Genres: Action, Horror
Rating: R
Warnings: Battle-field Descriptions, Madness
Summary: Everyone was just in the way. Carnistir had to get rid of them to readh his goals.
Author's Notes: For a reviewer of this collection, CrackinAndProudOfIt, who requested a scene in Second or Third Kinslaying in the point of view of a son of Fëanor. Hope you like it! – And this is also to say that I'll accept requests from other readers, if they fit the criteria of this challenge, of which the most important is something set in the First Age or before that.
Chaos was everywhere. Blood and bodies were everywhere; and yelling, and screams. But Carnistir only thought of his brothers vanishing in the flurry of weapons – and the Jewel; yes, the Jewel… He had to find it and retain glory to his House. It would be nice if he was hailed as the son of Fëanáro who managed to do that, too, remedying his status of the least famous, least likeable nér of the lot.
The thought brought new strength to his limbs. He streaked like a gust of strong wind, hewing down anyone blocking his path.
To glory; for glory…