Tyelkormo's Great Escape by Aprilertuile

The first part of the journey

Riding up north had been particularly calm. Tyelkormo didn’t cross paths with anyone of note, didn’t meet with any animal that’d force him to call on Oromë, didn’t have to make a detour due to the weather…

If he didn’t know any better, he’d think the Valar were helping his escape from the awful matchmaking of his mother.

However, he did know better. The Valar had better to do with their time than to poke their metaphorical noses into the personal lives of the Elves.

As usual when he was traveling, Tyelkormo made notes in a notebook of what he found and what path he was taking.

It was a habit he got from his father. As Fëanáro said often during their family travels in his childhood: ‘What’s the point of picking up samples of materials to test at home if it’s to forget where exactly you picked it up and how to access the place in the case of rough terrain?’

Unless Tyelkormo was mistaken, all the family had the same habit of keeping a journal of a sort when they travelled throughout Valinor by now, even if most of them weren’t picking up random samples of things, but just wandering for the sake of it, it was a habit. Their library was full of their traveling journals.

Since the winter weather was felt more strongly here, he was starting to wear his winter hunting gear, and added the second, warmer, blanket on the horse when they stopped to rest. The travel bread was handy to have: a couple of bites would sustain him as long as a full meal would.

Oromë had warned all his hunters to not live off of travel bread all year round but it’d be fine for one season if it came down to that.

He had no doubt that by now both his parents had realized that he had escaped home, but… Oh well, it wasn’t the first time someone in the family just left without a warning. Granted, it usually was their father or Makalaurë on a fit of inspiration, and it was the first time he did disappear without a warning but… 

He hoped that his siblings wouldn’t have troubles for the help they gave him in escaping home.

Upon a moment of rest in the journey, Tyelkormo was sitting on the cold grass, looking at his horse who was swearing up a storm about the cold and the taste of frozen grass and the wind and…:

“You know, I think I’ll have to find you a stable where you’ll be able to spend the rest of the winter until I come and pick you up again. You will absolutely hate where I plan on going and honestly if the weather turns to snow in that area like it usually does, I’ll have trouble feeding you anyway…” Tyelkormo mused for his horse that, frankly, didn’t look like it was paying him any attention, too busy swearing with such a vocabulary that Tyelkormo never knew his lovely mare even had.

He’ll blame Makalaurë’s mouthy stallion for that one.

Tyelkormo sighed and let himself fall on his back, watching the sky and the clouds that were dancing on the wind overhead.

“And now I’m talking in Quenya to my horse like she’ll understand that. Great. I escaped too late: Mom did turn me insane.”

There was the cry of an eagle in the far distance, and Tyelkormo’s eyes turned toward the sound, catching the sight of one of Manwë’s giant birds.

Tyelkormo idly contemplated whether or not he wanted to plan a detour toward Manwë’s eagle nests to see if they had babies or not, but he quickly decided that he didn’t want, nor need, to make such a detour.

There was no bigger gossip in the world than birds. Gossip went fast, more so on wings. He refused to make it easy for his mother to find him this season.

There were things to terrible to contemplate out there, and his mother finding him in time to harass him about his supposed need to find a good wife was one such thing. There was truly no escaping the feeling of dread that came over him at the idea, and he had no will to try and work on that side of his being.

If only she was clever about it and looked toward the members of the Hunt to make the idea just a bit more palatable! but no, she was certain he’d find a good match at the palace of Tirion: In the one place in all of Valinor that he avoided cheerfully since early childhood without a fail.

The previous year he even went to Valmar more often than in the palace of Tirion!

Tyelkormo shook his head, and turned his thoughts back on his journey.

If he wanted to leave his horse somewhere safe, he needed to stop at the next village over, see if they’d agree to keep his horse in exchange for money. Perhaps he should have left his horse at the palace of Tirion. But that’d have taken the risk of his father finding him and getting the whole story of what he was doing here and that was a big no.

Only two days of travel and he’d get to the next village. The place was always darker and colder than Tirion but the elves living there didn’t seem bothered by this.