A Sense of History: Straight Road
The next in a series of articles about ships passing to and from the West, Simon uses "The Fall of Númenor" to attempt to arrive at Tolkien's reading of the exordium to "Beowulf."
Maglor sitting with his harp in hands in a corner of the courtyard in the fortress of Himring. Maedhros was out on patrol, and Maglor was not at all fretting, thank you very much.
Celegorm had arrived recently with a message from Curufin. Apparently he had felt the need to move again and so their crafty brother had sent their hunt loving sibling away with a message.
And seeing Celegorm acting right now, taking care of one of the last of his hunting birds, one of Himring’s hunting dogs at his feet, Maglor couldn’t help but think of other times, simpler times.
* * * Flashback * * *
In another courtyard, under the light infinitely sweeter of Laurelin, a laughing and oh so young Tyelkormo was sitting in the middle of the House’s pack of hunting dogs, Huan faithfully at his side, and on his arm was perched a bird of prey, that Tyelkormo was speaking to, explaining to the animal the hunt they were preparing to go on.
The contrast between his vibrant personality and usual rough behavior and the gentleness of his hands when he touched the bird was notable.
Despite his tenderness with the animal, Tyelkormo was visibly relaxed, his eyes full of laughter. He had lost some times ago all sign of childhood, nevertheless, his youth was visible.
The hunt was to feed the house for the upcoming celebration. They were hunting for any kind of animals: rabbits, deer, and anything in between. So long they could transport it back, they were going to hunt it.
Tyelkormo only ever had to look down to see Huan, or to whistle and one of his adored hunting bird would come to him.
There were no questions about whether he’d be fine, or would come back at all. Indeed, it all seemed like fun and game to them. Nothing to worry about but perhaps bruises in case of clumsiness.
If he spent the night away without warning, it was just resulting in laughter and gentle teasing. How many times had he mysteriously disappeared already on other occasions? Skipping a courtly ball here, avoiding brother-sitting there…
Though the twins looked like they might enjoy going with him one of these days, much to Tyelkormo’s horror whenever it was mentioned.
And, sure, when he rode with Oromë, there was some danger, but the Vala was careful with his people, and if injuries happened, death had yet to be a threat the elves acknowledged or really faced for themselves.
* * * Flashback * * *
They had been so young at the time.
It’s without really noticing it that Maglor had started to drum the first notes of a sad melody.
Young, unafraid, arrogant dreamers, foolish and taking hope and happiness for granted, the lot of them.
And now…
Maglor’s eyes strayed back to his brother for a few moments…
These days, Tyelkormo still hunted. Still couldn’t stay in one place too long without starting to feel trapped…
But now he didn’t have all the hunters of the House of Fëanàro at his back, neither did he have the Hunters of Oromë as friends anymore. Indeed, these days, Celegorm and Curufin had lost most of their people…
Now if he didn’t come back one night it was ground for a panic.
Now every time Tyelkormo left the safety of whatever camp or settlement he had been in could be the last time anyone saw him alive. And Maglor couldn’t remember how many time their respective skills with Osanwë had been the only thing stopping them from sending search parties after one of their siblings.
Sadly, their use of it was limited these days. More limited than in their youth in blessed Valinor. Maedhros for one refused to use it overmuch, keeping his answer as short as possible in order to, in his words : “avoid sharing things that went better forgotten”. Celegorm also preferred to be brief, which rarely helped to alleviate their brothers’ worry.
Another difference was that Celegorm hunted for food yes, but rarely ever for feasts. Catching enough to survive was already a good thing in everyone’s opinion.
But he also hunted orcs, or whatever creature Morgoth sent on their lands, in order to both rid the land of their presence, and in search for any information that might be useful.
Gone was the carefree spirit. Now Celegorm was moving with a fierceness that he never had before, tense lines in his body, feeling like a storm cloud of anger all the time.
Now Huan had left them. Betrayed his master for the sake of Luthien. And oh, surely the dog had his reasons and sure, Maglor couldn’t blame him, or the girl, for wanting to escape, his brothers had simply lost their minds on that one, but…
Tyelkormo never said a word on that, but Maglor saw the pain of that betrayal in his eyes. Knew for a fact his brother had been sure Huan was gone and dead long before news of that death came to the rest of them.
Tyelkormo hadn’t even tried to get a hunting dog to replace those he had left behind in Nargothrond. Sure, he enjoyed working with those of the fortress of his brothers, but he never cared to try and get one for himself. Same for his birds.
The one on his hand was one that he had once gifted Maedhros, as a gift for Himring’s hunters and was getting old. Older than other hunters who worked with birds would appreciate at any rate. He still enjoyed taking care of the animals, and yet, refused to take one for himself, apart from his horse.
The more Maglor thought on it and watched him and the more it was becoming distressingly obvious to his eyes.
How long was it since he had seen his brother laugh or look relaxed even? Or even vaguely happy? Or at least, happy in a situation that didn’t involved hunting and killing as many creatures of Morgoth as possible?
It was like his brother was only still functioning out of anger and spite. Try as he might, Maglor didn’t understand why…
Alright, most things didn’t quite work out for them but still they were all alive and they had hope, which was more than could be said for many others out there.
A sudden movement at his side had Maglor look up from his harp:
“Mind playing something less depressing?” Asked Celegorm sitting next to his brother, careful of the bird on his arm, petting it gently.
That was the one thing that hadn’t changed. His gentleness with the animals he did have at his side, even if they weren’t his own.
“When will you get another?”
Celegorm shrugged at that, and Maglor sighed, but started playing another melody, more uplifting, for his brother.
If it wouldn’t give him hope back, or completely erase his ever-present anger, perhaps it’d at least alleviate some of the tenseness in him.
Oh all right, so perhaps he was fretting a tiny bit.
Thank you for reading