Disclaimer: All characters, except those without prior history, belong fully to the mind of Tolkien, and are used with full intent to give them back when I am done.

I always questioned what Melian did after Thingol's death, in the Sil it says only that she went away, well here is what I think she felt and did, in mourning for the elf she left her former life for. There was also the unanswered question as to how others felt of such occurences.

Side note, features cameos by characters some of you might know.

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The light of the new sun over the tree-tops of Neldoreth seemed as blood soaked as the caverns of Menegroth where lay the murdered body of Thingol only the night before. There she sat upon the Hirilorn, alone weeping deep and cavernous tears, she cursed herself,

You should not feel this way

And yet her once melodious voice cracked under the weight of it all, she had lost the only one in all of the history of her existence who had "captured" her, subdued her to his love. No strength of her former ethereal existence could stop her weeping, for she felt sorrow and breaking love from the very pit of her breast, where once her beloved daughter suckled immortal milk from her bosom. Unlike the Eldar with whom she lived and ruled over and protected as a mother, she aged a little, allowing her eyes to weigh themselves with age as her husband's had, before…

Curse you! You were born of the thought of the Divine, You cannot feel this way…He was proud, stubborn, annoyingly so, and he angered any in his presence... he was…

She could not curse him- not now- and she feared not ever, by cursing him she felt the weight of his death ease upon her, and yet only for a brief and subtle moment, for her thoughts would quickly change to how they met- how she enchanted him, and in his stupor, how he enchanted her with what sounded like infantile utterings about her beauty.

She remembered when, upon the lighting of the star-lit sky and the opening of the gates of Valinor to the first born children of Eru, how she herself passed through her loins a star upon the earth to praises and rejoicing, the Evenstar, the beautiful child of her people. No not her people, she was not of them, she was of the heavens and of the blessed realm- she was Maiar, not born of blood and flesh…and yet she felt warmth as they did, cold as they did, pain, sorrow, death, birth, love?

And she lay her gaze around the entire room that stood upon a foundation of strong ancient limbs, where her daughter remained captive, for her love of a mortal man. Melian, Queen of Doriath, sat upon the soft down filled bed, and felt every strength within her break, every emotion flood her mind so that her nose felt warm and her tears ran down her tender ancient visage, just as Sirion cut through the fastness of her power.

Her angry heaving breaths cursed not the husband, whose now mutilated form lay in the grand hall preparing for burial, but rather her own foolishness. Here she dedicated her entire being to bringing a kingdom to greatness, her entire power was spent protecting a land from all evil, and for what? To be bested by the greed of one simple elf who knew nothing of power though he had much of it! She grew tired of these Noldor and their pride, even glorious Fingolfin and his beautiful children were of these proud race of people, who would have died ere they met her husband's kin. It was they whose jewel brought her destruction, for her life was tied to the one she loved most dearly in all the entirety of the universe. Even now every breath she took was one less breath upon the land she was tied to, for the love of an elf, of a people, who came to see her as their mother.

She did not weep when she heard of Hithlum's destruction, or that of Nagarthrond, or any of the realms of the Feanorion. She rejoiced a little in their demise, knowing her kingdom, her rule was unquestioned…No, Doriath was not her kingdom, though its people would follow her to the ends of the earth, as long as she kept them safe…but what power now did she have? It was broken, her love of this world, of this youthful world, now stood second to her. The song of the trees she no longer heard, only her celestial and immortal blood rushing through her veins, pounding in her ears. Yes, she felt it, life surging in her very being,

At last, this is what it feels like to be alive…how it is loathsome, to feel life at long last as they do, only to know it with sorrow and ending power.

"Where are they?"

" The Naugrim have fled, they are no longer within the borders of this land…they took the old road…The Prince Celeborn has raced after them with what might he had, word has been sent to Ossiriand, Beren comes himself!"

She heard voices beneath the ancient tree and in her sorrowful anger she ran to the window from where they rose. And spoke out to the two armoured Sindar beneath her very eyes. Knowing one of them well she called out in a fey and unearthly tongue, speaking words of the Sindar,

"Elorn! To where has the Prince gone?"

"Y…your Majesty, he has gone east, following the track of the Naugrim who fled the smithies."

"Why did you not go with him?"

"He bade me not to, he was rushing and filled with a fey anger…"

"Whence did he leave?"

"Last night as the moon passed the parapet of the sky."

She moved away from the window, heavily breathing in deep waves of the western air; closing her eyes and opening her mind's ears she heard the song of the hollow wind and the soft voice of the trees; and in the distance she heard a deep and ancient groan, and in the realm of thought where all life is in a gentle and ever shifting balance she heard the voice of the East. She gazed into the hearth that was lit before her, and in the shifting of the winds the fire leapt up in ever flying flames, and they danced upon the surface of the floor, and yet did not burn the gently carved house on the tree. The flames danced around her in flames of piercing light and a bowl of water shimmered in the gathering fire-blaze. Thunder from the upper airs pierced the sounds, and over thousands of miles she peered beyond the reach of elven eyes. In the bowl before her she peered and a soft mist was lifted from the water's surface and reflected from the hearth fire she saw a woodland country, ancient and gnarled with long life, whose arms reached unto the very roots of the Ethryn Luin. Peering deeply into the flame-lit bowl she again heard a hale and angered voice,

"Boorarum…Eeeenatumbarrrruuuum…What evil awakes the Onodrim!"

"Betrayal Ancient one! Awaken your brothers! The Forests go to War with the stunted people!"

"What causes this Queen of Neldoreth! For what cause do you envoke the wrath of the ancient world?!"

"Thingol has died, hewn by the axes of the Naugrim"

'Boorauruuum Axes! Breaking cracking axes!!"

"I call forth the legions of the forest, avenge your ally and friend!"

And in the hollow morning as the day light ran over the forest of Neldoreth, a great and moaning tone ran forth from the parapet of the trees, horns were blown, and a sorrowful lament was sung announcing the death of Thingol King.

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Elorn: Yes!! If any of youare familiar with my other stories, Elorn is the father of Celebrin who is the main character in a series I have begun posting on this site, the first of which is the "House of Uial and the Tale of the Last Son"

Sorry if the "magic" of Melian is a bit off color for the Tolkienian universe, but I thought it needed a bit of dramatic flavor. Tell me what you all think, R & R please!