The last song

She opened her eyes with a contained sigh and her heart playing a war hymn. Irmo had visited her in dreams. Was it a warning? An advert? Or maybe a simple nightmare.

In the distance, she could hear the rising water trickling between the rocks, and the morning songs of the elves. She felt the warmth of the covers on her, but she was cold. She felt empty, lonely, lost between visions and reality.

she rolled over to the other side of the bed and found it empty. She stroked the space between the sheets, hoping that emptiness was never real.

She got up and put on a simple, light, shiny dress. Walked through the stone corridors to the exit to the forest.

She did not notice the elves bowing their heads as she passed; the songs were lost in the distance and her skin could not distinguish the cold wind that swept through the rooms.

As she left, she walked through the trees and a tear slid down his face. That was how her dream had begun. Everything was white, shiny, the pine trees were covered with snow, just like the ground that lit up like a pearl.

She searched from one side to the other. Snow, sweet neat snow, that out of nowhere began to be stained with scarlet blood. But the blood wasnt there. Just whiteness dusted like sugar. She heard footsteps behind her and turned ready for whatever came.

And there he was, her elf, her king, with his head held high, proudly wearing the crown over his sunflower hair, with a red cape over his black robe, holding the hilt of the sword that hung from his belt, set in jewels forged by the dwarves, like the rings that glittered on his fingers, the gold buttons, and the brooch on his lapel.

- Melian. - Thingol approached her with a big smile. She hadn't seen him smile like that in a long time. After Luthien was gone, the King's happiness seemed dependent on the jewels the dwarves made in the deepest caves of Menegroth. All day he was hanging around, checking that his necklace to wear the silmaril was finally ready. But today he had forgotten and had finally returned to the woods.

He took her hands in his. Melian felt the warmth of the King and came fully back to reality. The touch of his hands always made her feel alive, real. It reminded her why she had completely left Valinor, why she had kept that form and given all of it to this elf and those lands.

-Melian, it's snowing. - He kissed her knuckles with butter lips. - My queen, I have walked with you in the spring of these forests for centuries. Would you grant me a walk long as winter and pure as snow, where I can meet my lips with your song?

Melian felt the color rise to her cheeks. - You haven't talked like that in a long time. What happened to you this morning?

-Nothing. The cold reminds me of the times when we had no sun.- Thingol unbuttoned his cloak and put it around her shoulders. - It makes me remember how cold I was before the distant murmur of your song filled me with heat that dark day in the forest. You remember it, right?

- Of course I remember. - she turned towards the depth of the forest trying to hide her smile.

Thingol lifted her face by putting a finger on her chin. He admired with devotion the rosy color of her cheeks, her lush lashes, the pine green eyes, and the rosy lips that beckoned him to kiss them.

- Melian, my queen, tell me that I will always have your song. Tell me that it will always guide my way between the darkness, the light, the spring flowers or the cold winter snow.

Melian lost herself for a moment in the depths of her king's eyes and felt herself once again within the realms of Irmo, but this time, in a dream filled with light and joy. She remembered the first time she had seen those eyes, in those dark days of Middle-earth, days when his gaze had been all the light she needed. - Even if the moon dies and the sun goes out, even if the birds fall into sadness and stop singing or the wind stops howling, my song will always be your guide in the dark.

Melian only saw Thingol's smile for a second before she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. The meeting made her feel like summer discovering flowers, autumn changing colors or winter whispering ballads of love in her ear.

Thingol raised his face and made out something on the branch swinging above them. - Look, what a coincidence. It's mistletoe. - He squeezed her hands between his and started to kiss her again, when he heard footsteps approaching.

- My lord ... My lady. The elf bowed slightly, but was breathing hard, as if he had trotted all over Doriath. -The dwarves ... They say the job is ready. You can go see it right now.

Melian felt the heat leave her as Thingol's fingers slipped away from hers.

-Meleth nin, I'm coming back now. You are going to love this, I promise, you have never seen jewel like the one I have commissioned. And with embedded silmaril! You will be able to use it and you will shine more than ever. Then we will walk to the limits of the forest and I will find myself again in your songs. Thingol rushed into the caverns, leaving Melian alone in the snowy forest.

Like a blow the vision returned. Blood desecratinge the pure snow. It was only a second and it disappeared again. Melian was left admiring the winter, with a deep smile, thinking of all that she and her king said to each other. She wrapped the cloak around her and held it against her shoulders, longing for her king's embrace.

She reached to the mistletoe on top of her, and as her fingers touched the leaves, little red berries sprouted. She walked through the snow, under the protection of the old trees of Doriath, those who have seen her arrival and the birth of her love.

She crouched at the foot of a log and cleared the snow until she found the dirt. A nightingale perched on a branch near her and began to sing. Melian found the bud of a pair of red winter flowers. she touched one, and it opened, spreading its large petals toward the snow. She touched the second, and it took time to open, as if the unfolding of its petals caused pain. The nightingale began to squawk in despair, and Melian was once again invaded by the vision. Snow. Blood.

The petals finally opened and the flower dried instantly. A thick, dark liquid with an unpleasant odor dripped from the center. When she saw it on the snow, she could see that it was a deep red.

She thought she heard a scream coming from within the caves. It was not a cry of pain, it was a cry of war. A commander preparing weapons inside his own home.

She pulled up the skirt of her dress and tried to run back. she hadn't realized how tall and thick the snow was, least of how she sank into it with every step she tried to take.

When she arrived inside the palace, the elves were running with their weapons drawn down the stairs, towards the deepest caves of Menegroth.

- What's the matter? Where is Thingol? - The commander of the guard was petrified when he saw her without knowing what to say. But it was not necessary for him to speak, she could read in his eyes everything she needed. Avarice. Blood. Death. Treason.

- My ... my lady ... We never thought that the dwarves ... everything happened in a second, I was there, with the king. I distracted myself for a second admiring the jewels and... - He distinguished how the colors and beauty in her faded like a rose burned by the fierce sun. The light left her face and her eyes seemed darker than the world's first nights.

- Close the doors. None of those dwarves will make it out of here alive.