morning, though, when the pair of them were introduced to the Doriathrin royal court for the first time, Melian saw a different side of them, gay and golden as they milled about the shorter Sindarin Elves, doing their slightly-harried best to speak in Doriathrin Sindarin without much of an accent.
Elves. Melian smiled slightly. It still seemed strange to her at times, living entirely amongst Elves. The differences between the Elves and the Maiar were not so great as, say, between the Elves and the Naugrim, but were still enough to give her pause from time to time, in their eating habits or the way they reacted to trees and plants and such. For now, though, the differences that were not so great to begin with seemed trifling at best, and did not trouble her.
Then, she saw something that… amused her.
"Don't look now, my dear, but I think that your brother's grandson is in love with your other brother's granddaughter," Melian muttered behind her hand to Thingol, smirking.
Sitting next to her upon their twin thrones, Thingol frowned uncomprehendingly. Melian's smirk deepened as she pointed to Artanis and the brother's grandson in question, who were standing off to the side of the chamber, away from the tables and the feasting Elves, deep in discussion. Artanis smiled brightly, looking particularly dazzling under the torchlight, her gold-silver hair glistening. Celeborn had a look on his face not too dissimilar from the look Thingol had had upon his face when he first saw Melian, who looked upon the two of them smirking now. Completely star-struck, she thought to herself.
Thingol looked at his wife. He looked at Artanis and Celeborn. He looked at Melian again, still slightly uncomprehending. A cautious look came up over his face, as did often appear when Melian showed flashes of 'insight.' "How can you be so sure?" he asked slowly, deliberately.
Melian patted his arm. "A mother knows, my dear," she said lightly and knowingly.
It was how she'd known that Lúthien had no romantic interest in Daeron, after all.
Findaráto—Finrod
Artanis—Galadriel
Naugrim—Dwarves