F.A. 67
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The gardens within Menegroth were always a place of peace and serenity; a reminder of the shadowed but beautiful forests of Nan Elmoth so long ago where she first beheld her husband. Queen Melian remembered watching her daughter laugh and sing beneath the trees that grew here when winter put the trees of the woods surrounding Menegroth to sleep. Memories swelled and settled within her mind as she passed under leaf and bow, fingers trailing through the petals of flowers... and noting that there were fewer her now than there were not three days ago.
She paused and wondered. Perhaps fair Lúthien had passed through? Or a gardener that regularly tended to these blooms in her stead? Was there aught amiss with her garden? Surely not or she wou!d have sensed it the moment she entered this place. Even before that.
She trod deeper into the garden, picking up in another presence within; one she was unfamiliar with. She came at last to a place where tiny lamps of hanging crystals hung from above like stars illuminating the small glade below. Sitting in the middle of it was a small, long-limbed even child with eyes the color of fresh spring leaves and hair the color of night. In her small hands was a small, barely started chain of flowers. To her right, on the ground, was a doll made from carved wood and rough woven cloth, stuffed with scraps of wood shavings; clearly a result of Nandorin craft.
The elleth paused, sesnsing someone else there, and looked up at the Queen, green eyes unwavering and inquisitive. The child remained curiously silent until she managed to come to some sort of conclusion, at which point she looked down to her unfinished project in her lap, cheeks taking on a rosy hue. Melian smiled kindly and crew nearer, kneeling gracefully down by the small elleth's side.
"Good day, little one. You need have no fear of me."
The child merely nodded and resumed her work, tiny fingers deftly weaving the stems of many blooms together with surprising ease. The repetitive motions seemed to bring back a measure of ease and calm as Melian settled into place beside her, observing with a keen interest.
"What is your name, small one?"
Silence filled the air again as the child seemed to pause and visibly struggle with something. Quickly, the Queen rested a hand upon the elleth's head making soothing sounds as she trailed long fingers that night black hair. But even as her brows furrowed in concern, the child opened her mouth to speak, her voice quiet like a whisper but clear like morning dew upon leaves.
"Emel said that I am Dineloth now."
The name told the Queen all she needed to know in an instant. Months past, a Nandorin elleth came to the edge of the barrier she had cast about her husband's realm begging for entrance for the safety of her child. Her pleas were answered and the truth became known: that the child was born of a union with one of the followers of a son of Fëanor. A kinslayer. The entire realm was still reeling from the ugly truth; the reason behind the return of the Noldor to Beleriand being even too much for her husband the King to stomach or tolerate. The elleth, Gladil, had her wish granted and knew not of the whereabouts of her ill-fated, kinslayer husband, only that she sent him away from the place they had been raising their daughter in as soon as the truth of his misdeeds had been made known.
Melian had seen little of this child ever since and word had reached her ears that Gladil shielded her daughter from the overly-inquisitive and that others counted the little one as much too quiet. She played little with other children and often took to finding a secluded area to be about her childish business in. But it was also said that Dineloth enjoyed hearing tales and jokes and was kind to others. The Queen could admit to feeling no small amount of concern. Dineloth was in a rather complicated position within her realm through no fault of her own. Given her husband's disdain for the sons of Fëanor and the wariness of her subjects regarding the Noldor-...
Looking at Dineloth now, Melian felt both a sense of impending sorrow that was tempered with joy and even peace. Yes, the road ahead of this child was sure to be difficult. And it was out of her hands, though powerful she might be.
Her musings and thoughts were interrupted when she felt a small tug upon her sleeve. She looked down to see that Dineloth was presenting her with a completed garland of woven flowers.
"Is this for me, Dineloth?"
The elleth nodded and held the garland out to the Queen more insistently until it was taken. Melian glanced over the completed project with a smile and found herself impressed. Though a mere child had crafted this, the use of blooms of certain colors and leaves of varying but similar shapes and sizes made for a remarkably and aesthetically pleasing and even moving (if she was correct in guessing that the child had learned something of the meanings of certain flowers) display.
"...This is very well done, child," remarked Melian , who received a bright smile in return. Much to her relief, it was clear that Dineloth knew how to smile still. "...Do you know that Enderi begins in one cycle of the Moon?"
Dineloth silently nodded.
"I think the celebration would be made much merrier if others could enjoy the beautiful works of your hands. What do you think? "
The tiny elleth took a moment to consider, features scrunching up in genuine concentration. The Queen was the one to remain silent this time, giving her the space and time she needed to make a response. Seconds turned into minutes until at last an answer was given in that same quiet voice.
"Yes."
...
And so it came to pass, for hundreds of years, festivals and celebrations within Doriath were marked by the sweet scent of Nautiel's (though she was called Dineloth then) garlands of flowers.
