Introduction: This is part three of the Tale of Melanye Ancalime. If you haven't read part one, I suggest you do so. Reading the story 'Ancalime' would also help, as several references are made to it. (and for those of you reading the Elvendiaries, yes, that is the same Ameron ;) And no, I haven't forgotten about it. I'm writing further chapters now, but the next one is waiting patiently for attention. ) So that's about it. This may not make a lot of sense if you haven't read the beginning, but if it does, all the more power too you ;)

Disclaimer: Melanye, Ancalime, Ameron, Lindir, Coume, Rachun, Lyria, Mutoh, and any other characters I come up with belong to me, all else is Tolkien's.

Chapter Twenty-Three: 'To Sleep Perchance to Dream'

Cóume stood fingering his bowstring. He was one of the four who had volunteered for second watch but he was beginning to wonder if it was really necessary. All the Orcs were down south where the fighting was and he had heard little more than wind all night. The plains of Rohan were empty, as if not only all the people, but the animals had fled as well.

The company had reached Helm's Deep the day before and found nothing but the aftermath of the terrible battle. Even then, almost a week later, they were still cleaning it up. The decision was then made to travel to Gondor where reinforcements would most likely be needed. In their long travelling, however, the company became anxious. Every one of them had gone out looking to aid their friends who were already in danger. They wanted a fight, but all they got was more travelling, more delays.

He slung his bow onto his back and began to circle the camp. The others, those who were awake, nodded to him as he passed. Then suddenly he froze - he'd heard something. As he listened, he recognized it as whimpering. He followed the sound to where Mélanyë was sleeping and crouched over her.

"No...ammë, please don't go..." She was curled up on her side clutching her book to her chest. He frowned and brushed damp hair from her face. She had not let Lindir's book out of her sight since she got it. She had been reading it non-stop, day and night, walking and sitting. He thought that if there had been a way she would even be reading it while she slept. A few days ago she had finished it and he noticed that she became very troubled and rarely spoke. At first he hadn't understood what was wrong, and then she told him. Her mother had died years ago and she never knew.

He reached out to shake her and she woke with a start, clutching the book tighter and backing away from him. It took her a moment to recognize where she was before she relaxed.

"Are you okay?" he asked. She nodded and he let out a relieved sigh. Ganya had told him about her dreams before they'd left, and also warned him about her nightmares. Most of the dreams she'd had since they'd left were about the past, things she had read in her book. He'd often heard her calling for Lindir in her sleep and he would wake her, fearing a reoccurrence of her earlier dreams of him. "You were dreaming of your mother." She nodded again.

"I understand why Lindir kept this from me," she said quietly. She said the words, but Cóume knew better. She didn't believe any of it.

"You're angry with him, aren't you?" She slowly shook her head, as if trying to convince herself.

"No, I'm not angry with him," she said as she lay down to sleep again. "I'm just angry." Cóume stayed with her until she fell back to sleep. He sighed, stood, and finished his rounds.

'Mélany

She saw that she was in a great emptiness and it seemed that the whole world was shrouded in mist and shadow. Before her she could just barely make out the figure of a person, although he too seemed to be made of the mist around her.

'Mélany

Her name came to her from the figure, but it was as if it called inside her head rather than aloud.

'Don't go, Mélanyë, turn back…'

"Who are you?" she cried, but the figure continued to speak as if it hadn't heard her.

'It's not safe any longer…you have to go now…before it's too late…'

"Why? What's going on?" The figure paused and slowly raised a hand. It pointed beside them as the mist formed a vision. It was an image of the lands around them, the same view of their path ahead that Ameron, their leader, had shown her the day before. The sun was shining and the plains were lush with grass and flowers. She turned to the figure that now stood behind her. "I don't understand," she said. The figure again pointed to the image before them. When she looked back, it was the same plains, the same way ahead, but this time the sun was not shining. It was cloudy, and in the distance she saw dark shapes. The image sped up and the shapes came closer until finally she could make out what they were.

"Wildmen," she whispered.

'Turn back…before it's too late…'

Mélanyë woke with a start. In a glance she saw that it was still night but that the slight glow of dawn was approaching from the east. She looked up at the stars shining above her and smiled at their beauty. Then slowly, her smile began to fade and fear replaced the happiness in her heart. Far above her, thin wisps of cloud began to cover the stars.

She stood immediately and looked south, towards Gondor. Panic gripped her heart as she saw what she'd already guessed - the entire southern horizon was covered in thick dark clouds. She turned and ran.

"Cóume! Cóume!" She ran through the camp, not caring who she disturbed. She finally found him talking with Ameron and grabbed hold of him as soon as she was near. "Cóume! I had another dream!" she cried. He looked worriedly towards Ameron and then knelt in front of her.

"It's okay, Mélanyë, tell me your dream," he said. Ameron stood behind him listening with mild interest.

"It's today!" she said, trying to get it all out at once. "We have to leave now! It was a warning - we're in danger!"

"From who?" asked Ameron.

"The Wildmen!" Mélanyë had been deathly afraid at the sight of them in her dream, but as she said it aloud she saw amusement, rather than alarm, on Ameron's face.

"Wildmen?" he scoffed. "Is that all? Even if there were Wildmen in this region we're more than a match for them in battle." Mélanyë shook her head.

"No," she said, "it doesn't make sense that I would be warned about them if we could beat them, don't you see? We have to go, that's what he said, we have to go now!"

"What who said?" he asked her. She quieted and looked down at her hands.

"I don't know." Ameron nodded.

"There, you see?" he said, presumably to Cóume, "We don't even know where this supposed 'warning' came from. I don't plan my battle strategies based on the fantasies of a little girl," he said. Mélanyë felt anger stir in her heart but Cóume put a hand on her shoulder.

"Although we may not know where they are coming from," he said, "The Lady Galadriel has suggested that they may be a gift of the Valar."

"Valar," said Ameron. "Since when did the Valar care about us? If they did they would come and do something about the Dark Lord rather than sitting idle in the Blessed Realm!" Mélanyë felt the hair on the back of her neck rise as she listened. In her mind she saw the face of Fëanor and heard his voice say similar words to the Noldor at Alquilondë. The vision quickly left her but the feeling it gave her remained.

"So our doom is wrought," she whispered. Neither of the other elves heard her, and she and Cóume watched as Ameron turned and left to plan the day's journey. Mélanyë let herself drop defeatedly onto the grass and bowed her head.

Cóume waited until Ameron was out of sight before sitting beside her. They were silent for a long time, and he put his arm around her in comfort. After several long minutes, he finally spoke.

"A few years ago," he said, "I was helping to repair the bridge that runs over the river near my realm. I was bringing a load of rocks up from the tunnels underground when I saw that one was different.

"Underground it had looked the same as all the others, but as it was brought outside into the sun I saw veins of blue and green fire just below the surface. I've since carved and polished it and it sits now displayed in my dwelling. The others come by often to marvel at its beauty, now that its color is clearly visible, but," he paused and tipped her chin up with his finger. "They would never have seen it had I not done so. What they, and Ameron, did not understand is that sometimes a thing's greatest worth is hidden just below the surface. All it needs is something to bring it out." He stood, placed a kiss on her cheek, and left her alone.

After he'd gone Mélanyë sat by herself for a long time absorbing the meaning of Cóume's words. After several minutes she raised her hand and softly caressed the place where Cóume had kissed her, a slow smile spreading across her lips.