The Hunter's Song by Rhapsody

Stargazing - Sloth

It's Celegorm's turn now and he ponders his destiny.

Even at night, the stars remind me of what a failure I am. I lie here beyond a hill sheltered from Telperion’s waxing light so that I can gaze at these jewels in the sky without pollution from the tree’s silver light. And beautiful they are: shining and twinkling something to rely on, just as my Atar is for his people, I know I can only blame myself for being like this. It almost feels unfair to me that I have nothing which I can claim my own now. Not a craft which Atar masters and has won great renown with, the self-esteem of Nelyo which makes every maiden turn their heads into his direction as he walks upon the streets of Tirion. Or even more admirable: the manner how Cáno can touch so deeply into the hearts of all with such a seemingly simple gift: music. But I know he worked hard on this skill, day in and out, working with tutor after tutor, being Atar’s shining example when he wants to lecture me about work ethic.

I can see it in his eyes that I disappoint him, even the younger ones are more pleasing to him than his lazy son who does nothing more than to hang around the house or once in a while comes back with the bounty of hunting. No, I do not share the pleasures of riding him to Aulë and his halls where the art of creating reigns those who seek guidance there.

So here I lay, my head feels heavy on my hands and I wonder what is written in the stars for me. I often hear how my brother sings of destiny woven into the expanse of Valacirca, but yet when I gaze up to them I ponder what might me written in the stars for me. It cannot be who I am right now: steerless and lapse in to this state of sloth. So, what is it? My fëa screams, rebelling against my outer shell once it detects the soft cords dancing on the gentle wind that soothingly ruffles my hair, but I keep my mind firmly locked onto Helluin. This is another gift that my elder brother has: his voice has a tremendous reach, where ever he speaks or sings, many can follow his lead on the road to the majesty of our house.

Oh please deliver me, show me a sign, one that I can follow. Suddenly my head turns from right to left, hoping that none would have heard Turcafinwë, third son of Féanoro, praying to Varda’s stars for guidance. And what much good it does, I think and yet again, I cannot imagine that this high and mighty Valier will listen and provide me with guidance. Ay, yes I do feel bitterness, for it feels that she thinks her work is done now since the beloved children of the Valar are home. But who led them to these shores? Ataren says it was not she, but it was the Valaróma to whom they hearkened at first. Cáno’s music grows as if he appears to be near, this time I try to discern what instrument he has mastered now. The sound feels light and yet warm, as silver dust that trickles through the forge’s light of Atar when he works on a pendant or something alike the shine reflecting the warmth of the workplace.

“Ai, Turco. Here you are.” My brother’s voice sounds like silk, gentle, and calming on one’s skin when they see solace between the sheets of one’s bed.

“Is Atar looking for me?” The moment these words tumble from my mouth I silently scold myself. Why do I judge him so fast to think that Atar has sent him to fetch me? Days ago he said we would leave for Aulë’s hall, but my heart is not in it. I do know that my brother is his own man, not an errand boy who delivers and gathers messages for his lord. Then silence is between us and I see a tender smile lingering on his lips as if he simply knows I will be chiding myself in my thoughts for my words.

“Forgive me,” I apologise and I am rewarded with a warm chuckle.

“For what Turco? I am not offended. You are the master of your own words and thoughts.”

And how true he is, for nothing fools Cáno; although he does not show that often, for it is almost Nelyo who speaks for us when Atar is not around.

“What brings you here then?” Ai, Turcafinwë! I chide myself, why is it so hard to return such gentleness?

“I was indeed looking for you. A messenger came from Valimar, carrying this.” Cáno lowers himself to the ground next to me, handing me a wooden box, while a small silver flute is being held in the other hand.

“This does not bear a sign I recognise,” I answer while I study the lid before breaking the seal.

“Then you have not spent enough time around Nelyo the past years.” Cáno teases me, “For that was the seal of one of the Aratar.”

I feel chided for not paying so much respect to the High Ones of Arda, but his smile is kind and his eyes are patient. “Well come on, open it!”

This I do while the laugh resonates between us, his eyes more eager to find out why one of them would send a gift to me. I can think of only one who might be so kind, one that grandfather Finwë often refers too with reference. He simply could not have…

My fingers find a note, but I cannot read it here. Under it lays a wooden horn, simple and refined. “Come,” I say to my brother while the small pieces of the puzzle falls into its place. I scramble to my feet, the stars long forgotten and I run up the hill to catch the light of Telperion to read the note.

“Well hurry if you do want to know!” I yell to my brother who is surprised by my sudden burst of energy and I wonder how many have seen me as the idle son of the seven. With eagerness I unfold it and I know this is my destiny. My voice sounds steady and firm, but also energetic and full of life when I read aloud: “It has come to my attention that Turcafinwë Fëanorion is available for an apprenticeship in hunting…”

Chapter End Notes

Canon note:

Fëanor and his sons abode seldom in one place for long, but travelled far and wide upon the confines of Valinor, going even to the borders of the Dark and the cold shores of the Outer Sea, seeking the unknown. Often they were guests in the halls of Aulë; but Celegorm went rather to the house of Oromë, and there he got great knowledge of birds and beasts, and all their tongues he knew.

From: The Silmarillion, Chapter 5 Of Eldamar and the Princes of the Eldalië

Quenya used:

Telperion: The elder of the Two Trees of Valinor, called the White Tree.
Atar: father
Nelyo: Maedhros nickname
Cáno: Maglor’s nickname
Valacirca: ”Sickle of the Gods”, this is the name for the Great Bear/Big Dipper constellation. Varda created this constellation.
Fëa: "spirit" (pl. fëar attested, MR:363).
Helluin: The brightest of Varda's stars. The name in Middle-earth for the star today known as the Dog Star, Sirius. Its name appears to mean 'ice-blue'.
Féanoro: Fëanor’s mother name
Turcafinwë: Celegorm’s fathername
Aratar: "the Supreme", the chief eight Valar, translation of the foreign word Máhani adopted and adapted from Valarin (WJ:402).
Fëanorion: son of Fëanor
Ataren: attested Quenya (VT43:36-37) for grandfather
Turco: Celegorm’s nickname
Valaróma: Oromë’s hunting horn
Valimar: ‘Vala-home’. A name of the city of the Valar in Valinor, more commonly referred to as 'Valmar'.