‘I believe thou wilt return to thine own Middl-earth, Mélamírë because that is thy place.’ He had laced his long fingers together. ‘Everything connects. So he says, and at the moment, there is an imbalance there because of thine absence.’

‘If I was dead, there would be an absence,’ she pointed out.

‘But thine essence, thy spirit would still exist,’ he said. ‘Somewhere. Try to sleep, and not to worry. There is immense balance in the universe.’

So her father had always said.

Sleep.

Softly, Mélamírë surrendered to the gentle undertow, her limbs growing heavy, her mind drifting.

Náryen? The word whispered around the room.

The lone lamp flickered, and went out. ~

I forgot to say yesterday...this ending is perfect. It's so rhythmic, but at the same time uneasy - like a lullaby with a few notes out of place.

I actually did dream about a caravan travelling through a desert last night, but sadly Van wasn't there!

Author's Response: Oh, shame, lol :) It’s quite funny that it was ‘Music of the Waters’ and I set it in a sodding desert! Well, I did use some prompts, anyway :)
Thank you very much, Narya for all the comments on SWG and for commenting here too. Oh, btw, are you on Tumblr as Dawn Felagund recc’d your ‘Nocturne’ on there :)