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Mellondu's sleep was uninterrupted, but it was visited: very briefly visited, by two visitors.
One was his sister. She smiled at him, and embraced him, laughing. He jested briefly with her; she teased him a little, and then peace descended again, but it was a happier peace and a deeper rest than before. He was content.
Mostly content.
Far away, miles and miles... beyond the White Mountains, he heard the dim echo of a silver voice. In his dreams he turned toward it. The song, lilting and wandering, wafted in and out of his hearing. His heart ached. He tried to ignore it, to shrug it off and push it aside, and return to the peace of his sister's company.
It echoed still, dim and far-off. Almost he could ignore it. But not quite.
*****
"Mother."
"Yes, dear."
"If I were to... to leave my mistress and master, and..."
"Hmmm?"
"Well, and go away with someone else--"
The silence was suddenly loud and echoing. Her mother sent a piercing glance her way, and then the hint of a smile tugged at the corner of her old eyes.
Her father spoke. "The redhead or the ranger? Not that scruffy boy."
"Gracious, no!" protested Mellonin.
"Ranger, " nodded mother, and turned to her sewing again. Her father stared into the fire. Mellonin saw their eyes twinkling and said no more.
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