Inspiration from surprising sources by Aprilertuile

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Inspiration from surprising sources

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Makalaurë was in the living-room of his parents’ house with a notebook in his hand. The young elf was looking for inspiration.

Since he was an adult, and considered a master in his own right in the field of music, in order to not have to relinquish his title of master, to not be forgotten on the wayside, he had to perform regularly and put out there new pieces every so often, as all artists did.

And so he was working on a new piece to play at the next celebration in Tirion, but it was difficult to find inspiration in a world that never changed.

He had the tip of his pen in his mouth, thinking... And finding all his ideas to be absolutely terrible and overdone:

• Love stories were so overdone it was downright boring and predictable.
• Adventures, WHAT ADVENTURES?! In Aman most people never got out to explore and any “adventure” was a simple crafting or trade journey.
• The Great Journey... Has been done backward, forward and sideway by musicians, painters, sculptors, artists of all kind.
• If he had to listen to one more ode to the two trees he was going to have to put something on fire!

Yes, there was a sense of mastery to show something so overdone and boring in a new interesting light but the point was hopefully NOT to be bored by his own subject and songs.

In theory at least.

There was a sudden crash in a nearby room and the sound of an argument, and a door crashing open and footsteps in the corridor...

And it’s a near tears Tyelkormo that entered the room, a sheepish little Curufinwë on his heels.

“What happened?” Makalaurë asked.

In the absence of inspiration he could at least act as a responsible adult before his impulsive little brother did something regrettable like trying to stash Curufinwë into the rubbish bin in revenge or something of the sort.

“The new bow I made, the one I’ve been working on for a month, remember?” Tyelkormo said.

Makalaurë nodded. And oh, he had an idea of where that was going. He’s had an experience already with Curufinwë dismantling one of his smallest harps not that long ago. At least it was one he used as a student, and never since for the quality hadn’t been all that great but...

“I said I’m sorry! I just wanted to see how it worked! And. And it must not have been so great if it broke just like that anyway!”

“Curvo! As I recall you were already warned about the fact that apologizing must not contain your pretty much unnecessary and unwanted opinion on whatever you’re apologizing about. You were also already warned, several times about not trying to temper with things that don’t belong to you.” Makalaurë pointed out.

“But it’s Tyelko’s. He’s my brother, it’s practically the same.”

“Yeah? Alright, then let’s make things perfectly equal then, I’ll break your new lenses and see how you like it!” Tyelkormo snarled.

“YOU CAN’T DO THAT!” Curufinwë shrieked suddenly, face reddening in anger.

“Yeah? Watch me, you little pest!”

Curufinwë’s cries were loud enough that Nerdanel came in a hurry:

“What is happening here?!” She called entering the room, finding Makalaurë massaging his temples, Tyelkormo seething and Curufinwë having a temper tantrum.

“Curvo broke Tyelko’s new bow, the one he had been working on recently, and instead of apologizing properly, he said that the bow must not have been that good anyway and when I pointed out your rules about not experimenting on things that don’t belong to you, Curvo stated that as it belonged to Tyelko it was much the same. To which of course Tyelko told Curvo he was going to break one of his tools, see how Curvo likes it and apparently Curvo does NOT like it.” Makalaurë summarized.

His brother’s howls were actually hurting his ears, quite the feat there.

“Very well, Tyelkormo, you know the rules, you don’t get to threaten your little brothers, no matter how aggravating they can be. For that you’ll spend the day tomorrow helping Maitimo in the library. Curufinwë, you also know the rule. It’s not the first time you were warned, you can consider the forge off limit for at least a week.”

“But...”

“And if you protest it’ll be a month.”

Curufinwë started sobbing at that but Nerdanel looked pretty unimpressed at the display.

“If I tell your father that you ruined your brother’s work and acted as if it was your right instead of a mistake afterward, you know he’ll keep you out of the forge for a month straight away. So keep that up and I will let your father deal with you.”

Curufinwë stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

“Tyelko, do you have what you need to make a new bow?”

“No. I’ll need to go back to Yavana’s pasture. That was the last branch dad had after his experiments and. It’ll take months to treat the wood properly.” Tyelkormo said, looking ready to burst again into tears of frustrations.

“Well, Makalaurë will go with you, alright? Just wait until the solstice is passed, it’s only in a few days...”

“Five days, very exactly, at Telperion’s first hour. Not that I’m counting.” Makalaurë answered.

“Can’t I go now? I know Makalaurë needs to be here, but. But I don’t, and I hate the court anyway. Half of them keep saying I’m not dad’s son. And I can promise to be careful, it’s not like anything ever happens in Valinor, and I’ll be an adult in two years! Five days to wait is five days I’ll waste on making the bow anew.”

Nerdanel sighed at that.

“Admittedly Nelyo was living with Rúmil half the year when he was Tyelko’s current age and travelling alone to join us wherever we were travelling to when it was time for him to come back to us. And I was travelling alone to Alqualondë and back the same way at Tyelko’s age.” Makalaurë pointed out.

“Oh very well. BUT you still have to spend tomorrow helping Nelyo around the library. You can prepare what you’ll need to travel alone in the meantime.”

Tyelkormo impulsively hugged his mother, before running back to his room...

Makalaurë seemed to be deep in thought a moment, head moving as if to a music only he could hear.

“Is it too much to ask for a peaceful day?” She asked him after a moment of observing him in silence.

“I think so. Bright side of things, I know what piece I’ll present now. I’ll call it brother troubles.”

She snorted in amusement at that, and seeing that he was indeed absorbed in taking notes in his notebook, ideas for lyrics and tone of music, she left him to it and went to warn Maitimo of the upcoming temporary help he’d have the next day.

“I thought the screams had a Tyelko and Curvo shape, yes.” Was the only answer she received.

And then she went to warn her husband to not take or let Curufinwë in the forge for the next week.

“Dare I ask?”

“Please, don’t.” She said tiredly.

“Alright then. Nerdanel, look, I think I found out how to make this fly!”

She sighed: fly. Fëanáro wanted to fly now. Misery...