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    Summary

    His father was gone; he had burned alive in his arms as he breathed his final oath of hatred against Morgoth, but Morgoth hadn't been satisfied with that.
    He had taken Curufin and, still obsessed with Fëanor, had made him his new plaything.

    Every day Curufin was called Fëanor, forced to exist as a substitute for a father who was no longer there – but hadn't he always been that, his father's shadow? –, he had to hear Melkor's cruel, disgusting laughter, the way his rough hands touched his body, and be tortured in ways he had never thought possible before.
    He had expected to die much sooner, but Curufin had apparently underestimated the resilience of elven bodies.

    Or perhaps it was simply his father's eternal fire that kept him alive.

    Or perhaps his only purpose was to be a second Fëanor, and as such he still had to live.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    3,982
    Chapters:
    1/3
    Comments:
    2
    Kudos:
    8
    Bookmarks:
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