AN: Well, it's pretty much on time, no? A bit different then the others, this chapter takes place a long, long time ago. If you don't know some of what I'm talking about in this chapter (Beleriand, Ulmo, Valinor, etc.) you might want to check out The Encyclopedia of Arda. It's a super cool website that has been very useful in writing this story!
Soul: Sometimes roughness is necessary, and it could've been worse.
Cassie-bear01: Glad you're enjoying the story!
Ryoki: No talking violin, but there's still violin stuff coming up.
just2spooky: You're welcome, enjoy this new chapter!
Disclaimer: I own Maeglin. Joy. All else doesn't belong to me.
Enjoy...
"English talking"
'thinking'
~Galadriel mind-speaking~
*Elvish talking*
In the days of old, when the Teleri dwelt on the banks of Gelion and before Ulmo returned to Beleriand to take them to Valinor, there lived an elf by the name of Maeglin. An artist and a fine crafter of wood, Maeglin resided in Ossiriand and waited to travel to Valinor. Neither old nor young, this elf was a solitary being, living among the trees with only the birds for company.
Day after day, Maeglin listened to the birds sing as he whittled his fine carvings. Inspired by their song, he attempted to mimic their music; he discovered how to put holes in a hollow tube of wood and how to blow upon the end to make sounds. At first the sounds were harsh to his sensitive years, but slowly the tube was edited until Maeglin could create musical notes.
Excited by his achievement and desiring to spread his good fortune, Maeglin left his forest for the nearby elven settlement. Maeglin spent many years among these elves and others, crafting his instruments for any who wished them and listening to the music the elves played upon them. Not a musician himself, the elf delighted in hearing the beautiful birdsong coming from his creations. But Maeglin began to miss his old home, the music no replacement for the lovely song of the forest. Eventually he left and returned to the trees, and once again began to whittle.
Gradually, a desire rose within Maeglin to build another instrument. More complex than his pipe, this new instrument would have a finer tone and wider variety of notes. He began to experiment; big holes and little holes, rounded corners and sharp corners, all different body shapes and sizes. Years passed, and Maeglin's desire became an obsession; he no longer created little figurines, every moment was spent on his creation. Yet still, he had no success.
Frustrated by his apparent failure to create this instrument, Maeglin grabbed his bow and arrows and went on a patrol of the forest. Wandering among the trees, Maeglin found nothing on which to unleash his temper. His anger growing, Maeglin spotted a fruit tree with a luscious apple towards the top. Unable to reach it, Maeglin decided to vent a little and notched an arrow. Intending to cut the stem so the apple would drop, Maeglin released the arrow and as he heard the twang of the bow it all became clear. Maeglin caught the apple as it fell and set off towards his home, knowing exactly how to truly begin his instrument.
More years passed, Maeglin worked with various strings and ropes, various boxes and containers, perfecting his creation. Instead of blowing upon a hole, a string could be plucked to create a sound; gradually more strings were added and the body was altered until it produced the best sound. Continually driven by his need to build what he new would be his most magnificent creation, Maeglin's life revolved around his instrument, every moment devoted to his work.
And then one day he sat back and looked at the thing sitting before him, and Maeglin knew he had done it. Every method had been tested and retested, and this was the perfect design. Once more the elf went out into the forest, but this time he wandered looking for the perfect wood from which to craft his perfect instrument. Deep within the woods, his materials were gathered and Maeglin was ready to build his final project.
He went home and there he built an instrument never before and never again made in Middle-Earth. It was a divine piece of work, like nothing he had ever done before. When finished its sound was so pure and its decorations so intricate that Maeglin knew he would never find anything so beautiful.
Not long after its completion, Ulmo returned to Beleriand and Maeglin knew it was time to travel east. But he was faced with a terrible decision; he greatly desired to bring his work of art with him, but something deep inside him told him to leave it behind. He debated with himself to no end, trying to defy his instinct, but in the end something greater than he prevailed. Before the elf could sail over the Great Sea, he had one more task. So Maeglin traveled west and went deep into the forests, and there among trees old and great, beyond towering mountains and swift rivers, Maeglin hid his magnificent creation.
It was an instrument built for a single purpose: to save the world of men.