Discussion The Works of Curufinwë (discussion)

[Server Room Gremlin]

Bah, only one emoji reaction and bah I wanna-

scribbles scribbles in sympathetic frustration against the fading memory of a skill and mind undeserving of forgetfulness

Bah. Humbug. Humbugs. Many humbugs, humbugging into oblivion.

Me when I just started writing: This is gonna be epic and fascinating. >_>

Me during the final chapters of writing: I did not expect to be emotionally attacked by this, dammit. 🥲 worth it, though

 

[Server Room Gremlin]

a skill and mind undeserving of forgetfulness

Curufin: 🥺🥹

 

[Tyelkormo the Fair]

Chapter 5:

I vaguely remember coming home from an exam when you were writing this. 😂
My mind reeling from whatever I was studying then, and reading your description of the Pass of Aglon was a very nice distraction from it.

As I've already told you, I loved the idea of the twin watchtowers guarding the path, and how unique it is.

On the other note, we get to see how different is the third Curufinwë from his father and grandfather. Despite his other qualities, I think the idea of Tyelpë and his love for sharing knowledge is a very INTP quality, because as we will see in his fate in Eregion, a lot of it comes from being able to past any judgement he has for any people and see their good qualities and skills. While impressive, I wish he( or I ) was a little more prone to suspicion.

 

[Tyelkormo the Fair]

Chapter 6:
Ooh boy! I loved the excerpts from this chapter the most, as I've previously told you.

Curufin getting triggered over someone he hates with too many similarities to himself but better than him in certain areas is a little funny to watch.
I always loved this part in the book, as brief as it was. You can tell Curufin cares for Aredhel beyond the hurt pride he feels over Eöl simply snatching her away like a common born, not the princess she is.
And there's the guilt of not having been there for her when she needed them the most.

Curufin's warnings ended up being true, but I wish it wasn't so. Perhaps if he had gotten rid of Eöl then and there, or held him until Aredhel was a safe distance away, the fate of Gondolin would have been different.

 

[Tyelkormo the Fair]

Chapter 7:

I've got two more segments to read, but it is a heavy reading, and it hits too close for me too want to finish it all at the same time.

1st Segment:
A light-hearted one compared to the others, yet sad in its own way.
I loved the little scene with Tyelpë and Finrod. I find their relationship despite being from different generations and Finrod being way older than him very wholesome. I think Tyelpë liked that he did not see him as the little nephew like his uncles do, but as an equal in skills and mind.
And the scene between the brothers was sweet. I don't know why I haven't gotten around to write something were adult Tyelko and Curvo are simply chilling and comforting each other in peace, but I definitely should.
Though I don't think it would look as adorable as yours.
The mini hug they shared in the end was just the sweetest thing.

2nd Segment:
AND there goes the peace. 😬
I like how different this Finrod seems from the one in QFTS, as he isn't exactly close to Celegorm as he is to Nethien, therefore neither of them are going to hold back. There would be no great love lost in there.
And it is interesting because the 2C were apparently close friends of Angrod and Aegnor.

 

[Tyelkormo the Fair]

Segment 3:

This was perhaps the most emotionally draining thing I've read since forever, and I don't think writing it was any easier.

My god, Curufinwë! Why would you do this to your own boy? My heart literally broke to pieces when I read that thing, and I had to actually pause in the middle of it because it made me too sad.
Poor Tyelpë's thoughts did it for me. He didn't deserve it. He was the least deserving of Curufin's ire, actually. The way I usually see their relationship coming to ruin is through both of them getting on each other's nerves until there was little love left between them, but I've got to say the embrace they shared st the end was beautiful, despite the sadness of the whole thing.

Also, I've got to say I'm very thankful that you didn't make Tyelko a creep just for the sake of the story. Yes, he intended to marry her, but from what I saw of the story it was mostly political, and even if he really was attracted to her, that doesn't make him a creep who constantly harassed her.

 

[Server Room Gremlin]

I vaguely remember coming home from an exam when you were writing this. 😂
My mind reeling from whatever I was studying then, and reading your description of the Pass of Aglon was a very nice distraction from it.

As I've already told you, I loved the idea of the twin watchtowers guarding the path, and how unique it is.

I vaguely remember you thinking my idea was cool when I brought it up. 😂

Curufin getting triggered over someone he hates with too many similarities to himself but better than him in certain areas is a little funny to watch.

Indeed. 😂

Both smiths, both with a wife and one son, both very possessive over that son, both very prejudiced against the other's people group, both friends with Dwarves... no wonder they just don't get along. ^_^

Curufin's warnings ended up being true, but I wish it wasn't so. Perhaps if he had gotten rid of Eöl then and there, or held him until Aredhel was a safe distance away, the fate of Gondolin would have been different.

Unfortunately, unlawfully slaying the kin of the King of Doriath would not be a very practical or sensible move, much as Curufin would like to do so.

I've got two more segments to read, but it is a heavy reading, and it hits too close for me too want to finish it all at the same time.

I get that. And you get what I meant about this being a marathon to write. 🫠

And the scene between the brothers was sweet. I don't know why I haven't gotten around to write something were adult Tyelko and Curvo are simply chilling and comforting each other in peace, but I definitely should.
Though I don't think it would look as adorable as yours.
The mini hug they shared in the end was just the sweetest thing.

I particularly liked Celegorm here. As I've mentioned before at some point, I imagine him as having the attitude of an entitled medieval prince. While he's irreverent/insolent and arrogant, there is also real courage and nobility there, and he can inspire others with his words just as Fëanor does. Yet it's even more heartwarming and encouraging here, because he 100% means it, and does not have an ulterior manipulative motive to get others to follow him.

This was perhaps the most emotionally draining thing I've read since forever, and I don't think writing it was any easier.

My god, Curufinwë! Why would you do this to your own boy? My heart literally broke to pieces when I read that thing, and I had to actually pause in the middle of it because it made me too sad.

My face when writing: 😬

Poor Tyelpë, all he knows and remembers is his reserved and awkward, yet caring father.
And Curufin... he knows he is not what his son still believes him to be. It is unclear what the emotion is that causes him to snap at Celebrimbor, but part of it must be the pain of such innocent, loving care and attempted comfort towards a hardened heart and a guilty, burdened soul that sees no way out but complete decisive ruthlessness.

And the reader knows what Curufin knows, so it's painful to witness Celebrimbor trying to get through to his father.

Poor Tyelpë's thoughts did it for me. He didn't deserve it. He was the least deserving of Curufin's ire, actually. The way I usually see their relationship coming to ruin is through both of them getting on each other's nerves until there was little love left between them, but I've got to say the embrace they shared st the end was beautiful, despite the sadness of the whole thing.

Yeah. The way they parted was my favourite part out of the whole nasty business, really. I thought it very moving. Despite everything, they love each other still. And still express it, after a fashion. That is rare, from my experience (admittedly limited) with other fanfictions. It's quite common for them to still care about each other deep down, but it's always something buried within their minds, and their parting was completely cold or unfriendly.

But the bonds of Curufin's family were very strong to begin with in my interpretation of the story, and this is not so easily forgotten or cast aside.

Also, I've got to say I'm very thankful that you didn't make Tyelko a creep just for the sake of the story. Yes, he intended to marry her, but from what I saw of the story it was mostly political, and even if he really was attracted to her, that doesn't make him a creep who constantly harassed her.

Another effect of 'Celegorm the entitled medieval prince'. As Curufin noticed, he definitely did fall for Lúthien's beautiful appearance, and that was not an insignificant factor in his desire to marry her. But as he does have that kind of nobility and pride about him, he would look down on common 'creepy' behaviour. He'd see it as being beneath him, and he'd be trying to seriously woo her, being all courteous and charming and trying to get her to like him well enough for a successful political marriage.

 

[Tyelkormo the Fair]

Unfortunately, I see way too many fanarts or fanfictions where Tyelko is a creepy loser and I honestly can't stand it.
He was definitely one of the villains in the story, but not in this way. Neither did the book said so, despite being generally biased.

This chapter made me really sad. I tend to not read stories about Nargothrond because of the reasons I mentioned, so I didn't really know what I was expecting when I started reading this, even though I've seen many excerpts. I was not expecting to be this saddened by it, though.

Good job, I guess. You made the one who makes everyone cry almost cry.

 

[Server Room Gremlin]

Chapter 9, 'Splint'

This chapter covers a long span of time. In the book, there is pretty much no information about what the sons of Fëanor are doing between the Nirnaeth Arnoediad and the Ruin of Doriath, other than moving from place to place. The book said Maedhros dwelt on Amon Ereb after the great defeat (in 'Beleriand and its Realms', I think), yet it also says the sons of Fëanor wandered in Ossiriand (after fleeing 'towards Mount Dolmed' as they escaped the battlefield).
And then we have this, after Dior gains the Silmaril:

the seven gathered again from wandering, and they sent to him to claim their own
(Chapter 22, Of the Ruin of Doriath)

So they weren't all staying in the same place for the whole time.

So I had a bit of a task organising their movements all while following Curufin's already-planned character arc. And keeping in mind the other things that happened during that span of time, like the destruction of Nargothrond (thanks, Túrin).

A guide to their travels in this chapter:

Parts 1 & 2: Somewhere in Thargelion, they make a temporary camp after their flight from the battlefield.

Part 3: They moved further south and have a more established camp in Ossiriand, living among the Green-elves.

Part 4: They move to the fortress of Amon Ereb. Some of the brothers leave and go wandering.

Part 5: They are on their way to Doriath...

 

[Tyelkormo the Fair]

Chapter 7:


Segment 4:
This was what made me feel like I have to give reading this a good 3-4 days rest at the least. It was heart wrenching, to sum up.
The encounter with Beren and the betrayal of Huan had always been my least favorite part of B&L.
Both brothers came out hurt in one way, with Curufin almost dying.
I couldn't help but read this through my Tyelko™ eyes, and reading firsthand of what happened to Curufin in that moment broke my heart. I felt helplessness coursing through me much like it had through Tyelko.

Amazingly done, my friend. I couldn't think of a better execution than this.

Segment 5:
Short, but you said everything that needed to be said. The quiet concern of Tyelko whenever it comes to Curufin could be seen here. Unlike any other time, he's not hasty or pushy, because he knows what he should and shouldn't do in this situation, unlike earlier. He might be able to help, but Curufin doesn't want it, and he respects that.

Segment 6:
Oh boy, lil Curvo is armed and ready to try and ruin every relationship he has, isn't he?
Not Maitimo, though. The eldest brother™ knows him too well to be pushed away by his words alone.

Again, I think Tyelko's reaction was spot on and very similar to mine in such situations. He didn't try to stop either of them from saying their piece, but stayed behind to sooth the ache his eldest brother must have been feeling at those words, and later on with Curvo himself.
Very well done, again.


I have a love-hate relationship with this chapter in particular. On one hand, I can't help but love the way you have written everything and spent hours on every word until it reached this perfection, but on the other, I just don't like B&L, as you know.
I don't think I can fully reread this chapter again when I come back to reread the whole story, but I appreciate all that you had put in this.

 

[Server Room Gremlin]

Segment 4:
This was what made me feel like I have to give reading this a good 3-4 days rest at the least. It was heart wrenching, to sum up.
The encounter with Beren and the betrayal of Huan had always been my least favorite part of B&L.
Both brothers came out hurt in one way, with Curufin almost dying.
I couldn't help but read this through my Tyelko™ eyes, and reading firsthand of what happened to Curufin in that moment broke my heart. I felt helplessness coursing through me much like it had through Tyelko.

Amazingly done, my friend. I couldn't think of a better execution than this.

🥺 Thanks.

When Curufin hears a familiar voice 'cursing the foe', he thinks it's Fëanor (as he's hallucinating due to lack of oxygen to the brain). He's actually hearing Celegorm, cursing 'both hound and horse', as it mentions in the book. Celegorm is just as furious as Fëanor after the death of Finwë.

It's indeed a sticky situation. The brothers brought it upon themselves, and yet they are still to be pitied.
I myself didn't feel quite the same as you, since I was entirely thinking from Curufin's perspective, and his brain's not really in order at the moment. Not much emotion, just action. Or else, too much pain to really consciously process.

Segment 5:
Short, but you said everything that needed to be said. The quiet concern of Tyelko whenever it comes to Curufin could be seen here. Unlike any other time, he's not hasty or pushy, because he knows what he should and shouldn't do in this situation, unlike earlier. He might be able to help, but Curufin doesn't want it, and he respects that.

Exactly. But in his heart he's in a mood to fight the world to protect his brother. 🗡️

Segment 6:
Oh boy, lil Curvo is armed and ready to try and ruin every relationship he has, isn't he?
Not Maitimo, though. The eldest brother™ knows him too well to be pushed away by his words alone.

This scene is also an echo or mirror of the second half of The Green Gem, where Celegorm and Curufin go to ask Maedhros for help, but Maedhros sees through little Curufin's deception.

Again, I think Tyelko's reaction was spot on and very similar to mine in such situations. He didn't try to stop either of them from saying their piece, but stayed behind to sooth the ache his eldest brother must have been feeling at those words, and later on with Curvo himself.
Very well done, again.

Yeah, he also stayed with Maedhros for comfort, since depending on what's upsetting him, he may not want to be alone to deal with it.
And again, he knows that Curufin doesn't want company immediately, either. But when the night passes and Curufin doesn't turn up, of course he goes to look for him.

I have a love-hate relationship with this chapter in particular. On one hand, I can't help but love the way you have written everything and spent hours on every word until it reached this perfection, but on the other, I just don't like B&L, as you know.
I don't think I can fully reread this chapter again when I come back to reread the whole story, but I appreciate all that you had put in this.

Very understandable, a rough time was had by all. 😮‍💨 Lots of hurt, very little comfort.
And I am certain this chapter took the longest for me to put together. Worth it though, for completeness' sake. And it was really interesting to examine Curufin's thoughts in detail during this whole thing. Which I don't think anyone else has done. Ever.

 

[WatcherWraith]

Chapter 9, Section 1:

I think the most powerful part was how consistently you maintained the brothers' weariness and trouble with their wounds. And of freaking course Maedhros would just tough it out and then collapse. Sir. Lord of Himring.

Curufin has a tendency to make jokes and puns under pressure? I honestly would not have guessed. But it provided for some relief for both himself and Caranthir, at least. And that was enough to keep them going.

Maglor, the brother they could not find at first. The brother who will outlive them all. How ironic. Amd he was singing in his battle-shock and weariness. I can only imagine how haunting that must have sounded.

I have to pause, as it has taken me near half an hour to both read that section and write this, but I will come back when I have more time. That may be over the next few days ':]

 

[Glorfindel Goldtress]

Oh, my goodness. The pain. The agony. The tragedy.

Where do I begin? The beginning, I suppose. A very good place to start. And very sad.

What an acute, detailed portrayal of the injuries throughout the first section. I was practically experiencing phantom pain along with the Fëanorians. You describe Curufin's injury in particular with simultaneous clarity and "blurriness", indicating the mental state of Curufin extremely well as he comes to terms with his wounds. Both physical and metaphysical. We feel "ill" along with Curufin when he feels ill, we reach out to "balance" ourselves internally while Curufin attempts to remain relatively balanced. I distinctly felt that twinge of pain upon the minuscule act of Amrod straightening his fingers. You write pain very realistically, both in a physical and metaphysical way.

As the chapter progresses, we catch a varied glimpse of the injuries the rest of the Fëanorians have received, and we come to the understanding no one escapes unscathed, no matter how relatively "unwounded" they appear in contrast. For example, Celegorm looks the least injured physically, yet he is scarred much deeper than just what he received in battle, based on his absense and attitude when present.

In Maedhros’ eye, a crescent of white light shines, gleaming at the base of the ordinary silver. It appears like a sliver of a bright lamp beam beneath a dark cover, so distinctly does it contrast with the ever-present light of Valinor.
Curufin wonders at this as he returns to staring at the sunlit woodlands ahead. Such is his strength of spirit...

I found this focus upon Maedhros' eyes very intriguing, as it felt disjointed from the rest of this portion of the chapter's medium. The contrast of Maedhros' spirit's strength compared to everyone's very weak-willed bodies and souls was fascinating to point out, especially in the way it is described. Eyes are the windows of the soul, as they say. The eye motif will return...

All the exhaustion, the weight of their deeds and wounds, just seeps from every word.

Onto the next section, where we will see this continue... yet also precious family ties.

Curufin's and Maglor's repartee is a bittersweet contrast to the devastation weighing down upon them. The ability to produce humor in the bleakness of the moment is both a comfort and challenge in how deeply scarred they are. Yet also, this shows more humanizing features of the Fëanorians in how their family life is still present in their interactions despite how everyone else must see them. A small contrast to the deafening pain all throughout the chapter, strangely both fitting and unfitting. It's also a bit of a relief both can still be a bit humorous. The fact Curufin's dying wit concerns Maglor the most is a huge indicator of wellbeing measurement. Never stop being witty, you guys! We're here for it. And everything else.🥺

Then we get the mood switch with Maedhros, and both he and Curufin have a "snapping moment", Maedhros in words and Curufin in emotions. The ever-present agony pervading them rises to the full front again, and we are met with the familiarity of such due to how the chapter has progressed, fitting but utterly tragic. And it is intriguing to see how much Curufin picks up in a gaze or glance, which is carried throughout the chapter. So much in the eyes and face of his brothers he picks up on yet doesn't quite have the strength to analyze such completely, leaving the reader wondering and speculating. It's clear the brothers are essentially all they have, nothing else left to hold onto but themselves.

Onward...

Curufin's dream conversation with his father is eerily reminiscent of the faint, lingering theme throughout the whole tale of Curufin's seeming "lesserness" in smithcraft, and the manifestation of the dream displays Curufin's inner struggle to meet his father's standard even though he is at a loss. I also found the direct address of his father's name interesting as well, linked to it being both of their names and also separate identities at once.

Save for his heart. He feels it growing hot within him, pressure building in his chest like the molten fires far beneath a dormant and long cold mountain. Unbearably, painfully hot... anger... agony... something... something else—
His heart bursts and all he sees, feels, hears is murky yellow flame, in his burnt-out chest, in his molten limbs, forcing itself into his aching, nigh-to-bursting skull, suddenly sharpening to a—foreign white fire—

Again, extremely strong depiction of agony, the kind so deeply internal it comes out in pure physical pain. Like his spirit is splintering... Also, this concept of white light/fire is repeated. First seen with the description of Maedhros' eye, and now here it is in Curufin's heart. Intriguing choice of such specifically. The white light or fire is contrasted with different light or fire, that of Valinor/sunlight or murky yellow flame, respectively, and it speaks to the different experiences in the brothers' spirits.

Celegorm pauses. “The north is overrun. The High King never returned, and from what they say, not a single soldier of his host lived to tell of his fate.”

OH NO, OH NO, OH NO. You mean to tell me they didn't know when Fingon and all his host died?! They heard by word of relay?! WHAT TRAVESTY IS THIS?!

Onto... the next... section... with even... more... pain... and... introspection.

Curufin’s gaze flicks between the two of them. His own voice is cool and clear. “The news was hard to take, indeed. The uncertainty of his fate, in particular, is difficult to bear. But my son is no fool. I cannot believe he would stay so long in Nargothrond. If the news we have gathered is to be believed, Nargothrond was no longer shrouded in secrecy by the time the Foe discovered it, and a great bridge had been built before its gates.”
Curufin surprises himself with his own conviction, not knowing whence it comes, for the same doubts and questions keep turning in his mind. As he continues, his throat tightens. “My son knows... when to leave. He knows when to abandon a lost cause... and would not waste his efforts in turning fools from their ways, if the path they have chosen is so clearly doomed... regardless of love or loyalty. He is wise.”
Curufin falls silent, looking down at the floor.

I found this forebacksightfulness intriguing-- Curufin instinctively knows Celebrimbor made it out, despite their separation for so long now. He is convinced, despite everything and his lack of true knowledge, with absolute certainty his son is alive. The fact he didn't know where it came from makes me think his insight came as a result of both the fact he is connected to his son vaguely through their bond and also perhaps even from Eru.

There's a lot of brother-holding-brother throughout the whole chapter. Very much reiterates they are all they have.

Oh no, the Oath has awoken...

Celegorm looks at him. His eyes are bright and fey, and there is an uncanny, light expression on his face, as though he is about to leap into flight, transforming into a great bird and soaring to the heavens.

And the motif returns, both with the eyes and light. It is most fascinating how you've carried this from Curufin's persepctive each time, as he perceives into his brothers' hearts... I agree; this is very uncanny. Splintering of the spirit is a dreaded thing...

“All I want is to see you smile again, little one.” His voice cracks slightly. “Your real smile. Not that other one.”
The moment passes as quickly as it had arrived. Celegorm shrugs, lowering his gaze. He turns away and sits back down on his chair before the fire.

🥺
And again, the notion of fire returns in complementation with the eye-light. Hmmm, I wonder. Not sure if this one was intentional or not, but expect everything!
One... more...

Again, returning to the concept of Curufin's failure to create something lasting, we see the gemstones and all he tampered with are cast away into the fire, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. Whoops, wrong Book. *Coughs*

Though Maedhros has not recovered since the Unnumbered Tears, and his eyes are still deeply sunken in, their pale glitter is that of burnished iron, not shattered glass.

And one last time, we return to the eye motif. We started with Maedhros and ended with Maedhros. THE CONTRAST..! Also, pale glitter? Come on now, this couldn't go unnoticed in regards to Maedhros! Curufin again is highly observant to the internal state of his brothers, and the stark difference and yet un-difference between Maedhros in the first section and the last is discombobulating. And yet... his spirit has not shattered. Curufin sees signs of untethering in Celegorm, as we recall from the bird taking flight notion, and yet here... despite Maedhros' grief and all his wounds, his spirit is still "burnished iron, not shattered glass."

Curufin searches his eldest brother’s face. Searches for that same splintering of mind he had seen in his father, for he does not want to see such a thing happen again. Never again.

And just before, we get the reason at long last for why Curufin is so inspective of his brothers' eyes and all. He witnessed his father's spirit splinter before his eyes, no pun intended, and now he watches to see it unfold in his brothers and himself... The. Agony.

And now we come to the end, almost the end, and it is UnBeArAbLe! Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo. I don't even know how to conclude other than to go into mourning. Ah, yes, I'm off to find sackcloth! And wait for the next chapter. Too well done.

 

[Server Room Gremlin]

I think the most powerful part was how consistently you maintained the brothers' weariness and trouble with their wounds. And of freaking course Maedhros would just tough it out and then collapse. Sir. Lord of Himring.

He feels responsibility for his brothers. Not only is there the guilt and pain of having to flee a lost battle (which he himself had designed/planned), but there is the more personal guilt and pain over seeing how it has affected his little brothers. ._.

Curufin has a tendency to make jokes and puns under pressure? I honestly would not have guessed. But it provided for some relief for both himself and Caranthir, at least. And that was enough to keep them going.

He normally likes wordplay and making bad puns, but that side of his character hasn't really shown up in TWC so far, due to most of the chapters being pretty focused on significant events. This chapter has more time to dwell on the relationships between the brothers, so his jokiness is coming out.

But yes, in addition to that, he does have a tendency to become flippant in stressful situations (depending on the kind of stress).

Maglor, the brother they could not find at first. The brother who will outlive them all. How ironic. Amd he was singing in his battle-shock and weariness. I can only imagine how haunting that must have sounded.

I did like writing that part. It was a bit eerie and mysterious, but also sad.

 

[WatcherWraith]

Section 2:
(I'm deliberately not reading Glorfindel's post until I've finished the chapter.)


This thing a quiet sorrow made. Misery loves company, and so it seems. Curufin could only see his true grief when provoked by both Maglor and Maedhros. And I loved how you portrayed the affectionate moments between the brothers. It made them feel more united and whole as a family. Their concern and care for each other, regardless of themselves and many times in spite of themselves, is very touching to see.

 

[WatcherWraith]

Section 3:


My heart is moaning. Curufin cried out in the darkness of his dreams, in the Halls of Mandos he envisioned, but he thinks of Fëanor's fëa as so deeply bound there he is unreachable. Unattainable. And then, at the end, what can that fire be but Curufin's mind portraying his father's death, only in his own body?

And Fingon. Fingon is gone. That is probably what broke Maedhros worse than any wound his body received, than any even his brothers received! And this may have been what turned him mad, mad with grief and blind with rage against the Dark Foe who took not only honor, not only grandfather, not only father, but heart-brother from him.

 

[WatcherWraith]

Section 4:

I find it so illuminating, your portrayal of these events. The pull of the Oath, how it whispers and pulls them along, yet by their consent, is plainly rendered. It sleeps as if sentient, wakes as if aware, and surges forward, carrying the spirit of their father with it.

Celegorm is usually the leader, when Maedhros is indisposed, it seems. His eloquence is definitely reminiscent of Fëanor's, especially as he speaks on subjects personal to each brother. Maglor is already holding back, though I imagine it hurts him to do so to some degree. How much of a hold does the Oath have on his heart? Caranthir presses on, the twins yearn for peace, and Maedhros's soul seems to be twisting itself out of shape to wake up from the loss of Fingon. Curufin is still that sharp, brittle knife, that candle flame pale in a shivering darkness.

They are all ready to fall.

 

[WatcherWraith]

Section 5:


I did not expect to finish today, but the Lord graced me with time.

Poor Maedhros. He is no longer lost in grief, but forged by it. And yet, strong though he is, he has been made weaker by the forging. Still, his mind does not break, and he is not fey yet as Celegorm may be soon.
I'd be willing to wager it is his throat-wound keeps opening. It fits, for such a wound should have been fatal, and is still dangerous, though it does not kill him outright yet.

Curufin. I wonder what he anticipates from this battle. I doubt he has any idea what is in store for him.

 

[Server Room Gremlin]

What an acute, detailed portrayal of the injuries throughout the first section. I was practically experiencing phantom pain along with the Fëanorians. You describe Curufin's injury in particular with simultaneous clarity and "blurriness", indicating the mental state of Curufin extremely well as he comes to terms with his wounds. Both physical and metaphysical. We feel "ill" along with Curufin when he feels ill, we reach out to "balance" ourselves internally while Curufin attempts to remain relatively balanced. I distinctly felt that twinge of pain upon the minuscule act of Amrod straightening his fingers. You write pain very realistically, both in a physical and metaphysical way.

I am pleased my writing had the desired effect.

Coincidentally, I broke a bone in my foot not long before writing this chapter. I was at first surprised to note the way I imagined Curufin feeling (when I planned out the chapter beforehand) was quite accurate. And my own experience helped to fill in more details.

I tend to draw my descriptions of things from my own experience, or by amplifying/extrapolating from my own experience and imagining what it would be like if it was worse.

Sometimes I might research wounds and their effects, but I didn't do that with TWC. It was all worked out from logic + knowledge of the body, as well as experience + imagination.

I found this focus upon Maedhros' eyes very intriguing, as it felt disjointed from the rest of this portion of the chapter's medium. The contrast of Maedhros' spirit's strength compared to everyone's very weak-willed bodies and souls was fascinating to point out, especially in the way it is described. Eyes are the windows of the soul, as they say. The eye motif will return...

Maedhros' "spirit burned like a white fire within", as it says in Chapter 18 (Of the Ruin of Beleriand and the Fall of Fingolfin).
And I imagined he would not only strike fear into the hearts of his enemies, but courage and strength into the hearts of his friends. Meeting up with the rest of his brothers encouraged him enough for one last 'push', which strengthened and spurred them on too.

Curufin's and Maglor's repartee is a bittersweet contrast to the devastation weighing down upon them. The ability to produce humor in the bleakness of the moment is both a comfort and challenge in how deeply scarred they are. Yet also, this shows more humanizing features of the Fëanorians in how their family life is still present in their interactions despite how everyone else must see them. A small contrast to the deafening pain all throughout the chapter, strangely both fitting and unfitting. It's also a bit of a relief both can still be a bit humorous. The fact Curufin's dying wit concerns Maglor the most is a huge indicator of wellbeing measurement. Never stop being witty, you guys! We're here for it. And everything else.🥺

This chapter is both more and less painful than Chapter 7. More painful, because the overall tragedy of their situation is greater. And yet less, for the brothers are there for each other. They know each other so well, they care for each other, and they are doing their best to express that care, despite the state of their bodies and minds.

Then we get the mood switch with Maedhros, and both he and Curufin have a "snapping moment", Maedhros in words and Curufin in emotions. The ever-present agony pervading them rises to the full front again, and we are met with the familiarity of such due to how the chapter has progressed, fitting but utterly tragic. And it is intriguing to see how much Curufin picks up in a gaze or glance, which is carried throughout the chapter. So much in the eyes and face of his brothers he picks up on yet doesn't quite have the strength to analyze such completely, leaving the reader wondering and speculating. It's clear the brothers are essentially all they have, nothing else left to hold onto but themselves.

Curufin is very perceptive usually, but as the story progresses, his ability to interpret what he sees is diminished. In part due to his own physical and mental exhaustion, but also because he is growing more and more numb to his own feelings, and is thoroughly neglecting himself in that area, so much that he no longer realises he is suppressing anything.

Hence why his own tears take him by surprise.

Again, extremely strong depiction of agony, the kind so deeply internal it comes out in pure physical pain. Like his spirit is splintering... Also, this concept of white light/fire is repeated. First seen with the description of Maedhros' eye, and now here it is in Curufin's heart. Intriguing choice of such specifically. The white light or fire is contrasted with different light or fire, that of Valinor/sunlight or murky yellow flame, respectively, and it speaks to the different experiences in the brothers' spirits.

The 'murky yellow flame' is Curufin's spirit. I could easily imagine the flames of Fëanor's spirit being red and white (as seen in Chapter 3). But Curufin's 'colour' I borrowed from my own perception of my own inner colour, since I borrowed a lot from myself to fill the gaps in his personality.
But I suppose it fits the concept of him being like a candle flame, with inefficiently burnt brown smoke swirling amidst ominous, restless, unsettled yellow.

The white fire is 'foreign', because it is the flame of Maedhros' spirit. Maedhros' cry at the news of Fingon's death was not consciously heard by Curufin, as he was asleep. But the painful flare of Maedhros' spirit crying out burst into his own troubled dream, and he woke up suddenly, knowing someone had screamed even though he only heard it through his sleeping ears.

If Curufin strongly empathises with someone, it is because what they are experiencing reminds him of something he has experienced. And Maedhros' distress coinciding with his own painful dream most definitely affected him deeply, and he could not countenance leaving his brother alone.

OH NO, OH NO, OH NO. You mean to tell me they didn't know when Fingon and all his host died?! They heard by word of relay?! WHAT TRAVESTY IS THIS?!

The sons of Fëanor fled the field before the battle was lost for Fingon's host. Therefore it made sense to me they would only hear just how badly they lost some time after the fact.

I found this forebacksightfulness intriguing-- Curufin instinctively knows Celebrimbor made it out, despite their separation for so long now. He is convinced, despite everything and his lack of true knowledge, with absolute certainty his son is alive. The fact he didn't know where it came from makes me think his insight came as a result of both the fact he is connected to his son vaguely through their bond and also perhaps even from Eru.

Curufin doesn't know where this certainty comes from because of his suppression of his griefs and deeper feelings. If you notice what he said, it could equally apply to why he believes Celebrimbor stayed in Nargothrond when Curufin was banished.
His son 'knows when to leave' and would not waste his efforts in 'turning fools from their ways'.

🥺
And again, the notion of fire returns in complementation with the eye-light. Hmmm, I wonder. Not sure if this one was intentional or not, but expect everything!
One... more...

Not all of the instances you've picked up were intentional. I think it just shows what my brain likes to create or focus on in art. I'm sure you've seen how lighting and shadow play a distinct and important part in many of my drawings. I just like glowy things. 🫠 Very Noldorin and Curufin-y of me, I know.

And eyes are the window to the soul. They have a lot of expression in them. Something else that shows up a lot in my drawings, I think.

Again, returning to the concept of Curufin's failure to create something lasting, we see the gemstones and all he tampered with are cast away into the fire, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. Whoops, wrong Book. *Coughs*

😂 🥲

Also, pale glitter? Come on now, this couldn't go unnoticed in regards to Maedhros!

I am very intentional with my word choices, and I definitely pulled from my vague knowledge of Tolkien's other writings in order to capture the characters as well as I could, even if TWC is only based on The Silmarillion.

And just before, we get the reason at long last for why Curufin is so inspective of his brothers' eyes and all. He witnessed his father's spirit splinter before his eyes, no pun intended, and now he watches to see it unfold in his brothers and himself... The. Agony.

Interestingly, I had only intentionally meant to point this out during Curufin's final examination of Maedhros here. Because that's what Curufin is intentionally searching for. All those other instances were just Curufin being his perceptive self about his brothers' appearances.
But your interpretation is very fitting, for perhaps Curufin's vigilance, and his alertness and attentiveness to others has been reinforced by the trauma of what happened to his father. But he wouldn't consciously realise that most of the time.

And now we come to the end, almost the end, and it is UnBeArAbLe! Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo. I don't even know how to conclude other than to go into mourning. Ah, yes, I'm off to find sackcloth! And wait for the next chapter. Too well done.

An appropriate response for this chapter and the next, really. 🫠

 

[Server Room Gremlin]

Section 3:

My heart is moaning. Curufin cried out in the darkness of his dreams, in the Halls of Mandos he envisioned, but he thinks of Fëanor's fëa as so deeply bound there he is unreachable. Unattainable. And then, at the end, what can that fire be but Curufin's mind portraying his father's death, only in his own body?

And Fingon. Fingon is gone. That is probably what broke Maedhros worse than any wound his body received, than any even his brothers received! And this may have been what turned him mad, mad with grief and blind with rage against the Dark Foe who took not only honor, not only grandfather, not only father, but heart-brother from him.

Indeed, this part was heart-wrenching. The griefs could be soothed somewhat in the previous part, where Maedhros was still somewhat 'himself' and desired to help and comfort his brothers, but once the news of the fate of Fingon's host arrives, all they can do is dwell in pain together.

Section 4:

I find it so illuminating, your portrayal of these events. The pull of the Oath, how it whispers and pulls them along, yet by their consent, is plainly rendered. It sleeps as if sentient, wakes as if aware, and surges forward, carrying the spirit of their father with it.

Celegorm is usually the leader, when Maedhros is indisposed, it seems. His eloquence is definitely reminiscent of Fëanor's, especially as he speaks on subjects personal to each brother. Maglor is already holding back, though I imagine it hurts him to do so to some degree. How much of a hold does the Oath have on his heart? Caranthir presses on, the twins yearn for peace, and Maedhros's soul seems to be twisting itself out of shape to wake up from the loss of Fingon. Curufin is still that sharp, brittle knife, that candle flame pale in a shivering darkness.

They are all ready to fall.

You also have really good observations/insights. All this is exactly what I was trying to convey or portray.

I did indeed have a sense that things were 'drawing to a close' in this chapter. The brothers do not have much hope for the future in general, but I think Celegorm, Caranthir, and Curufin do sense that the end is drawing near for them, in a way. Even if they don't consciously think about it, it does show in their actions towards the end of the chapter. And, I suppose, in Curufin's dream about the gates of Mandos calling him.

Section 5:

I did not expect to finish today, but the Lord graced me with time.

Poor Maedhros. He is no longer lost in grief, but forged by it. And yet, strong though he is, he has been made weaker by the forging. Still, his mind does not break, and he is not fey yet as Celegorm may be soon.
I'd be willing to wager it is his throat-wound keeps opening. It fits, for such a wound should have been fatal, and is still dangerous, though it does not kill him outright yet.

Curufin. I wonder what he anticipates from this battle. I doubt he has any idea what is in store for him.

Curufin's mind is strangely blank at this point. Normally he plots and plans a lot for the future. Here, he is dwelling in the moment, and occasionally reflecting on the past. Even though he doesn't know it, perhaps he does sense there is no more future for him in Middle-earth.