1: Summons

“Melian.”

Melian looked up from her weaving and smiled at her great-great-grandson’s silver-haired wife. “Celebrían. What brings you here on this fine day?” Melian stood to embrace the elleth, daughter of her husband’s kinsman, Celeborn.

Celebrían laughed and stepped into Melian’s arms. “Why, I came to see my favorite daernaneth, of course,” she said, then stepped back, the light of mischief in her eyes. “And I brought a friend.” Celebrían moved to one side so Melian  could see who was entering behind her.

“Hello, my dear. You’re looking well.”

“Olórin!” Melian smiled with delighted surprise as the two Maiar embraced. “It’s been too long. What brings you to Tol Eressëa?”

Olórin smiled, his eyes twinkling. “Well, I had nothing better to do today and —“

Melian laughed, playfully hitting him on the arm. “The day you have nothing better to do is the day we all should start worrying. But come, sit, both of you, and tell me the news.”

Melian motioned the other two towards a bench along one side of the workshop where she and Olórin took a seat but Celebrían smiled and shook her head. “Actually, I am on my way to visit with friends. I merely met Mithrandir on the way, so I will leave you two to gossip without me.”

Olórin feigned shock at the elleth’s words. “Gossip! I’ll have you know, my dear, that I have never indulged in gossip.” He turned to Melian, who was fighting not to laugh. “These elflings show no respect for their elders, do they, my dear?”

Now it was Celebrían’s turn to feign indignation. “Elfling! Why I haven’t been an elfling in...in millenia!”

Now Melian was laughing. “Oh my darling, no matter how old you are, you will always be elflings to us.”

“Hmph. Well, this elfling has better things to do than stand here being insulted. When you’re finished gossiping,” Celebrían stuck her tongue out as Melian and Olórin laughed even harder, “you’ll want to join us for the evening meal, won’t you, Mithrandir?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, my dear Celebrían. I have yet to meet your own two elflings, an ellon and an elleth I understand.”

Celebrían smiled indulgently. “Yes. Elros and Esteliel. They just turned twenty.”

Olórin nodded. “Then I will be there, never fear.”

“And you will come, too, won’t you Daernaneth? The twins would love to see you again.”

Before Melian could answer, Olórin said, “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure Melian is there, but we cannot stay the night. We must sail with the midnight tide.”

Melian looked at her old friend in surprise and Celebrían’s eyebrows went up but she merely nodded. “Then we will see you both at eventide. Don’t be late.” And with that, she left the two Maiar to themselves.

“Olórin?” Melian asked.

“How have you been, Melian?” said the other Maia, forestalling any questions from her.

She gave her friend a wry look. “Fine, be that way.”

Olórin affected an innocent look that fooled no one. “And what way is that?”

Melian laughed and stood up. “Would you care for some tea? Or perhaps something stronger?”

“Tea would be fine.”

Melian nodded and went into a small kitchen area off the main room. She spent a few moments putting together the tea things before returning to her guest whom she found staring at her latest project, nearly completed.

“The tea will be ready soon. Meantime, tell me what truly brings you to Tol Eressëa.”

For a moment Olórin did not speak but continued examining the tapestry on the loom. It was a scene from Middle-earth showing the meeting of Finrod with Balan and his people.

“This is quite good.”

“Thank you. Now quit stalling.”

“Is that what I’m doing?” Olórin said with a smile.

“Olórin...”

“Hush now, muin nîn. I truly was planning to come for a visit when Manwë asked me to deliver to you a message from him.”

Melian looked at her friend in surprise. “Manwë!”

Olórin nodded, motioning towards the bench and the two Maiar sat down again. “Yes,” he said simply and then gave her a piercing look. “Manwë wishes to speak with you and asked me to escort you to Taniquetil.”

“Indeed. Escort me, you say? You mean, make sure I came even if you had to drag me all the way.”

Olórin frowned slightly. “I have never understood this antagonism between you and the Elder King, Melian, but Manwë seemed quite diffident about it all. It was almost as if....”

Melian started to say something but realized the tea water was ready.

“Ah, tea,” Olórin said brightly. “Just the thing.”

Melian sighed in exasperation but gave Olórin a wry grin as she stood up and went to make the tea. Shortly after she returned bearing a tray filled with the paraphernalia of tea making, which she set down on a small table, handing the other Maia a cup before sitting down herself.

“Manwë and I have had our differences, but I assure you I have no intention of disobeying a direct order from the Vicegerent of Arda under Ilúvatar. I just wondered at his choice of emissaries. Why didn’t Manwë simply summon me himself?”

“Perhaps because he respects you too much.”

Melian let out a short unladylike snort but made no other comment as she sipped her tea.

After a moment of companionable silence, Olórin said quietly, “Do you remember the first time we met, after your return from Doriath?”

Melian nodded. “I felt so lost and at loose ends, and not even Nienna or Estë could comfort me.”

“I know. I used to watch you wander through the woods, all in Silvan grey, like a ghost, lost and alone, full of unending grief. I wanted to comfort you but did not know how.” His eyes twinkled with bright ironic humor. “I was much younger then.”

Melian laughed out loud at that, nearly spilling her tea. She could always trust this Maia to bring the best out of her, however unwillingly.

“Yet comfort me you did,” she finally said once she had gotten herself under control. “And I will always be grateful for that.”

And she would, too. She remembered those first few centuries with Nienna and her maidens. She had spent much time in weeping and in mourning, for she had lost much — a beloved daughter, a spouse, a kingdom. She remembered wandering for hours through the woods of Lórien, drifting like a ghost, as Olórin had said. She might still be drifting if it hadn’t been for the Maia sitting companionably beside her sipping his tea. When, after five yéni, Mandos had still not released Elu to her, she had despaired that he ever would. It was Olórin who had comforted her and given her hope.

The release, shortly thereafter, of her grandson, Dior, and his wife, Nimloth, along with their twin sons, had helped somewhat to assuage her grief for a time, but when they had gone to live with their Teleri kin at Alqualondë at the request of Olwë, she had been left alone again. It would be well into the Second Age before Elu was released from Mandos and during that time of waiting it had been Olórin who had helped her in her loneliness and had offered her his friendship, a friendship she had treasured ever since.

“So, mellon nîn, what does Manwë want with me?” Melian asked after a while.

“Hmm. Well as to that, I have no idea.”

Melian gave Olórin a skeptical look.

“Truly, my dear, I have no idea. But when Manwë summoned me, he was not alone. Varda was with him, and Námo.” Melian’s eyebrows rose at that. “Yes,” Olórin nodded. “My thought exactly. I spoke only with Manwë, but they were all very solemn and yet, there was an undercurrent of excitement running between them as well.” He gave Melian a knowing look. “If they had been elflings,”—Melian giggled involuntarily at the thought —“I would have said that they were definitely up to something.”

“Well, in that case, I suppose I should go and see what they are up to.”

Olórin laughed lightly. “Indeed yes.” He took a sip of his tea and when he spoke again his tone was gentle. “Have you seen Elu lately?”

Melian smiled openly. “Oh yes. We saw one another at Vinyarië. He’s become very indispensable to Olwë, you know, acting as go-between with the Beleriandic elves living on Tol Eressëa with their Teleri kin. The Sindar and the Nandor still look to Elu as their king even though Elu himself has refused to take up the crown again, preferring to remain in Alqualondë as Olwë’s viceroy.”

“But you did not.”

Melian shook her head. “By that time I had had enough of courts and governing people. But I wished to remain close to my family, so I moved here to Imladris ’Wain.”

“Are you happy?”

“Oh yes, very. But come, enough about me. Let me warm up our tea and you can tell me what is happening in Valmar these days before we must leave for Celebrían’s. I want to hear all the gossip.”

Olórin just laughed as he handed her his teacup.

*****

Daernaneth: grandmother, on the assumption that, like humans, elves would forego tacking on multiple “greats” to the word and simply use “grandmother” for brevity’s sake.

Elleth/ellyth: female elf/elves.

Ellon/ellyn: male elf/elves.

Muin nîn: my dear.

Mellon nîn: my friend.

Vinyarië: New Year’s Day.

Imladris ’Wain: New Rivendell, an imaginary settlement on Tol Eressëa situated northwest of the central city of Kortirion, founded by Elrond and settled primarily by those elves and their families who originally came from Imladris with Elrond.