A Story of Seven by NelyafinweFeanorion

Chapter 5

Feanorian Week Day 5: Curufin

Curufin:

Anger

His anger was not the slow burn to white-hot rage of Maedhros. It was not the silent seething of Maglor. He did not share Celegorm's physicality with his emotions--he had never punched a wall or kicked down a door in rage--such a waste of energy. Curufin did not broadcast his anger, as Caranthir did with his flushed face and growling words.

No, Curufin's anger was a cold thing; almost an absence of emotion that hid behind cutting words and a still expression. His brothers knew well to avoid him when he looked that way.

He had many masks, schooling his features to avoid detection, something he had learned from observing the unrefined, unrestrained and transparent sentiments of both Celegorm and Caranthir. It did not do to have others read you too easily.

No one was having any difficulty reading him now. He was behaving so completely out of character that it had caused both Celegorm and Caranthir to lapse into an uncanny silence of their own.

Curufin could hear his own voice shouting, feel the heat rising in his face, see his hand slamming down on the table in front of Maedhros. He could not stop himself, could not stem the torrent of words spilling out of him, his usual crisp efficiency of speech completely abandoning him for sheer, incoherent rage.

It didn't help that Maedhros was observing him with a cool detachment that enraged him further.

He paused to take a breath, sweeping his scorching gaze across his gathered brothers. "Have you nothing to say? None of you? You are simply going to sit there and let him give our legacy away? To him?"

"You seem to be speaking enough for everyone, Curvo," Celegorm said, leaning against the wall, his eyes darting from Maedhros to Curufin, the lines of tension visible in his body even as his voice strived to be steady. Huan whined at his side, uncomfortable at the surging emotions in the room. Celegorm's hand found his head and buried itself in his fur, imperceptibly relaxing as he did so.

Amras looked down at the table, withdrawing into himself as he usually did when conflict flared between his siblings. It was during moments like this that he felt his twin's loss most acutely.

Caranthir's face was flushed as usual, but for once he stood by and let Curufin's rant go unchallenged. He had said his piece to Maedhros, both in private and here in the presence of their brothers. He knew by the look on his eldest brother's face that his words were futile now. Maedhros had never looked more like Father than he did in this moment. He let his shoulders slump. He would argue no more.

It seemed that Curufin had only paused for breath. He leveled a piercing look of sheer disdain at the lot of them. "That's it then? You are giving up arguing because it's Maedhros? He does not get to decide this on his own." He turned to face his eldest brother. "It seems your mind suffered as much damage as your body during your years of captivity, Maedhros, for you to think this is in any way a reasonable decision. It would have been better for Maglor to stay as King; unsuited as he is, he is still better than Nolofinwe. You are a disgrace to the house of Feanor." His voice, usually so controlled, revealed all his bitterness, his words as sharp as the sword he carried.

If he expected his oldest brother to retort he was sorely disappointed. He was shoved up against a wall, a hand clenched in the fabric of his tunic as he looked in surprise at the unexpected face of Maglor, grey eyes flaming with a rage of his own. "You will hold your tongue Curufin or I shall make you pay for your words. How dare you insult your High King in this manner? Do you think yourself better suited to the role? We would all go down in flames if anyone gave you that kind of power."

He shoved Maglor away. "He is no High King of mine. Not anymore. The High King of the Noldor does not give his kingship away. Father and Grandfather died as Kings of the Noldor. He is the rightful heir and if he is too broken and weak to do it then any of us can step up to take his place. Not this jumped up Vanyar half-breed."

Maedhros continued to regard him with that cool, detached gaze. "You forget yourself, Curufin. I may be giving up the Kingship to Nolofinwë but I haven't given it up yet. You speak treason and I suggest you watch your words before you go too far even for me."

"I forget nothing!" Curufin bellowed, stalking over to Maedhros again. "I have not forgotten how our King was killed by Morgoth, how our father was beset by Balrogs. They died as Kings of their people and now you shirk your duty and your honor and betray their sacrifice if you give their legacy away." He placed his hands on the table and leaned down towards Maedhros. "You are the one who has forgotten himself."

"I think not." Maedhros said lightly, his silver eyes glinting with a fierceness that gave Curufin pause. "I have had quite a long time to reflect on this, you see." The smile Maedhros gave his brother was little more than the baring of his teeth. "You have forgotten the most important facts, Curvo. Grandfather made Nolofinwë his regent when he gave up the crown. Not me. Nolofinwë. His second son. He never rescinded it. Is that not direct proof of the succession?" He raised his eyebrow as he regarded his younger brother. "And you conveniently seem to forget we serve a different master. The Oath rules us. That renders every one of us unfit to rule any but ourselves."

Curufin's incoherent cry of rage was answer enough. Even he had no words to argue now.

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Patience

At first it was helping the small hands tentatively trace the Tengwar script over and over on the parchment. Then it was gently guiding the slender fingers as they picked apart the gears, watching as his son put the pieces back together unaided, the smile of success making Tyelpe's face glow.

Now Telperinquar was finally old enough to learn the secrets of the forge. Curufinwë had chosen this time carefully, his wife away visiting her family and his father off on one of his many trips.

He knew Tyelpe was ready. He had seen how the boy watched him as he worked, had seen the gleam of understanding in Tyelpe's eyes. He knew his wife worried for his safety but how could he not be safe with him?

He had planned for his father to be away; Curufinwë would not have it otherwise, despite how disloyal to Feanaro that might seem. He had his own memories of his first time in the forge. He wanted Tyelpe to love the work, not be overwhelmed with worry and anxiety at pleasing his grandfather. It had come so easily to him but he had seen how much of a struggle it was for Tyelko and Moryo. Father's patience was a transient thing at best. It would not do for Tyelpe to be exposed to that so soon.

He started with the basics, walking Tyelpe around the forge and pointing out each tool, each part, the inner workings of all the foundations for the task. He knew his son had picked up some of this from watching him but if he was to learn he needed to learn it properly.

Each tool was placed in Tyelpe's hand, the correct grip demonstrated, discussed, repeated, adjusted. He watched as his son struck the flame to light the forge, murmuring encouraging words as he did. He reminded him to use the bellows when Tyelpe's flame began to falter. Each step discussed, demonstrated, repeated, questioned and then repeated again, until the motions came more smoothly to those hands that were still too soft to withstand a full day's work.

They returned the next day and the next, Tyelpe's confidence increasing with the repetition. Curufinwë started each lesson like the first one, running through the tools, the steps, the safety precautions, before allowing Tyelpe to begin the actual work. Each motion repeated time and time again, until Tyelpe's strokes were sure and even, the rhythm as steady as his heartbeat.

At the end of the week he looked with pride at the dagger his son had forged on his own and then he started once again reciting the litany of steps they needed to go through to shut the forge down for the day, Tyelpe repeating the words to himself as he completed each task.
Tomorrow they would do it again.