Celebrimbor was sitting beneath a golden stone wall with his little toolkit spread around him, carefully hammering a crooked silver flower into shape, when the voices started again.
“He came to Middle-earth with the burners of the ships!”
Celebrimbor ignored them.
“He is the mad king’s grandson!”
Three elflings stood there, all older than him by at least a few years. One had his hands on his hips in dreadful confidence.
Celebrimbor narrowed his eyes.
“My grandfather was not mad!” he said sharply. “He was the greatest elf who ever lived!”
Another piped up, “My atar says all the sons of Fëanor are evil elves.”
Celebrimbor stared at them for a long moment.
Then, very slowly, he stood up.
Celebrimbor was smaller than them, with ink stains on his sleeves and silver filings in his hair. But Curufin had taught him never to bow his head in shame.
Celebrimbor dusted off his silk tunic with dignity.
“You will regret saying such things,” he informed them.
The children rolled their eyes.
Celebrimbor lowered his voice dramatically.
“My uncle Tyelkormo will hear of it.”
Even among elflings, the name carried weight.
One child frowned uncertainly. “Tyelkormo The Fair?”
“Tyelkormo. The Cruel Hunter.” said Celebrimbor.
“He hates elflings, except me.”
The oldest child laughed nervously. “You are lying.”
Celebrimbor’s face became grave.
“No. My uncle talks to beasts and once ripped the heart out of an orc with his bare hands.”
All three children stared at him.
“He hunts the forests every night,” he continued darkly. “And sometimes he finds children wandering alone.”
One of the younger elflings took a frightened step backward.
Celebrimbor pressed onward mercilessly.
“He ties them to trees so the wolves can devour them.”
“Oh,” whispered one child.
“Yes,” said Celebrimbor. “And he has an enormous hound that eats people.”
“It is. Huan is as big as a horse, and he only eats elflings, except me!” Celebrimbor added. “And Uncle Tyelko says frightened children taste much better.”
At this point, one of the elflings actually looked ready to faint.
The oldest tried desperately to recover. “W-well—my atar says Tyelkormo lives far away!”
Celebrimbor smiled pleasantly.
“Lies. If my atto is nearby, Uncle Tyelko is too. They are best friends.”
Absolute horror descended upon their faces.
“And,” Celebrimbor continued, enjoying himself immensely now, “I shall tell him exactly what you said about my grandfather. His father.”
The smallest child burst into tears instantly.
“I do not want the horse-dog to eat me!”
The others panicked at once.
“He is gonna leave us in the forest to die!”
And suddenly, all three fled across the courtyard screaming.
Celebrimbor watched them go.
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