Chapter Text
Fëanáro and Nerdanel rode north at a leisurely pace, for once in their lives. To both of these high-achieving creators, it felt strange and empty to have no pressing matter to attend to. No place to be in a timely manner. There was only the gentle creaking of wood as ancient trees swayed slightly in the breeze, and the melodious calls of songbirds, and the smell of recent rain upon the rich soil and fresh grass.
It felt like the olden days. The days before they were married, when they wandered far and wide across Valinórë. And yet, something was missing; so much had changed since those merry and innocent times.
They were silent for a while. Uncomfortable, almost. When was the last time they had shared such a peaceful solitude, with no children or servants running around?
Fëanáro casually pointed out some caves which he had once explored and mined for gems or metal. Nerdanel listened and nodded, but she didn’t have much to say in response. She hadn’t been around for most of these expeditions he described.
He paused and frowned after one such instance, noticing her quietness. “Are you still angry with me, love?”
“No,” she told him, and unlike many recent times, she spoke truthfully. “I am simply at a loss for words. I was not with you when you explored these places, and my knowledge of mining for gems is but scarce. You know the only place I frequent is my quarry… Maitimo often used to go with me to help me haul the stone, in the days when he and I were both less busy.”
A bittersweet smile crossed her features. Part of her wished she had asked Fëanáro to wait, so she could stay with Maitimo a little longer. How was he faring now? She wasn’t sure she had much rational reason to worry, since he was recovering well and the healers were watching over him. But why was there still a knot in her stomach when she thought of him?
Fëanáro gazed at her intently. With his gaze came a strong thought, so clear that Nerdanel could sense it in her own heart. He knew how she still worried for her eldest son.
Tears came to Nerdanel’s eyes. She couldn’t remember the last time they had exchanged a thought through ósanwë. Yet even after all these years of distance and strife, her husband still knew her better than anyone.
“Forgive me, love, if I am a little distracted,” she told him. “My mother’s heart cannot be fully at ease until he is well.”
Fëanáro nodded in understanding, his bright blue gaze calm and thoughtful. “See, for me, I believe my job is done, and I have solved the problem. But perhaps for you, your job is not done. My role was to provide the resources he needed to recover, and I did that, and I am satisfied. But I suppose your role is to nurture him until he is fully healed, and that is not complete…” His voice trailed off, and his gaze dropped to the ground, and he frowned slightly. “Would you rather return home? Perhaps I called you away too early.”
“No. No,” Nerdanel reassured him, despite this accurate naming of her feelings and intuitions. She could read hurt in his words, and too many times since they became parents, she had neglected him in favor of the children. “I know it is not rational for me to worry too much, since he is faring so much better, and the healers are caring for him diligently. I only ask for a little patience if my mind wanders elsewhere.” Putting a hand on his muscular arm, she added, “You deserve my time and my love every bit as much as Maitimo does.”
From there, their conversation flowed more freely as they spoke of the antics of their children, and their crafts, and the memories they shared in these woods to the north of Tirion. Though Nerdanel realized it might have been helpful to address some of the recent wounds they had dealt each other, it didn’t seem as important now as just… having fun again. Pretending they were unwed lovers planning a future again.
But before they had ridden very far north, they were startled by some familiar voices. The loud, brash voice of Carnistir. The high, light voices of the Ambarussar.
Fëanáro and Nerdanel shared a puzzled glance. What were their children doing here? Had they been following them?
They rode towards the source of the noise and discovered the three of them on horseback, arguing with each other about something relating to Tyelko. They were so engrossed in their argument that they didn’t notice the appearance of their parents.
“Boys! What are you doing here?” Fëanáro’s deep, resonant voice made all three of them jump, and their faces go white.
“Um, no reason, Atar,” Telvo said, his face flushing, and he squirmed in his saddle and fidgeted with his reins. “We were just—having fun—”
“Knock it off. You’re a horrible liar,” Moryo scolded him, scowling. “I guess I might as well say it. Tyelko went missing, and none of us know where he is. We’re looking for him.”
Fëanáro and Nerdanel exchanged a horrified glance.
“I don’t understand,” Nerdanel said. “I spoke with Tyelko just last night. He agreed to watch the two of you.” She nodded in the twins’ direction.
“Well, we don’t understand either. He’s just gone,” Pityo said with a shrug. “Nelyo asked us about him at breakfast this morning, and no one knew where he was. Nelyo got really worried, and Kano said we should all go out searching. He and Curvo are around searching somewhere, too. Nelyo stayed home, of course.”
Nerdanel could feel the blood draining from her face. Oh, how Maitimo would worry, especially being stuck home alone! And what of Tyelko? What if he had gone on a late-night hunt and gotten attacked by wolves?
“Where are Kanafinwë and Curufinwë now?” Fëanáro demanded.
“We don’t know. Like I said, they’re probably somewhere around here. We only just started searching.”
“Have you agreed upon certain areas to search, and when to regroup?”
Carnistir replied, “Nelyo asked us to be home by the mingling. We agreed that the Ambarussar and I would search north, and Kano would go west, and Curvo would go south. There isn’t much ground to cover east, so we figured we should save that for later.”
“If Pityo and I had been allowed to go by ourselves, we could have gone east,” Telvo grumbled.
Fëanáro sighed loudly. “That is the opposite of what you should have done. You should have gone east first precisely because there is less ground to cover. You could have eliminated the possibility quickly. Come, let’s find Kanafinwë and Curufinwë, and I will design a more efficient method of search.”
The three brothers wouldn’t have admitted it, but they were relieved to have their father take over the strategy of the search, and they gratefully followed as he led them swiftly in a perimeter around Tirion. It wasn’t long before they found Curvo first and then Kano, since they were searching their respective areas thoroughly, and hadn’t gone very far in either direction. They also checked the beaches east of Tirion, since it was an easy possibility to eliminate, as Fëanáro suggested. And surely enough, Tyelko wasn’t there.
With the entire party assembled, they took a moment to gather around on the beach and discuss their next strategy. Curvo looked sheepish when Fëanáro once again explained to everyone why they should have gone east first, and how they should have planned in more detail which areas to search. “I should have thought of that,” he grumbled.
“Now, before we search anywhere in any particular kind of detail, we should think logically about where Turcafinwë might have gone,” Fëanáro told everyone. “Does anyone have any ideas?”
“The Woods of Oromë!” Pityo piped up.
Fëanáro nodded in agreement. “This could indeed be a possibility, though why would he go there without telling anyone, especially when he agreed upon some responsibility at home?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if he just forgot about it,” Kano muttered.
“There are unanswered questions, but it is a worthy place to search,” Nerdanel said.
Fëanáro nodded in agreement. “Any other ideas? What say you, Curufinwë? You seem to be his closest confidant.”
Curvo bristled at the question. Why did everyone, even his Atar, have to keep asking him that? Still, Atar might be more likely to understand than Nelyo or anyone else, so he did his best to explain. “Tyelkormo has barely breathed a word to me recently. I don’t understand what’s going on in his mind. I have no more useful information than anyone else, and thus, cannot make an informed guess.”
Sure enough, Fëanáro’s expression changed from a look of hardened focus to a gentler, more sympathetic gaze. “You are in the dark as much as we are, then. However, you still have your ability to reason logically, so if you come up with any ideas based on your limited information, please tell me.”
Curvo nodded, feeling as though some sort of uncomfortably tight screw in his body had been loosened, and his muscles relaxed. Finally, he was released of this expectation to read Tyelko’s mind. Nelyo seemed able to read everyone’s mind, and was probably frustrated with Curvo for lacking the ability. However, Fëanáro was more like Curvo, preferring observable facts over attempting to read the complex and often self-contradictory feelings and moods of others.
“Does anyone have any better guesses than the Woods of Oromë?” Fëanáro asked. The brothers all shook their heads, and Fëanáro seemed to think for a moment before saying, “This is the plan, then. We will split up so we cover more ground, but as a unit, we will move south. We will regroup at the mingling as Nelyafinwë suggested, but since we are moving south, we will make camp and continue searching until we reach Oromë.”
Both Nerdanel and Laurë balked at the idea for Maitimo’s sake, and Laurë was the first to speak up. “But Atar, we promised Maitimo—”
“He will be fine,” Fëanáro retorted, his eyes narrowing and his voice growing suddenly icy. “Nelyafinwë has an intelligent brain in his head, and he will not be stupid enough to leave home while he is still wounded. He may worry, but it is more important that we not waste time in our search.”
Curvo, Moryo and the twins all nodded, agreeing with this logic. Only Makalaurë and Nerdanel shared an uneasy glance, both knowing Maitimo well enough to disagree with Fëanáro’s assessment. While Laurë resented Fëanáro essentially calling Maitimo stupid, he also knew full well that Maitimo’s intelligence was mostly in the areas of academics and diplomacy, and not in, well, common sense. Laurë couldn’t fault him there, since he was inclined the same way. Honestly, so was pretty much everyone in this family. Besides, he wasn’t sure Maitimo would be able to endure the stress of waiting home alone for all his missing brothers, even if he knew it would be stupid to go out searching for them. If his past patterns of behavior were any indicator, Maitimo would always put his brothers’ needs first, and his own needs last.
Nerdanel had similar thoughts, knowing how she would feel if she were stuck home alone and her entire family were missing, and she had no way of contacting any of them. A sick feeling settled in her stomach as she considered the mental agony this would put Maitimo through. Yet both she and Makalaurë could tell Fëanáro was in one of his moods, and he was firmly set in his plan, and he wouldn’t listen to either of them.
Nerdanel silently sent a prayer to Eru Ilúvatar and the Valar, asking them to give Maitimo some peace in his heart, and to prevent him from doing anything foolish.
* * *
Tyelko and Huan reached Alqualondë later in the evening, just as the silver light of Telperion began to mingle with the gold of Laurelin. He had not spoken to Huan this entire time, nor Huan to him. The silence weighed heavier and heavier on Tyelko’s heart, especially as he realized these were among his last moments of spending time with his beloved hound. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He would have to apologize first, and his pride couldn’t bear that.
To Tyelko’s great surprise, he felt… a sort of calm being here. Being on the other side of the eastern mountains of Valinórë, the Trees did not shine as brightly here. The silver-gold light of the Trees was a dim glow, just enough to light the streets. This allowed Tyelko to see the black, velvety sky above, twinkling with silver stars.
Where Tirion would have been settling down for the night, Alqualondë seemed to be just waking up. The Teleri Elves of this city gathered around on the shore to watch the waves shimmering under the starlight.
And Tyelko blended in here. In Tirion, his head of silver hair stuck out almost as badly as those of his redheaded mother and brothers. But here in Alqualondë, many of the Teleri had silver hair, so no one glanced at him as he entered the city.
You could stay here. A thought strangely appeared in his mind. It was not something Tyelko would have thought on his own. You are not known here. You don’t have to go across the sea.
Tyelko firmly shook the thought aside. His uncle Arafinwë lived here, so he would be found out eventually.
He was never great at negotiating for things, unlike Nelyo, so he had no idea how to start. Normally, his winning strategy was to ask for something and throw a fit if he didn’t get his way. So, he decided to just walk up to the nearest mariner, who was tending the sails of one of the mighty swan-boats.
At first, Tyelko entirely forgot his words, so enraptured was he with the glistening white vessel. It was carved in detail with feather shapes all over its body, the lines of them looking exactly like those of a real bird. The neck of the swan arched gracefully, and its eyes glittered with pearlescent gems.
Tyelko suppressed a grin. Real swans weren’t nearly that nice. Most of them were brats. But as soon as he realized his thoughts were taking him in a happy direction, he shoved them away. He didn’t deserve to enjoy himself here. He was doing something wrong, as a punishment to himself for the other wrongs he had done.
“Excuse me,” he blurted out to the startled Teler. “I was wondering, where can I get a boat with which to sail across the sea?”
The mariner, a silver-haired nér much like himself, stared incredulously at Tyelko and burst out laughing. “No one has crossed the seas since our ancestors arrived centuries ago, my boy. And these swan-boats are the treasure of our people. They are not for sale.”
“I didn’t mean the swan boats,” Tyelko shot back, his face reddening. “Real swans aren’t like that, anyway. They’re obnoxious and they bite people. They’re not as nice as you make them out to be.”
The Teler looked peeved, with his silver brows creasing and a faint scowl crossing his lips. He shook his head in disapproval. “You need some time under the stars.”
“Excuse me?”
“Time under the stars. Exactly what it sounds like.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Are you not from around here?” the Teler said incredulously.
Tyelko was silent, trying to figure out whether or not he should reveal himself. If he admitted he wasn’t from around here, he ruined any chance of passing as a Teler. But then again, he might have ruined it already.
Timo would be able to fix this if he were here.
Apparently Tyelko’s silence drew on long enough that he gave himself away. The Teler’s annoyed and confused gaze softened, and he climbed down from the boat and joined Tyelko on the dock. “Are you lost, boy?”
“No. I know I’m in Alqualondë. The overly nice swan boats kind of give it away. And by the way, I came here on purpose.”
“Ah… That’s not what I mean. You seem lost in your fëa to me. And you need time under the stars.”
Tyelko scowled deeply in an effort to suppress the tears welling up in his throat. He wouldn’t allow some random Telerin sailor to get to his feelings! He wouldn’t!
“I still don’t know what time under the stars means,” he huffed.
“Well, come here and I’ll show you.” The Teler put a gentle hand on Tyelko’s back and guided him onto the ship. They sat on a bench, intricately carved with designs of seashells and pearls. Huan followed them, his tail thumping slightly for the first time during this whole trip. Tyelko didn’t know why he was following this nér, but perhaps it simply sounded better than continuing to fight everyone.
“The Trees aren’t the only source of light, you know,” the Teler said, gazing upwards and smiling slightly. Though his face looked as youthful as all the immortal Eldar, his eyes looked ancient, brimming with thousands of years of memories. “The stars are perhaps even more hallowed, being created by Varda herself. If you gaze at them long enough, there will be no room for evil in your heart.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Tyelko retorted. “First of all, how can some starlight get rid of evil? Second of all, I’m not evil.”
He stopped himself. Hadn’t he been calling himself evil this whole time?
“I’m not saying you are, young one. But whenever one of us is angry or hurt or in despair, it is often because we have not spent enough time with the stars. Gazing at them in silence. Contemplating how they, though beautiful and splendid in their own right, point to the greater beauty and splendor of those who created them. Varda, and ultimately Eru Ilúvatar.”
“Oh, so now you’re making this all about the Valar!” Tyelko’s face flushed and he stood up, preparing to leave, but the Teler put a gentle hand on his arm.
“If you wish to leave, so be it. But might I ask you to test my word first? I will speak no more, and I will leave you alone if you wish. But I invite you to sit and watch them for a while. Watch them twinkle. Look for pictures in them. And if it doesn’t help you, well then, you’ve proven me wrong.”
Sitting and meditating was not something Tyelko found fun, but proving this old Teler wrong sounded like a good challenge to him.
“How long do I have to sit here?” he asked.
“As long as it takes for something to change in your heart.”
“Any sort of change at all? Even if I become angrier or sadder?”
The Teler seemed puzzled, but he nodded and shrugged. “I don’t believe the stars will do that to you. But test me and see what you think.”
Tyelko gave a satisfied smirk as the Teler got up and left to work on the ropes and sails of the ship. He sat and looked at the stars for a long while, but nothing changed. He just got bored and started thinking of other things.
Things he didn’t want to think about. Like his family, and how they might have all been searching for him. How Timo was probably still suffering and in pain because of him. Well, they would all be better off without him. They’d grieve at first, but they’d quickly grow accustomed to the absence of Tyelkormo and his hot temper.
He thought of Morirámo and quickly shoved the thought aside. And of Oromë. And Huan, sitting beside him and contentedly wagging his tail.
“I guess you like the stars better than I do, huh?” Tyelko huffed.
Huan looked up at Tyelko and uttered a happy bark.
Tyelko’s face paled and his heart crashed into the pit of his stomach.
He heard only a hollow bark, and understood no words.