The only student of Maglor on record on this side of the Sea by Himring  

Late Third Age, Blue Mountains (ii)

It felt quite different from singing in Sindarin, a different sensation in the mouth and the lungs, yet precisely because of that Emlinn thought she might now be starting to get them right, those harsh sweet sounds. She reached the end of what seemed to be the second stanza and paused, waiting hopefully. Her chest ached faintly.

‘Not bad,’ said Dis, judiciously. ‘Let’s try that last phrase again.’

‘But aren’t you supposed not to teach me to speak Khuzdul?’ Emlinn asked startled, belatedly.

‘I’m not teaching you to speak it. Singing in Khuzdul doesn’t count,’ said Dis and smiled warmly.

Chapter End Notes

Prompt: my lungs / ached, huge with breath and the harsh / sweetness of strange words (Joan Larkin, Mozart Songbook)