"Naneth?"

Melian looked at her young daughter with a smile. "Yes, loth tithen?"

Lúthien sat down on the moss, her eyes laughing as she watched the nightingales spin and wheel in song above their Queen's head.

"Since you are a Maia, did you know what it was like to have family?" she ventured. "Or was it something new, when Adar met you?"

A faint smile graced Melian's face. "I knew what it was like, Lúthien. Long ago, I had a sister."

Lúthien leaned forward. "You had a sister? What happened to her?"

Melian paused for a second, fingering the intricate braidery that interlaced her ebony tresses. "She…fell."

Lúthien's eyes remained fixed on her mother's face. "Out of love." continued Melian, and Lúthien frowned a little. "What do you mean, Naneth?"

"Her name was Nuldë, Thurinwen in the tongue you speak, yet belying her name, she was full of mirth and loved all things beautiful and free." Melian's eyes darkened. "We were alike in that, before Arda was fully established, during the Song. But she ever felt drawn to another of our kind, Mairon, and she entered the world at his side."

Lúthien breathed in sharply. "Mairon?"

Melian inclined her head. "You did not mistake me."

"Gorthaur... But how?"

"They say love is blind." replied the Maia softly. "And so as Mairon changed, love cast a veil over Nuldë's eyes, and she adored him, worshiped him with all the passion of her heart. He loved her, perhaps, in his own twisted way, but it was a love that would only endure as long as she was his slave, ready to spring to whatever task he set upon her. She changed then, became more withdrawn with all but Mairon. And then she was gone. She fell into darkness and cannot be saved."

Lúthien sobered, but her youthful heart was too young and merry to remember the grief for long and soon she was laughing amongst the nightingales.

Melian watched her, but no trace of a smile was on her face or in her ageless eyes. Her mind drifted to that dark time, when her sister, once her closest companion, had vanished, and even Manwë's Eagles could see not a trace of her. It was in that time that she had ventured forth into Middle-Earth, ostensibly to explore, when in her heart of hearts, she had been seeking for Nuldë. For years, she had searched, and found naught; the forests had grown, the Firstborn awoke. The Enemy was battled against and imprisoned, and still Melian could find no trace of her lost sister. Then she had encountered Elu, and other matters overwhelmed her mind and heart. Many more years were lost, in her courtship of Elu, and in becoming his Queen, establishing their realm, then carrying and bearing Luthien... It was to her shame that Nuldë all but vanished from her thought. A grief, but one that could not be altered. Until strange, dark tidings came from Denethor's people, of an unknown servant of the Enemy, a female, white-clad, who used wings to haunt the forests, seeking blood for sustenance. And the fear grew closer, reaching out with darkened wings, and somehow, it passed the Girdle.

\It was then Melian had slipped away into the night, leaving her precious child in Elu's arms, and she wandered in silence and fear until she came to Nan Elmoth. There the trees were dark, spreading arches of black leaves in the night, and she felt the presence of another.

"Nuldë?" she whispered, her voice an echoing sadness in the darkened woods.

Wings beat overhead, a figure descended silently to the forest floor, and Melian looked in horror upon her sister. She stood there, clad in a ghostly dress of white. But behind, draped like a cloak hung black wings, barbed with iron claws. And her face was not her own, twisted, taken over by evil. Melian straightened, gathering her strength around her like a cloak. "Who are you?"

There was laughter and a cold voice spoke. "I am she who you called Nuldë. But now I am Moruldís, or for your Sinda love, Thuringwethil."

"Sister, what happened?" asked Melian gently, unwilling to believe her heart's foreboding.

"Gorthaur betrayed me to Morgoth." she snarled, the words filthy in the tainted air. "Look at me, Melyanna, and see what I have become!" The speech of Aman seemed even more vile on her tongue, but Melian did not recoil.

"I looked for my sister, but in vain." replied Melian sadly. "And I cannot find her, not even now. Nuldë, Nuldë, have you wholly surrendered to the darkness?"

Thuringwethil spread out her wings so the iron barbs glinted in the moonlight. "Yes, Melyanna." she said, and her voice was not sad nor glad, but empty.

Melain bent her ebony head in her grief. Tears stung her eyes. Then she straightened. "Then, Thuringwethil, no bond of sisterhood binds us, as much as I mourn for that. But stay far away from Doriath."

Thuringwethil cast her a baleful look. "I go whither I please."

"Yes, whither you please, slave of Gorthaur!"

Thuringwethil's lip curled. "I am no more his slave. I am his messenger, his spy, his general, even."

"Still a slave to all his sorcery and evil. Now begone!"

With a wailing, wraith-like cry, the wings beat the still air and a shadow spun into the black eaves of the forest. It was a swift and terrible journey home, for Melian fled like a bird, and caught up her daughter in her arms and around her wove enchantments that not even Thuringwethil could pierce. \

"Nana?" Her daughter's bright young voice roused her from her dark thoughts. Lúthien gathered her silken skirts and sat down by her mother. "What troubles you, Naneth? Why do you not come and sing?"

Melian rose. "I will, iell nin. I was in a memory of a time long ago."

Lúthien rose with her. "Were you thinking of your sister? I am sorry she could not be saved."

Melian shook her head. "No, my sister is gone. Thuringwethil is in her place. But do not fear, love." she added as Lúthien's grey eyes widened. "I pray you may never face her, but if you do, you, like I, will have the power to defeat her."

Lúthien blanched. "But what if she seeks to harm you or Adar?" The Elfling bit her lip anxiously.

Melian held up her hands, slender, and yet had done so much more that many of her kin. "Do you forget so easily that I am of her own same race, and her match in many respects? I made the Girdle, Lúthien, for a reason." Melian sighed. She had let Thuringwethil in. It had been an involuntary call below her consciousness that had caused her to weaken the strength of the Girdle. Thuringwethil had played with their bonds, but now Melian had cut her off all together, formed a wall in her heart. The Girdle would not break for Thuringwethil's call again. "She cannot enter Doriath. We are safe here."

Lúthien embraced her. "You promise she will not hurt anyone?"

Melian smiled back into the innocent face. "I promise." She caressed Luthien's cheek, and the child beamed, reassured. Melian could not help but smile back at her, even as another vision unfolded in her mind.

\Luthien was now a woman grown. A mist like cloak surrounded her, woven of fine black strands. She was moving rapidly, slipping across the parched ground towards a great towering fortress, a huge Hound at her side. Thuringwethil stood upon the terraces, bat wings outstretched, face forward, eyes searching the land beneath. Luthien and the Hound moved silently, with extreme caution through the shadowy structure, drawing ever nearer to Thuringwethil, who now was standing upon the ramparts directly before them, her back still turned to the intruders in her dark domain. Luthien edged ever closer to the vampire, her pale face intent with some purpose. Power was clear in the air that surrounded her as she moved, shrouded from Thuringwethil's sight./

"Naneth? What is wrong?"

Melian hugged her tighter. "Have no fear, my child. Thuringwethil may play some part in your future, but it will be to her doom, not yours. But that will not be for many, many years, Lúthien."

Yet as Luthien danced away, carefree once more, Melian stood for a few minutes, lost in thought. Did the vision show Luthien overcoming Thuringwethil, and putting an end to her curse, or would the future bring darker woes upon them all? She closed her eyes, recalling words once spoken by Nàmo, in the Deeps of Time. "What will be, will be. Ours is not to change the future."

Cold comfort, but truth nonetheless. Melian pushed all thoughts of a bleak nature aside and went to join her daughter in her game. Best to live in the present, not fret the future or brood upon the past.