Tinorial PeredhilIt is painful thing to realize that your child or anyone who is close to you can be truly cruel. I am glad you like it and yes, I will keep it up.
AnnamariahYes, at least in the end he regretted it, but what is that when he lived his life in cruelty? Not much, I'm afraid. Poor old Huan he really had to make a hard decision there, but it was for the best. He did return to him in the end however.
ElfiqueI love, as you put it, "The Man Himself" he is a good friend and mentor. He's helping me in all my writing too, so that' nice. He say that he is glad that a few people out there exactly care about the canon enough to bother with it. Keep reading!
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Curufin, I cannot think of you without the shadow of your father standing so close that you are almost parallel. So like your father…
I most be the only mother to give birth in half an hour and six minutes, I hardly had time to settle in bed and feel any pain and there you were! But you were born in silence and your tiny body was pale and almost lifeless.
I can still see your father, tears running down his face, lifting your grey body and breathing into your tiny lungs. Slowly and gently he worked coaxing life into your little form until your cheeks turned a delicate pink and rosy. The breath your father gave you seemed to awaken a will to live and soon you were breathing on your own.
And it was only right that ever after you followed your father's footsteps. I had given you birth, but your father had given you life and so you were like him in everyway. As I gaze at a portrait of you I see his features in you, the same high cheek bones and keen glance. The exact same black eyes and long fingered hands made for the work of the forge.
I remember seeing your little boy-self running into the forge your glossy braids flying in your eagerness to be with your Atar. The first thing you made was a lovely glowing stone of deep violet light, I hold it now and it warms my hands. It was marvelous as your first work. The same skill that came to your father's attention and almost as soon as your could reach the bellows and anvil he brought you into the forge everyday, and you loved it!
You were such a tender baby, so sweet and mild in temper, cuddly and shy. When you were brought before the Valar, you bashfully hid you face in your Atar's shoulder. Aule loved you right away and blessed you with skill and temperance. Your father disliked the idea that your abilities were to be tempered, but he said nothing for the bitterness and evil of Melkor had not yet tainted his heart.
I think Aule, and all of the Valar saw in you the potential to be as fierce and fiery as your father and wished you to be more prepared to handle the flame that burned within you. This was your greater strength, your temperance was your power, you were mighty yet gentle, you were strong yet not cruel, you were good. It was made in your nature to be good.
But you thrived on the blasting heat, and the glowing metals that you worked with; and I almost never saw either of you while the Silmarils wee being made. Only the searing flames and smoke that came from the forge was a sign that you continued to work days and nights. Many don't realize how much of your life's power was used in the making of the jewels, it was not Feanor alone, but you as well.
That fateful day you both emerged smudged and sweaty, but so proud of yourselves! In your father's hands the first two jewels and you held the third. You smiled up at me, and I saw that in the making of the Silmarils that some of the light of your brilliant smile had come to be blended in the in the curving orbs of the Silmarils. While everyone marveled over the light of the Silmarils I marveled over the beauty of you that had been captured in their making.
Every rainbow bit that shuddered and moved with light reflected the tender light that moved in your own life and vitality. The blue of your eyes the ebony of your hair the white of your skin and the fire of your spirit. This is always said of your father, but I see the little things in it that you possessed that your father did not have in all his glorious character.
You had a measure of kindness and gentleness that tempered that of your fiery spirit. You loved and longed for the Silmarils, but you were not consumed by them as your father was. You loved the feel of a blade in your hand, but it did not breed ad lust for revenge in your blood. I remember the first time that you accidentally drew blood from on of your brother's in practice you were sick at the sight.
Poor Celegorm, he never fully understood by you always followed him after that but you did it to make plain your sorrow at having caused him pain, however brief. I saw the admiration for Celegorm's speaking ability burn in your eyes, and yet you aid nothing. The one thing that you did not have from you father, the inspired speech. You would listen to your father and Celegorm for hours and every word they said was truth to you.
Did that make it so easy for you to take that horrible Oath? If I had only…if only
No, I must say that I did everything I could do, For you I hold no regrets, I held nothing back, sometimes I felt as though you drew life from me as none of the other's did. And yet you have also left Valinor. You went to Middle Earth because you loved your father and brothers more then anything else.
Cold is your forge, and put aside your hammer. As I write this I think of you and your father. In every corner of the forge I see your slender frame, your glossy head bent over some wondrous thing, every gem or jewel you ever made is a reminder of your smile. Smile, my Curufin, and be all that your father was and more, be compassionate, be forgiving, be…be my son.
Nerdanel, Wife of Feanor
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Author's Note : Curufin was the only son of Feanor of which it is known that he had a child. Who was his wife? No one knows, perhaps some elleth that he married in Middle Earth or in Valinor, however the likelihood of his marrying after he reached Middle Earth is greater. The child of this union is Celebrimbor the maker of the three elvish rings of power.
His son went on to make the second most powerful rings in all of Middle Earth, and died at the hand of Sauron when he would not disclose the location of Vilya the ring of the Air and mightiest of the three. At the beginning the ring Vilya was in the possession of Gil-Galad the high elven king and would pass to Elrond after Gil-Galad's death, also at the hand of Sauron.
Curufin was know to smile at odd times and this would cause you to think that he said very little and that his smile was more beautiful or rarer to see then any of the others. He was almost murdered by Beren when he and Celegorm attempted to retake the elleth Luthien. However Luthien commanded Beren not to kill Curufin. She showed a great deal of mercy on him that unfortunately he did not use years later when he and Celegorm attacked her son and family for the Silmaril.
Curufin died at the attack as did Celegorm and his story is not often told for the lack of information that we have of him. But Tolkien informs me that the greatest work that Curufin ever did was not the power that he leant to the making of the Silmarils but the life and skill that he gave to his son.
Perhaps it may be said that Curufin never made anything remarkable, but the son that bore his father's face and skill received the fire, but the temperance was the greater in his heart. The good of Celebrimbor is remembered, for without the Elvish rings surely the world was have fallen to Sauron before anything could have been done about it. And for this we thank him.