The air in the courtyard smelt fresh and clean, like the white linens fluttering from the clothesline when Amil did her washing. Blinking in the early light, golden as honey, he shuffled small boot-clad feet on the grey flagstones. Clop-clop, clop-clop came the sound of a rider, closer and closer. He looked up just as a great white horse cantered into the courtyard, stopping before his Atar who stood proud and tall in the honey-gold light.
"Nolofinwë. You are early." Atar's mouth was smiling, but his eyes were not. He nodded at the rider on the horse.
So this was uncle Nolofinwë, whose name had been whispered about by Atar and Amil. Uncle swung off his horse and walked toward Atar, blue and silver robes billowing behind him.
"Brother! You look well today. As for my early coming, well, I was eager to see how you and yours are faring. My, how tall Maitmo has grown. And you, little Makalaurë, were but a babe the last time I came here." Uncle turned towards him and smiled. He wondered why no one noticed how tall he had grown. Why, he was almost as tall as his older brother Maitmo. Uncle kept on talking.
"I have brought a playmate for you two, while your Atar and I go off to the meeting."
He strode to his horse where a little boy still sat, dressed in the same blue and white as Uncle was wearing. Maybe he was Uncle Nolofinwë's little boy.
"My name is Findekáno Nolofinwion," the little boy said shyly.
"I'm Makalaurë," he replied, stumbling over the long word, "but everyone calls me Kano." He shuffled his small boots once more, wondering why Uncle had brought this boy to play with them. His brother was the best playmate in Valinor, as far as he was concerned. Twiddling a lock of dark hair between his fingers, he turned to his older brother, who was staring at the newcomer with eyes as big as saucers.
"Did you ride that big horse all the way here?" his brother asked. "Atar never lets me ride. He says I'm not big enough, but I'm taller than you." He marched over to the new boy - no, Findekáno.
"I'm Maitmo Curufinwion, but my little brother calls me Nelyo. Do you want to see my toy horse? Atar made it for me in his workshop. It can toss its head and walk by itself. Come on!" Nelyo grabbed Findekáno by the wrist and tugged him towards the house. Findekáno was smiling, and said something to him as they walked away together.
Left behind in the courtyard by his brother and cousin, he gazed forlornly at his toes. What was so special about Findekáno? Why did Nelyo go away without him? Why did he have to be left out? Because you're too little, Nelyo had said when they were playing in the garden one day. That's why I can climb this tree but you can't. Maybe when you're bigger, you'll understand.
He did not want to wait until he was bigger. Why, Nelyo was only two yéni older than him! That had never kept him from sticking by Nelyo's side, playing whatever Nelyo wanted to play, and always looking up to Nelyo as his hero. Maybe he would go find Nelyo and Findekáno and ask to play with them anyways. He began to trudge toward the house, when he heard a sound above him.
It was like gold and silver mixed together, sweeter than the honey cakes Amil made for his begetting day, softer than rose petals in the garden, but also a little sad, like the rain on the bare courtyard. Amil was on the balcony, and the beautiful sounds were floating around her and the harp before her. He turned and waved to her, a grin spreading across his cheeks.
Amil was beautiful, sitting there with her harp, which shone with silver and polished wood. Her hair glowed like fire in the light - like Nelyo's hair, but brighter and longer. He thought she looked like a Vala, slender fingers flying over the strings while music danced around her. Ducking inside the front door, he scampered up the steps and throught the hall until he was at Amil's side.
"Come here, Makalaurë," she said, lifting her hands from the harp. She opened her arms toward him and he nestled into her warm embrace. She smelled of flowers, and of spices, and golden honey. He peeked out from her arms and stared at the harp.
"C-can I try to play that? Um, if I'm not too little?" He wondered how Amil could make such beautiful sounds just by touching the strings. Maybe it was magic.
"Of course not, Kano. No one is ever too young to make music. Come, I will teach you." She gathered him onto her lap, guiding his trembling hands toward the harp. As his fingers found the strings, he forgot everything but the golden sound of music that washed over the balcony like the light from the Golden Tree. Here was something he could do on his own, without Nelyo saying he was too little. Let them play with their horses and toys - he had found something so much better.