A/N: Hello everyone! This is a random plot bunny that refused to leave me alone. It is my first attempt at fanfiction of any sort so don't judge too harshly please.
Disclaimer: Don't own anything, regardless of my wishes.
Description: What were the sons of Fëanor thinking during the attack on Alqualondë?
Maedhros
I have always been good with the sword. Atar said to me once that I would achieve great things with my talent.
Do you consider this great, Atar?
Maglor
It was beautiful once. Not know, though, when the screams of the dying and the crackling of the flames fills the air.
Alqualondë burns and I am glad for I can blame the smoke for the tears in my eyes.
Celegorm
Huan refused to enter the city. Perhaps he sensed Atar's fey mood or smelled my brothers' fear. Whatever it was, he had stopped and refused to go on.
I wish now that I had stopped with him.
Caranthir
When I was small and Tyelko was small but bigger, when I had annoyed him or scared away the birds he had been talking to, he would exclaim, "You are as dark as death, Moryo!"
But death is not dark. Death is the flame of torches and the glinting of steel. Death is the red blood that pours out of an empty hröa. Death is not dark and I am afraid.
Curufin
It was their fault. The Teleri had refused to give us the ships. Father had not wanted it to come to this. It is their fault. Theirs.
Isn't it?
Amrod and Amras
I am a hunter. I am too.
I am good at hunting. As am I.
We wish we were not so good at it, now.
We should have stayed with Amil.
Translations (Quenya):
Atar= Father
hröa= body
Amil=mother
A/N: Thank you for reading! Drop a review, maybe?
~Mooselk