9. I - The Matter with Things (Eru, Varda)
Prompt - I – like inspiring Ilúvatar
The Matter with Things
Ilúvatar basked in the praise that flowed through creation. Melkor, who usually caused trouble, was off rummaging though inchoate otherwheres, and everyone else seemed to be humming along perfectly in tune: laLAlaLalaLAlaLA looping around and around, over and over, the way he had told them to sing it. The music sounded lovely, but the same. Did any of them come up with variation or two or a different harmony? No! They were all stuck in a lalala rut!
Suddenly something felt different and a flicker of hope rose in him, though he couldn't pin it down. Heavy. He felt a heavy thing! What was an old, abandoned thing doing in this part of the universe? He followed the odd trail of stuff and narrowed his focus on Varda who seemed bent and twisted somehow. Becoming aware of his proximity, she resumed her usual configuration, humming a bit more insistently as drifts of things hovered nearby.
"What were you doing?" Ilúvatar asked her, wondering if she would cause as much trouble as Melkor, and if that would make a change for the better.
"Just squeezing this together. What ever is it?" Varda replied with an innocent laLa.
Ilúvatar scraped the stuff off the fabric of the universe. "When I first realized I was lonely, I made it, but it never did much. The Ainur and the music do a much better job of praising." He examined the things and found that some of them were heavier than he remembered making them. "Show me what you did."
Varda bent and twisted herself around and the things pulsed and changed. Varda giggled, and did it again, and again, and again. She panted out a laLala, not quite on time, and the whole area around her quivered and pulsed as bits of things shifted around.
"I am so sorry I missed the beat, but look, sir, the things are much bigger now! Did I ruin them?"
"I do not think so."
Ilúvatar poked at a bigger thing and saw it was six things squashed together into one and very malleable when clumps stuck together. This had possibilities. He squashed the excitement coursing through him, but it rose up and recombined just like the things did.
A new theme grew in his mind, and he contemplated his Ainur speculatively. Change, variation. Perhaps if he gave them all things to manipulate the praise would be better.
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