Noise Making by

Chapter 1

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Macalaurë loved his nephew, he really did but after three days with him he was ready for Curvo and his, sister-in-law Itisse to come back. Little Tyelpë, after a long day of chasing little woodland creatures, frolicking in the lake behind their manor, and tearing through the manor with Macalaurë close behind, had finally chosen to sit down in the music room. He currently had a much too big lute across his lap. In one hand he clutched his stuffed elephant, and the other struck the strings with all the grace of an elfling who was still learning to eat by himself. Macalaurë winced as Tyelpë’s hand struck it, discordant.

Macalaurë had tried to lure him away from the lute with the promise of sweets, but now he had an energetic toddler enthusiastically abusing his lute. Other attempts to take the lute away had resulted in tears, so he resigned to watching his nephew as though he was a musician at concert.

Twang! Tyelpë gave a delighted giggle and looked to Macalaurë. Macalaurë caught himself mid-wince and give him an encouraging smile. Time to try a different approach.

‘Tyelpë, how would like to learn a song?’ He asked, walking over to sit next to him.

‘A new one?’ Tyelpë asked, hopeful.

‘Yes, a new one. What do you think?’

‘Can it be about Mista?’ he asked, nuzzling his stuffed elephant.

‘Of course, it can!’ Macalaurë said. ‘Tell me about Mista's new adventures.’

‘Well… he went to touch the stars!’ Tyelpë said. ‘He flew up and up to hold them.’

‘Isn’t that adventurous!’ He leaned in and whispered conspiratorially. ‘More adventurous than Uncle Tyelko.’

‘Maybe Mista can teach him when he comes back.’ he said. ‘Now the song! the song!’

‘Yes, yes. Can I have the lute?’ Macalaurë held out his hand.

‘No, I want to play it!’ Tyelpë said, pulling it closer to him.

‘Very well.’ Macalaurë sighed. ‘Will you let me teach you play it in tune to the song?’

Tyelpë nodded. Macalaurë showed him to how to do a single strum, which went surprisingly well.

‘Well done, Tyelpë.’ Macalaurë beamed. ‘Now, you strum it as I taught you for every line, okay?’

Tyelpë nodded and Macalaurë picked up a silly tune.  

Mista was an elephant
So red and bold.
Always wanted to hold,
the stars, twinkling and elegant.
So he brewed a tonic to drink,
His ears as wings, they grew.
Up, up and up, he flew,
To touch a star with his trunk.

‘Again!’ Tyelpë chortled. ‘Again!’

Macalaurë sang it again, and this time Tyelpë sang with him, fumbling over some of the words. He insisted on singing it again, and by the fifth time he stopped fumbling over the words. By the eighth time, he had abandoned the lute and was spinning around the room with Mista.

Over the next few weeks, Macalaurë heard snatches of the song around the manor usually followed by a frustrated sigh or mild cursing. Tyelpë had sung it loudly and often around whoever cared for him and the tune had wormed its way into everyone’s head, never to leave. As family, the Fëanorians decided that Macalaurë was no longer allowed to compose silly ditties for children, for the sake everybody’s sanity.