The pain was too much and he couldn't bear it.
There was no pain he had experienced before that was as bad as right now, and he had started to regret going into hiding. But, it was too late now, much too late. He couldn't even move from the makeshift bed.
No-one had even known he had kept the child, not after he had declared that he couldn't keep them. Not even Tyelko had seen through his lies, and now Curufin was regretting that he had kept everything hidden.
A pained scream was ripped from the elf's lips as a fresh wave of contractions hit him, and he covered his mouth, tears coming to his eyes. This was agony, and amongst his pain-addled thoughts, there was a flash of respect for his mother, which brought some comfort.
If his mother could do this six times, then he could surely do it just this once.
He could feel the blood trailing down his legs as he shifted and he moved to remove his pants, trying to settle himself down in a position that could help take even a small edge off of the pain from the contractions. But as time went on, the pain only increased and he clawed at the bedsheets.
When his body wanted to push, he did so, though he was panicking. He'd never done this before, how did he even expect to do this, especially when he was all alone?! He was crying, trying to take deep, slow breathes. He had to do this, he needed to get this over with.
It was several hours later before he could feel any progress. Giving soft pants, he stretched his neck slightly to try and see what was happening. Giving a slight frown at the bloodied mess, he gave a gasp as he could just about see the child's head.
Leaning back, he kept his breathing as steady as possible, though his mind was going dull from the pain and exhaustion. It was another couple of hours before the head was born and then the body.
Curufin collapsed on the bed, panting softly. But, there was still a little more to go and he had to birth the placenta. He was exhausted, more exhausted than he had ever known and he could smell all of the blood… his lower half and the sheets underneath him were like a scene of massacre.
He reached for the child carefully, giving a slight groan as his body protested. There was too much blood lost, and he hadn't managed the pain very well. But he had to get at the child, to make sure he was alright. Ignoring his own state, he moved to grab some clean sheets, using one to clean off the blood and other fluids from the newborn, who started to cry softly.
It was a little boy.
Wrapping the child in the other clean sheet, he held his son close, though he could feel his legs giving way. Placing the child down before he collapsed, his breathing had become ragged, dizziness taking over him. Something was wrong and he could barely even croak out any cries for help before his voice cracked.
Reaching for his newborn son, he held him gently, close to his chest.
"Hello…?"
Curufin frowned slightly as he heard the voice, and the creaking of the door. He couldn't even make out the other's face, he could feel his mind going blank as blackness claimed his vision. But, he mouthed out a plead for help before he lost consciousness.
When Curufin awoke, he was in a soft bed, seemingly alone. Sitting up suddenly, he gave a sharp cry of pain and he felt himself get pushed back down.
"What were you thinking, cousin?"
He frowned slightly as he saw Turgon sat by his side. Why was he in Fingolfin's home? How did he get here? Last thing he remembered was someone finding him in that room, with his son…
Slowly heaving himself up, he tried to stand, growling at his cousin as he was made to lay back down. "Let me go, Turukano. And where is my son!"
"He's being cared for," He stated calmly. "And he's fine. It's you who was in a worse state. What were you thinking? I thought you'd stay near your brothers before doing something stupid like this."
"That's none of your business!"
"It is if you are near my Father's home and almost dying on us. You were out for almost twenty-four hours," Turgon crossed his arms over his chest as he watched the younger elf.
Curufin just rolled his eyes. "Well, I feel fine. So let me go and I shall take my son and return to my own place," Standing up again, he stumbled slightly, Turgon moving forwards to push him back in bed.
"Just stay still, Curufinwe," Turgon just sighed, watching his cousin calmly.
"Why are you keeping me here? Just wait until my father knows you're holding me against my will!"
Turgon snorted. "You're in no condition to start saying that. When I found you, it looked like a bloodbath. Plus, your family has been looking for you for months."
Curufin just rolled his eyes. He soon glanced up as he heard the door to the room opening, revealing Fingolfin. The newborn elf was cradled in the older elf's arms, and Fingolfin looked relieved to see his nephew was awake.
Curufin gave a longing glance to the baby. He wanted his child back in his arms, he hadn't even gotten a proper chance to hold him. Not to mention he felt uneasy at being in his uncle's home, especially if his father was searching for him.
"You gave us all quite a scare," Fingolfin moved to stand by the bed, the newborn giving a soft whine. "We have had to inform your father where you are. He was… very worried about you. Apparently you've been gone for a lot of months."
Curufin just sighed. "It doesn't matter," He murmured, staring at his son and holding out his arms. "Can I hold my son now? Or are you going to keep interrogating me?"
Fingolfin looked surprised, but he placed the baby boy in Curufin's arms. Curufin cradled the newborn to his chest protectively, giving a light sigh. "So, when is my father coming for me-" His question trailed off as he heard the sounds of yelling from down the corridor, Feanor bursting into the room.
"Nolofinwe you bastard! Where is my son- oh," He stared at Curufin, and the child in his son's arms. "Oh, there you are… I've been looking everywhere for you, Curvo. Where have you been?! Have they hurt you…?"
Curufin just rolled his eyes as his father fussed over him, replying as his father fired questions at him. "I'm fine dad… yes, this is my baby. I haven't named him yet I'm still thinking. Look, can you just take me home instead of starting anything. I miss my brothers."
Feanor seemed to ignore his son as he turned on Fingolfin. "This child better not be from one of your brats, Nolofinwe!" He growled, prodding the younger in the chest.
Fingolfin just sighed. "I can assure you, Feanaro, your son doesn't get along very well with any of my children but Írissë, who isn't going to get anyone pregnant…"
The two half-brothers ended up bickering, and Curufin just sighed, glancing to Turgon. "So, can I just go now? I'm going to hope my father isn't the only one who has come for me…"
Turgon shrugged. "You can't even walk, but I suppose if you really want out, I'll just have to get Írissë and Findekano to help me carry you out of here."
"What? Scared you'll drop me?" Curufin taunted.
"Well, you do weigh quite a bit with all that baby weight," Turgon teased back.
Curufin's cheeks went pink. "Bastard," He hissed, before recoiling as Turgon flicked his forehead.
"Language, Curvo. You're a father now."
