Tíran i tauri by flame_of_the_noldor  

Tyelkormo sat on the balcony of his atar’s house in Tírion, overlooking the city’s bustling streets. His brothers, Nelyafinwë and Kanafinwë, were away with their swordselfship lessons, and Tyelkormo was told to not disturb his little brother, Morifinwë, or his mother while they were sleeping.

He folded his arms over the white stone wall and set his head down. The sky was a perfect blue as the light of Laurelin shone brightly, illuminating the world in a soft golden glow. He sighed. He was not interested in playing with the other elflings today, and he had become bored of his toys.

Atar had told him that he was not to be disturbed in the forge, as it was too dangerous for Tyelkormo to be there while he was working.

He stared at the mountains of the Pélori, rising like great stone sentinels that guarded the Calacircya and opened the way to see beyond the sea. Tyelkormo sometimes wondered what lay beyond the Sea that existed beyond the Calacirya, but when he asked, he was told that he was too young to know. 

“Come, little Tyelkormo, it is time to start getting ready for the celebration,”, his nanny said as she approached him from behind and tapped him gently on the shoulder, “Your mother will want you all nice and dressed up.”

Tyelkormo sighed. He did not want to go to this celebration, but his parents insisted that all of them go to see atar’s accomplishments and to celebrate Aulë. He knew that it would be very dull and boring, and he would not be allowed to take any toys with him to play with. He would also be fussed over by his mother and nanny, which he hated. Kanafinwë would be perfectly behaved, as he always was, and Nelyafinwë was not very fun to be around. His little brother, Morifinwë, was too little to play with, and mother would no doubt be fussing over him the most, unless his nanny was ordered to stay with him. 

He could feel his nanny gently take his hand and lead him away from the balcony. She gently led him through his atar’s great halls made of brilliant white stone and carved with intricate carvings that his atar and the other eldar that studied under Aulë created. They passed a great stone statue in the central courtyard of the great smith Aulë that his atar had carved as an offering to him. The eyes of the statue were made from precious gemstones that glittered in Laurelin’s golden light and the statue was holding a great hammer, whose head was carved with intricate patterns of swirls and leaves.

The figure’s long hair was beautifully carved, showcasing the skill of his atar’s work when it came to creating works made of stone.

Tyelkormo thought that stone carvings were boring and preferred to ride horses. Stone felt cold and lifeless, but the horses were alive with energy and movement. He loved going to the stables to feed and pet the horses when the stable-hand would let him.

He wished he could go to the stables instead and play with the horses instead of being fussed over by his nanny.

Soon they entered a small room with a mirror and a large chest and closet, filled with various tunics made of silk, wool, and linen. His nanny let go of his hand and pulled up a small wooden stool for Tyelkormo to stand on, as he was still slightly too short to see above where the mirror sat on the wooden table.

His nanny began to pull clothing off of the rack and set them on top of the table.

She placed his hands on his shoulders, “Now, little Tyelka, your mother wants you to wear a nice outfit for the celebration later.”

Tyelkormo frowned as the nanny began to place various outfits over his simple tunic and trousers to see how they would look on him.

She ran a hand through his black hair while smiling. “We’ll also need to make sure you are wearing a nice circlet and have your hair properly braided and styled.”

His nanny then ran through the outfits again, placing a dark green tunic with silver threading over his body, then a white one with golden threading, then a black one with silver threading, and lastly a red one with golden threading.

She smiled, and asked, “Which one would you like to wear, Tyelka?”

Tyelkormo looked at the tunics, and pointed his small hand at the dark green tunic. The color reminded him of the forests, which would give him something pleasant to think about while listening to the older eldar drone on and praise atar’s achievements.

His nanny then asked after placing the tunic in his hands, “Can you put it on for me? I’ll be outside if you need anything.”

He nodded and she briefly left the room.

Tyelkormo quickly got undressed and redressed himself in the tunic. While he liked the color, the fabric of the tunic itself felt slightly scratchy and uncomfortable.

Soon after, the nanny re-entered the room and opened a drawer filled with circlets made from various metals, embedded with precious gemstones, all created by his atar, of course.

She took out a simple silver circlet that ended with both points flowing down to frame his temples and a simple golden one with a small green gemstone embedded in the center where his forehead would sit.

She then placed each circlet on his head and hummed, “Which one do you like more, Tyelka, the silver or the gold one?”

He looked at both again, “I like the silver one.”

She placed it on his head with another smile, and quickly removed it.

“We need to braid and style your hair first.”, she said saccharinely.

She reached over and picked up a small wooden horse hair brush from a nearby table and began to gently brush Tyelkormo’s long hair.

She sighed as she worked through the partially tangled mess that was his hair, “Tyelka, have you not been taking proper care of your hair again?”

He didn’t want to answer, but knew that if he didn’t, his nanny would tell mother, and he did not want another lecture from his mother about not brushing his hair.

“No, naneth, I forgot to brush it today…”, he lied.

“Tyelka...if you do not brush your hair, it will become tangled and we don’t want you looking like you’ve just run through the woods”, she lectured and then sighed.

He sighed, perhaps he did want to look like he had run through the woods instead of looking perfect like his older brothers. His atar partially understood this as he sometimes would take his side when he would come back from playing outside and be covered in dirt and mud.

His mother, of course, would be furious at him tracking dirt through the house, but then his atar would say, “He’s a seldo, Nerdanel. Let him get dirty and be outside.”, to which his mother would reply, “I would prefer if our sons looked like proper princes like Kanafinwë instead of disheveled and dirty.”

Tyelkormo would then be quickly escorted from the room by his nanny or told to go to his room by one of his parents before his parents’ argument began to escalate but he would listen through the door sometimes.

His atar would then be upset as he would argue that being slightly disheveled was not a bad trait at all, and both of his parents would argue back and forth as to why Fëanáro was always disheveled and never looked right, and always spent time in that damned forge of his, and how if she had a proper husband, the other nissí would not make up rumors about her. His atar would then argue that it did not matter at all what the other nissí thought of her, and that he loved her no matter what.

Sometimes this would result in their argument quieting down but sometimes it would end with tears from his mother and atar leaving the room soon after in a huff.

His nanny continued to brush his hair and began to braid it across his scalp, in the proper fashion that young elfings boys should have, according to his nanny. He felt his eyes begin to droop in sleepiness as his hair was braided.

“Wake up, little Tyelka, we don’t want you falling asleep before the celebration.”, his nanny softly said. “We are also not done getting you ready.”

She then procured a small pair of leather boots and guided him to place his feet inside of them. They felt stiff and uncomfortable, not properly broken in like his normal pair.

Lastly, she placed the golden circle on his head, the brilliant green gemstone catching the light of Laurelin. 

His nanny continued to fuss over him, making sure that all of the tangles in his hair and braids were properly taken out, smoothing her hands across the fabric of his tunic to ensure that the fabric was smooth and wrinkle free, and adjusting his circlet to ensure that it was on straight.

Finally she set her hands on Tyelkormo’s shoulders again, and smiled, “There! You look so handsome Tyelkormo, like a proper little prince should.”

She took his hand once more and led him out of the room and into the courtyard, where his parents stood. atar was already dressed up, wearing a long black tunic with elegant silver embroidery along with a red undershirt. His mother was wearing a white dress with silver embroidery and had his little brother, Morifinwë, in a soft lavender linen sling.

“Tyelka was a good boy and so patient,”, she said proudly to his mother, who seemed surprised but happy that he didn’t make a fuss. His atar seemed neutral about the comment but gave him a small smile.

“Lady Nerdanel, would you like for me to take little Morifinwë from you?”

“Oh yes please, thank you.”, Nerdanel said gratefully as she slowly removed the sling from her shoulders while the nanny held Morifinwë before the nanny slung it back over hers, all the while Morifinwë was asleep. 

The whinnying of horses before them signified his brothers’ return as they rode into the courtyard dismounted from their brown and black horses, while the stable hand took led the horses away.

“Ah, Nelyafinwë and Kanafinwë, how were your lessons?”, his father asked.

“They were wonderful, atar,”, Kanafinwë replied, as gentle as ever. Nelyafinwë did not respond but nodded in agreement with him.

Nerdanel sighed and walked over to them, “Maitimo and Makalaurë, please get ready for the celebration, we are already going to be late because you were out swordfighting!”

Makalaurë responded, “I am sorry mother, Maitimo and I were…”

“I don’t care! Go get ready so we can pretend that we are punctual.”, she said exasperatedly.

Makalaurë and Maitimo nodded and quickly hurried back inside.

Nerdanel sighed again as she turned back to Tyelkormo. “Thank you for being so patient with the nanny, Tyelka.”

Tyelkormo nodded while the light of Laurelin began to wane as Telperion’s silver light started to take its place. Soon after, Maitimo and Makalaurë had emerged from inside, wearing silken tunics with the same elaborate embroidery as their father’s tunic.

The carriage driver soon arrived with their transport to the celebration, a simple but elegantly carved wooden carriage with inlays of gold and other precious stones inlaid in the nature inspired carvings.

Fëanáro went first and opened the carriage door for Nerdanel, who quickly stepped in, then Makalaurë after her. Maitimo was next, then Tyelkormo, and lastly, Fëanáro sat on the seat on the other side of the carriage.

Tyelkormo sat quietly for the duration of the carriage ride while Makalaurë and his mother discussed Makalaurë’s future music lessons and Nelyafinwë and father discussed Nelyo's swordselfship lessons that day.

He passively watched the high peaks of the Pélori and the deep dark forests that seemed call to him beyond Tírion pass by him as they rode to the celebration.

As he stared into the mountains, he felt a deep urge to walk into the forest and commune with the trees, to discover the beasts that lay within.

He dreamed of hunting in the forests, hearing the call of wild birds and beasts as he hunted down a creature for his next meal. He dreamed of sailing beyond the sea and discovering new lands for him to hunt in, chasing wild beasts beyond his imagination. He dreamed of taking a trophy for his father to encase with jewels and metal, and mount above the fireplace in their family home, a testament to his skill and bravery. 

They soon arrived at the clearing where the eldar hosted their many festivals and celebrations throughout the year. Banners and streamers were strewn about the many pavilions and gazebos that were dotted across the clearing and the neighboring hills. Fëanáro looked pleased as the carriage driver gently brought the carriage to a standstill, and they proceeded to exit the carriage.

Tyelkormo stepped onto the soft grass and looked around in awe as the many glimmering lamps that his father had created illuminated the landscape, painting it with colors of red, orange, yellow, and gold to counter the waxing silver light of Telperion and the dark veil of stars that hung overhead. Each lamp was created from blown glass and illuminated with strange materials that young Tyelkormo did not quite understand but that his father spoke proudly of.

The lights cast a warm glow as his family walked to a private pavilion reserved for them, as an attendant greeted them warmly.

“So wonderful of you to arrive, we have been waiting for you, Lord Fëanáro.”, the elda said warmly, “Ah, and you have brought your family with you as well.”

“Of course,”, he replied warmly in return, “I would love for them to share in my achievement of creating these wonderful lamps.”

“And we are grateful that you have invented a new way for us to display our love for the blessed light. And for Lord Aulë for granting you the inspiration to create them.”

Tyelkormo looked around the neighboring pavilions, and saw other elves discussing many things, likely his father’s achievements and inventions.

He hoped that one day he would be as accomplished as his father, he felt he did not have any particularly great skills, except for those requiring survival, and he already knew how his mother felt about that. His other brothers, Nelyafinwë and Kanafinwë, had skills his parents celebrated, like Nelyo’s skill with swords, or Kano’s skill with music and speech.

“I heard that your son, Kanafinwë, has written a new piece of music to perform tonight,”, the attendant said.

“Yes, he did,”, Nerdanel said proudly as she looked at Kano, ”my Makalaurë has a gift for words and the harp.”

Tyelkormo saw Kano blush at the compliment, “Oh mother, it is only a simple piece that I thought of while I was out riding with Maitimo.”

Tyelkormo felt his anger rise as Nelyo and Kano received all of the attention from their parents and everyone else around them, as Tyelkormo was ignored.

His parents’ argument was starting to escalate and the nanny was not here to drag him back, and his brothers were Eru knows where. 

Tyelkormo felt another strong urge to walk into the woods, far away from the comforts of Tirion and the boring celebration he had been dragged to. He was tired of being stuck here with his brothers and parents, and feeling ignored. He wanted to go into the woods and never return and live amongst the animals. 

The urge within his mind grew greater, and he slipped away from his parents as they were discussing his father’s lamps with a curious Teleri from Alqualondë. He quietly avoided the other attendees, and due to his size and strength, he could outmaneuver them without becoming tired. Thankfully, none of them seemed to notice why an elfling, particularly Fëanáro’s child, was wandering around without supervision. 

Soon he found himself at the border of the woods that stretched above the celebration around him into the dark peaks of the Pélori. The trees themselves seemed to beckon him in, welcoming him into the forest.

He began to climb over loose logs and branches, heading nowhere in particular. He sought refuge and told himself he would not go far, but far enough away that he would be left alone to cry.

Soon, however, he found that the forest seemed to grow around him and the path changed from where he found himself originally. He no longer saw the bright lights in the distance where the celebration was being held but only the silver mist of the forest.

He began to hear strange rumblings and creaking in the trees around him, as he stopped to listen for any creatures looking for their next meal. He soon stumbled into a small clearing in the forest, a perfect circle within the woods. The trees bent their branches into a small canopy that covered the circle, allowing Tyelkormo to see the stars above him. 

The rumblings and rustlings became louder and closer as Tyelkormo tried to put on a brave face. He snatched a branch from a nearby tree and held it up like he saw how Maitimo held his sword. 

“Who is there?”, the elfling said in a shaky voice. He held his arms close to his body and backed up against a tree in an attempt to protect himself from whatever creature might emerge from the forest. 

Tiran i tauri, a gentle voice inside his mind said in perfect Quenya.

Tyelkormo felt uneasy, as the woods appeared as if they would close around him and devour him on the spot. He focused his mind on a figure emerging from the mist, far taller than any eldar he had ever seen, far taller than even his atar or Maitimo. Next to him, the young elfling could see a great beast in the shape of a white horse striding toward him. Much like the figure, the horse was of far greater stature than the horses that Tyelkormo had seen in his atar’s stables and appeared of a nobler breed. 

The being then shifted into the appearance of a kindly older elda wearing a simple white robe with a fur mantle and a horn hanging from his belt. He placed his hands on the side of his horse as they approached the crying elfling. 

“The woods can be a dangerous place for such a young elfling as yourself, Turkafinwë Tyelkormo Fëanárion.”, the being said in a calm and soothing voice as he knelt down onto one knee. 

Tyelkormo leaped up immediately and said with as much courage as he could muster, “I am brave, I can handle myself.”

“I am sure that is correct, little one. But there are many strange places in the world even where your bravery will be challenged and you may find yourself in dangerous situations alone.”, the being calmly said.

Tyelkormo continued to stand there, caught between sniffling and the facsimile of bravery he wore. Tyelkormo pondered what the being was attempting to tell him then hugged their arms to their chest. 

“I don’t want to be alone.”, he sniffled. 

“Thou wilt never be alone from now on, little one. The forest is always watching. I am always watching.”, the being said soothingly.

The elfling looked at the being strangely, “Who are you?”

The being smiled, “Your kind call me the Lord of Hunters, little one. This forest is under my watch, as are all forests in the lands of Arda.”

The elfling looked at him with curiosity before sniffling again, “There are other forests?”

“Yes there are, many beyond the sea and within Aman.”, the being said, “And I am watcher and lord of them all.”

“Are you one of the Valar?”, Tyelkormo asked, his curiosity piquing further. 

“Yes, I am.”, the being smiled. 

“You haven’t told me your name though…”, the elfling whined impatiently. 

“You shall know it when the time is right. Now, let’s get you back to where you belong.”, the being said as he lifted Tyelkormo up to place on top of his horse. “Your parents must sorely miss you.”

The being’s horse began to gallop faster than Tyelkormo had ever seen or felt a horse gallop, and they soon reached the celebration again. The lights were still strung up around the clearing and the pavilions still stood.

The being then halted his horse, picked Tyelkormo up, and gently set him back down on the ground.

Tyelkormo could see his mother frantically running around in the distance with Kanafinwë trailing her and Nelyafinwë searching in the opposite direction with his father.

“Thou shouldst go back to your family, little one.”, the being gently whispered.

Tyelkormo nodded and walked toward the pavilions. Kano then spotted him out of the corner of his eye and ran toward Tyelkormo.

“Tyelka, I’m so glad I found you”, Kanafinwë said with relief, “We’ve been looking for you for hours, where did you go?”

Tyelkormo yawned before saying, “I went to the forest to get some fresh air.”

Kano nodded before picking him up and hurriedly carrying him back toward the private pavilion, “Oh, our mother is going to be so relieved I found you.”

They hurriedly rushed back toward the pavilion where Maitimo and his parents stood together. Nerdanel looked panicked and worried, while his father and brother looked concerned. 

“Oh, Turkafinwë Tyelkormo there you are!”, his mother said worriedly, “Where have you been? And why are you covered in dirt and leaves?”

Kano spoke up, “Tyelka said he fell and got lost while trying to find Maitimo.”

Nerdanel sighed, “Thank Eru you found him, Makalaurë.”

Kano only smiled as the five of them began to depart and head back to their house in Tírion as the light of Telperion waned and the golden lights of Laurelin began to wax full.

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Tyelkormo restlessly tossed and turned in his bedroom. His nights had become restless after the birth of his latest baby brothers, Ambarussa. Although they were quiet at times, they had a tendency to create a racket that disturbed everyone in the house. More often than not, Tyelkormo had to sleep with a pillow strapped around his ears to avoid the crying of the newborn babes. 

But tonight, as Telperion’s glow steadily rose, he felt a great sense of peace and quiet, as if all of Tírion and Aman had quieted down for some great event of unknown purpose. As he laid back in his bed, his dreams were fanciful, describing great hunts and pleasures of trophies laid before his father and Oromë himself. His father took great pride in his achievements and created beautiful works of art out of his trophies, as well as adorning his brothers with the spoils of their hunt. 

The instructions came to him as soon as he awoke: 

Come to the center of the forest beyond Taniquetil when Telperion is brightest in heaven. You will know how to get there. 

Tyelkormo obeyed, and left the large house of his atar in Tirion.

He cautiously stepped into the courtyard and saw bright Telperion above him, shining like the jewels his atar worked with. 

He walked out onto the cool white stone street lit by Telperion’s silver glow, beacons that led him outside of the city and into the shadowed woods beyond.

As Tyelkormo walked through the abandoned city streets, he felt as if the mountains became closer and closer the more he walked despite still remaining within the walls of Tirion. The cool night air brushed against his skin as he continued walking toward the gates of Tirion. He walked confident through the gates, as if he knew exactly where to go, despite having never been far beyond the bounds of Tírion, let alone beyond Taniquetil.

The Pélori rose before him like great sentinels guarding Taniquetil, as he walked closer to the foothills of the mountains. 

The woods were quiet and there was a strange air to them, as if they were living and watching him with passive interest as Tyelkormo made his way through dense thicket and bough.

Soon he came to a clearing where Telperion’s light shone brightly above him, illuminating the soft grass with silvery light.

He felt an instinctual urge to look up at the stars. Then, a booming voice echoed through his mind, like the sound of a hunter’s horn.

Behold the wild beasts of the forests, led by my charge.

Suddenly various beasts of all wondrous shapes and sizes emerged from the dense forest, great elk and deer, boars and wolves, ravens and falcons, wild aurochs with great horns, and powerful bulls.

They surrounded Tyelkormo in a circle, staying out of his reach. They all looked him with interest, as if they were possessed of an intelligence greater than normal. 

Tyelkormo was urged within his mind to glance up and he saw a pale silver sphere of light above him, as it began to descend and shift into the shape of a grand silver clad being with brilliant silvery horns, clothed in the rainment of stars and the deep void of Ëa.

 

A great voice overcame him once more, and Tyelkormo stumbled backward onto the grass, landing on his back. 

Tilion is my charge, and under him are the beasts of the forests guided by the path set before them, as you shall be, Tyelkormo Fëanárion.

Tilion stood deathly still, watching Tyelkormo with passive interest. Tyelkormo sensed no threat from the maia, but was deeply unnerved with the way his eyes, or what Tyelkormo thought were eyes, bored into him, deep and eternal. 

Nature began to shift, flowing into itself yet staying still as Tyelkormo watched in concurrent awe and fear. He caught a glimpse of the ground and saw it constantly shifting in dizzying ways, ghostly images of what he thought were snakes in the grass, only to shift back into fallen branches.

Tilion began to shift into a mirrored being, standing both before and behind Tyelkormo as the woods began to shift around him, colliding into itself, as leaves and branches flowed together into perfect mirror opposites of the other, constantly flowing and reshaping themselves into newer, wilder shapes. 

 

Grasses flowed upward like the wind and water and circled around the startled elf’s legs.

Throughout it all, the elf felt a great sense of peace overcome him, and awe at how nature itself bent to the Great Hunter’s will.

 

Colors more vibrant than any Tyelkormo had ever seen in Aman bled together into melted facsimiles of trees, leaves, and boughs, as strange multicolored shapes wove their way into his vision. The very forest itself began to merge into kaleidoscopic shapes, then reforming into a facsimile of normality once more. Tyelkormo saw leaves dance and swirl before him, as his mind struggled to understand what was happening to him. 

Tilion held Tyelkormo from behind and in front, and a gentle voice that sounded like his own, yet alien, urged him to close his eyes. Within the darkened void, he saw strange vibrant colors emerge in his mind, coalescing into swirling shapes made of light and color, flashing and dancing around him, encircling him with their fantastical patterns.

In his mind’s eye, he was led through this tunnel of twirling shapes into a central chamber made of twisting, serpentine trees that surrounded a seated figure with several pairs of great horns and antlers springing forth from their head like a crown. The figure had the head of a great and noble stag on its left, the other a noble white bull, and the center head was like that of one of the eldar. He saw that both arms of the figure seemed to be grasping a branch of the trees behind them, and saw the branches transform into horned snakes before his very eyes, gnawing and striking at the figure, yet the figure remained calm.

The great voice of the figure echoed through Tyelkormo’s mind, like the crack of thunder or the beating of a drum. 

My name is Oromë, Lord of Hunters, Tyelkormo Fëanaríon. In me are all beings of the hunt granted their charge, and all forests are under mine and Yavanna’s domain. 

The figure’s horns and antlers continued to flow forth into fractal shapes that bled into the three heads of the figure. Multiple eyes seemed to appear and disappear as quickly as they were formed as Oromë continued to speak. 

Have no fear, Tyelkormo. Thou shalt not be harmed. 

I chose this form so that thou may see whom I am. The forms we take among the eldar are there to protect you and because we wish to meet you as equals, as all life should be.

Tyelkormo could barely formulate a thought while the being continued to speak, but the spark of recognition came to him. 

You are the one that brought me back to my family when I was an elfling.

A great laugh, loud and resonant, echoed throughout Tyelkormo’s mind.

Yes I am. And when I saw you, I knew that thou hadst the spirit I wanted from one of my charges.

Soon Tyelkormo found himself back in the wooded clearing, Tilion at his back now. Nature still swirled and danced around him, bright colors fading in and out of his vision as Tilion whispered in his ear, “We have a great honor in mind for you, Tyelkormo Fëanárion.”

A great beast in the shape of a horse white as snow bearing Oromë on it’s back emerged from the forest. Another beast, a great elk with wide antlers, approached both Tyelkormo and Tilion. Tyelkormo gasped as he was lifted on top of the elk with Tilion sitting behind him.

Tyelkormo saw Oromë’s steed begin to quickly gallop away, as it was carried by the wind itself.

“Now then, Tyelkormo Fëanárion, you shall partake in the Great Hunt.”, the maia whispered once more as the elk began to gallop in pace with Oromë. 

Tyelkormo’s head lolled as the branches swirled into intertwining multicolored serpents and he felt every beat of the elk’s hooves against the ground, as if he were the elk itself.

The hooves continued to thunder against the ground as the forest grew thick and dark around them, and they ascended atop hill and cliff, before coming to the top of a large promontory that overlooked the forest and Yavanna’s pastures below them. A rushing waterfall fell past them, and the sound was like that of the sweetest music to the elda’s ears. 

Tyelkormo was quickly handed a silver bow, and instantly, it felt like his vision sharpened, able to see the slight twitch of a bird’s wings as it sat in a far away tree, the skittering of a squirrel as it bounded up a tree, and the slithering of a snake in the underbrush far below them. He felt at one with the earth, the rocks, the trees, the water below and around him. His ears heard the sound of rushing water on the other side of the peak of Hyamentir, the very heartbeat of the elk that he was sitting atop of, and the cry of an eagle far above them as it flew toward Taniquetil on its nightly patrol. 

As if on instinct, he aimed his bow right at the heart of an elk that was wandering the woods in search of food and he let loose his arrow, striking the elk directly and instantly killing it. A surge of pride overcame him as he drank In the success of his hunt.

Oromë nodded with approval as his horse trotted next to Tilion. Tilion smiled, or at least appeared to smile behind Tyelkormo. 

“You are doing well, Tyelkormo Fëanárion, but there are greater beasts for us to hunt tonight.”

Oromë withdrew the horn from his belt and blew upon it, the sound echoing throughout the entirety of Aman, shaking stone and water, earth and air with its great bellow. Then, his horse galloped away and began to leap over the crags below them, until he reached the bottom of the mountains. Tilion and Tyelkormo followed suit, as their elk gracefully bounded down the rocky clefts until they met Oromë.

Tyelkormo stared into the dark sea before them, the gently lapping waves at their mounts’ hooves forming itself into kaleidoscopic shapes and spirals before shifting back into water. 

Tyelkormo could see Oromë nod with approval again before his horse leaped into the water, but instead of sinking, the horse began to float on top of the water as if it were merely ground. He watched in awe as Oromë’s mount carried him atop the water and soon, himself and Tilion joined him. The water touched the elk’s hooves but did not allow them to sink, even if everything that Tyelkormo knew in that moment told him that they should be.

In the distance, he could see the starry lights of Alqualondë glittering against the sea, but they quickly passed as the pair of them rode swiftly and silently across the water. 

Far ahead of them, Tyelkormo could see looming mountains and rocky shores, of an unknown place to him.

Oromë, as if sensing his curiosity said, “These are the lands that exist beyond Aman, created by the Valar in the great Spring, now corrupted by Morgoth.”

They reached the shore and stood upon its rocky banks. Great cliffs rose above them, hemming them in like cages, but their companions quickly ascended the cliffs to bask in the view of the unspoiled land, to Tyelkormo’s eyes, before them.

Dark shadows crept around them, and calls of strange birds and wild animals filled the air with a deathly dread. Even in his stupor, Tyelkormo knew that many of these beasts were greater than those that he had hunted before in Aman.

“Come now, there is work to be done.”, Oromë ordered as he blew his great horn once more before leaping away into the pitch black darkness of the nearby forest. The elk bearing Tilion and Tyelkormo followed suit and the trees whirled past him in a blur of black as they heard the cry of a fell beast nearby, terrible and dreadful.

He saw the glint of a great spear in Oromë’s hand as it flew through the air like a beacon of light before striking it’s target, briefly illuminating the terrible shape of the beast’s face. Tyelkormo dared not look at it, for fear of the beast’s visage.

They continued to gallop through the woods, overcoming each obstacle in their path with no fear or trouble. He felt Tilion draw another silver bow and nock the arrow in preparation for their next target. He heard the string of the bow pulled taut, then loosened as the arrow flew through the air like a falling star, before striking through the skull of another terrible beast, whose horns Tyelkormo could only make out the vague shape of.

An urge surged within his mind, the urge to hunt these shadow creatures, to fell them before his bow and drink in victory. His senses, still more alive than ever, came into focus as he nocked the silver arrow that Tilion handed him from his quiver, pulled the bow taut, and fired.

He barely had time to register the scream of a foul creature in the darkness before Tilion handed him another arrow. This too, was nocked and fired into the heart of a flying creature that attempted to swoop down upon Tyelkormo to peck his eyes out. With a howling screech, the beast fell before them and was trampled underfoot by the great elk’s hooves. Dreadful serpents and wolves followed suit, pursuing them and attempting to strike their fangs at the three of them, but all were vanquished with silver light from the strike of Oromë’s spear or the arrows of Tilion and Tyelkormo.

Soon their hunt came to an end, and they returned to the shores from where they had originally arrived. 

Tyelkormo soon fell asleep as they raced on top of the water, too tired to keep his head aloft. As they came back to the shores of the Bay of Eldamar, Tyelkormo was gently woken up by Tilion. As he woke up, his vision cleared and his senses no longer felt as sharp, but they felt stronger than before. 

As they returned to the Calacirya, they stopped just above the city of Tírion, at the hill of Ezollahar.

Oromë turned to him and said, “Now is here where we must depart, Tyelkormo Fëanárion. You have now participated in the Great Hunt and are worthy of bearing a token of my might.”

He snapped his fingers and a glistening silver spear and bow, much like Oromë and Tilion’s own, instantly materialized within his hands.

Tilion dismounted and took both the spear and bow from Oromë’s hands and knelt before Tyelkormo.

“Treasure these with your life, Tyelkormo Fëanárion. They are made of metals that shall never break, rust, or dull, and they will serve you well in your travels, for they are blessed by the Lord of Hunters.”

Tyelkormo gratefully took both weapons and slung the bow over his back before testing the heft of the spear with both of his hands. The spear was elegant and taller than him, but glowed with an iridescent light that seemed to never fade. On the shaft of the spear were carved various runes in a language he did not understand, but knew that they contained the blessings of Oromë himself.

He gratefully bowed his head and walked down the hill back toward Tírion.

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Tyelkormo rode quickly to the forest to clear his mind. The familiar light of the Trees was gone, replaced by a cold darkness that blanketed Aman in dread. Only by the light of the lamps invented by his father could Tyelkormor navigate his way toward the foothills of the Pélori.

When he arrived, he saw that the forest looked sickened and dead, and even the light from his lamp appeared to grow dim. He felt the unease with which his equine companion trotted into the forest, fearful of potential predators and shadowy beings that lurked in the darkness. 

Oromë met him where they normally did, at the same clearing in the woods that the Vala had first found him as a child, now marked by a series of standing stones carved by his brothers to honor the Vala.

Oromë, clothed in the form of the eldar, stood in the center, watched Tyelkormo arrive.

“I am glad that thou couldst meet me here, Tyelkormo Fëanárion.”, he said, calm as the earth before a storm. “I have heard from Lord Manwë about what has happened to your father.”

“Yes, it is a terrible tragedy that has been wrought by Morgoth.”, said Tyelkormo sadly, although hints of anger and rage began to slowly bubble to the surface.

“Thou shouldst remain here, Tyelkormo, and await the council of the Aratar.”, Oromë responded calmly.

“I cannot, Lord Oromë, my atar has sworn an oath to retrieve the Silmarils from the hands of Morgoth on the blessed name of Eru Ilúvatar, and on Manwë and Varda’s sacred names. I have also pledged myself to this oath, and am honor bound to hold to it, even at cost of my life.”, Tyelkormo said, straightening himself up in pride.

Tyelkormo could see Oromë’s visage melt into sadness and sorrow as Tyelkormo continued, determination colored with rage filling his voice, “We have decided to set out for the lands beyond Aman and cross the Helcaraxë to reach Endóre, for we know that the Melkor has fled Aman.”

“Tyelkormo…”, Oromë softly said, “I will not stop you from honoring the oath you swore, as the Melkor must face judgment for his crimes.”

Oromë’s voice then turned to slow rising thunder at the beginning of a storm, gradually rising in power until the woods themselves echoed with the fury of his words.

“Hunt down the vile beasts and foul creatures of the Melkor in my name, Tyelkormo Fëanárion. Let him fear the fierce horn of the Valaróma once more, as he did in the days before the awakening of the eldar. Morgoth must be brought back to Aman and face his judgment at Máhanaxar once more. His foul designs have desecrated our work for long enough.”

Tyelkormo shrunk back in fear and awe at the Vala’s words.

The forest then calmed around Tyelkormo as the Vala calmed himself. 

“Now to you, great hunter Tyelkormo, a gift for thy travels.”, the Lord of Forests bellowed, as a mighty dog nearly the size of one of the Valinorian steeds strode forth. Tyelkormo widened his eyes in anticipation as the beast strode closer to him and bowed its head.

Never leaving his eyes from the awed elf, Oromë said, “Now this gift is thine to take with you. His name is Huan, and he is one of the greatest of my hounds. May he serve you well.”

The beast bowed its head and sank to its front paws in a bow as Oromë strode back into the woods upon Nahar.

Tyelkormo called after him, “How shall I know if your presence is with me?”

Tyelkormo felt an intense pressure inside his mind as the phrase Tíran i tauri entered his mind and he was filled with understanding.

Tyelkormo stared into the brown eyes of the beast and placed his hand upon its head, marking the beast as his own.

With one final glance into the twisting woods, Tyelkormo and his beast-companion slowly made their way back out of the dark forest.

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As Tyelkormo boarded the boat that would lead him and his brothers to the lands beyond Aman, he looked back one last time at the Pélori and wondered if he would ever see them or their forests again. 

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