Disclaimer: The plot, parodies, and a few OC's are mine. All canon characters and settings belong to J.R.R. Tolkien, and every parodied song belongs to the artist and their record company.
Prologue: Halls of Judgement, Ilmarin, Taniquetil, Valinor
"Alassë! We have come to record your statement for the council of the Aratar. Speak carefully, for this will decide your doom."
Silence met this auspicious statement. The messenger, Eönwë, herald of Manwë, spoke again, allowing irritation to color his voice.
"Alassë! This is your only opportunity to plead your case. Come, tell us. How did it begin?"
The cell remained empty save for the tall Eönwë and a slight brunette Maia woman whose arms bulged with parchment, an inkpot, and a large eagle quill pen. A patch of air near the far wall shimmered faintly, and a cough sounded.
"It began with the Ainulindalë, the Great Music," announced a dry, male voice from the shimmering air. "We, the Ainur, all gathered together under Illúvatar. We sang throughout our fair regions until our music filled the emptiness and the Void. We sang through the discords of Melkor and the resolution of the Music by Illúvatar."
"My lord?" whispered the Maia to Eönwë. "Do I copy this?"
The fair herald waved a single hand dismissively. "All of this is written already, Alassë. We do not need the history of the World. It has been told better and by others. An accounting of your own deeds will suffice."
The voice continued as if it had not heard, "And when the Music ceased, we beheld the wonders our Music had created. The colors and light, the oceans and winds, the stones and metals and jewels – Arda, the Earth. On that day, many of the Ainur chose to reside within this new world. I was among them. The Valar and Maiar, as we were afterwards called, could cloak themselves in whatever semblance they desired and pass unseen among lesser spirits and beings.
"Elsewhere, it is recorded of the labors of the Valar in fashioning the Earth, of the coming forth of Elves and Men, and of the great struggles against Melkor – sorry, Morgoth," the voice added as the Maia woman flinched visibly. "Forgive me, my dear. I'm not very good with change. Anyway, this is not that story.
"This is the tale of a Maia who tired of overseeing the world and decided to meddle instead. A Maia who longed to hear again the Music of the Ainur and thought it sad for mortals that they should have such little music of their own. How much more joy would there be if the Children of Illúvatar – and all other races in Arda – could sing just as easily as speaking! And so I set forth to spread music and merriment."
Eönwë groaned aloud at this. "That is your reasoning? That is your justification for all the trouble you have caused? Laurë, start writing now."
"Yes, my lord." The Maia woman opened up her travel stool. Settling onto the rickety wooden seat, she spread a piece of parchment open on her lap. "I am ready."
"Ahem." The voice sounded irritated at being interrupted. "If you will please pay attention, I am Alassë of the Maiar, and here follows the tale of my meddling..."
A/N: Thanks for taking the time to read this story. Feedback and reviews are always appreciated. Next chapter, the singing takes off, and Lorde Denethor gets in touch with his royal nature. Also, I am currently looking for a new title for this story. Any suggestions?