Act III, Part XIV: The Horse and the Whistle
In the year 3009 of the Third Age, a man entered the forest with a peculiar captive. He brought him to Thranduil’s halls, where Tinnurion had come to trade for some much-needed supplies. The captive he had brought looked unfavourable, almost orc-like, but smaller and frailer. Tinnurion pitied the creature almost instantly. It seemed much displeased to be there and clearly it had suffered much torment in its time before coming hither. But he mistrusted it too, for there was much evil intent in its eyes. They would lock him in the dungeons but would suffer him the occasional stroll in the woods under guard. He was allowed to climb trees, and often his gloaming eyes caught the light of the moon, glistening in the night.
Tinnurion returned homebound but was later related the news that the creature had escaped when the Elves were ambushed by orcs. To learn that orcs stalked the woods, was dire news, and Tinnurion was much afeared that orcs or other creatures would again discover his dwelling. He concealed his home as best he could, relying on growing things and stones from the mountains to hide it from unfriendly eyes.
One day he ventured westward to enjoy the starry horizon above the distant Hithaeglir, when from under the eaves of the forest he espied a lone horse grazing upon the grassy field. This was no horse of Beorn’s, for a chain still hung from its neck and it looked as if wounded. Tinnurion approached the horse and the animal became restless, but slowly he convinced it that he was no threat. The horse had a sort of charcoal hide and the chain about his neck looked of orc make.
'A thrall escaped, like me. Whatever has befallen you, I will amend it. Allow me to see to your wounds,' he said calmly to the horse. And the animal calmed down, offering his wounded neck. Tinnurion used what healing skills he possessed to mend its wounds and the horse was grateful.
'I hope I have earned your friendship, Mellon nin. You are free to go, but should I have need of you, will you come to mine aid?'
The horse neighed.
It was the start of an understanding between elf and beast, joined by the high tunes of a black whistle that Tinnurion made from dark walnut. In the coming years, Tinnurion came to rely upon the horse to carry him throughout Rhovanion. But he also loved to ride simply through the fields of the Vales at night, to feel the power of the wind.
In the year 3017 of the Third Age, he rode westward astride that very same horse because he ached to climb the Hithaeglir. Deep within the Misty Mountains he sojourned for a brief time in his old cave, tasting from fresh mountain springs, walking snowy paths under the stars. It was here that he had a chance meeting with a young dwarf named Fruni.
