Trinkets by Independence1776

| | |

Music

Written for grey_gazania's prompt: "Maglor, Indis, and music." Ficlet. Rated General.


Indis leaned back into her plush velvet seat and listened to the concert hall grow quiet. Once silence reigned, Makalaurë put his hands to his harp and began playing the song Finwë had commissioned for her begetting day. She closed her eyes and let the music sweep over her. It sounded like racing barefoot on the rustling grass, leaping over a babbling mountain brook, playing a happy song on her own harp. And the shifts between her favorite Vanyarin style and a Noldorin style she’d come to treasure worked, far better than many would have thought possible.

When the song finished, Indis opened her eyes as the echoes faded. She met Makalaurë’s eyes and he relaxed minutely when she grinned in sheer joy. That, right there, made him one of the best musicians she’d heard-- he cared not only to please his grandfather, but the one whom the song was truly intended for.


Table of Contents | Leave a Comment