I own nothing.
When word came to Daeron and Mablung, brothers in their wandering, that Thingol was lost no longer, when word came to them that Thingol had emerged from the shadows and established a place of strength, a home for the Edhil of Beleriand, they wandered no longer. Instead, they went to Eglador, where Thingol had made his home, with his wife, his child, his people.
"It's good that we are going to a safe place," Mablung remarked lightly as they made their journey. "I grow weary of always having to save your skin from some peril."
"And is my music the only reason you tolerate my presence, then?" Daeron asked with a snort and a toss of the head.
To this, Mablung only laughed and slapped his back, and they continued their journey south.
Upon reaching Eglador, Mablung and Daeron took different paths. Mablung, a great woodsman, became one of the wardens of Thingol's great forests. That was the best place for him; Daeron had always known his friend to be far more at home in the forests than he was in any of the small settlements they had stayed in.
But Daeron was no woodsman. Mablung had not exaggerated when he said that Daeron needed looking after in the wilds. Daeron was a maker of music, a flute-player and minstrel. That had ever been his passion, his joy. He was well-known throughout Beleriand for his gifts with music, and to his delight reunited with several old acquaintances, also minstrels, in Eglador.
Daeron settled into life as a minstrel in the court of Elu Thingol, High King over the Sindar. As Daeron's skill became more plainly evident, he grew in the favor of the King and his court. He watched the world from his place there, watched, and wondered.
Melian the Queen was perhaps the most unnerving person Daeron had ever met. She was not an Edhel, but a spirit. She was taller than any nís Daeron had ever known; indeed, Melian towered over many of the neri. Her voice had a strange echoing quality to it, her body seemed insubstantial. Her feet seemed to never quite reach the ground when she walked, and she walked in eerie silence. Her eyes glittered with swimming pinpricks of light; even when she stood in darkness, they glowed.
There were those who whispered about the Queen's influence over the King. There were many who resented Thingol for his long absence, and did not trust Melian a whit. Daeron was not in that camp. He would admit that he was never truly comfortable in the Queen's presence, and knew few who were. Her alien nature was off-putting, and Daeron was not the only one who felt that way. Above all that, what was most important was that, after his long absence, Thingol was again attempting to do right by his people. Melian was off-putting, but she was not overtly threatening.
And Thingol and Melian had a daughter.
Though Ages might pass, though the sea might flood Eglador until none of it was left standing, though all Edhil might leave Ennor, though their people might pass out of all songs and legends, though the very earth might forget, Daeron would never forget the first time he laid eyes on Lúthien.
Lúthien, daughter of Melian, had many of the qualities that made her mother strange and unnerving, but took them and made them natural. She spoke in a voice that held power behind it, sparking and crackling, restrained and just waiting for the chance to free itself; if any daughter of the Edhil had skill and boundless potential with magic, it was Lúthien. She was quick, and lithe, and graceful, stepping so lightly on the grass beneath her feet the stalks did not even break. Her skin was ever bathed with light; her eyes were full of stars.
She was the most beautiful nís that Daeron had ever seen, and when she smiled at him, it was as though all the stars were shining on him at once.
Edhil—Elves (singular: Edhel) (Sindarin)
Eglador—the original name of Doriath, meaning 'Land of the Forsaken'
Nís—woman (plural: nissi)
Neri—men (singular: nér)
Ennor—Middle-Earth (Sindarin)