For Mariposa (who wanted Pippin and music):

MAKING TIME FOR MUSIC

Legolas came around the mallorn to the edge of the stream, where Pippin sat with his legs drawn up, arms around them. The young hobbit had his head on his knees and a wistful, faraway look in his green eyes. He sighed.

“Is there something wrong, mellon nin?” asked the Elf.

“Not really.” He was quiet for a second, and Legolas waited. He had come to learn the difference between Pippin’s usual cheerful prattle, and these thoughtful moods. When the little one had something to say of import, he tended to gather his thoughts slowly and carefully.

Finally Pippin spoke again, tilting his head upward. “It’s the music.”

Legolas looked at him quizzically.

“It’s ever so nice,” he murmured.

The sounds of Elven harps and flutes floated down from the trees; there was always music in Lórien, if not singing, then instruments. The Elf nodded. “Yes, it is nice. So what troubles you?”

“You see, singing’s all very well. But I miss *playing* music. I had to come away without any instrument, and I couldn’t very well carry any of them on this journey anyway.”

Legolas raised a brow. “Ah,” he said. It did not surprise him to learn that the young Took played musical instruments. He had noticed what a lovely light voice the lad had, and how he quickly picked up any tune and words--even words he did not understand. Pippin could already sing a number of songs in Sindarin, without a clue as to what they meant. It was the sound of them he loved. “What instruments do you play?”

“Well, my favorite is the fiddle. Aunt Esme--Merry’s mother--taught me that. And my Auntie Peridot taught me the lap harp. And Cousin Ferdinand taught me the Tookland pipes--what Big Folk call ‘bagpipes’.”

He politely refrained from describing his relationships to Peridot and Ferdinand. He and Merry had discovered that for some unaccountable reason Big Folk were not interested in family trees.

Legolas drew his own knees up, and mirrored Pippin’s pose. He glanced at the stream flowing by. “Pippin, could you bring me about a dozen of those reeds?”

Pippin looked at him, surprised by the change in subject. Then he shrugged, thinking it was some strange Elvish whim; he tended to forget Legolas was not a hobbit. Still, it was good to have something to do, for whatever reason. He jumped up, and waded into the edge of the stream, and soon brought back an assortment of reeds, and handed them to Legolas, curiosity burning in his green eyes.

Legolas reached into the pouch at his side, and drew out a small knife and a spare bowstring. “In Lasgalen we have an instrument we call laergalena*; I believe that you may be familiar with it by another name.”

He began to cut the reeds into various lengths, carving out holes, and binding them with the bowstring.

Pippin’s face lit up. “Oh, we call those shepherd’s pipes at home!” he exclaimed. “Can you teach me to play them?”

In a very short time, Legolas had fashioned two of the instruments, one for himself, and a smaller one that would fit Pippin’s hands.

Legolas blew into his, and ran down the scale of mellow notes, and Pippin followed his example. The hobbit was a quick study, and soon was accompanying the Elf with a simple melody. They began to play together, fair head and chestnut bent over the instruments, as the sweet music poured forth.

Neither of them took any notice of the audience that had gathered at their backs.

______________________________________________

*Thanks to “Karri” at the Stories of Arda yahoogroup, for the nice Sindarin word meaning “song reeds”.