Dance
It almost seemed that she danced before she walked. Giggling, she would twirl around before reaching up to him. "Dance with me, Ada, please?"
He could never say no to his daughter, and so they would spin around beneath the trees and silver stars of Varda. She would laugh and shriek as he tossed her high in the air, and her long dark hair would seem for a moment like the dark wings of a nightingale.
"What a beautiful child," the other Elves said. "Already the most beautiful of all the Eldar!"
Melian watched them dance with a secret smile.
Magic
"Naneth, what is magic?" Wide eyes of silver grey squinted as Lúthien wrinkled her nose in thought.
"Where did you hear of magic, my daughter?"
"The Naugrim, Naneth. They were speaking of you and your magic."
The Maia Queen laughed gently and lifted her daughter to her lap. "The Naugrim speak of what they do not understand," she said. "What they see as strange and magical is but part of the nature given me by Ilúvatar before the beginning of Time and music."
Lúthien nodded slowly, then asked brightly, "Will you tell me of the music that woke the world?"
Mist
She stood in the shadows and listened as Thingol and Melian spoke quietly and worriedly of Círdan's defeat in the West, his people all but driven into the Sea. "We will not have victory in open battle," Thingol said.
"Send for all who will come to dwell here," Melian said, "and I will gird our kingdom with mists and shadows impenetrable."
"So it will be."
And Lúthien watched as Menegroth swelled as her mother's power encircled them, silver mists disguising paths and weaving a perilous maze no enemy could ever navigate, lest he be more powerful than Melian the Maia.