For the last few months, Lúthien had been disappearing early in the morning, not returning until late into the night. Some nights, Daeron had heard, she did not even return home at all. Only once, Daeron had happened to encounter her as she returned home late in the evening, but she would not say where she had been, only that she had been out in the woods. "The woods are so lovely this summer, Daeron," she had told him, but then she had slipped away. Daeron had not managed to speak with her again.

It was clear something was wrong, and Daeron was getting worried. Worried enough to do something drastic. So now he found himself before the door to Melian's chambers.

It was silly, he told himself, that he found Melian so frightening. She was his queen, the Maia wife of King Eru Thingol. Besides, how could the one who had bore Lúthien be anything but good. She was even very much like Lúthien in appearance. She had the same dainty nose, the same broad, heart-shaped face, the same thick, dark hair. But little things were off about her, Daeron thought, subtle reminders that her body was only an imitation of elves, not truly elven. The way her neck was just a little too flexible for example, or the way her fingers were just a little too long. But it was her eyes that Daeron found especially unsettling, too large, too dark, and far, far too deep. They made him feel like a frightened child again, lost and alone under the dark trees.

He took a deep breath, and knocked.

Melian opened the door silently and stood within the doorway. She stared at him curiously and cocked her head "Daeron!" she chirped, "This is unusual. You do not often visit me. Have you come to sing a song perhaps? You have such a lovely voice."

"I, well, no," he stammered, "I mean, I could, if you like, but that's not why I came."

"Oh," Melian said. Her head stayed turned to the side, and she continued to look questioningly at Daeron.

Daeron froze uncertainly, wondering if he should sing something. He decided against it. "I came because I am worried about Lúthien," he told Melian. "She has been acting very strangely, going out all day and long into the night, and no one I have spoken to knows why. I'm worried that she is in danger."

"You should not worry. She is in no danger," Melian said softly. Daeron began to relax a little, but then she continued, "Doom has fallen on her, but she is in no danger."

"Doom? What doom?"

"The same doom we all face: the doom of change," Melian explained sadly. "There is nothing quite as tragic as change," she said. A thoughtful look crossed her face. "Except, perhaps a lack of it. This world is strange like that."

Daeron was getting quite frustrated now. Something was wrong with Lúthien, and her mother was just standing in the doorway spouting cryptic riddles. "Would you at least tell me where she is?"

"She is not a child anymore, she does not need constant watching from her mother."

"Please, you must have some idea where she is," Daeron replied.

Melian leaned in closer and examined Daeron curiously. "You are worried," she observed. "Daeron, there is no reason to worry about something you cannot prevent. You cannot prevent this. Do not be worried."

"How can I not be worried when Lúthien is in danger?"

"She is in no danger," Melian reminded him.

Daeron did not see how someone could be doomed but in no danger, but he knew any explanation from Melian would be equally contradictory. He decided to switch tactics. "I would still feel better if I knew where she was," he told her.

"I am not so sure of that," Melian told him. "Although, surely you know your own mind better than I do. I hate to see you so worried. If you think it will make you feel better, I will help you to look." She stood aside and motioned for Daeron to enter.

Melian lead Daeron down a hallway into a large room with a wide, open window overlooking the trees. A shallow pool of white marble stood at the center. Many birds were bathing in it, but with a gesture from Melian they all flew away. She motioned for Daeron to sit beside the pool, which was now strangely still despite the large flock that had left it only moments before. She stood behind him and placed a long, white hand on the top of his head.

"Focus on what you wish to see, and look into the pool," she commanded. "Do not touch the water."

"I want to see what has happened to Lúthien," Daeron thought, and he looked into the pool.

Rather alarmingly, the water seemed to grow dark. Then stars appeared within it. One was unfamiliar and brighter than all the rest. Then the scene changed, and he was was looking at a range of snow-capped mountains. Then, finally, he saw Lúthien. She was lying in the grass beside a small stream and laughing. White blossoms of niphredil framed her dark hair. A shadow ran across her, as though something had passed beside her just out of view.

"I know that stream!" Daeron cried. "It begins among the hemlock to the east, and from there runs to the Sirion." He lept to his feet. "Thank you, Lady! I know where to find her now." He raced out of the room.

"She is in no danger!" Melian called out to him, but he was already gone. "At least," she sighed, "not yet."