The start of a beautiful friendship by Aprilertuile

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The first Hunt

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A season and a half had come and gone, with Tyelkormo integrated to the hunt. He learnt quickly, all sorts of things, from hunting methods to Songs of Power, and the hunters learnt to ignore fast the younger elf’s habit to disappear at the end of the day. It seemed to amuse Oromë and his maiar but all of them were silent about what was going on.

If it amused them, it couldn’t be dangerous, surely. 

However that day, Oromë summoned all his hunters. There was a hunt. Giant spiders found south of Aman, they would need to all go to get rid of the pests. 

The plan was simple :

Some of the hounds would play bait, and attract the spiders away from their lair. The spiders were clever enough to avoid the maiar usually, but the hounds didn’t have that presence that drove the spiders away, and they had better speed than elves to escape. Once the spiders would be dealt with, a team would go, mainly maiar, to burn down the nest. 

All the Hunt would go. Tyelkormo included. It would be the first time Tyelkormo would join the hunt for such a challenging task. 

Granted, his task was to stay behind Yarlossë and to fire his arrow at whatever he could reach without endangering the Hounds or himself. And as he was told, it was better to not fire an arrow at all, than to throw one and hit one of Oromë’s creatures. He was told that three times. By three different people. Tilion yes, and two other hunters. 

Every time Tyelkormo nodded. 

At the moment they all departed, Yarlossë turned toward Tyelkormo with amusement: “Do I need to say it?”

“I will not fire an arrow if there’s a chance, however small I might think it is, that I’ll hit one of the hounds or maiar of our lord.”

“Thanks.”

“All that caution and repetition is only making me wonder what kind of idiots you lot tried to teach in the past, you realise that, right?” Tyelkormo said in a flat voice.

“One of these days, ask me to tell you the tales.”

The ‘if you’re indeed not that much of an idiot and survive this encounter’ went unsaid but well understood and Tyelkormo nodded. 

That utter lack of trust was grating but he could be patient for things that mattered to him. 

They crossed Oromë’s Woods to get to the place they’d set up the ambush. And Tyelkormo upon arrival took a good look at the place. 

It was pretty. Darker than most of Valinor, as if the light of the Trees didn’t quite reach through Oromë’s domain, though not as dark as the mountains of the north so there was that. 

The place looked to be damaged. Sharp, stone making up the landscape farther away, rather than the rich trees and vegetation Tyelkormo was used to. 

Oromë’s hounds started to run toward a point in the distance, while the hunters and maiar set up. 

Yarlossë settled at the edge of the Forest, with a couple of others, and Tyelkormo followed suit:

“Whatever happens, do not move from this place unless we’re overrun.”

“Got it.” Tyelkormo answered. 

Really, the other hunter’s endless repetitions were getting annoying here. Worse than his brother in a fit of difficult song-writing. 

He nevertheless settled in silence, willing to prove his worth instead of complaining about the lack of trust of the hunters around him. 

This being said, Tyelkormo was starting to think they had met some pretty stupid and reckless people in the past to have gotten this annoying about following commands. 

“Remember, do not attack if you don’t have a clear shot. Don’t take risks. Be here as a silent watcher if you are unsure.” Yarlossë told him. 

Oh, if he heard that one more time, he was going to do something silently, yes. Like putting sand in Yarlossë’s soap when they’ll get back to a safe area.

‘ Avoid that. Soap can be precious.’ Came into his mind, strangely with the voice of Oromë. 

Fine, he’d find something else. He had siblings, he was used to pulling harmless pranks on them, he’d find something that would be no bother to anyone but Yarlossë, and so without risking his health. 

There was a faint distracted sense of amusement against his mind, and Tyelkormo’s attention went back to the distance, trying to see. 

But of course, those things took time and there was nothing to see yet. 

Little by little an expectant silence fell into the group, no one speaking, no one moving, just waiting, breathing together, all turned toward the horizon. 

And there, Tyelkormo straightened, hands on his bow, as he saw a dark mass approach in the distance, and he could soon make over shapes. 

The hounds were looking harassed. They were fast, but he could swear they gave the impression of not being quite fast enough to avoid all trouble. Was it real or to the benefit of the spiders, to encourage them to follow, Tyelkormo wasn’t yet knowledgeable enough to know that answer. 

He saw the hunters around stay unmoving until the spiders came close enough to shoot with some success, and the first to fire were the maiar, who were on another level of skill altogether. 

Tyelkormo waited a bit. He was pretty sure he could have hit one of the spiders early on, but the fight was a mess, the spiders were faster than he’d have guessed, and he needed to see them move, to see their reaction time, before he made any sort of judgement. He’d feel too stupid firing an arrow only for his prey to avoid it and for the arrow to hit a hound. 

So he waited. 

And damn, the spiders were fast to say the largest was easily thrice the size of Nahar. And its attention seemed to be on one of the hounds that… 

That was the hound Tyelkormo met regularly. 

And the hound seemed to be not fast enough . 

There was blood on the clear fur of the dog, and considering the redness of the blood, Tyelkormo was quite sure it wasn’t the far darker blood of the spiders. Tyelkormo may not have had any experience hunting those creature, he may have fell not a single one, he may have not fired a single arrow yet, but he felt his blood freeze in his vein when he saw the hound falter and miss a step, when he saw the spider going for the kill… 

Tyelkormo straightened up, a hand thrown toward the spider, all his attention on it, all his desire to protect the hound focused on the song of power that Yarlossë had taught him. One that would connect him to any animal. 

The creature’s will felt single-minded toward killing the dog, food, and Tyelkormo pushed his own will toward it, against it. 

The spider faltered, stopped just a hand length away from the hound. 

Tyelkormo pushed, and pushed again, bow forgotten, all his attention focused on pushing the creature away . Turning its attention away. The hound was not food!

The spider took a step back. And then another. Shivered, fighting the elf’s will, and Tyelkormo felt dizzy for a moment, but he. Would. Not. Let. Go. 

Tyelkormo felt it the moment a formidable arrow pierced the giant spider’s skin and he fell back against the tree behind him, and threw up against its root, realising only when he was done throwing up that someone, not Yarlossë, was holding his hair back and helping him to stand. 

He was grateful for that. He didn't relish the idea of falling on his face.