From good to bad by Aprilertuile

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Exile to Formenos


All truths be told, if some of his brothers and their father seemed to suffer to be in exile… Tyelkormo didn’t find it so bad. Tirion was a viper pit at the best of times, and the less time he had to spend there, the better he felt. 

Since none of the courtiers felt like speaking against their king, most of them were just useless spineless cowards unable to do their job properly. Honestly, Tyelkormo wished luck to his half uncles to deal with that one. Finwë had turned the court into a passive mockery of what court should be, in Tyelkormo’s opinion. 

Not that he’d voice it. His father would hit the roof if he did. For some reason, he was more and more paranoid and with little to no reason. 

He may have little social grace when compared to Makalaurë and Maitimo who were the darlings of anywhere they chose to go, but he wasn’t ignorant either, and so far a few rumours that could be quickly dispelled were nothing to fear. 

Well, to be fair, his father’s prediction had come to pass technically, but Tyelkormo wasn’t blind. If his father had been less ill-tempered, nothing would have happened at all. Nothing COULD have happened at all. Finwë did pass laws that ensured the court’s complete immobility after all. 

“So deep in thoughts, my little hunter.”

Tyelkormo smiled:

“Yes well… I’m just wondering how the diplomats of the family are going to manage to repair the situation this time around.”

“Oh? Not going to try it yourself?”

The blond elf snorted, turning toward Oromë: 

“No thank you. I lack tact and frankly everyone’s at fault here and everyone deserves a serious time out, starting with grand-father.”

“Strangely enough I doubt we can exile the whole royal family of the noldor.” Oromë commented wryly. 

“Pity that.”

Oromë smiled at that. He was well aware of his young hunter’s general opinion on the court and the noldor’s leadership.

“Would you really want everyone to come to Formenos?”

Tyelkormo’s eloquent grimace spoke for him. 

“By the way, isn’t Formenos a bit out of your usual way, my lord?” He asked, changing the subject from this vision of horror. 

“Just a step sideway to a Vala, my Tyelkormo. Not that big of a stretch to see a friend. How’s your father adjusting?”

“I do believe you forgot you were asking after my father. The elf who feels you lot wronged him by just generally existing in his vicinity.”

Oromë emitted a sound that meant everything and nothing and Tyelkormo sighed slightly. 

“Honestly, I’m more worried about the repercussions of Grand-Father’s actions. He should never have followed us here. Better that he stayed in Tirion.”

“Oh?”

“His coming confirmed Dad’s worst fears about his place in the line of succession, as if we need one of those anyway. We’re elves and on Valinor, and the chance of Finwë of all people abdicating is abysmally low, so his need of an heir is non-existent. If he had stayed in power in Tirion he could have just kept going as usual ignoring his councillors and the rest of the family while not filling any paperwork to change his heir. Instead he chose to show support to dad, and came… Leaving the crown to uncle Nolofinwë.” 

Oromë tilted his head sideways. 

“I would have thought he’d appreciate his father’s support.”

“He appreciates the support, but it does mean that uncle Nolo became the de facto available heir to the crown and king of the Noldor. Let’s just say that dad is not taking that well at all.”

“You elves are complicated.” Oromë complained. 

“Nah, it’s just the family that’s insanely stupid about stupid things.” Tyelkormo sighed. 

“You included?”

“Not about the crown or rank, as you well know. I have merely other interests to draw my ire.”

Oromë muttered something about elves of the line of Finwë, and the fair haired elf looked at him sideways: 

“I heard that!”

“You were meant to.”

They soon separated, Vala or not, Oromë did have duty and other people to see to, and if Tyelkormo came back home without the promised game or hunting plan, he knew he’d hear of it until… Oh, about the end of eternity or until he snapped and murdered his brothers. Accidentally of course.

It took not long, a few weeks no more, before Tyelkormo came to the conclusion that exile would be perfect if he was alone there. The fortress was a mess of tension, anger and suspicion. 

Sadly, the more he avoided the fortress out of desperation himself, the more his father was becoming suspicious about his absences as well. It was ridiculous; they were in FORMENOS in the middle of nowhere! It’s not like he could use his absence from the fortress to go to Tirion and… Somehow betray his father in some way!

He wasn’t even the one getting letters from that damn city! That was Maitimo and Makalaurë. 

And just because he was usually riding with Oromë’s hunters before this whole mess started didn’t mean that he went to find Him, or indeed would find Him even if he did look, every time he went out in the wild. They only met that one time for the love of…

It was overall pretty insulting to be treated with suspicion by his own father just because he kept to the rites and laws of the hunt taught by Oromë. It was good practice! What was he supposed to do? Become a less effective hunter just because their father decided that all Valar were a worthless species out to ruin his life? What would be the stupid point?!

Needless to say, more than once already, Maitimo and Finwë had had to separate his father and him during agitated disputes on the matter. Someone was going to die before the end of this if that continued. 


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