#tm week

A painting for the first prompt of Tyelko and Timo week !

“This is ridiculous. How is he taller than me?!!”

“Jealousy is an ugly trait, little brother.”

In which Tyelko had a sudden rapid growth spurt that shocked even his father, and ‘Timo is *not* happy.

Welcome to the Tyelkormo & Maitimo Week!

Hello Silm fandom, and welcome to the first year of Tyelkormo and Maitimo Week, hosted by me, @tinwe-the-local-assassin and @sadtimo!

With the C&C and Fëanorians weeks being hosted by the amazing @curufiin and @feanorianweek , Sadtimo and I who have been RPing as Maitimo and Tyelkormo for two years and writing amazing stories involving these two brothers, realized we find their relationship extremely underrated, and they're not talked about enough.

So what better way to shine some light on them but by starting a fandom event?

This event will be kicked off from the 4th-10th of July, and we would love to have you all participate in this event to celebrate these two cute lil bros! 🥺

Now, much like any of the other events, the rules are quite simple:

Please be kind to each participant. Bullying ain't cool kiddos and will not be tolerated.

Writings, drawings, headcanons, moodboards and any other way you amazingly creative people can find to show your brilliant minds are part of this challenge. Go nuts!

Due to both @sadtimo and my own values, we will not be reblogging works containing sibling incest. Anyone is welcome to participate, and we both are thankful of you for respecting us as well.

Please be mindful of the tagging, tw needed, and don't forget to mention us in your posts.(The blog username, but we try to keep up with personal mentions too). And just to make sure it will show up, you can use the tag #tm week. We'll be checking whatever comes up on the feed.

The week is just a formality, so don't worry about submitting works after the deadline. We will be keeping up with them after the event is finished, and we will be giving shout-outs!

Prompts and themes are just there to give you ideas. You don't need to follow them if you don't want to. I personally never do because forcing myself to write/draw a certain topic can never come out like my own moments of inspirations.

Most importantly, just have fun!

Of The Arafinwian Hair Dye

For @tyelkoandtimo-week day 1

"You know, Tyelko?”

Tyelko looked up from his coloring to look at Findo, eyebrows raised in question, and Findo continued now that he had his attention.

“You could have been my brother, and no one would have doubted it.”

Findo was smiling. His cousin, though, not…so much. Findo's smile dropped as soon as he saw Tyelko's eyes being filled with tears. He scowled, dropped his head and almost fell down in his hurry to get off the chair and run out of Findo’s room.

He sat there, as Atya would call it, shell-shocked, and could barely move until he heard his emmë call his name with anger.

Findo gulped.

_____

“Care to explain what happened, Findaráto Ingoldo Arafinwion? Why did I just see your cousin whom you had begged to have a playdate with for days running to the garden crying?”

Findo dropped his gaze. So Tyelko was actually crying. But why? What had he said to set him off? And crying? Tyelko?

Tyelko would have been ripping him a new one if he had said something offensive, but crying? Tyelko didn't cry. He made people cry.

“I don't know, Emmë. I didn't think what I said could make him sad.”

Ëarwen simply raised an eyebrow, but some of the tension left her body. And she nodded when her son was brave enough to look her in the eyes.

Findo pouted but obliged.

“I told him…I told him people wouldn't doubt it if we told people he's my actual brother rather than …calling him brother because we're friends and family. Because his hair looks like yours.”

Findo watched his mother sigh in frustration and massage the bridge of her nose like she always did when she didn't know what to do. And for some reason, she looked sad.

Even though Emmë didn't look angry anymore, Findo somehow felt worse than he did before.

“Emmë? Did I say something wrong? I…I thought it would make him happy. Doesn't…doesn't he like me enough to be my brother?”

And now Findo felt like crying too. He liked Tyelko, and he had always imagined having an older brother like him. Yes, he wasn't that older than Findo. Less than two years, Emmë told him once. But Moryo was just a few months younger than him, and Tyelko protected and took care of him like he did with Curvo and Findo himself did with Arto and Ango. He eyed his emmë’s round belly. And like he would do for the future baby.

But what if Tyelko didn't love him that much? The thought hurt more than he imagined.

Ëarwen cooed at him before pulling him into her arms. Findo went gladly.

“I'm sure Tyelko likes you a lot too. And you didn't say anything wrong, love. You just reminded him of some mean words other, bad elflings like to tell him.”

Findo frowned. Other people being mean to Tyelko? Findo didn't like that at all.

“What kind of things?”

This, his mother did not answer.

“It’s not my place to tell you, my love.”

She stepped back, before reaching to hold his face and raise it so she could look him in the eyes.

“Go on, sweet one. Go get your cousin to come back. And if he feels like it, he will tell you all himself. Don't push it, though. He's been sad enough.”

Findo nodded seriously, mouth set in a firm line. He bolted out of the hall and towards the gardens, already shouting Tyelko's name.

“Tyelko! Cousin! Please, come out! I…I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you…”

He looked around the garden, from the rose bushes to the great willow tree by the eastern walls, and found no sign. He was reminded of how good Tyelko was at hide and seek, and how only Finno was able to find him the last time they played and only after five hours. Findo would never be able to find him on his own.

He pouted and sighed.

“Please, Tyelko. I didn't mean it like that…I …I just wished to have someone like you as my older brother. I don't know what those elflings have told you, but none of it is true! I promise! Can you come out, please? I feel really bad about it.”

Seconds passed with no sign of any movement, even as he turned around so he could look at all the possible hiding places.

He was starting to feel discouraged when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He jumped, not having expected the sudden touch, and turned around to find a teary eyed Tyelko. He was pouting, his fluffy bangs covering most of his eyes so he could hide the redness of them.

Without wasting a moment, Findo reached out and pulled him in for a hug. Tyelko loved hugs, even if he tried denying it at times. They always made him feel better about what he was sad about.

At first, Tyelko didn't hug him back, sniffling and burying his face in the crook of Findo's neck. But eventually, he too, raised his arms and held him.

“Do you feel better now?”

He felt him nod, and Findo reluctantly broke the embrace. They needed to talk.

Tyelko still looked a little snotty, so Findo reached into his pocket and took out his handkerchief. He held it in front of Tyelko's nose. Tyelko looked a little shocked at first. Probably had not expected Findo to carry handkerchiefs with himself like adults did. But he eventually caught on and blew his nose out.

Findo balled the dirty cloth and put it back in his pocket. He'd throw it into his laundry basket later.

“Can we talk about what happened? Why did you run out crying?”

Tyelko's eyes widened a little, and his pale cheeks reddened not so subtly. He looked down with a frown.

Findo bit his lip. He reached out to take a hold of Tyelko's hand and led him towards the shade of the nearest tree so they could sit.

Tyelko followed wordlessly and sat down next to him, pulling his knees to his chest.

None of them spoke for a while, enjoying the warmth of the late morning. Until Tyelko broke the silence.

“I heard…I heard some elflings in Haru’s court talking about me. About my hair…said it doesn’t look like my atya’s. Rihtarië said…said her mother had told her it’s because my atya isn’t really my atya. Said her emmë had told her that my emmë was infid…infidelity. I don’t know what that means, but it sounded mean. So I asked my haru Mahtan because I didn’t want my emme and atya to know. He got so angry that Haruni had to hold him so he could calm down. I still don’t know what it means, but it makes my haru angry and it means that my atya isn’t really my atya and it’s all because my hair looks like this! I…I hate it. I want black hair like my atya and Curvo, or even brown like Kano and Moryo. Just…just not this!”

He yelled, pulling at his hair harshly. Findo frowned and took the hand gripping the pale strands gently, pulling it away until Tyelko relented and let go.

He still looked sad though, Findo realized, his heart clenching.

He didn’t quite know what he could do to make it better. Could talking with the other elflings help? He knew he had a way with people and could often convince them to listen to him. but, he wasn’t sure how it could help. They had already said those words. Tyelko was hurt, and knowing him, he wasn’t going to forget them even if he forgave them. So what?

I want black hair like my atya and Curvo, or even brown like Kano and Moryo. Just…just not this!

Perhaps…

“What if you could change it?”

Findo heard a sniffle. He looked up and found his cousin looking at him. Tyelko’s eyes were wide, his brows drawing together as he frowned.

“But how?”

Findo hummed as he looked around. He hadn’t really thought about it, but how hard could it be? There must be some sort of paint or dye they could use. He looked down at his own brown shirt. It wasn’t always this color, surely. He had seen how people did it in Alqualonde, dyeing the silk threads in all the colors of the rainbow. But Tyelko didn’t want the colors of the rainbow. He wanted brown or black. What could they use?

Shadows of leaves moved upon the grass as Findo stared at the ground. He frowned and looked up. The light danced upon his face, and Findo smiled.

~~~

“Come on Findo! Tell me what happened. I promise I won’t be mad.”

Maitimo, despite his words, looked as livid as he could. And therefore Findo was convinced telling him anything was not a good idea. Which explained his silence as he stared at his own feet swinging back and forth.

Tyelko wasn’t crying anymore. He had wept and sobbed and sniffled on his brother’s shoulder until he had tired himself out and now slept in Maitimo’s arms. Findo wished to be held too, but he understood it was his own fault they had come to this, and so he had swallowed his tears until he didn’t feel like crying anymore.

“Findo? If you don’t talk I’m forced to ask your father to speak with you. Do you want him to find out?”

Findo gulped. No he did not. Atya always told Emmë everything, and he didn’t want them both to be mad at him on top of Nelyo and his parents. Possibly Haru and Haruni too.

“Tyelko wanted to change his hair. To be like Uncle Fëanáro or Kano and Moryo. So…I helped him?”

Finrod wasn’t quite sure where to look. At Nelyo’s tired face or his own sorry masterpiece that was Tyelko’s hair. The now pale orange strands glared at him. Findo looked away.

“You…what does that even mean? How did you help him?

And that he had an answer to.

“Are you sure this is going to work?”

Tyelko sounded skeptical. Findo brushed it off with a laugh as he crushed the boiled oak bark which was slowly forming a paste texture, getting ready to be put on Tyelko’s hair.

“Just trust me!”

Findo grimaced. Tyelko had indeed trusted him, and now they were in this mess.

“I made him a dye out of oak bark. I really thought it was going to work, Nelyo! I just didn’t use enough! If you just let me–”

“No!”

Findo looked down immediately. Right. He shouldn’t have said that.

“I'm very, very disappointed in you. I thought you knew compassion best out of all of our cousins, Findaráto. It is not Tyelko's fault he has white hair. And it is not a fault at all! He's perfect the way he is. You should have told him that instead of trying to fix his problem.”

Now, Findo really felt like crying too. It had not been what he had intended at all! He too thought his cousin was perfect the way he is. Yet, it had been what Tyelko had wished for. He wanted to change his hair color, and Findo had respected it and had tried to help him. Why was he being scolded now?

He sniffled quietly, swallowing down the sobs trying to escape his throat. He wasn't the one who's been wronged here. He shouldn't be crying.

Yet, he could not quite help his voice breaking when he explained things to Nelyo. He was forgiving. He would understand why Findo had done what he had done.

“I–I know! I love him–I love him the way he is too! But–but that's what he wanted! I– Findo just wanted to help!”

He whimpered, realizing he was starting to sound like a baby again. Even Arto didn't talk like that anymore.

He heard his cousin sigh, and he almost jumped when a warm hand landed on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. He looked up and through teary eyes, he found Maitimo looking at him with a gentle smile.

“I know, dear one. I know. But sometimes what people want is not really what they need. Say, if you had a stomach ache, and you wanted more candy, am I supposed to give you more candy or some medicine to relieve you from your pain?”

Findo sniffled and wiped his eyes, pouting. While he would have said candy in a heartbeat, he knew from experience what it did to elflings when one had too much too quickly. It was never worth the pain.

“...The medicine?”

He pulled a face when he said it, and Maitimo couldn't help but laugh.

“That is true. While Tyelko wanted you to help him fix something he didn't need fixing, it wasn't what he needed. He needed you to tell him that he should not think of what others said. And he needed you to tell him that he is beautiful the way he is, and that we all love him this way.”

Findo looked deep into the kind eyes of Maitimo and nodded.

Someone mewled. Findo looked up, watching as Tyelko’s eyebrows drew together. His eyelids fluttered, his white lashes sticking together from all the crying. He slowly opened his eyes. Maitimo held him tighter as his lips trembled, and shushed him before he could start crying again.

“Hush now! You have cried enough. There is no need for more tears.”

Tyelko sniffled but bit his lips to stop himself from crying. He grasped his brother's collar to pull himself up in his lap. Findo grimaced, seeing his peach colored hair falling and framing his face again.

“But…my hair–”

“You know what Atya would say. Don't do something if you are going to cry about it later. It is your mistake, and you should own it and try to redeem it. You have hurt yourself this time, Tyelko. Do you know how you should apologize to yourself?”

Tyelko’s frown deepened. He shook his head. Findo didn't blame him. He was just as confused. How did one apologize to oneself?

Maitimo, though, appeared a little smug.

“No worries, then. I will show you how.”

~~~

“What are we doing here, Timo?”

Tyelko asked, holding onto Nelyo's hand tightly as they walked towards somewhere in the forest behind Uncle Fëanáro's estate. Findo had never been here before, and he could understand why he rarely found his half-cousins in the public parks of Tirion. Who would go there, when they could play in such a magical place?

Maitimo stopped, and Findo barely held himself to not collide with his back. He took a step back and rounded him, listening to the trees sing their songs. He did not understand what they wished to share, but he found their voices melodical nonetheless.

“Can you call upon Ninquë?”

Findo frowned. Who was that?

Tyelko looked confused too, but for completely different reasons.

“Why do you need her?”

Did Tyelko knew who Ninquë was?

“Just do as I say. You will know soon enough.”

Tyelko still looked confused. He sighed, appearing defeated. He took a few steps away from them, breathed in, before letting out a loud caw.

Findo jumped despite himself, not having expected it at all. He stood silent for a moment, but before he could open his mouth to speak, a flash of white passed by him, flew over their heads before finally landing on Tyelko's outstretched arm.

Tyelko smiled and gently scratched the white crow’s head, greeting it like an old friend. The crow, too, cawed and then bowed in greeting.

“Well, she is here. What did you want to say?”

Tyelko finally tore his eye away from his friend to address his brother. Findo took a moment to remember their reason for being there at all.

He looked at Maitimo, and found him watching Tyelko with a raised eyebrow and a smile.

“Tyelko, do you think Ninquë isn't her parents' chick because she does not share their coloring?”

Tyelko gasped, offended. He threw a worried glance at Ninquë. She didn't seem to have understood Nelyo's words.

“Of course not! Why would you say that, Timo?! It's so rude!”

Findo…Findo understood.

“Well, if you don't, why do you think you're not Atya's son like us when you clearly are?”

Tyelko's jaw was hanging open and Findo…

he was impressed. Maitimo knew his little brother so well that he also knew the only to get through his stubbornness sometimes was just to let him find the answers in his own tongue.

“Weren't you the one who convinced the rest of the murder to accept Ninquë between them? I remember you saying you told the leader how Ninquë was no different from them just because she was white. You told them to love her just the way she is because Eru had meant it for her to look like this. So why can't Eru have meant for you to look like this too? Why can't you accept that you are as much of a son of Fëanáro as the rest of us, even if you look different?”

Tyelko…he was crying again. But this time, silently. As if his mind had yet to process the information through his shock.

Findo…well, he was crying too. But just because he thought this moment was too beautiful, and it deserved some tears.

It was beautiful to think Eru had used Findo to convince Tyelko to love himself. It was beautiful that this crow who, much like Tyelko had helped her once, was the one helping him understand how perfect he was.

It was just, beautiful. Eru was beautiful.

Ninquë cawed, this time more quietly. Tyelko laughed, through his tears. Nelyo chuckled, and Findo smiled.

Written for day 1 of @tyelkoandtimo-week with the prompt "Before the Darkness Came". I'm a little late because I've had to work but I wanted to post something anyway.

I felt like their relationship when Celegorm was little would have been akin to the DW meme where she's staring up at the sign and saying "that can't stop me, I can't read" so here's that but Sons of Feanor style.

Pairing: Gen, Maedhros and Celegorm as brothers Rated: T Tags: Fluff, Humor, Pre-Doom, Maedhros is a good big brother, Little Celegorm, Celegorm is a chaos child, Brotherly Escapades

There were several signs on the door to Maedhros’ room. They very clearly proclaimed that anyone wishing to enter should knock first, that no animals (he meant anything alive and moving- yes, worms and beetles absolutely counted) were to be brought into his chamber, and that boots were to be left on the rack he’d so thoughtfully placed outside the door, in an effort to prevent his room from turning into a muddy disaster.

None of these signs, of course, did a damn thing to stop Tyelko.

I wrote this yesterday at an Insta-drabbling session on the SWG Discord.

It is is 100 words of Celegorm thinking about Maedhros and the Oath.

I think it probably needs more work and/or a continuation, but there is a strong chance that I may not manage to do either of these while Tyelkormo and Maitimo Week is still running.

So posting this now, @tyelkoandtimo-week

When I was knee-high to you, I was always accepting the wrong dares, getting into trouble stuck up trees and down pits, but you always came to fetch me. And when I was older and strayed farther, still I could send Huan for you, still you came.

After supper, the family took to some card games and word games. Maitimo didn’t entirely feel like watching Fëanáro practically tear out Uncle Nolo’s throat for the sake of his fierce competition over these things—especially since Fëanáro had invented most of these word games—and besides, Maitimo’s weariness was catching up with him after several short nights of sleep. Since his brothers especially needed some extra cuddles while staying at an unfamiliar house, Maitimo certainly wasn’t about to lock them out, so he anticipated his usual wake-up ceremony from Tyelko and the twins before Laurelin’s first light. This way, at least he had a chance of catching up on some sleep.

Lost in his own thoughts, he stumbled into his dark guest room… and then he yelped as something heavy knocked him to the floor. A pair of warm hands closed around his wrists and pulled them behind his back, and somebody slipped a black cloth around his eyes. Three pairs of arms then hoisted him up and onto a chair, and then bound his wrists with rope.

Maitimo sighed. Another interrogation.

“Nelyafinwë,” said the cool voice of Curufinwë, “your behavior as of late has been suspicious. It is not typical for you to disappear during midday meal, since it is the most active time of day for the household. And we know you didn’t really get mushroom poisoning. We have determined you were up to something, and we find Kanafinwë’s excuse for you to be logically unsound.”

“Right,” Tyelko piped up. “First of all, there’s no mushroom I know of that causes sickness for exactly two hours. Second of all, you’re the one who taught me this, and you even stop me from trying the hallucinatory ones when we’re out camping.”

Curvo gave a hum of agreement. “We find it insulting to our intelligence to believe you could be so stupid all of a sudden.”

“So, what do you have to say for yourself?” Carnistir demanded. Maitimo could vaguely make out the orange glow of a lantern behind the blackness of the blindfold.

Curvo sighed in annoyance. “You were supposed to whip off the blindfold first and then shine the lantern in his face, Moryo.”

“Oh. Right,” Moryo said softly and sheepishly. “Should I do it now?”

“No! Not now that he knows the tactic! Just forget it.”

Though Curufinwë was the youngest of the three, a mere child nowhere near adolescence, he was the most calculated of the bunch and formed most of their plans.

“I’m very impressed with your intimidation tactics,” Maitimo told them. “Much improved since last time. But I will never talk.”

There was a long, drawn out silence before Carnistir growled, “Wrong answer.”

Maitimo heard some more shuffling movement before a cupful of ice-cold water splatted onto his lap, and he yelped.

“Feel that?” said Tyelko. “There’s a lot more where that came from. How would you like it if one of your pretty new curls took that?”

Maitimo cringed, but gritted his teeth and said nothing. Joke’s on you, he thought. Aranya can do my hair like that again tomorrow, suckers. The most unpleasant part would be enduring the icy temperature of the water, but he’d endure it for the sake of protecting the lady’s identity.

“You rascals are going to ruin Uncle Nolo’s furniture, and he’s not going to be happy about it,” he said dully.

“You really think we’re going to dump a bucket on you or something?” Curvo huffed in annoyance. “Come on, Nelyo, we’re not stupid. No. All we have to do is dip your hair in the bucket, one curly lock at a time, if and until you talk.”

“Which I won’t, so you might as well not waste your time.”

There was another tense silence before Curufinwë said coldly, “So be it.”

At least the brothers spoke the truth in that they didn’t dump their bucket of cold water right on Maitimo’s head. Maitimo felt them grab one of the locks, and then he felt a couple of cold droplets on his shoulder and chest. Tyelko took off the blindfold long enough for Maitimo to see the sad, limp lock, and then he replaced the blindfold.

“Any change of heart?” Tyelko asked.

Maitimo shook his head, refusing to say another word.

So the brothers continued to soak his hair in the cold water one lock at a time, continually probing him with questions, but he refused to answer any of them. It wasn’t long before he began to shiver as the wet hair clung to his chest and back, and by the time the brothers were done, his teeth were chattering. But his lips remained sealed.

The three brothers exchanged an unnerved glance. Normally, Maitimo readily told them whatever he was up to, sometimes even spoiling surprises he planned for their begetting days. And their ruining his hairstyle was perhaps the meanest and most unpleasant thing they’d done so far, yet he still wouldn’t talk.

“Clearly I’m not going to tell you anything,” Maitimo said between shivers. “Can you leave me alone now and let me clean up? And warm up?”

The brothers whispered to each other before Curvo muttered, “I suppose.”

Was it just Maitimo’s imagination, or was that a twinge of guilt in his voice?

The brothers removed his blindfold and untied his wrists. Tyelko, avoiding Maitimo’s gaze, handed him a dry towel. Maitimo sighed with annoyance, squeezing the water out of his hair as his brothers all silently filed out of the room.

“What was that?” Moryo whispered as they walked down the hallway. “Normally he lets us practice our tactics at first, and he puts on a stubborn show of resistance before eventually talking. Why didn’t he talk this time? It must be serious.”

“I think… I think it’s a girl,” Tyelko said, his voice and eyes somber.

Moryo and Curvo scoffed at him, but he continued, “Think about it! We all know he acts strangely around níssi. It has to be the only explanation. Besides,” he lowered his voice and grinned widely, “I think I know who it is. I saw him, yesterday, become an absolute awkward wreck in front of somebody.”

“Well then,” said Curvo, “there’s only one way to find out for sure.”

~~~

Rating: G

Pairings: None.

Summary: A brother’s love, and a gift.

———

To the Crown Prince of the Crown Prince, Nelyafinwë Maitimo.

Please follow the hyena. I have a query regarding your brother.

Oromë.

To say Maitimo was concerned was an understatement.

Tyelkormo was a free spirit at the best of times, and the House of Fëanaro had come to the consensus that learning under Orome would be a good outlet for the young prince, so often stifled by court traditions and royal politics. It wasn’t that Tyelko didn’t have the brains or charisma for it, rather the opposite. His mind was so active, so alert, that within a few months he had clocked the courtiers to be wary of, who to watch, who could be an ally… and who could most easily be manipulated.

Between him and Makalaurë, Maitimo had his hands full. But Laurë soon found a new hobby learning sea music from the Teleri, and only last month, Tyelko had been personally scouted by Oromë.

For Maitimo to now receive a personal summons by the Vala did not bode well.

The hyena, most likely a Maia of some sort, or a personal companion of the Valar, waited patiently. The redhead had never been so unnerved.

“Please lead on?”

Bowing it’s head, the animal led the way to the wild forests of Aman.

Sighing, Maitimo silently hoped the Maia had the consideration to remember elves did in fact need rest, food, and sleep. He had often found himself the… middle-elf of sorts between the Valar and his father, a role inherited from his mother and encouraged by his grandfather, and was familiar with the likes of Nienna and Irmo. Both meant well, but after the fourth three-day trip with a translucent waif of a Maia sprinting through trees and rocks, he had firmly told them if they didn’t inform their guides on the needs of a living, breathing creature, he would no longer be able to play this role.

Turned out Nienna had warned her brother of this. He, being a little brother, hadn’t taken her seriously.

It had been an eye opener to the workings of these great beings, and Maitimo found himself losing much of the trepidation these trips entailed.

He was in luck this time. Oromë’s meeting spot was only a few hours from the palace, and the hyena had been happy to take a few breaks on the way so Maitimo could eat, drink, and find some shade as the day grew hotter.

___

Oromë, according to Tyelkormo, was wild as the creatures he hunted.

The Vala rarely stuck to one form, often an amalgamation of animals with a few near disturbing elf-like additions. He had an elven form… of sorts. But he didn’t like it. As it were, he must have been feeling generous today, sticking with an elven body, a bone mask of some carnivorous animal Tyelko would no doubt be able to name and list several fact about, and was draped in furs and wraps across his body.

He nodded at Maitimo as the redhead approached, leaping down from the top of the tree with a loud thump, then rubbing the hyena’s head. The animal shook itself off and bounded into the forest with a high pitched shriek.

Huh, maybe it was just an animal…

“Apologies for short notice, young Prince, but I found myself struck with an unexpected deadline.”

The bad feeling in Maitimo’s chest intensified.

Tell me you didn’t Tyelko…

“Tyelkormo has proven to be an… unexpected challenge. And while I welcome any challenge, this one is more difficult than anticipated. I require some clarification.”

The Prince found himself aware of every breath. Every shift of the branches, the whispers of the wind.

Little brother, what have you done.

Bowing low, Maitimo felt more than heard a grieved hum reverberating through the ground and found himself stumbling, only sheer force of will keeping him upright.

“Please, there is no need for these formalities, Nelyafinwë.”

The Hunter was said to be attuned to emotions. Perhaps he was trying to ease the blow-

“My Lord, please-“

“Oromë is fine.”

“…Oromë. Please. If Tyelko has done anything, please tell me what I can do. I know he can be… difficult… and he struggles to still his mind, but he loves the Hunt and he loves learning from you. If there are reparations to be made, offences to be soothed, I will personally handle it.”

Maitimo pushed down his panic at the blank mask watching him, determined to keep composure. To sound like his grandfather assured as he hammered out a new trade deal with Olwë. The gentle determination as he soothed ruffled feathers when Fëanaro once again insulted the Vanyar’s royal family.

“I will bear the consequences, but do not take Tyelkormo off your Hunt-“

A scream cut him off.

The Prince fell into a low crouch, eyes darting left and right as the screaming got louder and louder, threatening to deafen him even as he covered his ears. It was only when a heavy hand landed on his shoulder that he realised it was coming from the Vala himself.

Oromë was laughing.

Maitimo soon found himself standing a little awkwardly as he calmed and took off his bone mask to reveal black and brown eyes, dark brown skin, and white teeth pulled into a wide grin.

“With a brother like you, it’s no wonder Tyelkormo is so fearless.”

He chuckled again as Maitimo’s ears went red. But he wouldn’t be distracted by praises, not when his little brother’s future was at risk. Oromë lifted a hand before he could say anything, black eyes creased.

“Be at ease, young prince, I have no intention to get rid of my best hunter. Rather the opposite.” The Vala called out a low whistle, and several animals walked out the forest: a horse, a lion, an elk, a fox, and a large hound. “I wanted to give him a gift.” He cocked his head. “And I think you’ve just answered my question.”

Maitimo reddened further as Oromë nodded at him, respect in ancient eyes.

“Loyalty begets loyalty. Huan will be well suited to a group of brothers who love each other enough to bargain with the Valar.” Oromë waved a hand, and all but the hound faded into the darkness. “What say you, my friend?”

A loud woof shook the ground.

“Then I think our first order of business should be returning our hunter’s older brother home.”

____

Two days later, when Tyelko came home with an enormous hound, proudly declaring his name was Huan, he was a gift from Oromë, and he would grow even bigger-

Maitimo walked in to a blur of silver and a bone-crushing hug.

“Oromë told me everything, ‘timo. Thank you.”

He squeezed back just as hard.

“Anything for my little brother.”

————

Old concept art for the vibes :)